#even the family members who abused them — because it's sometimes the abusers who are themselves victims in turn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creepykuroneko · 4 months

Text

Real talk everyone needs to learn: it is possible for someone to be both a victim and an abuser even simultaneously.

You can be victim of childhood sexual abuse and still grow up to be a horrible person who abuses your own family. The cycle of violence is real people.

White women are victims of misogyny but they can also be perpetrators of racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families. Think about all those white women who claim to be feminists and looking out for other women but then still turn around and call the police on a black woman they saw in their neighborhood or a disabled homeless woman who was loitering outside a building. The term Karen exists for a reason and it is not about a woman who gets mad because her waiter brought her a tea instead of a coffee. It is a white woman who specifically targets black people and calls the police on them. There is a reason why white women have been fighting against social media to change the definition of calling a white woman a Karen. Saying the term was sexist didn't work (because misogynist don't believe in sexism) so now they try to claim that being a Karen is a superpower meant to stand up for the marginalized and get results.

Women of color are victims of both racism and sexism yet can still be guilty of racism, colorism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families. Colorism is a really big problem amongst all the various poc groups. unfortunately WOC still hold up the same racist cast standards. Whether it's turning to skin lightening products, straightening one's own hair to fit with eurocentric standards, getting plastic surgery, or repeating the mantra lighter than a brown paper bag, a lot of WOC buy into the idea of what is the right way to look and what is not. Before any of you reactionist are quick to scream, " but if they don't conform to eurocentric standards they are not going to be treated like human beings!" Conforming to the status quo literally does not cause racist to stop being racist. Keep in mind that these women don't just view themselves in a negative light but everyone else who looks like them as well. What do you think women who use skin lightening products do to their children? Especially their darker skin daughters? What do you think happens when these women pray that their child will be fair skin but then are mad to see that they ended up with a brown or black child? Talk to any black, hair stylist, pediatrician, or dermatologist and they will tell you that many parents are so quick to hide their child's natural curly hair while they are still toddlers. that they want their child to have straight hair by age 3. What do you think that does to a child's mental state and self-esteem?

A white physically disabled person will face discrimination for being disabled but still perpetuate racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families. There are some physically disabled people who rely on social safety nets whether it be food stamps, disability, Social Security etc etc and yet they believe that these programs should be more strict on who is allowed to receive benefits. Even though they themselves have complained about having to prove to their case worker that they are still disabled. They honestly believe that other people in need are fakers who just do not want to work. Because many families cannot afford to have a private nurse come over to assist their disabled relative, oftentimes people will care for their disabled relative despite having no medical training or knowledge. Well this is not the case for everyone, sometimes the family member they are taking care of is abusive towards them. They don't want them to leave the house, have friends, significant others, or even just a little bit of time to do something for themselves. They do abuse their caretaker, throwing things at them, calling them names, tearing down their self-esteem, and threatening to tell their caseworker that their caretaker is abusing them if their caretaker does anything they don't like. Yes this does happen in the real world.

The neurodivergent community is extremely guilty of ableism, especially towards other neurodivergent people. People will complain about how they have every right to exist in public and stem however they want, but then turn around wish that other neurodivergent people disappear. They call other disabled people normal or neurotypical for doing something that they personally do not like. The action in question is something that literally other neurodivergent people do. Think about how many posts you've seen on Tumblr where an autistic person complains about being triggered ( often times they don't even use the term trigger correctly) because their "neurotypical" coworker keeps talking very loudly and fast. Do you know who else talks very loudly and fast sometimes? Other autistic people and people with ADHD. The neurodivergent community seriously needs to stop diagnosing everyone around them as normal. Oftentimes when people try to hold neurodivergent people accountable, the neurodivergent person in question will try to completely manipulate the situation and say things like "my brain doesn't work. I don't understand did I do something bad?", " I can't be held accountable because I'm mentally disabled", or " ableism! How dare you treat me like this!". I had a former coworker who had a form of down syndrome. She would wait until management was not around and then scream in the faces of our other co-workers (often fellow neurodivergent people themselves) and literally call them stupid. When management would ask her about her behavior, she would immediately begin to cry on the spot and say she didn't know she was doing something bad. When he would leave the room she would stop crying and bragged to me about how she knew what she did. Please note she was a disabled white woman calling other disabled mostly black women stupid. For other cases of neurodivergent people being horrible people just look at Chris Chan or Jupiter the hybrid. Apart from believing that they are the only disabled person in the room, racism is also extremely common amongst neurodivergent people. White autistics also love to call the police on disabled brown and black people. If an Asian or black person announces that they are autistic, they are often met with skepticism by white neurodivergent people. I really do not have time to get into it but look up the racist history between who gets diagnosed with ADHD and who gets diagnosed with Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD). This very much plays a role in how neurodivergent people determine who is a "valid" neurodivergent person and who is not. Remember folks just because someone is neurodivergent that does not mean they are not upholding racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and are abusive.

Trans people can face discrimination for being trans but then they themselves are also guilty of being transphobic. Just take a look at the trans men's rights activist movement (TMRA), the tramsmed community, and the huge rise of anti-feminist trans people. Please note I am not talking about trans people who are anti-terfs and serfs, but trans people who are anti-feminism in general. For some reason the TMRA movement also believes that every single trans woman is a terf? I refuse to go down that rabbit hole to see their "logic". Unfortunately for the trans community large chunks of the community still hold on to their same Conservative Christian values they were brought up with and it's very telling when you see people talk about who is a valid trans person and who is not. There are also trans people who are homophobic. They believe homosexuality is a sin. Take a look at trans influencers who make fun of gay people, especially those who do drag, and talk about how they find drag offensive despite the fact that the trans community has a long history with the drag community. Don't believe me? Take a look at trans influencer Nikki Secondino's anti drag comments on her platform before she was arrested for murdering her dad. As with the other groups the trans Community is still guilty of homophobia, ableism, anti-semitism, islamophobia, classicism, sexism and abusive towards their families.

