#Otto's mental enemy

[presidentstalkeyes]

[lovl3igh]

alicent as a mother is always so intensive subject, cause where tg refuse to admit that alicent was a bad mother, tb don't give her justice in reasons why that happened (it's not general, both teams has exceptions ofc)

tg defend her saying it's not her fault, she was used, she didn't want those children, they forced her, but was it said otherwise? yes, she was bad mother because of her own trauma and assault she experienced but she was still a bad mother. having an "excuse" don't change that

and not every time that someone said she is not a good parent, they need to add why. no need for assuming that person who says it, doesn't know the reasons. they can say why alicent became bad parent or the way alicent shows bad parenting or that she is just that, bad mother, they can say all of it or just one thing. all of that coexists

before I'll start: there's most stuff from the show, but there's book spoilers, maybe that will be also show cannon in the future, I dunno, sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language

we have evidence of her being basically sold by her father, sa'd by viserys, forced to birth one child by another. she was motherless child forced to becoming a mother before she was ready. she was not a fan of her children, we see her unhappy with them, and when she speaks it's about dry facts like the labour and not her feelings. she does not care for them that way, which is fine bc she not wished for them and she's still a child herself, but that's a fact

we see her later with her kids and again we cannot say she became better while becoming older. she sees them as her duty (her worst enemy), her responsibility and also (admit it or not) way to put rhaenyra down. otto said to her way before jace was born that he wants aegon on the throne, he already could be accused of treason but alicent remained silent and later she acts the same way. she puts on aegon big pressure, responsibilities and also involves him in act of treason (because again she thinks it's her duty to the realm)

what's more she abuses him physically and mentally. we see her beating him more than once, screaming or neglacting him (all of that are forms of abuse). blames him for aemond's losing an eye while it was her responsibility to watch her kid or a servant and guards', not his (you can say also viserys', there was never a dispute if he's a good father, we know he isn't, it's about alicent only discussion then)

aegon in his 20s has to ask his mother if he's being loved, how sick is that? that he drowns in need of attention? (you can say he deserves all of this but the truth is alicent - and viserys ofc - failed to raise him well and now she fails to punish him, cause he should be sent to the wall, instead she beats him and let's him be a monster to another girl, now as a "king". all not to protect him but to protect his reputation, all she does there is bc of her sense of duty)

helaena hates being touched by her own mother, why wouldn't she? child bride alicent did the same to her daughter, knowing what a menace her son is. she does not understand haelena, she forces her to early marriage, childbirting, unhappy life. (and be fr, haelena might not like touching generally but 1. it's speaks even worse about alicent who touches her againts her will and married her to sexual predator, 2. she didn't mind being touched by jace who not really knowing his aunt was far more gentle)

absence of daeron would say more about their relation if not for long time skips, the truth is sending away little child is a form of neglacting however we do not know if they were in touch and how often. i know it's a common practise, i am glad that baela was at least sent to her loving grandmother in her later childhood, but I still do not like the whole ward thing and i won't comment on it in daeron's case, cause we did not see it here how was it done

I will speak about aemond x alicent relation though which is by far the most interesting. he is the only one we can say that he loves his mother and cares for her which doesn't automatically means she was a good mother for him. for the dynamic he observes alicent needs protection from men around her (rightfully so) and decides to lie to the king to protect her. not only he usually lives meeting her expectations (ekhem ekhem not anymore ig) but can initiate his actions to please her even if that means he'll go against his own wishes (searching for aegon to make him a king)

the fact is he was much miserable for not having dragons AND for being bullied. yet two things we have: first alicent as queen could easily arrange aemond going to dragonstone to claim dragon or take rhaenyra's deal to have syrax's egg. second - she blames velaryon boys as if she wasn't the one who destroyed good relations between kids and as if aegon weren't bellwether for bullying actions (YES, JACE AND LUKE ARE GUILTY TOO, but we discuss here alicent dynamics with her kids, so I point her fault right now) and she raised one child to bully others, his own siblings

then we have the children's fight and aemond loses his eyes. one of the best scene when alicent attacks rhaenyra, 10/10 love everything here. that's gonna sound harsh but alicent's behaviour here screams about duty too. it shouldn't at all, her child just lost his eye, her priority should be to comfort him. instead she wants rhaenyra to take responsibility for having bastards (that's not the case), aegon for not taking care of aemond (it's her responsibility), viserys to admitting her own sacrifices weren't for nothing. she put here herself and her needs above aemond, she used his wounds to attack rhaenyra and her children (no, I do not say she didn't care aemond got hurt, don't put words in my mouth)

"if the king won’t seek justice the queen will" she wants so called "justice", but stated by her only, where's justice in taking child's eye after accident? would she also break aemond nose for "justice"? if he'd killed luke or jace, would she call for killing aemond? it's not caring mother, it's the queen wanting revenge cause she doesn't like princess' privileges (and also privilege that bastards here have). she calms down when she realizes that she went too far, "neglected her duty", that's not aemond's doing (and also fcked up that her assaulted child feels that he needs to calm her down)

"she was ready to die for her children" desperate actions in the worst scenarios to not matter that much with previous behaviour, especially since her children were doubting if she would do that for them in the first place (that ig you can take as opinion, but if mother abuses child for years how much does it counts if she gives up her life for this child?)

regarding rhaenyra she doesn't understand a good mother patterns as well. she either doesn't care nyra will suffer or doesn't understand that mother who just gave a birth to a child, will not send it away even for a second. she doesn't care or understand mother will not allow for taking her child's eye for "duty". she doesn't understand that bastards are not any less worthy of love. her view of motherhood is sacrifising herself, not enjoying what she can

perhaps she did not know any better, her mother was a child bride (forced by old pedo otto) just like her, she did the same to helaena and unfortunately later that happened to jaehaera. she was abused in many ways but later also became an abuser. and all that because she thought life is about duty and sacrifice. she had every reason to be bad mother and she became one but that it should be seen as a fact while some of you see it as an opinion and criticism

if you read all of that - seven hells okay

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Awwww… Otto just needs a hug. Poor thing.

Also, if Otto ever asks MC how Adelina is doing, can we just quote something Old-King Remiel says to us? You know, something like “The greatest mistake Otto Ravenea ever made was to let an unparalleled talent like Adelina slip from his grasp and let her fall neatly into my own.” Napoleon’s “Never interfere with your enemy when he is making a mistake,” quote fits so well.

The idea is that you’re trying to make Otto realise that he sacrificed his relationship with his children for the sake of his empire, only to harm it in the long-run by doing so. Make him think that if he’d just been a better father, he would have noticed Adelina’s potential and not served her up on a silver platter to his worst frenemy.

I imagine Remiel would piss himself laughing if MC decided to pour some salt in the wound.

Oh fuck you! That's a great idea!!!

Into the ideabucket you go! Might have to give that one to a Low Mental Cohesion MC though, LMC MC is the one that truly doesnt give a fuck and would totally say that to the emperor's face

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Alicent spanking reader for the bingo card? Congrats on 150!

Crime and Punishment (Alicent Hightower x Reader)

Summary: The Queen and you get along wonderfully. After all, the strongest friendships are based on shared interests.

Warnings: Spanking. Masochism, mentions of self harm. A bit of blood. Reader and Alicent being sad lesbians. The author is a recovered catholic.

A/N: How many times can someone who has not received a spanking write a spanking? Two, it turns out. Thanks for being patient!

Some nights, you are not in a good place. Not mentally. It’s as if you are your worst enemy, falling back into damaging habits and patterns, and then hating yourself for it.

Before, you used to bite at your lips until they bleed, picking at the loose skin there. You would nitpick at your face, pinching every imperfection. Punish yourself with baths so cold your teeth would chatter, wash your skin with the roughest rags, until your skin was red and raw.

You know it’s unhealthy. A bad coping mechanism, that leaves you injured and exhausted, but lets you sleep after it.

That was before meeting Queen Alicent. Really meeting her. You had been, of course, aware of who she was. Loved by the people, married to the King, daughter of Otto Hightower. But you hadn’t met her yet.

Hadn’t noticed how her hands would pick at her cuticles and nail beds until they bleed, tugging the small bits of skin until they were bloody and raw. Hadn't noticed the way she wore a particularly sharp medallion of the Seven Pointed Star, and how she would cling to it, so tightly her knuckles turned white, sharp edges digging into her skin.

When you arrived at court, you watched. And Alicent watched back. As two dancers in a well-rehearsed piece, you circled each other, pushing and pulling. Both of you were aware of the unhealthiness of your behavior, how dangerous the game you played could turn. Yet, neither of you could resist the temptation of raising the stakes.

On nights like these, now, you come to her. You drop your dress, letting it pool at your feet. You pass her the wooden hairbrush she uses every night before bed.

The vanity is cold as you brace your hands against it, seeing the despair in your eyes reflected in the mirror. It’s weird, but it’s one of the conditions she has set for this agreement of yours. You must look at yourself in the eyes, face your fears. Watch yourself break and get built up again.

“I feel bad.” Alicent says, as she steps behind you. She remains fully clothed, the seven pointed star necklace still in place. Her finger runs down your spine, softly. The room is warm enough for you to be comfortable naked, but you shudder anyway. “I dislike hurting you.”

“I know.” You answer, meeting her eyes through the mirror. Her expression is solemn. She grabs the hairbrush. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Alicent frowns. “I dislike it more when you hurt yourself.” She squeezes your bare shoulder, gently. You hear the words, even when she doesn’t say them. This way, I can keep you safe, her big brown eyes seem to say. This way, I can control how much you hurt.

It’s a respite you desperately need. There is something about the pain that you find freeing, something that fixes you when you feel bad about yourself. And the Seven know that sometimes, you go overboard with it.