Gay and lesbian people are victims of homophobia but also dish out the same bigotry. There is a huge problem of acephobia, biphobia, transphobia, and discrimination towards intersex people within the G & L community. Think about all the posts you've seen that come from gay people who say that they are gay but they're normal about it unlike the more stereotypical gay people out there. They are looking to conform to their conservative values. They want the approval of the society they were brought up in even though that Society does not like them. They want the benefits of being white, christian, middle-class, and they don't want queer people "messing it up for them". They want to prove to conservatives that they are still conservative just like them they just happened to be gay or lesbian is all. Not a surprise they are really horrible to their fellow gays, queers of color, and trans people. Some people like to joke about the man who has the public life with the wife and kids but then in private is a closet homosexual who goes to the hotel with a sex worker. The thing is though that is a reality that still goes on today. It's not uncommon for them to beat or even kill their lover. Think about all the gold star lesbians and gold star gay people out there and pay attention to the terminology they use. How proud they are to have never had sex with someone of the opposite gender or someone with X genitalia. Well some people may know and accept early on their sexuality that is not the case for everyone and that is not a bad thing. This type of ideology is extremely sexist, biphobic, transphobic, and homophobic. Clinging to these out of date views will not help the lgbtqia+ community in the long run. Another thing that the community does not like to acknowledge AT ALL is the domestic violence that happens amongst queer couples. Look up the tragic case of Lyndsey Vaux, a queer woman who was murdered by her lesbian girlfriend if you need proof that queer people can also be abusive domestic partners. Ask any asian, brown, or black member of the LGBT community their experiences and they will tell you they would rather hang out with cishet asian, brown, and black people than with a white group of the lgbt+ people. Because they are more likely to be accepted by straight members of their same race then they are to be accepted by the white queer community. I know I didn't touch on it but the gay and lesbian Community are also guilty of racism, ableism, sexism, classism and more than capable of abusing those they love.

Poor people tend to really hate other poor people especially in america. I loosely mentioned it above about how disabled people want social safety nets to be harder for other people to obtain despite the fact that they also need them. It's not just disabled people who are guilty of this though. I've met a lot of people who are on food stamps but at the same time think that food stamps should not exist because it "encourages the lazy bums to leech off the system". When you try to point out the fact that they are also receiving food stamps they try to justify it. They think of themselves as a good person who didn't intend to end up in this type of situation but clearly they are the only exception, everyone else just doesn't want to work. Look at the people who are anti-free lunch programs, anti-affirmative action, anti-affordable healthcare, and anti Universal basic income, anti homeless shelters, anti-free birth control, Pro Redline laws, Pro business, pro profits over people, the entire libertarian movement. Many of these people are in fact poor and working class themselves. They just cannot admit that. Hell even amongst homeless people there is judgment and discourse. Some homeless people really do believe they are better than other homeless people because " my situation is different from theirs". The YouTube channel invisible people is a heartbreaking Channel where the interviewer pays homeless people to interview them and share their stories. The guy who runs the channel used to be homeless himself. His goal is to humanize and try to help homeless people. Every once in awhile one of the people he interviews will be in complete denial about themselves and their situation. Bigotry is a problem with poor people just like every other group.

This post is not meant to divide the different marginalized groups but rather acknowledge the problems that already exist. If you consider yourself left leaning in the slightest but this post made you mad, it probably means you have some issues you need to work on. The reality is we live in a very bigoted society. It does not matter if you're a disabled, queer, non-binary, stunning creature, you still have to check yourself for any bias you learned growing up. White people in the lgbt+ community get mad when issues like racism are brought up and accuse queers of color of trying to divide the community. In reality it is the racism that divides the community not the acknowledgment of.

This is where I'm going to end this for now. I know there's a lot I didn't touch on but let's be honest this post is already too long. If any of my fellow marginalized people want to share their experiences about bigotry and discrimination within their own communities please do so.

#autistic #actually autistic #mixed race #LGBT #trans rights #cripple Punk #Anarchy #stop Asian hate #black lives matter

166 notes · View notes

theanimeoftheblackbunnymask · 2 years

Text

Yandere Port Mafia Osamu Dazai Alphabet

Author's Note: I decided since I'm writing for BSD I'll do a yandere alphabet for all the characters I'm writing for. Feel free to send request in like one shots and stuff, but please check in my Masterlist what BSD characters I write for. Even if I haven't done an Alphabet for them yet I'll still do your request once it's done or until I can't wait any longer. In Dazai's case I'm doing him in his time in the Port Mafia and then him at ADA.

Warnings: Violence, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse Implies, Rape Implied, Emotional Abuse, Manipulation, Murder Mentioned, Torture, Being Stabbed, Possessiveness, Suicide Mentioned, Clinginess, Lonliness, Sadism, Dehumanization, Kidnapping, Branding, and Just Pure Roxicity.

Links: {Masterlist} {Alphabet Used}

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

We all know Dazai. I can see him being as clingy as ever even while he was still in the Port Mafia.

I can see his reasons on being so affectionate is him being lonely and losing you, and his possessive nature.

He loves to have you sit on his lap while he gives his subordinates orders. And he'll also sit on you lap and not let you go, if you try he'll whine your name and make you feel bad.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

PM! Dazai most likely got carried away when it came to killing people. Remember that gun scene when he first met Chuuya, yeah.

I can see him doing the same thing to people who try to take you away from him or people for even talk to you. Everyone in the PM knows not to mess with you unless they want to face Dazai's wrath.

I don't know why but PM! Dazai would probably take a photo of his killings and show them to you, escpicially if it was a family member or a friend of yours. One of things he loves most about you is your tears and terrified expression.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He'd tease you about easy it was. How weak you were compared to him.

He'll try to make you comfortable and he'd want all you attention. He's like a puppy.

He'll never let you be alone in the first stage of your abduction. If you try he'll pin you against the wall and whisper in your ear why you hated him so much, when he knows exactly why.

Your anger, your fear and your despair all put a smile on his face. What can he say? He's a sadist after all.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

There's a lot of things he'll do against your will. PM Dazai is a lot more heartless, forceful and cold compared to ADA Dazai.

He'll chose what clothes you wear, he'll force to sleep in the same bed as him and if you really were misbehaving he'll have you execute a traitor.

He'll have you kill people and he'll just stand there with a blank face. When you finally snap and have a break down he'll be there hugging you, saying that you belonged to him. You are his dog and you obeyed him, which made you a good girl/boy. He'll reward you with various things because there are times where you tears don't make him happy, sometimes they make him upset, and he hates it.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Dazai is rarely vulnerable with anybody. He won't ever show his heart or true intentions to you. But he won't say it, but you're is only weakness. Yes he may hurt you but if anyone dared to touch you they'll suffer and slow and painful death. Those deaths are ones he'll never show you, because you may figure out you're his weakness.

If you actually wanted him to be vulnerable to you you'll have to be completely in love with him, probably just as obsessed with him as he is with you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He likes feisty, strong and independent darlings. He doesn't want a weak darling, someone who can't even defend themselves. Or a submissive darling who does what he wants without a fight. He'll see you as boring and will probably fall out of love with you and have you killed.

When you punched him in the face he was a little caught off guard. When he felt blood come from his nose he'd smile and call you a bad girl/boy.

He'll pin you down and the more you fight him the more he realizes how much he truly loves you. And boy will he have fun with you.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Watching you try to escape makes him laugh. You really think you'll escape the Port Mafia, and more importantly him? The moments you open the door he'll be standing there and a grin on his face. He put a gun to your head and tell you to turn around and go to your room.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

There's a lot of things that Dazai has done to you that can go in this one, but the by far worse one of when you made him genuinely mad.

It was probably a very stressful day and Dazai just wanted your affection and attention. But when he saw you laughing and talking to Chuuya he felt rage fill up inside him. But it was fine. He wouldn't let his other dog ruin his day. Dazai would grab your shoulder and tell Chuuya to go be useful for once in his life. They'd argue for a bit before Dazai drags you away.

But the moment you got to his room you were distant, and you looked disgusted.

"What's the matter, Belladonna?"

"Don't call me that."

Dazai would sigh before sitting in front of you. He asked you what made you so upset and you just snapped.

"I fucking hate you. I mean it this time. You murdered your own subordinates just because they looked at me. What the fuck is wrong with you?! You don't love me. You're just obsessed with the fact of having me. You treat me as your fucking dog! And... I'm sick of it. You've hurt me so many times... I can't even leave... After everything you've done, everything you made me do... You deserve to have that emptiness in your heart and be lonely until you fucking die a slow and painful death. I won't be your savior..."

You stood up and kicked Dazai aside. He sat the there quietly, not even moving as he looked at the ground. When you tried to open the door it was locked, from the outside. You heard Dazai's chuckle, before it turned into insane manic laughter. Dazai stood up and walked towards you, taking out his gun as you backed up.

"Savior... When did I ever say you were my savior?" Dazai asked, putting the gun your head and held his hand around your throat.

You stared at him with rage. All fear you had towards Dazai was gone, the only thing you felt was rage.

"You're what dog is to it's master. A dear comfort. And just like a dog, I can put down..."

Dazai stopped, before pulling out his knife and stabbing it into your stomach. Right before you can scream in agony he covered your mouth and looked you in the eye with his dead eyes and his emotionless smile.

"Just like that..."

Dazai would let you go as you fell to the floor. Tears rolling down your face as Dazai stared at you. He threw his gun into the closet and kneeling down so the two of you were at eye level.

"You're not gonna die... But,"

He pulled the knife out, you screamed pain as he smirked. He grabbed your wrist and pulled them above your hand, before he stabbed the knife into your hands in order to keep them in place.

"You're gonna learn your place.."

Your screams of agony and pleasure echoed through the halls of the Port Mafia that night.

The next day though, he felt so much guilt when he woke up and remembered what he had done. He would never, ever forgive himself.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He barely sees a future for himself. Maybe the two of you doing a double suicide together. Or maybe even him running the Port Mafia with you by his side. He'll see where the two of you will end up.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Dazai claims he'll never get jealous by some dog or a Port Mafia member, but he's lying.

He gets jealous extremely easily. If you really want to calm him down kiss him and hug him, telling him to calm down and that no one will take you away.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It depends on his mood and your behavior.

If you're well behaved he'll be spoiling you by buying you all kinds of things. He'll blow his entire paycheck on you just to see you smile. He'll be very affectionate and tease you and act so childish. It would be like a normal relationship if he didn't do all those awful things to you.

If you're misbehaving though, he'll isolate you from everyone. You'll be chained to his bed and all you could do is stare at the ceiling or sleep.

He would definitely brand you, so expect a lot of hickeys and cuts during this time.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He'll go about it the same why he does with everyone else. He'll call you a beauty, flirt with you, ask you out on dates. He won't even act or show any yandere tendencies until you move in with him and start dating.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes. It's canon Dazai is kinda two faced, he puts on a mask pretty much. Dazai isn't just a monster under that mask, he's too complex to just be simplified as just a monster.

In front of people he'll still be possessive but only to the point of it looking like he's just worried about you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Port Mafia Dazai is much more willing to hurt you than ADA Dazai.

It really depends on his mood and what you did. Hell, you could've done nothing wrong and he'll make up some bullshit just to punish you.

If you tried to escape he'll torture you before leaving you there in isolation for a week.

If you talked to someone else when he wasn't around that he didn't trust or like (Chuuya), he'll fuck you the entire night just to claim you. When they see your bruises and bite marks and hickeys they'll know your his.

If you insulted him he'd slap you across the face and tell you to watch your mouth if you didn't want him to stitch it closed. It's an empty threat, he wants to hear your voice and your screams some more.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The more you misbehave the more rights you'll lose. You better pick this up quickly because even is you behave, the chances of you getting them back are extremely low.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Dazai is pretty patient, even if he may come off as a brat. But his patience won't last forever. PM Dazai is less patient than ADA Dazai and sooner or later he won't wait for his darling to love him back. Even though it'll hurt him dearly knowing his Darling doesn't love him, but at least they're with him, right?