Who could blame you? When something feels good, when something feels right and distracts you from the bad things in life, it’s only natural to crave more.

Alicent rubs the hairbrush against your back, the side with the bristles against your naked skin. You shiver. The pressure she applies it’s just enough to make you squirm, but it doesn’t feel painful yet. It feels as if someone is scratching your back just a little too rough.

The hairbrush goes lower. Right on top of your hips. Alicent’s hands, on your stomach, encouraging you to arch your back and expose your bottom. You whine. You can’t take the teasing, tonight. It’s not a game to you, but a need. If she delays it a bit more, you are afraid you might break, shatter and explode into a million pieces.

As if sensing your mood, the hairbrush descends even more, harshly scratching at your cheeks. You fight the urge to tuck your hips in, to wiggle and make yourself a smaller target.

You hear the smack before you feel it. A harsh, dull sound that makes your thighs tremble, straining not to move away and break position. The ache comes next, a flash of hot red exploding against your skin. Warmth. You yowl.

Alicent shushes you, rubbing between your shoulder blades and forcing your head to hang lower.

“The guards can’t hear.” She says, as her other hand urges your hips to tilt back more, instead of going inwards. Her hand settles just above your mound, keeping you in position. It’s an uncomfortable stretch, your naked breasts nearly touching the vanity, forehead pressed against the mirror. “You have to be quiet, or we will be caught.”

You whimper, pitifully. You know it wouldn’t look good, for either of you. Alicent and you haven’t crossed that line yet, but you toe it often. Just tethering on the edge of sexual as you are, it would be a scandal if you were to be found in the Queen’s rooms, naked and with her hands all over you.

Darkly, sometimes you wish it happened already. At least that way, she would recognize this, whatever that is growing between the two of you. But Alicent is too focused on pretending dutifulness that she can’t allow herself to want something that's not right in society's eyes.

Alicent looks around for a few seconds, eyes shifting from the objects in her vanity to your discarded clothes. She is looking for something to keep you quiet, as she often does. But today, nothing seems to please her. Finally, she takes off her necklace, and holds it in front of your lips. You open up, and she presses the pendant between your teeth.

“Keep it there. Don’t let it fall.” She orders, before bringing the hairbrush again over your vulnerable behind. You bite down on the metal, trying not to let it slip from between your teeth.

The taste of iron and the feel of it against your teeth it’s unpleasant, making you shudder as it bangs against your gums. The star shape isn't doing you any favors, either. There is no respite from the points when there are seven of them.

The pain it’s unbearable. The hits of the hairbrush seem more and more distant as you focus on not letting the medallion slip from between your lips. You can’t focus, starting to drool around it. Your cries remain muffled between clenched teeth, but you want to scream and scream and never stop.

Your problems fade away, leaving you in an impossible state of clarity. There is nothing on your mind but the pain. The impact of each hit and the knowledge that you can take one more for Alicent, that you can be good for her.

She keeps at it, cautious to keep an eye on your face. After a certain number of hits, her palms rub at your sore bottom and thighs, shushing you. The pause makes you want to cry even more.

Tears and drool are now freely running down your face. The points of the star dig at your gums, and you try to swallow down your sobs to not jostle it more.

Hurts. Hurts so bad. You are shaking. It feels as if your arms are unable to keep you upright anymore. Finally, you collapse, chest squished against the vanity, weak legs trembling, hips out for Alicent to keep at it.

She does, but in a much crueller manner. As you pant there, she turns the hairbrush over, and starts rubbing the bristles over your abused thighs and cheeks. You sob more, body shaking so hard you rattle the vanity.

Power through it, you say to yourself. You need to endure it. You need to be good. This is the only way. You have to take what she gives you, prove yourself. Pain it’s the only thing that will give you what you need now. A clean slate from your transgressions.

She is both lover and judge, your queen. Jury and executioner. Able to cleanse you from your sins and cradle your injured body, nurture you back to health. Back to piousness.

You wish you could spend eternity at her feet. Forgive me, Mother, you think to yourself. For I have sinned in my thoughts, all about her. In my words, to keep our secret. In what I have done, and in what I have failed to do. Her lips, her smile, her eyes. The fact that you never once kissed.

Alicent shushes you. Meanly, her nails drag against your cheeks. The metal inside your mouth tastes like expiation, slightly coppery and leaving a faint pain in your gums. Never had you felt closer to the Gods than now, confessing to your private Septon.

Your teeth clench more around the seven pointed star. She spanks you again, this time with her bare hand. You sob, focused on not letting go, no matter how much it hurts. It’s not only for her, that you need to be good. It’s for yourself.

You need to prove you are good, show that you have some worth. If any, that you are capable of obeying. But on the next hit, you are unable to keep the star inside your mouth, and you cry out, both in pain and despair.

You failed. You had one task and you failed. Your sobs turn more hysterical. Your stomach sinks. Suddenly, you can’t breathe. There is an ugly, choked sound on repeat. Like the cries of a hurt animal ringing in your ears. You realize too late that you are the one producing it.

Alicent looks up, and freezes.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She brushes your hair back, and kisses your temple. “You did so well. So well, it’s over now.”

She gathers you in her arms. It’s only then you notice the mess of drool and tears on your face has turned red.

“I’m sorry.” You hiccup. “I didn’t….”

“Shh, no. You did outstandingly. It was all my fault.” Alicent gently pries your lips open. You go with the motion, opening up for her. She checks your gums, very tenderly. There is a small gash on the inside of your cheek.

Alicent pours you a glass of wine.

“Rinse your mouth with that for me.”

Still a bit floaty, you do as she says, head bobbing lazily. Once you do, she helps you get dressed and sits by you, nursing her cup. You lay down on your side, looking at her.

She is so pretty it hurts. You give her a loopy smile. Alicent smiles back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alicent asks as you rest your head in her lap.

“No.” You reply, voice still a bit off. She rubs your shoulder blades, soothingly. Then, she leans towards a center table and reaches for a board filled with cheese and fruit.

“Here. Eat some.”

You blindly chew whatever Alicent presses against your lips. No matter what it was, coming from her hand, you would.

“I don’t want to go to my rooms.” You mutter, hiding your face in the folds of her skirt. You drop a kiss to her clothed knee and Alicent scratches your head just the way you like.

Every so often, you wonder where her mind is, when she is delivering what you clearly need. Her own pain, perhaps. How much she craves to be the one receiving the hits. You have seen the way her eyes glaze over, when your hands rest casually on the hairbrush.

Perhaps, she is thinking of her. The other woman she loved. You have an inkling of who she is, but you don’t dare even think of the name. They say, sometimes, spirits pay attention when we speak about them out loud. You don’t want to think about her, childishly afraid of jinxing it. Nor do you dare ask because some things are better not known.

Is that why she refuses to turn this thing of yours into something romantic? Is she too fearful of admitting she loves you?

You fear you know the answer, already. You are not a placeholder, or a substitute, but Alicent is too scared to acknowledge it. She prefers pretending this is nothing more than a Queen disciplining her subject.

This is easier, you convince yourself. You shouldn’t have spoken, you shouldn’t have asked to stay. Both of you got what you wanted. Pain. Control. Crime and punishment. You should be out of here.

There is a dreadful feeling of wrongness in this. A cold shiver that takes over you, as you try to get up and claim back a semblance of calm. Alicent feels it too. Her brows are pinched, conflicting emotions displayed in her eyes. Sadness, and a plea for you not to go. Yet, she doesn’t speak it out loud.

The silence stretches. Almost as if an angel had passed between the two of you, stealing your voices, burrowing the words that could not be spoken aloud.

Alicent’s hand reaches forward, quick as a viper. A shove, against your shoulder, making you stumble back into bed. You whimper, body still feeling bruised from your recent experience.

“Stay. Stay the night.”

“Your guards…” You protest, but you are already getting comfortable again, your head on her pillow. Drowning on the smell of her, her, her.

“Ser Criston won’t speak a word.”

So you stay. And the next morning, Alicent doesn’t exactly tell you she loves you, but you feel a little better anyway.

[satuguro]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ THUS ALWAYS TO TYRANTS

[ ACT I : EYES OF THE TIGER. ]

jacaerys velaryon x reader

#CONTAINS— not canon au, lady of a house! reader, flawed reader, later enemies to lovers, gore, blood, death, sexual content (later on in the series, after a time skip)

#AUTHORSNOTE— there will be some aspects of the original story that i changed. i added a new house that i created, and a lot of it has characteristics from greek and south east asian culture. reader has golden eyes purely for the plot, but remember, everything else is you. if you don’t like that i did any of these things, don’t read!

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV

there is very little known of house arslan.

jacaerys had only ever heard of them from stories and history books. they were the leaders of an entire group of islands, the islands of iona, in the summer sea, away from the mainland and further away from any war or politics. they were as careless about court politics as the north was, often keeping to themselves and only appearing when needed.

the first time jacaerys had ever seen someone from house arslan was when his family went to one of his grandfather’s events.

they didn’t brag, nor did they speak much about their home. they listened and observed to how some of the nobles bragged of their riches, spoke freely of their war strategies, and spoke so highly of themselves. jacaerys saw it, how they chose their words carefully and responded in such a way that left them satisfied, but made their house seem like a mystery.

it was as if they had played the game like that for all their years of reign. what was heard of them were usually rumors; whispers of strategic minds, their hidden animalistic ways, or the plague-ridden jungle of their island. but one rumor very few people have proven to be fact, were their tigers.

history books said that before the arslans, they were untamable. they ruled the jungle, and rightfully so— they were huge, fanged creatures with around 300 pounds of pure muscle. they were powerful, with the ability to rip their enemies to shreds, and the iona islands were infested with them.

he had noticed you then as he stood to the side of a snack table. you were surrounded by nobles in your gold and white clothing, standing next to your solemn father. his cane, adorned with a deep jade tiger head on the top, was gripped tightly by his left hand as he watched the other nobles around him. his hair was tied back into a low knot, and around his neck was a golden necklace of thorns.

the entire arslan house was known for their striking gold eyes, similar to that of a cat’s. and as jacaerys stared at the arslans, observing them similarly to how they were observing others, his eyes met golden ones.

you were observing him for much longer than he had been observing your family. you had mentally taken a note of him and his family upon your arrival to king's landing; the heir, princess rhaenyra, prince daemon, prince jacaerys, and his brother, prince lucerys. their names echoed in your head, mixed in with the other names; queen alicent, king viserys, lord otto hightower, prince aegon, and prince aemond.