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die his entire world will fall apart. Why did he have to lose one of the few things that made him happy. He'll become a lot more cold an sadistic. He'd visit your grave often, even after he left th PM.

If you successfully escaped he'd be extremely impressed. It won't be hard for him to find you. When he does he'll tell you how impressed he was, but that it was time to come home.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Dazai isn't delusional. Yes he may seem like it but he isn't. He knows exactly what he's doing is wrong, but he doesn't care. There are times though when he feels guilty. When you're quiet and not fighting him. Letting him do what he wants to you makes him feel awful.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Most likely the lonely and emptiness he feels. He wants a reason to live, something that'll make his life a little bit better, a little bit brighter.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Your screaming and crying can either make Dazai extremely happy since he's a sadist, or extremely upset because it reminds him of how much he's really hurting you.

Dazai craves your love and affection, when you try and isolate yourself from him he's already tackling you and holding you close to while hides in your shirt.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

His intelligence, his skill, his strategies, his sadism. All those hit different.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There's nothing you can exploit about him without him knowing, so give up.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes, but sometimes he'll regret it and try to earn your forgiveness.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He'll worship the ground hou walk on. He'll do almost anything to gain your love!

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He'll wait until he knows the time is just right, and that's when he'll strike.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

It's very likely, and the guilt he'll feel is impossible to put into words. He'll do anything to fix you, and I mean anything.

#dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #port mafia dazai #yandere dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you

1K notes · View notes

martian-astro · 4 months

Text

Atmakaraka series - Part 4

Atmakaraka is the planet with the highest degree in the birth chart.

Short note : atmakaraka can give good or bad results depending on the strength of the atmakaraka planet.

Atmakaraka In 4th house :-

In this life, the person will have to take responsibility of their home and family members. Especially, the mother.

Sun atmakaraka in 4th house - your family members see you as someone who is trustworthy and responsible, I see this placement in a lot of elder siblings, where the parents know that everything will be fine if they entrust them with basically... anything. Your parents could also say things like "now I can die peacefully because I know you'll take care of everything". If afflicted, then you can be seen as a dictator, someone who makes all the decisions by themselves and does not take other people's feelings into consideration. I have also noticed that a lot of people with this placement were raised by a single mother, or their mom was the breadwinner.

Moon atmakaraka in 4th house - (this one is a little complicated 😭) so we all love our mothers, but with this placement, especially girls who have this placement can be really empathetic towards their mothers, like they can see that their mothers were not always "mothers" they were once little girls with their own dreams and ambitions. These people themselves are also very career oriented because they do not want to live like their mom. If saturn is weak, then these people can end up HATING their fathers (for the right reasons), can also choose to refer to their fathers as "sir", or "sperm donor" 💀, would not call them "dad", even in public.

Mercury atmakaraka in 4th house - these people are definitely the type to have a library in their home, doesn't have to be too big, just a space dedicated for books. Can really be good at scientific subjects. They have a really good relationship with their mothers, and also share everything with them, even if you don't like her, you just accidentally end up sharing stuff with her. The type to tell their moms about their love life, and also you guys love to gossip about other family members (especially your dad's side of the family 👀)

Venus atmakaraka in 4th house - you guys love beautifying your home, and then love to host social gatherings so that other people can appreciate your home as well. If you want to impress these people, just compliment their interior design style. The type of people to post their mom's picture on social media and get comments like - can your dad fight?? If venus is strong, then this placement can also indicate having parents who were IN LOVE with each other, and this can result in you having a really positive mindset towards marriage.

Mars atmakaraka in 4th house - I read somewhere that this placement is like putting a soldier in the kitchen and this is actually so true. A lot of people with this placement can view their mothers as "weak", can also say things like "if you actually wanted to leave, you would", want to get away from their home and sometimes even homeland. These people can have a distorted relationship with women. (I DO NOT recommend getting into a relationship with a man with this placement) I'm so sorry but I do not like this placement 😭😭. These people also have a tendency to victim blame. I have seen that a lot of people with this had a father who was Physically abusive towards their mothers and then their mothers would take out their anger on them and that resulted in them having.... These negative thoughts about women.

Jupiter atmakaraka in 4th house - 90% of the time, these people will have a great relationship with their mother. She can also be a teacher. View their mothers as an intelligent person and take her advice on a lot of important things, the best part is, that their mothers love them a lot so she will never give them a bad advice. If she tells you to not hang out with someone or to not pursue a certain career, LISTEN TO HER. Can have a big home, in childhood or later in life, if not being aspected by saturn.

Saturn atmakaraka in 4th house - it indicates growing up in an extremely strict household. If saturn is strong, then you could've felt secure and stable in your childhood. if weak, then you probably felt very suffocated and wanted to get away from your home. Could have felt neglected by their mothers and I have noticed that a lot of people with this had mothers who loved their siblings more than them. I know a person with this placement and her mom would only give food to her brother and would leave her to starve (there's a lot of sexism involved in this situation as well)

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

#Vedic astrology #Vedic observations #astrology observations #astroblr #Atmakaraka #sun atmakaraka #moon atmakaraka #mercury atmakaraka #venus atmakaraka #mars atmakaraka #jupiter atmakaraka #Saturn atmakaraka #astrology #vedic chart #astro observations

120 notes · View notes

balkanradfem · 1 year

Text

Women are not protected in today's society, and they're not protected by m*n. Here's how the world would look like if women were, protected by m*n.

M*n would be creating systems that would euthanize, eradicate and dispose of every pedophile, predator and rapist. Society would be cleansed of them because they would be recognized as a major danger to women and their children, they would be the public enemy number one and disposed at even the first sign of predation.

Instead, pedophiles are given light sentences, only convinced if they've repeated offense and then allowed to walk free and commit more offenses. Media is led by pedophiles, and promotes pedophilia to the point where the society is so oversaturated, you can see pornographic views of children even in their own cartoons. Fashion, desires appearance of women, beauty standards and even intellectual standards for women are all set by pedophilia, women are supposed to emulate children or they are not viewed as desirable. We are living in a pedophile-led society.

Predators and rapists are not only allowed, excused, tolerated and not taken as 'real criminals', but they're often celebrated and approved of, by male police force, who will go over and beyond to disprove victims, to neglect rape kits, to find a way to make it women's fault. Intimate torture of women is treated as 'small theft' issue, even as it leaves women severely traumatized and unsafe. Not to stop at that, males have decided to take control of women's bodies after rape, and force them to bear children if rape has ended in pregnancy. They've managed to get rights over the children, to the rapists. This is not how 'protecting women' looks like. That's how torturing, exploiting, and pushing women into despair and trauma looks like.

If we lived in a society where women are protected, domestic violence would not exist. It would be unthinkable to lift a hand at a woman, let alone abuse or murder one. Hitting or injuring a woman would be an offense punishable by death. Woman in her home would be in the safest place in the world. Yet, one of the highest cause of female death is their domestic or romantic partner. Homes that have a male head of the family are places where women most often end up exploited, overworked, abused, emotionally abandoned, coerced or forced into situations where they're easily sexually assaulted, isolated, devalued, regarded as a servant, and ultimately, killed. M*n have not created a world where women can safely live their lives in nuclear families; instead the families were custom-made to enable m*n to have offspring and servitude from women, while doing ultimately nothing in return, only keeping those family members alive, sometimes not even that.

If we lived in a world where m*n protected women, pornography would not exist. Women's sexuality and intimacy would be sacred, and not something that could be bought, or taped, at the risk of women feeling uncomfortable, violated, injured, coerced, traumatized, exploited and hurt. The levels of injury, emotional damage, body harm and trauma inflicted on women during pornography is so high, they often have to undergo medical procedures, just to stay alive. They have to keep themselves inebriated or medicated just to be able to go thru such type of torture. In a world where m*n cared for women's safety, this level of harm would be unacceptable. Nobody would want to watch a woman get potentially hurt, violated, humiliated or injured in any way, there would be a huge outcry against using women as human sex toys and leaving them severely traumatized, just for someone else's pleasure.

If we lived in a world where m*n protected women, there would be no prostitution or human trafficking. Prostitution has proved to be not only traumatic, but deadly, slavery-like experience where they could get injured, violated, forced against their will and exploited at someone else's will. Women would never have to subject themselves to anything like that for mere survival. They would never be put in a situation where they would feel it's their only way, or only thing they're worth for. There would not be an industry of grooming female children into prostitution, because average age of entering prostitution is only 13. Nobody in the world would want to groom and brainwash the self worth of a 13 year old girl in order for her to be repeatedly raped. Nobody would even think of something so disgusting and inhumane. Nobody would be able to look at female children and women being trafficked without putting a stop to it. It would be unthinkable.

If we lived in a world where women were protected by m*n, wars would not exist. Not only wars are the sure ways to kill countless people that women have birthed and raised, causing endless pain to women who dedicated their lives to making sure those people are safe, nurtured, that they grow up and live to be someone, but wars have proven to be traumatizing and deadly for women, even more so than they are for m*n. Women end up in wars only without any training, protection, ability to defend themselves. And they're the primary targets of rape, torture, sexual violation and forced pregnancy. The highest count of victims in any wars are the civilians – and those civilians are often women. But instead of only being murdered, they have to deal with the insane possibility of being raped, tortured, impregnated and carrying some male monster's child, which is such unthinkable level of torture, a lot women commit suicide rather than be subjected to it. If we were protected, this would not, and could not possibly happen. No female child would be considered 'spoils of war' and subjected to rape from soldiers. No woman would be imprisoned or raped by m*n. Nothing in the world could make any m*n act this way, if they cared even one bit about protecting women.

Women are not protected. We are not safe, we're the first on the line to get hurt, and m*n have continually and relentlessly put every single action to protect our attackers, torturers, rapists and murderers. Women are abused in their homes, by the people who are supposed to love them the most. There are types of work that exist only to cause abuse to women, that expect women to take part in it, to pretend to enjoy it. Women's quality of life is expected to be low. Women are supposed to be inebriated and pretend that they enjoy it. Our heads are filled with how 'm*n protect us', but they don't, there are no indication that a woman was protected at any point in her life, by any m*n. M*n see us as property and will not put an effort to protect what they don't even think is human, what they don't think experiences pain in any meaningful way, except when they take pleasure in causing it.

We have to start protecting each other. We have to stand together, and make actions to keep each other safe.

#radical feminism #radfem analysis #radfems #radblr #male violence #male predators #female oppression #males exposing women to harm for no reason whatsoever #pretending to be protectors while being the number one danger to womens lives and health

284 notes · View notes

specialinterestsgalore · 2 months

Text

Magic and Homosexuality in Merlin

As with pretty much any essay I post on here, this was mostly a minimally edited stream of consciousness. Because the show title is the same name as the main character, I tried to italicize when referring to the show and leave the text normal when referring to Merlin the character.

Merlin aired on the BBC from September 2008 through December 2012. Merlin is a retelling of the story of King Arthur, naturally focusing on Merlin, though it is certainly not in line with the typical legends of King Arthur and Merlin. In the traditional tellings, Merlin is a powerful sorcerer with almost complete knowledge of the past, present, and future (sometimes said to experience time backward), he is often the son of a demon or the devil himself, and is an ally or even court magician during the reign of Uther, Arthur’s father. In this depiction, Merlin is a young man, the same age as Arthur, born with a natural affinity for magic in a kingdom that has outlawed its use. He is sent to live with his uncle, the court physician, and becomes Prince Arthur’s servant. The concept of being forced to live with those who believe that a natural and unchangeable aspect of oneself is reprehensible or in a community that has effectively or literally outlawed this aspect is likely familiar to many members of the LGBT community. Both of the main magical characters, Merlin and Morgana, are forced to live among those who hate them for a fundamental aspect of themselves and often watch those they love insult, abuse, and even kill others like them. For LGBT people in our world and those with magic in Merlin the negative consequences of ‘coming out’ can range from social exclusion, loss of support from friends and family, homelessness, arrest, and even death.