"you are staring, brother," lucerys stated, hiding his smile behind a tart.

“she is staring too, luke,” jacaerys muttered, tearing his eyes away from the lady to send his brother a glare. “much longer than i have, actually.”

lucerys shrugged, his eyes moving to the different nobles gathered in the great hall. “i doubt that admitting it makes it any better.”

“the point is,” jacaerys huffed, fixing his clothing quickly, “she was looking first.”

their small bicker had left them distracted to your approach. you had excused yourself from your father and his conversation with princess rhaenyra and had quietly made your way to the snack table, where the two princes stood. you were trying your best to keep yourself from laughing, instead choosing to act casual.

you stood next to jacaerys, acting as though you hadn’t just snuck up to the princes. “although,” you mindlessly reached for a grape and carelessly interrupting their conversation, “i was more subtle in my staring.” you glanced at the princes, a witty smile gracing your face before you popped the grape into your mouth.

“i don’t believe you were,” jacaerys responded, raising a brow as he watched you move to stand in front of him and his brother.

“you can believe whatever you want to believe, my prince,” you clutched your hands in front of you, that witty smile of yours never once faltering, “but i am correct.”

a small snort was quickly covered by a cough. you turned your attention to lucerys, your eyes softening at the boyish charm he exuded as he tried (and failed) to hide his laughter behind his food. “it is a pleasure to finally meet you, prince lucerys.”

he reminded you of your older brother.

“luke is fine, lady arslan.”

“then feel free to call me y/n. ‘lady’ makes me feel old.” you turned your attention to the older prince, “you as well, prince jacaerys.”

“call me jace, please.” jacaerys sat up straight, holding a hand out towards you. “may i have a dance with you, lady arslan?”

you raised a brow at both his forwardness and his use of your title, “i told you, do not call me ‘lady’, my prince.”

“i will only stop if you refer to me only as jace.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, a small gesture of a challenge, before you placed your hand in his. softly, he closed his hand around your’s and led you into the dance.

“how do you like king’s landing so far, lady y/n?” jacaerys questioned, moving around you as you danced the celebration dance.

“it’s beautiful,” jacaerys lifted you up by the waist before placing you down again, “i have not been able to explore, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.” you moved around him yet again, a small smile on your face as you noticed he, like you, refused to find a different partner after that dance section. “may i ask you something, my prince?”

“jace.”

“how wonderful,” you held onto him as he lifted you once again. and yet again, you both refused to find another partner. “you know your own name.”

jacaerys rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself, “you’re a sarcastic one, aren’t you?”

“i never noticed.” you moved around him again, similarly to how a predator would move around an opponent. “as i was saying, my prince, why were you staring so intently at me and my family?”

your forwardness left jacaerys suddenly at a loss for words; the fact that he had been caught staring — intently, based on your words — was frankly, embarrassing. but he saw that ghost of a smirk on your lips as you looked at him with striking eyes. he saw the teasing glint in your irises that confirmed his assumption— you were teasing him.

he could feel his face heat up at your words, your hands reaching up to cheer a loud ‘hey!’ with the others. “you jest, lady y/n.”

“am not,” you grinned, the festivities’ contagious happiness influencing you much more than you would admit, “i’m just curious, that is all. you were so focused, ‘m just wondering what could have captivated you so much.”

your hands met in the middle, skin against skin, and you both moved in a slow circle; this time, connected. you could feel how warm he was, how his hand was larger than yours and littered with new callouses. yet, despite the callousness of his fingertips, his palm remained smooth.

he could feel the cold rings that adorned your fingers. the ring in the middle was stamped with your house’s tiger sigil, and the others were simple abstract bands. the gold was pressed against his skin, warming up at his touch, and jacaerys was captivated by it. he stared at your hands, his staring habit shining through once again before you spoke.

“you have not answered my question, my prince,” you murmured, curious eyes lingering on his face as you switched hands for the dance. yet again, skin touched skin. you swallowed thickly, a cheshire-like smile creeping onto your face, “your staring problem.. it’s showing.”

jacaerys coughed, face burning red as he mumbled, “no it is not, lady y/n.”

unbeknownst to the both of you, otto and alicent hightower sat at the front of the great hall, observing the prince blush like a school girl at your teasing. though, alicent didn’t pay much attention to you, for she was too preoccupied with the sense of pride bubbling in her chest at the success of the simple festivities. she had planned it all, for her dear husband was too sick to, and she succeeded. it was, well, festive; people were laughing and joking around, nobles were socializing, kids ran between the legs of their parents, and there was good food and music.

she invited everyone and brought everyone together. no one else did that but her.

but alicent felt her father’s presence next to her, watching her every move like a hawk, and she knew he had something to say about everything. for him, there was always something to say.

“do you not think that that sight is not even the least bit unusual?” otto asked behind his cup of wine, eyes focused on you and the young velaryon, both too drunk on the celebration to notice his stares.

“is there something unusual about it?” alicent questioned, keeping her voice as composed as ever. she sipped her wine, shaking her head to herself. “nobles have been wanting to dance with lady arslan since the dancing began.” she watched on as you and jacaerys raised your hands together, yelling out a ‘hey!’ that made you throw your head back in laughter. from the side, aemond stood almost broodingly, watching his nephew continue to dance with you. “i even overheard my boys talk about it,” alicent remarked, “aemond wanted to ask her to dance.”

otto raised a brow at that, all-too-thoughtful eyes looking down into his wine as he began to think. “house arslan is powerful, alicent. dislocated from the mainland, but powerful all the same.” he swirled his cup, gazing into the twirling red, “those tigers of theirs.. if princess rhaenyra was planning to wed them—”

“we do not know if that has been planned.”

“let us put it this way then,” otto gazed ahead of him, looking into the ending dance, “lady arslan and prince jacaerys have ended their dance together. they have left the celebration together,” his eyes lingered on the space where you and jacaerys last danced, now left empty while everyone cheered around it, “with no chaperone.”

the halls of the red keep, though normally busy with maids and guards, was quiet. echoes of the celebratory music and talking from the great hall was all that was left to ripple down the corridors. but that sound was soon accompanied by the sound of rushed footsteps.

you were almost breathless as you held your skirts up above your feet, running down the hall after jacaerys. the soles of your feet ached from the uncomfortable shoes you wore, but you were much too stubborn to let some prince beat you in a race he didn’t know he was a part of.

you slowed down to a walk as you saw him stop, your chest heaving as you made quick work of removing your tight shoes. “if i had not given you a head start, then you wouldn’t have been ahead of me.”

ignoring your comment, jacaerys tilted his head, watching you curse as you removed one shoe. “what are you doing, lady y/n?”

“these shoes,” you grumbled, reluctantly allowing the soles of your feet to touch the cold stone beneath them, “are the reason why i could not dance for much longer, and the reason why i could not run as fast as you.”

“maybe i’m better than you at both.”

“you’re funny, my prince.” you huffed as you stood back up, holding your shoes in your hands. “how long will it take for people to notice that we’ve gone?” you asked, looking at the prince.

it was a hasty decision, really. during the dance, you had made a comment about not truly getting a tour of the red keep due to your arrival the night prior, and jacaerys — ever the gentleman — asked you if you wanted one. he would be your guide through the castle, but you both had to be hasty with your stroll. it was a mutual decision; a rather irresponsible one due to your titles, but a mutual decision nonetheless.

truthfully, you didn’t think that he would be so willing to leave the festivities; much less offer to leave with you, alone.

“if we stand here and converse, i suppose not long,” jacaerys quipped, holding his hands out towards your shoes in your hands. “may i?”

“prince jacaerys wants to carry my shoes,” you stated, as though in disbelief at the thought of any prince wanting to hold another’s shoes. still, you placed your shoes in his hands, and he fixed them under one arm.

“a wonderful and correct inference, lady y/n.”

“oh, just get on with the tour.” you walked quickly ahead of him, forcing him to quicken his stride alongside you. a comfortable silence befell the both of you, the muffled sounds of the party left long behind you.

you decided that the red keep was much more serious than your home. it stood tall and proud, practically untouched and unscarred. your home in iona was nothing of the sort; your people embraced nature, and so nature became its focus. stones were accompanied by vines and vines by its flowers and thorns. the mainland, in a way, was blind to the beauty of unkempt nature.

“i assume that you haven’t seen the streets of king’s landing yet, huh?” jacaerys questioned, turning to look at you. the gold of your clips, which were shaped as thorns, on your hair glistened under the light of the torches. he had heard that only the house of arslan wore thorns as a sign of their nobility on their islands. the motif adorned your arm bands and your rings; it was beautiful, he had concluded.

“regretfully, no,” you gazed at some of the tapestries you passed, “my father is rather cautious when we are on the mainland. unfamiliar territory.”

“the streets can be fairly dangerous, lady y/n,” jacaerys hummed, “but it can be beautiful. you just have to look at it from a certain angle.”

“a certain angle,” you echoed, “what angle is that, my prince?”