Merlin is thrilled to meet his uncle Gaius and learn that while he chose to stop practicing magic to remain working in the palace, Gaius had much magical experience and knowledge. Merlin is lucky enough to find his own small community in Gaius and Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon, who help guide him. His mother, Hunith, is rarely seen but she has known about Merlin’s magic for his entire life and has always supported him. Though he has chances to leave the palace and live amongst other magic users, Merlin chooses to stay due to the relationships he forged. His experiences are very reminiscent of my own growing up. I often compartmentalized my relationships with friends and family from what I knew their opinions on same-sex attraction were. One of my closest friends in high school had a ‘Take Back the Rainbow’ keychain, a movement for removing the rainbow’s association with the LGBT community, and although seeing it was an upsetting reminder that no matter how close we were I would never be able to share moments like my wedding with him we remained friends until we moved for university. Similarly, it is impossible for Merlin to share a key part of himself with any of his friends and family but he chooses to stay and deepen these relationships.

The other main magical character in Merlin is Morgana. In this depiction, Morgana is the orphaned child of one of King Uther’s friends and allies and has been raised as Uther’s ward for most of her life. We later learn that Morgana is Uther’s biological child from an affair with her mother. Morgana was also born with magic but it presented itself much later than Merlin’s and initially, it is extremely distressing and confusing to her. If Merlin represents those who realize they are same-sex attracted at an early age and are given the support needed to become comfortable with themselves, Morgana represents those who only begin to realize their attraction in adolescence and have no support or resources to help them fully understand what is happening within them. Morgana begins to have prophetic dreams and nightmares and Gaius, being the court physician and having extensive magical knowledge, is aware that she is displaying magical abilities but neglects to use this knowledge to comfort or guide her. Though he has good intentions, Uther executes any magic users found in Camelot and would likely have little sympathy for his daughter. Gaius believes that ensuring that even Morgana does not understand her abilities will protect her from his wrath. While it likely does protect Morgana for a time, it also leads to her feeling that she has no support within the palace and feeling intense anger at those she used to consider family. An African proverb says “The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth” and Morgana is a textbook example of this. Though Gaius and Merlin attempt to support Morgana, they do so without directly letting her know how much they understand about what she is going through; Morgana can not feel their support and instead seeks out warmth from Camelot’s enemies. Her closest ally is her half-sister Morgose, a high priestess of the Old Religion, who has a (understandably) strong vendetta against Camelot and King Uther. This leads to Morgana being manipulated in some ways, though the love between the sisters is still obvious. In my opinion, this echoes how LGBT children who are not accepted by their communities are often led toward unhealthy and self-destructive coping mechanisms. LGBT youth, particularly those who are homeless or in foster care, have high rates of substance abuse and are more likely to engage in sex work or prostitution. They, like Morgana, are not given resources to help them cope with the lack of support they received in their childhood and the resulting trauma in healthy ways. This leads Morgana on a quest to destroy Camelot and those she feels have wronged her, destroying herself in the process.

While Merlin never acknowledges the similarities between the plight of magic users and those in the LGBT community or the homoerotic tension built up between Merlin and Arthur and Morgana and Guinevere, among other characters, for many fans it is a powerful allegory.

37 notes · View notes

hesztia16 · 21 days

Text

I hate bad parent or “failing at being a decent parent” Bruce for so many reasons. It’s sad, it’s infuriating, it’s unfair. But mostly because it makes no f’ing sense. Part of it is because I can’t see his character being a bad dad for a number of reasons, but mostly because that would mean that he wasn’t the only one who failed those kids.

Thomas and Martha failed (not as much as everyone else for obvious reasons but still) for not showing Bruce a better example, for not setting higher standards.

Alfred failed the most after Bruce if the latter was a bad father. Because he was right there. Because he partially raised that boy into the man he was (I always blamed Alfred for Bruce’s unwillingness for showing physical affection to a certain degree. I can’t imagine how Bruce must’ve felt growing up with an always professional butler as a sole remaining parental figure). He failed to sit them down and forcing them to talk when the situation warranted it. He failed to lecture them all on their short comings. He failed to save them from themselves and each other.

Commissioner Gordon failed because I know for a fact that he knew some of it from Barbara who had been Dick’s go to person to rant about Bruce. Especially if Bruce happened to be really abusive.

Lucius Fox failed because he was a close family friend and knew about their home situation.

Leslie Thompkins failed because she’s a doctor and probably a mandated reporter. She should’ve seen, she should’ve interfered.

Clark failed. He was supposed to be Uncle Clark, Superman. He of all people should’ve known and he could’ve acted.

Selina failed. She was on and off in a relationship with Bruce for years. She should have done something.

Every member of the Justice League, sometimes even Titans, when they were no longer children themselves, failed. They were meant to be heroes. Heroes don’t leave children suffer.

Sometimes, to an extent, Dick has failed. Jason has failed. Barbara, Tim, Steph, Duke, Cass has failed. For letting Bruce take in more children and treat them the way they were treated. (Damian is often too young to know better). They were never meant to be responsible for saving their siblings, and they should never be expected to do so, but they could’ve spoken up.

None of them are good people or deserve to be heroes if they let those kids suffer for the sake of friendship or respect.

(This goes for other heroes as well.)

#dc universe #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #leslie thompkins #jim gordon #martha wayne #thomas wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #clark kent #justice league #it doesn’t make sense for bruce wayne to be a bad parent #make it make sense dc

49 notes · View notes

probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

Text

Thinking out loud...I'm both relieved that Hunter wasn't singled out by The Collector to go through these horrors...yet ofc curious what it may've looked like.

Nonetheless, his mind would be unleashing nightmares upon him even after Belos's death.

C-PTSD nightmares seem to have three flavours (going off my own experience..this isn't textbook or researched, as a disclaimer).

There are two kinds that have the theme of immediate danger.