“patience, lady y/n.” jacaerys grinned a boyish grin, “i’m not done getting to know you yet.”

you snorted at his poor attempt at flirting (though that was a rather strong assumption to make), nudging the prince with your shoulder as you walked. how odd was it, that you were nudging prince jacaerys — the future heir to the throne — as though he was merely a boy of ten and six years? while that last part was true, it was still an unusual idea for you to comprehend; you were walking with the prince, alone, barefoot, as he held your shoes.

“don’t do that—“ jacaerys laughed, fixing your shoes under his arm, “i thought that it was a fairly good delivery.”

“oh, quite definitely. you will have women falling at your feet in no time, my prince.” you moved to situate yourself in front of him, walking backwards down the corridor. “for a tour, there are not too many historic comments being made. nor has there been any significant landmarks.”

“that is because this isn’t a tour, lady y/n.” jacaerys swiftly moved to walk next to you yet again, forcing you to turn yourself forward. ahead of you stood a rather large door, one he opened ever so slightly. with an outstretched hand, he motioned for you to enter first. “lady y/n,” he commented, making you roll your eyes and place your hand in his yet again.

the breeze outside had some strength to it, but its temperature was moderate as you stood out on the balcony alongside jacaerys. it was completely dark except for the two torches next to the door, but the lack of light was truly worth it for the view you had.

below you, the streets of king’s landing was lit up with its street lights. even at night it was bustling with markets, entertainment, music, and people, all glowing under the lights that decorated the streets. the lines of light that went down the streets seemed to stretch on for miles, the lines getting smaller as they did, but still as bright as ever. you could see the houses and their windows, some of them open to let the breeze in. lines of the city went on for miles and almost surrounded the red keep.

“this was the angle i was speaking of,” jacaerys said, leaning against the railing as he stared at the city alongside you. your shoulders were touching with how close the two of you were, and there was a certain amount of warmth that came with it that left comfort in his heart. he looked at you, thankful that you were too enamored in the city to notice how he was staring yet again.

“it’s breathtaking,” you murmured, too focused on the lights to come up with a witty remark. you turned to him to find him staring at you already, his face unreadable. “when did you think of bringing me here?”

“you said that you have not seen the streets of king’s landing because your father was cautious,” jacaerys shrugged, tearing his eyes away from you to look at the star filled sky, “i believe that this is the best solution; a safe yet beautiful way to see king’s landing at night.”

you couldn’t help the genuine smile that appeared on your face at his words. the fact that he had thought of such a way to let you see the city was a gesture you honestly wouldn’t just let go as if it was nothing. “you’re a good man, my prince.”

“you would think that after i bring you here, you would at least call me jace,” jacaerys said, a laugh escaping him as you rolled your eyes and nudged him yet again. “c’mon, lady y/n, just call me jace.”

“okay, jace,” you grinned at him, failing to notice the blush on his face, “you are quite persuasive. you’ll make a good king some day.”

after your brother disappeared, you had learned to trust your gut instinct.

you had a horrible habit of thinking too much into things that it clouded your judgement. your older brother, magnus, always noticed when you’d ‘drift away’ from conversation whenever something hooked your mind.

he’d always nudge you softly, saying a small, “keep yourself grounded, sister,” that always brought you back.

his disappearance had left you to deal with those moments on your own. even after three years and being the age of six and ten, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to do it at times. but all those criticizing thoughts always began with that tugging feeling in your gut.

that was what you felt now, as you and jacaerys made your way back to the festivities. because in the distance, a silhouette of a tall and lanky man came into view before you both could continue down the hallway. there it was— the tugging feeling in your stomach that signaled that something was not right. hesitantly, you took your shoes from jacaerys, interrupting his talk about his dragon.

“lord hightower,” jacaerys stated, the rest of his words dying in his throat as he looked up at the hand of the king. he, too, felt that pit in his stomach, for while you knew nothing much of the man, jacaerys knew enough of him to not trust him.

“prince jacaerys, lady arslan,” otto’s stern eyes flashed your way, looking down briefly at the shoes you held, before returning to the prince, “how nice it is to find the both of you,” he clasped his hands together, towering over the both of you, “i am sure that you are missed in the celebration.” his tone was sharp, implying something else entirely as he stood in front of you.

“we were just making our way back, lord hightower,” you responded, cursing yourself for the slight waver in your voice. “it was a pleasure to see you.” ever so quickly, you moved past the man, jacaerys following closely behind you. goosebumps ran up and down your arms at the feeling of eyes behind your back, and as you turned your head to look, you saw lord otto hightower’s eyes burn holes into you.

the walk to the entrance of the great hall was quiet, the both of you basking in the relief that came with avoiding a possible consequence. you stopped to the side of the entrance, leaning down to fix your shoes back on before you stood back up. you fixed your hair the best you could (the wind from the balcony had done a number on you, you were sure of it), turning to the prince. “how do i look?”

jacaerys looked at you then, standing under a torchlight, and felt his mouth run dry. the good bands that decorated your arms shone bright under the flames, and he could see the dusting of crushed seashells on your skin that left it glittering. your golden eyes shone bright as they stared at him, waiting for his answer. “good,” he murmured, and that was (thankfully) enough for you.

“good.” you nodded your head, peeking into the great hall before turning to him, “are you ready, jace?”

“as long as you are, y/n.”

you both slipped into the great hall, easily blending in with the crowd as you made your way to where your father stood. he was in front of princess rhaenyra and prince daemon, both of whom were sitting in their respective seats at the front of the great hall. you moved to stand next to your father, your presence making him turn his head towards you and raise a brow.

“princess rhaenyra, prince daemon,” you bowed your head slightly, as your curtsied, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you both.”

jacaerys slipped into his seat next to his mother, ignoring the look daemon gave him as he quickly fixed his hair and clothes. he reached for his cup, feigning exhaustion from dancing.

rhaenyra looked at you, your hair (while honestly, still well pinned back) slightly messy, and the entrance of her eldest son with messier hair. a small smile graced the heir’s face, and she made a mental note to gently tease her son about it later. “it’s wonderful to meet you, lady arslan. i hope you enjoyed the dances as much as my son has.”

your face reddened at the comment, but you nodded in response, “indeed.”

“y/n, i was inviting princess rhaenyra and her family to stay in iona for some time,” lord aegeus commented, and you raised your brows at that.

after your brother’s disappearance, very little visitors had visited iona. there were the occasional diplomats and traders, but no one with as much importance as the heir and her family. your father had become a shadow of himself after he lost your mother upon your birth, and after magnus was gone, he threw himself into focusing only on his people and you. to hear that he was offering to house the heir was, frankly, completely unlike him.

“it would be wonderful to finally see iona’s islands,” princess rhaenyra said, “i have always wanted to go there as a child. it’s always seemed so beautiful.”

“iona will surely welcome you,” lord aegeus responded, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “how does visiting in two weeks time sound? if it is allowed in your schedule, princess.”

you felt that feeling again as they continued to talk; the feeling of eyes burning into your skull. you looked down the right of the table in front of you, gazing past the throne and to the hightowers. both of them were listening to everything princess rhaenyra and lord aegeus was saying.

ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV

#AUTHORSNOTE— surprise, i write for house of the dragon now. sorry if i get anything wrong in regards to the titles, greetings, etc! i'll start a tag list if people are interested in this. feel free to send me asks about this series!

[browngonzo888]

Mindwarp (Psychonauts OC)

Entry 34. 2/16/2000

Mindwarp. Illusionist extraordinaire. Weapon of choice: A helmet powered by the smallest amount of psilirium, which she uses to distort and alter the minds of her enemies as well as manipulate innocent people into zombie-like obedience. Only a handful of Psychonaut agents- including myself, are capable of resisting her mind bending waves. Otherwise, her influence can be undone by music.

Mindwarp is a protege of Sandmind, the most prolific criminal to ever be taken down by the Psychonauts since the downfall of Maligula. Before the reign of Mindwarp, she was known as Betty Nott, a former mentee of Otto Mentallis. She showed promise under his tutelage, but ran away to avoid punishment after she tried to control the mind of her mentor with his own devices. Some few years after that, she joined Sandmind, who trained her further in the arts of Illusion and encouraged her work in mind-controlling devices. 

Her latest work; the mindwarp broadcast. Her helmet alone isn’t as powerful as she’d like it to be (I’m guessing too much psilirium  would be counterintuitive), so she has attempted to create an amplified version of her helmet’s power by hijacking public broadcasting systems and devices. Most recently, Agent Zanotto and I unearthed her temporary lair off the coast of Southern Oregon. We didn't find any psilirium at the scene, but we did find a personal laptop with coded messages to an outsider. Couldn’t be Sandmind, he’s in a coma and being heavily guarded in a max GPC in a remote location only known to the Psychonauts.

Mindwarp’s current status: Thwarted, but still at large for nearly a month.

-- Eggbeater

[kieraspsychonautssideblog]

If Otto's Mental World was going to be a DLC, I imagine it would have plenty of new enemies to share.

I've been thinking of one based on the Imaginary Audience. An enemy born from the idea that everyone is watching you. Maybe they could disguise themselves as figments before attacking you or something. Because imagination.

I've also been thinking of more mini-boss-like enemies.

Like a much larger Regret that swings a ball and chain around, born from the regret of not checking Helmut's brain more thoroughly and leaving him in the Brainframe for 20 years.

Like a Nightmare that uses the glass of the Heptadome like mirrors to hide in and uses the Astralathe as a weapon, born from the guilt and trauma caused by the Astralathe (and possibly the knowledge that Ford used it to shatter his own mind.)

Like a Panic Attack that's more aquatic-like, with frostbite and icy sores growing on it, but still with a burning fire in it, born from the memory of accidentally freezing Helmut during the battle with Maligula.

New enemy ideas are fun to think about.

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Amidst the whirl of the ball, Maera spent the evening diligently at her father's side, exchanging pleasantries and forced smiles with potential suitors, doing her utmost to banish the memory of her encounter with Aemond. Another trip to the dance floor paired her with the heir of House Swyft, who she had not had chance to speak to properly whilst in the presence of Lord Jason Lannister. Although he seemed to be a well-intentioned man, he proved to be painfully shy. Their dance was a mechanical execution of choreography, neither of them truly engaged enough to strike up a meaningful dialogue

As the evening wore on, the grand feast was announced, and Maera found herself seated beside her father, Lord Jasper, at a table laden with delectable dishes. The aroma of roasted meats, the laughter of revelers, and the clinking of goblets filled the air, creating an atmosphere of merriment and indulgence that defined the essence of the event. Maera’s attention drifted from the food to the small talk with those sitting nearby, including Lord Peake and the heir to the Golden Tooth seat, Lord Lefford. Both men held the promise of advantageous alliances, and Maera added their names to her mental list of potential suitors.

Lord Jasper, sensing her unease, remarked, "You are quiet this evening, child."

In response, Maera half-joked, "I think the wine must have gone to my head," eliciting a chuckle from her father.

Desiring a distraction, she scanned the lengthy banquet tables and caught the eye of Lord Warren Tully, a few seats away. He raised his cup to her with a warm smile, and she returned the gesture, relieved to focus on someone other than Prince Aemond. Maera then turned her attention to the royal table, carefully avoiding looking in the direction of the One-eyed Prince, sensing his intense gaze upon her, to look at her friend the Queen. Helaena looked more uncomfortable than ever sat next to her brother-husband, the inebriated King Aegon, whose posture grew increasingly slouched, much to the disapproval of his mother, Queen Alicent.

Amidst the nobles' chatter and the clinking of goblets, Lord Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, brought the room's attention to the royal table. He did so with a sharp tap of his fork against his glass, signaling that an announcement was imminent. “We must acknowledge how fortunate we all are to be gathered here this evening. The Gods have truly smiled down upon the rightful heir ascending the iron throne by blessing Westeros with a blessed Harvest.”

The assembled nobles erupted in applause and cheers, though Maera couldn't help but roll her eyes discreetly. It was evident that the speech should have been delivered by Aegon, who, judging by his drunken state, seemed incapable of even standing upright. Undeterred, Otto Hightower continued his oration, announcing several honored guests to the grand hall.

“It brings me great joy to announce that the Kings youngest brother, Prince Daeron, the ward of Oldtown, has returned to Kings Landing.”

The nobles responded with cheers and clapping as Maera shifted her gaze to the youngest prince on the left side of the hall, whom she hadn't seen in over a decade. Daeron had grown into a man, with short, curly silver hair and the same bright violet eyes that ran in their Targaryen bloodline. He wore green robes and appeared rather bashful under the attention. Maera couldn't help but smile, noting how much Daeron had come to resemble her own brother, Gwyn.

“The courtship of Queen Helaena’s lady-in-waiting and dearest friend, the Lady Maera of House Wylde has officially begun,” the Hand of the King announced to the room, causing an eruption of applause once more, and leaving Maera taken aback by the public acknowledgment. “The Master of Laws daughter has proved to be a valuable ally upon her return to the Capital, much like her father. The King and Queen would like to wish the contenders for her hand good fortune in their endeavours.”

Maera nodded graciously at the nobles who celebrated Otto’s announcement, looking to her father who bore a a smile of pride. She couldn’t help but be pleased that Lord Jasper seemed happy with her for once. The attention was brought back to the Hand once more as he concluded his speech, he revealed one more guest of honor, as the anticipation in the room grew.

“Finally, it brings me great pride to welcome Lady Floris Baratheon, our future Princess by marriage to Prince Aemond, to court this evening. Once the war is won, there will be another great celebration in this hall for their union.”

Maera's gaze shifted across the room to where Lady Floris was seated at a long table. She couldn't help but be taken aback by the woman's appearance. Lady Floris possessed a tall, slender figure, a stark contrast to Maera's curvaceous form. Her skin was flawless and pale, and she had a captivating doe-eyed expression as she gazed toward the royal table. Maera couldn't deny that Lady Floris was stunning, but beneath her admiration simmered a hint of bitterness.

Turning her gaze to Aemond, she wondered whether he would grow content with this match, especially given Lady Floris' remarkable beauty. Aemond, who had been intently listening to his grandfather's speech, reached for his goblet and took a drink, his eyes wandering across the room until they locked onto Maera once more. Maera couldn't discern the emotion in her own expression, and Aemond's unwavering gaze didn't offer any clues about his thoughts either.

To mask her inner turmoil, Maera shifted her attention to the wine, lifting her goblet and taking deep, steady sips in a desperate attempt to clear her mind.

After engaging in more small talk with potential suitors and indulging in several more goblets of wine, Maera's gaze once again drifted across the room to where Queen Helaena stood, looking rather uncomfortable. Helaena was by her mother Queen Alicent's side, silently observing her husband King Aegon as he flirted with other noblewomen in his inebriated state.

Determined that she'd had enough of the evening's social niceties, Maera made her way toward Queen Helaena. She approached her friend, politely asking, "My Queen, would you like to get some fresh air on the balcony before retiring for the evening?" To this, Helaena replied with a relieved smile and a nod of agreement. As Maera escorted Helaena outside, she noticed Queen Alicent's grateful look, appreciating Maera's care for her daughter.

The balcony offered a peaceful atmosphere compared to the bustling grand hall. The Harvest Moon hung bright and blue against the black night sky, a breathtaking sight. Maera produced a jug of wine, offering some to Helaena, who accepted the gesture. Both women took deep sips, their gaze fixed on the starry expanse above.

Maera took a moment to express her apologies to Helaena. "I'm sorry I haven't spent as much time with you this evening," she admitted, her voice tinged with sincerity. Helaena, understanding the necessity of Maera's interactions with potential suitors, replied with empathy, "It's quite all right, Maera. I hope you met some interesting suitors?"

Now quite tipsy from the wine, Maera found herself overwhelmed with a maelstrom of emotions. She silently feared that her father might betroth her to a dreadful lord who would not respect her but simply use her to produce heirs. She felt a twinge of jealousy toward Lady Floris and her beauty, along with a nagging concern about Aemond's feelings toward his intended. These unwelcome thoughts left her both angry and confused about why she cared so much.

Maera rested her head in her hands, struggling to hold back tears. She wondered aloud threw sobs, "I hate that I was born a woman. I don’t think I will ever be truly happy."

Helaena, the supportive friend, draped her arm around Maera's shoulder, reassuring her, "We will always have each other." Maera nodded in agreement, finding solace in Helaena's comforting presence under the moonlit sky.

As Maera and Helaena embraced each other, finding solace in their friendship amid the evening's chaos, a low, unsettling moan disrupted their moment of comfort. Turning, they were met with the sight of King Aegon, ridiculously drunk and leaning against a nearby pillar. His words, laced with vulgarity, hung heavily in the air.

"What a beautiful sight to see two women holding each other," Aegon slurred, his drunkenness evident. "Although, it would be a more beautiful sight if neither of you were wearing any clothes."

Helaena fell silent, discomfort etched across her face, while Maera, her protective instincts kicking in, shielded her friend from the king by stepping in front of the Helaena, her expression a mix of disgust and defiance. In response to Aegon's inappropriate comment, she asked, "What do you want?"

Aegon's drunken grin wavered as he attempted to regain his composure. "I hope you're happy," he mumbled, "that I agreed to make you future husband the Master of Coin. Perhaps, my Lady, you will come forgive me for... my urges taking over me all those weeks ago.”

Rolling her eyes at the absurdity of his statement, Maera offered a sarcastic, "Thank you, Your Grace, for such an honor."

Aegon, his attention briefly diverted from Maera, turned his eyes Queen Helaena. He looked his sister-wife up and down, pupils expanded with a clear look of lust on his face. With a commanding tone, he ordered her, "Go to our chambers."

Maera, however, refused to let her friend be subjected to Aegon's whims. She stood protectively in front of Helaena and gently assured her, "You don't have to go with him, Helaena."

In the tense moment, Maera couldn't help but confront the drunken king with a touch of defiance. She looked Aegon directly in the eyes and said, "Perhaps, Your Grace, you should find a whore to warm your bed, instead of subjecting the Queen to such disappointments." Her words were laced with a biting edge, clearly meant to challenge the king's audacity.

Aegon's gaze darkened, and he retorted sharply, "You will not stand in the way of me rightfully claiming my wife."

Helaena, caught between her husband and her loyal friend, took a step away from Maera and stood by Aegon's side, her eyes reflecting the defeat she felt within.

Despite the tension and Aegon's crude remarks, he couldn't resist running a finger across his wife’s jaw, wearing a sly smile as he continued, "Helaena knows the way of things. Perhaps, Lady Maera, you should educate yourself if you wish to please your future husband." Helaena's apologetic glance only deepened the awkwardness of the situation.

Maera, her smile forced and her tone dripping with insincerity, replied, "Thank you, Your Grace, for your wisdom and guidance. I will keep your advice close to my heart."

Aegon, still with his fingers on Helaena’s jaw, observed Maera carefully, looking her up and down as he did his wife, finally choosing to fixate on her breasts, biting his lip as he purred, “You are always welcome to join me and your Queen in our chambers, my lady.” Queen Helaena looked at Maera with a terrified look in her eyes.

The wine in her body made it impossible to her not to gag, but Maera managed to put her hand over her mouth as if to contain the shock of the audacious suggestion Aegon had just made. She regained her composure and replied to the King, "I shall decline your request, your Grace. But rest assured, one day, I will repay your kindness, which you have so generously bestowed not only upon me but also onto your wife."