First is the type where you yourself are being physically threatened. I don't want to choose the more graphic violent ones for this post but an example I can cite is being arrested and thrown into prison. Those got me on pretty high alert and idk, it was like this I guess:

Second would be the ones where you can't save someone else. Those hurt and yes, they pack a nasty punch. I've only had this type once as far as I can remember. But poor Hunter would have it worse since Belos could literally puppet him to be the one to harm the best friend he loved most:

The relational ones, though? That involve being blamed and/or abandoned, with no physical threats? Those are where you are in touch with the shame, which in a way makes it the worst of all three in my opinion. Because the deep sense of shame is the aspect of the condition which you can't reason your way out of using impersonal logic...in the way that you can e.g. come up with an escape plan or hold off an assailant.

The most memorable one was being in a dark room, almost entirely pitch black, seeing my 5 or 6-year-old self looking at me like this:

and because you just know stuff in dreams, I knew she was demanding an answer from me, as to why I wasn't there for her to protect her.

And holy smokes this was freakier than the first two categories. Because I had no adrenaline in my system, and somehow this third kind of dream always takes place in narrow spaces where I can't sprint and run elsewhere. Brainnnn, whyyyy?? Therefore I couldn't even give myself an adrenaline rush from fleeing anyway if I wanted to. (Idk if anyone else experiences this?) The first two kinds always took place in wide spaces e.g. underground parking lots and forests.

A similar nightmare involved an abusive family member whom I was trapped on a small boat with, and I had to listen to him demean and minimize me all over again while I was stuck, and I somehow didn't make myself just jump off the boat to swim away.

This type of nightmare is the one that can get me upset for hours after I wake from them, while with the others I get out of the shock a lot quicker for some reason.

For Hunter...it would involve Belos, other Grimwalkers, his friends and others such as those he previously worked with in the Castle, blaming him and judging him in his nightmares. Worst is if Flapjack does the same to him and rejects him. And I apologize for this angsty train ride but...but...he might see those poor lost palismen all over again, since it points towards the profession we see him thriving in, during the epilogue sequence...:

*drags this lost child to therapy sessions*

So yeah. The first two kinds are a more straightforward fit with how C-PTSD changes a person's neural networks and primes them to act relatively calmly in actual physical crises. The high price paid is, the person therefore struggles once things become safer (e.g. arguing with someone who is actually a safe presence), in some twisted unfair form of compensation. This is seen in how Hunter's triggers properly emerge once he's actually physically distanced from Belos: Labyrinth Runners and For the Future are the main examples.

It is painful and difficult, only becoming easier once the person has built a solid support network and can repair their own relationship with themselves.

In fact, my body sometimes feels as though I strangely want such a thrill e.g. riding in an ambulance all over again, a re-enactment of those times of high alert, because they are still more 'comfortable': rather than having no choice but to experience and accept that ingrained sense of shame, process it, and ride the wave instead of simply throwing a punch at it or evading it. Wanting that thrill is our equivalent of wanting a "fix", I guess.

Safe to say, this is why the canon Watching and Dreaming moments that hit hardest are the (false) blaming statements that Luz's friends direct at her. Because the ultimate test is whether the dreamer believes those or not.

#toh hunter #hunter's cptsd #the owl house #okay to reblog. I was just rambling #get the boi all the hot cocoa

163 notes · View notes

loversj0y · 1 year

Text

'tis the damn season

chapter one - we could call it even

its your first day back home from winter break, and the overwhelming extent of the holidays leads to some interesting rekindlings

'tis the damn season masterlist

pairing: cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader

fluff and angst (quite a lot of angst in fact)

trigger warnings: reader's mother is abusive (not physically) and father is emotionally absent. this will be talked about in extensive detail. alcohol, some suggestive themes, and a lot of anxiety.

author's note: WELCOME! to the very first installment of a multichaptered fic inspired by taylor swift's tis the damn season! this work has been in progress for about. 4 months now so !! yipee!!! hope u enjoy (chapter two should be out sometime within the next week; i wont make the wait too long between chapters) dont like tumblr formatting? ao3 version is available here!

word count: 6.3k

If you had to be honest, you despised the holidays. It was always stressful, no matter how prepared you tried to be. But regardless, being in your final year of Uni, it was pretty nice to get a final winter break before graduation. The idea of staying with your parents wasn’t ideal. They’d spent years neglecting you and taking a toll on you emotionally, but in the time you’d been gone, it had seemed like things had improved. You agreed to go home for the holidays under this idea, hoping to have a nice break from everything, despite the heavy feeling in your chest that came from being in your hometown – that you’d proudly left behind – and the general dread of the holidays.

Wilbur wasn’t exactly the opposite. While he didn’t mind the holidays themselves, he hated the social conventions of it all. Particularly the insistence that you must be with family or else the holiday isn’t worth anything. However, Wilbur seemed to luck out this year. His mother and stepfather happened to book a cruise for the holidays, and all they wanted from him was to watch the house while they were gone. It gave him both the convention of helping out family without dealing with the mental decline that he gets from actually being around them, mostly his stepfather. So, he’d spend a month in his old bedroom, in the town he dreaded because the number of good memories he’d had all involved one person that left not long before he did.

When you’d finally arrived, it wasn’t long before your parents were hugging you and peppering kisses on your face, talking about how much they’d missed you, and asking if you were eating alright. It was loving, and you did appreciate it, but you felt uneasy. As your mother hugged you, it felt unfulfilling as you looked around the room, each familiar surrounding bringing up memories of your mother’s yelling. You’d settled down fairly easily, which tended to be a perk of returning to your childhood bedroom. After changing into something much more comfortable, you’d returned to where it seemed your family members had accumulated.

“Y/n, darling, my goodness, you’ve grown so much since I’ve last seen you! What are they feeding you out there in London?” It was your aunt who spoke to you. She was tame enough, save for when she got her hands on enough cosmopolitans to feel the need to share everyone’s gossip.

“It’s nice to see you too. And I cook for myself, in case you were wondering.” You deadpanned. Honestly, you just didn't feel like humoring her advances to pull information out of you. You’d fallen for them as a kid, but now, even with little to hide, you couldn’t quite trust her.

“Of course, you are, my genius. How’s the dating scene been?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, brushing it off, “Boring as ever.”