Aegon, seemingly unfazed by her words, turned and left with Helaena, retreating to their shared chambers, leaving Maera on the balcony, seething with anger and frustration at the King's disgraceful conduct.

The night wore on, the sounds of music and revelry from the ball still drifting through the open doors onto the balcony where Maera remained. She continued to drown her sorrows in wine, the alcohol providing temporary relief from the evening's discomfort. In the solitude of the night air, she hid from the ball, her father's expectations, and her looming responsibilities.

Eventually, Ser Arryk, ever the vigilant knight, approached his lady. He inquired with a gentle tone, "My lady, would you like to be escorted back to your chambers?" Maera, her voice laden with the weight of the evening and the alcohol flowing through her, nodded solemnly. "Yes," she sighed, "I've had quite enough of this evening."

As they made their way inside, Maera made a request of her loyal knight. "Please, Ser Arryk, escort me discreetly. I don't want my father or any potential suitors to see me in this state," she implored. The knight, understanding her wish, readily agreed to her request. Walking on the outskirts of the event, they managed to sneak away undetected. Before leaving the grand hall entirely, Maera cast one last gaze upon the festivities. Her eyes wandered across the room, observing the dancing couples, the joyous faces, and the Iron Throne glistening at the back of the hall.

But then, something unexpected caught her eye. Queen Alicent and Prince Aemond were engaged in a conversation with Lady Floris Baratheon, Aemond's future bride. Their faces bore distant expressions that concealed the nature of their discussion. Maera couldn't discern whether it was the wine or the perplexing emotions from earlier in the evening, but seeing Aemond and Floris together ignited an uncontrollable fury within her. Without a word, she stormed her way back to her chambers, leaving Ser Arryk with a curt, "Thank you for your service, Ser. Please, go and enjoy the rest of your evening."

Once within her chambers, the night became a blur. Maera didn't remember Thena helping her undress, but it was apparent that she must have, as there was no way she could have managed on her own. Collapsing onto her bed, her drunken state and exhaustion took over, and she drifted into sleep. But even in her dreams, she could not seem to escape the turmoil within her.

In her mind, she found herself standing in the heart of a lavish chamber, its opulent decor shimmering in the soft candlelight. At the center of it all stood two figures, their faces bathed in desire. Aemond, with his doublet unfastened, revealing his broad shoulders and toned torso, gazed lustfully at Floris Baratheon, wearing a sheer night gown, her hair lose, the black waves cascading down her back. Aemond kept his eyes on Maera as he spun the girl around, her back now to his chest, as he slid the nightgown on Floris off of one shoulder, peppering kisses onto her bare skin.

With an animalistic surge of energy, he ripped the fabric completely, revealing Floris’s completely naked form. She was even more perfect underneath her clothes, not a hair out of place. Her breasts were small and perky, nipples standing to attention at the feeling of the cold. Using one hand, Aemond cupped Floris’s breast, gently squeezing the pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and used the other hand to trail down her stomach before reaching her heat, eliciting a soft whine from the Baratheon girl’s mouth. Aemond never broke eye contact with Maera as he whispered something inaudible into Floris’s ear, before his fingers parted her folds and began rubbing on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Maera’s desperation grew, and she cried out, begging for the dream to end. But the dream, relentless in its portrayal of her deepest desires and fears, continued. Floris began to whine and squirm as he moved his fingers to her entrance, thrusting in and out of her at a brutal pace, not distracted even when he went to unclasp his belt and unlace his breeches. Maera could only watch in horror as the scene continued to unfold before her, closing her eyes and putting her hands to her ears to prevent her hearing anymore sounds.

Suddenly, the scene shifted. Maera found herself not as a bystander but as the plaything at Aemonds mercy. She felt the wetness in between her legs increase, and rubbed her thighs together to try and relieve some of the building pressure. Maera’s attention was then drawn to Aemond’s body behind her, his grasp had now moved from her heat to her hips, holding her in place as he grinded against her, the hardness of his cock evident against her arse. He sharply bent her over and slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her folds, moaning her name desperately, lustfully…

The sun has risen, a gentle, golden light that bathed the chambers in a tranquil glow, however the light was too bright for Maera to handle. Thanks to her overindulgence of wine and terrible quality of sleep, all that Maera was left with was a pounding headache, a stain of moon’s blood on her sheets, and the haunting realisation of what the dream had meant. Maera desired Aemond, in more ways than one. With a defeated groan, she pulled her sheet over her head, begging for the day to be over before it had already begun.

Note: Haven’t had a bit of smut in a while! Enjoy, my sister-wives 😘

Tags: @marvelescvpe @grungegrrrl @blue-serendipity @ammo23 @shesjustanothergeek

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[ufolvr]

Kit Karyotype

Aliases: Krait, Nekrom

Age: 36-42

Pronouns: he/they/it/she*

(if I feel like it. please dont use it yourself.)

Species: Anguipera Venenata

Height: 1,75m standing, ~70cm on all fours

Alignment: this specific version is Good!

Media: SMTAS, AEMH, TSSM. Tl;dr Marvel Toons

(f/os are sorted by color too! To make things easier :-])

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Skills:

Necrotic venom

Wall climbing

Teleportation

Camouflage/color changing

Extremely precise scent recognition

Thought projection + suggestion/behavior influence. Not exactly hypnosis or mind control, but a strong suggestion that leaves the mind malleable. He's also not a telepath; his only skill is making you hear His thoughts.

Other:

Mediation/negotiation/bargaining

Medicine and caregiving

Planning

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Relationships

Mac Gargan, Sarah (Gargan?), Curt + Martha Connors: romantic

Rhino, Otto Octavius, Quentin Beck, Flint Marko, Adrian Toomes: platonic

Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne, Ultron, Vision, Whirlwind: Eddie Brock, Shocker: it's complicated/undecided

Peter Parker: truce in SMTAS, allies in TSSM

The Avengers: depends on the narrative. Enemies for now.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Since Kit is the only oc I have for Marvel, he has at least 3 different backstories, and I don't have time to write down each one! This is for TSSM only, because it's what I'm focused on at the time of making this! That one is also a bifurcated road, though; this is the non-villain version of it. We'll get to Electro later, promise 💛

Kit is an amnesiac alien that crash landed somewhere in the New York Bay a year before the series kicked up. With no memory of his origins, abilities, or even name, Kit crawls out of the water to seek help on land a few days later.

However, this only served to get him cornered by police since his odd looks were stirring up trouble. Scared, alone, and afraid for his life in a place he didn't know, he lunges at one of the officers, and bites his arm with strength he didn't know he had.

Everyone, Kit included, watches, horrified, as the cop's arm melts away in less than a minute. It's a disgusting mess, and Kit is even more scared now that he knows there's no way they're letting him out alive. Exhausted and desperate, he can only bring himself to curl up and mentally shout for them to leave him alone.

Surprisingly, this seems to work - every officer surrounding him is stunned, frozen in place. Had Kit been graced with more time or a working memory of his powers, he would have definitely taken advantage of the situation to make sure they didn't remember this traumatizing event. Since he had neither at the time, all he did was run off, hoping he wouldn't be followed.

Nothing of interest happened in the following year. There were rumors about a monstrous fish creature circulating now - they called him 'Krait' apparently, some even jokingly referring to the creature as 'Nekrom' if they knew about what happened that night - but Kit's life wasn't interesting because of it. All he did was try to survive in this noisy, unfamiliar world without, living off of weird hiding places and less than pleasant food sources. He did take to calling himself "Krait", though - it sounded familiar enough, and he didn't have anything else.

Eventually, we jump to the night of "Natural Selection", where Kit's hideout for the day is the Reptile House at the nearby zoo. He witnesses the whole lizard mess, of course - and he watches long enough to see the beast transform back into Curt Connors.

As the commotion ends, Kit is struck with an idea to give himself a lead into learning his identity, since he wasn't getting anything alone - he'd seen Curt in the news before, and, as far as he knew, a geneticist was his best bet at discovering the truth about himself. Better yet, a geneticist that was very much not likely to call the cops now, after everything he'd done.

Kit hangs around the campus in secret from then on - having rediscovered his camouflage and wall climbing abilities in the meantime, he puts them to good use - and waits out for a night where Curt enters the lab alone. One person was easier to convince - besides, however horrible it made Kit feel for doing things this way, Curt's guilt was the only somewhat solid footing he had in this situation, and he was banking on it for his own safety.

The rain is pouring as Curt hurries into the lab because he forgot something, doesn't matter what. Unbeknownst to him, Kit is already in the room, and plans to keep him there until he complies with his terms - he's desperate.

The doors are locked and the lights suddenly go out. Curt isn't really alarmed - not until he notices there's a person in the lab with him. He's ready to fight for his life, if he has to - he was in the military, after all.

But before Kit can say anything, a particularly deafening thunder surrounds them, making the windows shake hard enough that they seemed close to shattering. Kit let's out a loud yelp, and scurries under the nearest table, trembling.

This lessens Curt's apprehension - it's hard to be scared of someone who's afraid of something your son got over his fear of years ago - and he turns the lights back on. Not willing to leave whoever it might be in his lab alone, he approaches the table he saw them hide under - carefully, of course.

And, well. That's how they meet! Kit does end up talking it out with Curt, and they come to an agreement since it's hard to turn down the offer to study something you'd never seen before, even harder if you know they might not be from your planet. Over the months, Curt, Martha and Kit get closer as they work together to figure out Kit's origins, and since Kit has nowhere to go and doesn't know anyone else, he mostly sticks with them one way or another.

Ik this ending is a bit abrupt but I don't wanna keep u here even longer ^^;;

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Notes

Before recovering his memories, Kit is terrible at fighting. His expertise is manipulating people and situations so things go his way.

Because I don't care for making more than 1 Marvel oc, Kit's story is all over the place. Seems to me like his basis of operations is New York no matter what, though. Also, the TSSM one is more interesting to me atm, bc I get to explore a Kit that had the privilege of being treated with kindness and patience.

Kit also knows who Spider Man is, and this makes some things complicated while simplifying others. If Peter wants to, he can get his internship back without exposing his identity, no problem. But he feels insanely uneasy when he bonds with the symbiote, for reasons he can't pin down...

He'll get his memories back, eventually! He's very eager to tell Billy (and everyone else, but he really does love this kid too) everything he knows and all the planets he's been to :)! The truth is that Kit has a little bit more in the works, but I'll wait till I finish the series to write more!

[aquato-family-circus]

any fun ideas for more mental enemies? for me I think an Ear worm would be a fun boss type enemy (as in a song stuck in your head)

once when i was deeply lost in the sauce of dreaming up Otto's brain level, I gave the bad ideas an evolution called pet project

pet projects have much brighter, larger range bulb explosions but they only have 1 before they burn out and so they're imposing in a swarm but just kinda sad pathetic beasts on their own who try to preserve themselves as long as possible

and they're called that bc in my otto brain concept Otto is so intensely focused on his work that his bad ideas become worse, for the sake of the project he's working on obviously. Otto's overcharged work ethic/narrow focus personified (0tt0, who's the main antagonist of this level concept) has a pet project as his cat he pets when swiveling around in his evil chair

[presidentstalkeyes]

Psychonauts concept time: Otto's mental enemy!

I'm probably wrong about this, but I kinda get the impression that Otto's mind was meant to be a level in Psychonauts 2 - probably the precursor to Ford's Follicles (in the same way that Compton's Cookoff and PSI King's Sensorium preceded Strike City and Cruller's Correspondence respectively), but for whatever reason it was scrapped, leaving Otto as the 'odd one out'.

I don't have a clear concept of what Otto's mind would be like (others have done it far better, anyways :V), but I know a recurring theme with him is emotional repression. So just as the rest of the Psychic six got new enemies fitting their issues (Helmut's panic attacks, Compton's self-judgment, etc), Otto's would be the personification of repression. Essentially a Censor gone rogue and fed by a steady diet of fear, transforming it into something much more dangerous.

Repressor

The ultimate narc

The Repressor is a humanoid figure resembling a cross between a monstrous firefighter and a monstrous riot cop - clad in thick armour and a face like a gas mask (the nature of its armour varies depending on the mind - in Otto's mind it looks like modern body armour, in Lucrecia's it's made of thick quilts and pincushions, in Gristol's it's a suit of medieval Grulovian plate, etc.). Very tall, even taller than Judgments, but not as wide.

It comes in two phases. In its first phase, it plods around the mental battlefield at a snail's pace, attacking at long range with a giant fire extinguisher strapped to its back, not only doing damage but also pushing Raz away. If Raz gets close, it can knock him down with a heavy melee attack, leaving him on the ground like the Panic Attacks. If Raz doesn't get back up, the Repressor will grab him and dropkick him across the room, possibly into a bottomless pit.

Curiously, it can also spit Personal Demons out of its 'mouth', which chase after Raz and explode. The Personal Demons can be stunned with any attack and picked up with Telekinesis, turning them against the Repressor.

The Repressor's armour renders it immune to almost all attacks. The only way to harm it is through PSI Punch or by chucking explosives at it - doing this will knock off bits of its armour.

After it loses enough armour, revealing a body made of gnarled, burned wood, its eyes start glowing red with fire, exposing it as a Nightmare in humanoid form. The Repressor is the very thing it's trying to repress, similar to how attempting to repress uncomfortable emotions can only feed them, creating even more fear and anxiety over having to confront those emotions.

In its second phase, the Repressor is much faster and more aggressive, sprinting and dodging attacks with ease. Ditches the fire extinguisher for dual-wielding flare guns, rapid-firing huge fireballs (which Raz can Matrix-dodge because why not?), it will punt Raz away at close range, and it retains its ability to summon Personal Demons. However, without its armour, it is vulnerable to all attacks, especially Pyrokinesis. Sometimes you gotta confront a nasty emotion head-on to expose its true ugliness, after all.

Using Clairvoyance on it reveals it sees Raz as an angry little devil holding a protest sign reading 'DOWN WITH BATHS!'

[hollowsart]

I know that you ship Acadia with Mysterio and Otto ( at least I think you still ship her with him ) I just want to know

What if they’re doing a crime or something, and of course Cryptic Clawer is there, but… what if she was like really sad before this, like if they were fighting

What would these they do if all of sudden they just heard her start crying?

..I do yeah. With both. Simultaneously. They're both too good. I refuse to make a decision and pick just 1.

But as for your question:

Otto isn't a villain, he's my companion, partner in crime fighting. He is not a sidekick, however, mind you. He is doing his best to be seen and treated as a hero all on his own.

He would use his arms to guard and give time to check on me. Otto sees the importance of mental and emotional health, but would ask if I was hurt first before inquiring about something like that with me out of instinct. Being put in a spot of fighting an enemy while being in such a bad place mentally and emotionally is definitely not the best thing. He'd do what he can to try and help and speed up the fight in our favor so he can focus on helping me.

He values comfort, helps me to understand it's ok to put myself first more since.. I do have a habit of brushing some deep troubles under the rug. He'd like to help clean, but he is patient and will wait.

As for Mysterio..

I think this [Megamind] comic someone did can answer that very easily LOL

But also I mean.. he'd be surprised, that's for sure. Dude is an idiot, but he does have a heart. He'd stop everything to check as well. "Is.. Are you alright? Should we reschedule this? I can put a raincheck on this-- Do I need to beat someone up? Oh, please tell me I get to beat someone up--!"

He knows his humor would help lighten and lift the mood. Losing interest in the fight, the encounter, to focus on something else. Something more important. He's got priorities, but he knows how to juggle, he's very good at it.

tbh he’s trying to be professional about his act, keeping up the persona and all, especially around witnesses. however.. he is also good at heart and will see to any potential hostages or whoever are doing alright. I mean, he is a “villain” with standards and morals and most importantly manners.

[magicianrabbidsupremacy]

Rabbids Invasion: Bwahdgment Day AU Characters 1

This au was the brain child of me and SX99 on discord. This au takes place in the bad future of the Rabbids Invasion episode "The Rabbid from the Future" where Otto Torx has won and most of earth has been destroyed. I'll be listing some characters that have so far survived the apocolypse that Mr. Torx has created.

Becky (The Blonde Rabbid): Becky is the leader of a resistance fighting to take back earth from Otto Torx and his army. Despite being a Rabbid she has amazing fighting capabilities which is thanks to her experience with Rabbid 000. While she might look like a very serious bunny when she's not fighting she is still kind hearted but sometimes morns on how she misses her past and the disappearence of Rabbid 000.

Rabbid 000: After a failed mission which ends up getting one of his friends killed Rabbid 000 is devistated and goes into hiding never to be seen by most people on earth. He hides somewhere depressed and getting drunk on pepper juice. He thinks about how he could have done things differently along with dark thoughts about himself. His only piece of company is Mini Rabbid who has taken good care of him for a while now.

Mini Rabbid: Mini lives with Rabbid 000 keeping safe and making sure his mental state is normal. (Well as normal as a Rabbids mental state can get) He still goes out on his own getting food and suplies to survive and give to 000. His small body makes it easier for him to sneak past enemies since by himself since he isn't a very strong bunny.

Zak & Zoe: Zak and Zoe are apart of the resistance saving helpless people, defending against Otto's robots and getting supplies and food to survive the apocolypse. They usually go on missions together and sometimes bring their three Rabbid friends as well. They both use their experience with technology to make multiple gadgets and weapons . Zoe is also apart of a daycare where she keeps children who survive safe and can create medicine for people affected by the radiation caused by Otto's destructive rise to power.

Lapinibernatus: Seeing how this au takes place before Mission To Mars Lapini is still stuck on pretzel island. When he finds about the apocolypse happening he decides to make the island his home base and uses his genius to give it some more defenses. While he might be safe from Otto's army there is one thing the Lapini can't escape from....lonelyness.

Mad Rabbid: Mad is chaotically neutral as he's not really fighting for one side. He kinda enjoys the apocolypse and is not too affected by it. (Minus the part where his best friend Secur-X is kinda dead) There are times where he will help the Resistance or Otto just for the fun of it. While he likes the chaos he's not to keen on outright killing people that aren't Otto's robots. He has two other Rabbids who follow him around despite his crazyness. Them being Nerdy and Disco.

Olivia: Olivia wonders the dead land trying to survive on her own after the destruction of Nebulous Industries. She is a capable fighter able and uses her brain to get out of trouble. Later on she finds a hurt, scared and bruised up Rabbid that she takes with her. That Rabbid being Cosmo.

Dark Rabbid: While everyone is struggling to survive Dark has been hiding in the shadows in a secret lair with his own loyal minions as he plots on overthrowing Otto Torx as ruler of earth and destroying the resistance. Two of his right hand men are General Barranco 3 and Scientist Rabbid as they come up with plans and weapons to win the war.

Pink: Pink is a robotic bunny created by using spare parts of destroyed Rabbid drones. It was created by Dark Rabbid to kill Otto and Becky so Dark Rabbid can complete his plans of world domination. It rides a spider like creature to get around and attack enemies and uses it's cuteness to trick unsuspected rabbids or humans.

Alice Gassman: After the death of her parents Alice romes the planet alone struggling to survive with only a barely working doll in hand. She usually finds dumpsters to sleep in as she is unable to find any places to live. Her lonelyness kicks in when she starts missing her family and almost always cries herself to sleep. Days later before she is killed by a couple of Otto's robots she is saved by Zak and Zoe who take her in and let her live in a daycare along with the other surviving children.

Otto Torx: Otto lives in a highly secured lair and is now the ruler of earth. He controls a variety of robots and drones who will kill any person on sight. He has also turned himself into a cyborg giving him more strength in combat. He's also focused on trying to destroy the resistance and kill their leader Becky in order to achive total victory.

Magician Rabbid: The Magician Rabbid is a scavenger looking for stuff to keep him alive such as food and resources. Thanks to the radiation caused by Otto and his previous transformation the Magician now has a split personality where one of them has him as his normal egotistical self and the other where he acts like a chicken. Doesn't matter what personality he has he still has a burning hatred for Alice.

More characters coming soon.

If you've got any questions comment below.

[tclkrefined]

. . . / / TASK 001 interrogation : otto estrada

@theopulenthq

hello, can you please tell me your name, country, && what role you provide your court? 

otto is getting comfortable on the couch when the question comes; the eagerness feels very telling, and he pauses, assesses the person in front of him closely. they hold their nerves well, but he can see the glint of sweat on their brow. "moving quick. must be quite the effort, getting all of these... interviews to stay on schedule," he hums. "otto estrada. ethiopia. i am the military commander."

and who do you believe to be your closest allies, either nations or individuals? do you trust your allies?

so this is what they're doing, mapping out allies and enemies? it seems quite the blunt way to do it -- but, isolating and separating prisoners has always been the most efficient way to interrogate, so they are bound to find some useful information on the way. it makes him sigh. "i do trust my allies, but you must understand, these are matters i am keeping close to my heart," he smiles sweetly, tapping his chest twice. he takes mental note of the court of ethiopia and hopes their weakest links will know to say less rather than more. "you can write down on your foolish notes: i trust my kingdom. i trust my people. i'll kill and die for them. that is all the answer i am willing to give."

ah, yes, i see... how about your enemies, then. who do you not align yourself with, and why?

"there are several customs and cultures i do not align myself with," he points. "does not mean i make enemies out of differences." when the interviewer looks at him expectantly, he waves a hand in the air, signaling for the next question.

interesting. do you have a personal vendetta against any of the courts, or even individuals, here?

there's a humorous purse of his lips on his face, as he tries to control the grin that threatens to show on his lips. it's good to know that the mughal empire has a terrible interrogation program, if this script is anything to go by. "i have a personal vendetta against the curtains in my chambers. far too thin, nearly useless, they did not block out the sun this morning. i had a rather busy night and was hoping for more time in bed with my husband -- you understand." he lets his grin shine then. 

what are your thoughts on the mysterious deaths in so many royal families?

he hums a deep, low sound in his throat. where he was sprawled back on the couch before, arms wide over the headrest, now he leans forward. his legs parted, his elbows resting over knees. "i think it could be a red herring. i think it aims to destabilize otherwise stable kingdoms. and i think what i know about it would make these walls gasp, should they have ears," he bluffs, throwing the bait to see if he catches anything. let the mughal empire keep their eyes on him, and not the rest of his men. "but i am not a man of many words."

how do you feel about the system of monarchy as a whole?

his fingers intertwine loosely, his boots tip back and forth on the ground, lifting and lowering his knees. he feels antsy with boredom, knowing this is a ruse to waste time more than anything. "i do not think it works well for certain countries, if some of the drama from last night was any indicaiton." he chortles. "my ethiopia stands tall with it, that is all i must care about."

so, what would be your best theory as to what is going on, then?

his head tilts, his grin sly. "that is for me to know, and for you to guess, my friend." he does not have any pressing theories. trying to figure this out is the reason he's been trading secrets and telling lies with growing recklessness, but he leans into the lie now, in hopes it will reveal something to him. nothing good comes from spilling too much of the truth. and they all know the mughal empire won't be responsible for a proper investigation.

thank you for your time. is there anything else you'd like to add, anything else that would be useful to the investigation?

his tongue clicks, his hands spreading out. "so soon? already?" he had prepared himself for hours of this, some light torture and indelicate pressing, at the very least. it's almost disappointing to waste a few minutes on some limp questions with an interrogator that scribbles down his answer with the pinched face of a mouse. he supposes he should count his blessings, for going back to his room with all of his fingernails. "no more comment -- did you make sure to write down about my curtains?" he smiles again. "then farewell, friend." he claps them hard enough on the shoulder to make them stumble, before he leaves.

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

dont mind me just ranting a little. i really hate the fact that honkai players in youtube comments always acts like they know the lore when their statement and argument is baseless speculation with no source whatsoever "we dont have enough information" "i think" when said info is available and straight up told in main story available on global. not to mention how the community LOVES to exaggerate how "depressing" honkai is like they have never seen an actually tragic and depressing death. constantly going "oh noooo character A is going to die 😭😭😭" when it will literally ruin their whole character arc. no seriously honkai story is wholesome compared to many stories with heavy themes. all deaths have meaning or are painted in a thick rose colored glass, the theme of the story is heartwarming (fight for all that is beautiful in the world) and they arent even in a post apocalyptic world setting. the honkai community seriously lacks people who openly critique the story writting with most overglorifying its writting.

:’)

I think it’s because Honkai got dark and then got lighter, but people didn’t really update their mental image to fit the lighter part of the story?

and now people have said it’s dark so much but it outright REFUSES to be dark anymore.

Aponia was nothing but simpery and good intentions, Kevin refuses to even consider killing Hua, Theresa is safe and sound and asleep away from the plot, the sims died and left Mei “fulfilled” rather than sad, nobody is mad at her for colluding with the enemy either…

I’m not mad that good things happen, but I like it when I think things might turn bad, too. I loved the darkness of the deaths in EE— it’s just that the ending basically makes them pointless, erasing the darkness with the rose tinted glasses. Honestly if they’d been just a little less intense on the Mary Sue Elysia they would’ve had me with a favorite chapter. It was dark and then it had a lighter twist and a kinder ending— much like Shattered Samsara, but it just doesn’t work at all for me.

Weird isn’t it? Shattered Samsara’s my favorite animation, too. What did they get wrong?

I think, in great part, Shattered Samsara was great because we were used to horrible outcomes and we were surprised by a good one. There’s pleading and emotional tension and the kinder ending is earned by Kiana struggling through pain and acknowledging all of it, all the darkness, and she’ll help Hua carry that burden. It’s cathartic, it’s awesome, and heartwarming, and until she decides that NO she won’t accept the sacrifice you don’t quite know Hua will survive this. (midway through).

Everlasting Flames and Because of You both have a fakeout loss that don’t hold up two seconds— there’s no tension because we know they win. Narratively there’s no doubt that they’re gonna win. If they lost, it would’ve subverted our expectations, but Mihoyo refuses to let them lose anything, especially Everlasting Flames. For Kiana this still works because it’s her apogee, her triumphant moment; a surprise would have meant the story has another twist coming, so it’s… fine. Good, just not as emotionally intense due to predictability. It’s good.

For Elysia… the exact outcome was more uncertain, but the surprise would have been that someone survives. They announced the deaths and then they died. Either no tension or disappointment. It’s the third animation in a row I was getting bored by, and it’s a treat for the eyes but not narratively significant in any way.

Everlasting Flames is a triumph; its narrative consequence is showcasing Kiana’s final push of growth into a realized individual.

Thus Spoke Apocalypse is a bittersweet epitaph for a man who announced that he’d die to accomplish his goal, and did. It isn’t necessarily all that interesting (it wasn’t to me, I skipped through) but it’s got the narrative significance of giving him the ending he has strived for all this time. It’s a reward for Otto just as much as it’s his funeral.

Because of You…

You get exactly what you were told you would get and you can skip the animation entirely without missing anything. Elysia tells Mei she’s going to fight, take back the other sims, then destroy ER, and she does exactly that in that order. It has no narrative value beyond giving a band-aid of a conclusion to an arc that skidded and refused to acknowledge death is tragic in its last moment, too focused on trying to state over and over and over again what we already knew: that there’s beauty and goodness in the world. (Not despite the bad. The bad gets such little consequence that it might as well not exist. The Show not Tell rule is crying.)

People have called out Because of You claiming it copies Everlasting Flames but that’s not quite right; it’s that they share the same story beats (main character gets beaten by Herrscher then rises again in very shiny glory thanks to the power of friendship).

Except for Everlasting Flames, you could forgive that because it was a peak, a triumph— glory is predictable, but you can get fucked over in an infinite amount of ways.

There’s just no tension. Thus Spoke Apocalypse I got bored halfway but at least it had angsty flashbacks and a bittersweet end— if I’d actually cared for Otto’s fate I would’ve probably enjoyed it very much. I like nuance.

Everlasting Flames didn’t need nuance because it was about glory and growth and Kiana coming into her own.

Because of You needed nuance so bad, and it didn’t get it. Closest we get is HoC saying she did think Elysia is beautiful which is… honestly kind of laughable.

And ever since that part of the story, nothing really dark has been allowed to happen? Earth people are gone but literally not ONE person we know has been affected so far. Schicksal HQ and Salt Lake Base are fine. The robot guy is cool with his new body his bestie Jackal made for him. Stigma will end in dreams rather than blood even if the villains get their way. Bronya basically greets Mei with “hi”, feeling no negative emotion whatsoever despite being one of those to pick up the pieces after Mei left Kiana for World Serpent, we’re not even allowed to play their spar. I haven’t caught up with the update from yesterday but I don’t think there’s a lot of tragedy— couldn’t they have at least made a flame-chaser one of the living dead for some real pain? It’s just MEI being like whelp we’re gonna die anyway and Prometheus going :/ so far.

I don’t think spoiler culture makes any sense, and this isn’t that. It’s about tension. It’s about taking me along on the roller coaster ride and making me fear the speed and the height even when I know I’m safe. This is turning into a merry go round in a bad way. :T