She hummed, taking a sip of her drink. Ah, looks like she may already be ready to gossip, you thought, noticing the soft flush on her cheeks consistent with her drunkness. Your suspicions were confirmed when she continued, “You know, your mum told me she saw that old fling of yours at the shops the other day. What was his name?” She hummed for a moment, “Wilbur! That’s what it is.”

Your chest turned to stone in a matter of seconds, and you forced out a response, “Oh, cool.”

It was not “oh, cool” however, it was very much not cool. You and Wilbur had been friends since the third form, and while you weren’t incredibly close at first, you became much closer as time went on and as social circles grew smaller and smaller. It came to the point where you two were inseparable, the best friend you’d had even until now. Your “fling” couldn't even really be classified as such. Despite how much you loved Wilbur Soot, you and him just never seemed to break that barrier, save for one weekend in your final year of A-levels. You’d planned to go to prom together, neither of you being romantically involved with anyone else, but you never actually made it to prom. You both went and sat in a field outside the back of the school, sharing a bottle of vodka he’d lifted from his stepdad’s stash. It was then that he’d opened up to you about how embarrassed he felt to be leaving school without having ever kissed a girl before. The mixture of his vodka and your love for him ultimately amounted to a few sloppy kisses, a moment’s worth of making out, before the two of you both had to run from a counselor who was looking for any delinquent students. Neither of you ever addressed it again.

The years you two had known each other eventually culminated in the same relationship that you had with most people these days: you leaving him and losing contact. You didn’t mean to leave him behind, but between a full scholarship in London and his insistence on how shitty London is, you had to leave.

You thought about him frequently. There were numerous nights where you’d open up his contact and attempt to draft a message, but it always ended in watching the cursor blink as you struggled to find the words. Honestly, you never thought you’d see him again. You knew nothing about him anymore, what he was like, what he was doing. It was impossible to decide if you dreaded seeing him or would go out of your way to attempt to see him.

After catching up with your family for a bit longer, you decided to step out. Honestly, you didn’t know where you were going. It was late, almost midnight, and you just needed the fresh air. After walking into town, you found the one thing that would realistically be open this time of night: the pub. It was mostly empty, save for a few older folks sitting in some booths around the wall. You recognized the bartender, he was a few years above you back in school, but he always made an effort to be kind to everyone. He grinned at you once you sat at the bar.

“Well, if it isn’t Y/N L/N. Shit, I would’ve thought you died," he chuckled, "You visiting for the holidays?”

“Yep. And trust me, I’d quite rather be dead than be around my whole family all day.”

He laughed, “Let me guess, a martini for the sophisticated Londoner?”

You laughed back, “God, no, I haven’t exactly been converted over yet. Just a pint.”

“Still the same as before?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded out, sighing softly. Being here felt a lot less tense than being at home. At least here you didn’t have to deal with the hushed fights and curses whispered between spouses.

Wilbur had been incredibly excited by the idea of being alone when he first arrived at his old house a week before. It wasn’t long before it got old.

“Alright, chat, who should we raid?”

His chat moved rapidly in response to his words. He’d been playing Minecraft with Tommy, not unlike usual, but he’d been live for an hour and a half, which was a long time to hold up a persona for. Once he’d ended, he stayed on call with Tommy through Discord.

“I dunno, man. I like being alone, like having the place to myself, but I’ve never felt so lonely,” Wilbur paused, “This place is way bigger than I remember.”

“So go somewhere,” Tommy offered.

Wilbur groaned, “You do understand that there is nothing to do here. It’s part of the reason I settled on Brighton.”

“Oh, c’mon, there’s gotta be something there for you to do. Don’t you have at least, like, a park or a pub maybe? You could go meet women!”

“Tommy, I know every woman in this town, nobody has moved here or left here since I left,” he sighed, “we do have a pub though. Honestly, that’s not a bad idea. I could go for a drink.”

“See! Just gotta think outside the box. Have a little optimism, man. Maybe you’ll see that person you knew in school.”

“Tommy, don’t.” Wilbur genuinely considered leaving the call, his heart sinking at the mention of his old friend, “They haven’t been back since they left, alright?”

“Yeah, but you never know! Have you thought about what you’d say to them if you did see them?”

“No,” he groaned, “I don’t know why I’m humoring this, but if I saw them, I’d probably be nice. As much as it hurts, I miss them, and it’s not like I reached out much either, so.”

Tommy hummed, “Wilbur the Wise, you are. At least maybe if you do see them, you’ll be much less bored.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Wilbur sighed, pulling an old beanie on. “Alright, I’m going to head out, talk to you later, man.”

“Have fun!”

Wilbur hung up the call after a moment, sighing a bit as he stretched. While he didn’t actually want to go to the pub, it was a better idea than staying in another night. Plus, at least he could get to walk his old path and try and see some of the cats he always used to stop for.

His walk did end up taking quite a while. He only spotted two cats on the way, but he’d given them as much attention and love as they’d allow. But that wasn’t really what took up so much of his time. He kept going back to what Tommy had asked. Honestly, he did not even consider he’d see you here. For a long time after you’d left for school, he thought that one day he’d see you walking to the shops and he’d go up to you, and just by saying hello, everything would feel like it used to. After a while, he’d lost hope that he’d ever see you again. He’d tried to find you online, some scrap to see how you had been and to see if you were okay, but he knew he couldn’t exactly just follow you without the risk of questions. He cursed himself for a long while over his pettiness in never reaching out. He thought about that prom night often. Part of him couldn’t make peace with the idea that his best friend, someone who he’d fallen in love with the second they’d spoken to him, was now just a stranger to him. It didn’t make sense to him, but what made even less sense was when Wilbur opened the door to the pub to find you sitting alone at the bar.

Wilbur’s breathing went full stop when he saw you. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but whether that was from the cold or the shock he felt seeing you, he couldn’t tell. Once he could feel his body again, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He’d have to make a choice right now, and he’d have to make one he wouldn’t eventually regret, but-

“Wilbur! Mate, close the door, would you, you’re lettin' in a draft!”

You felt frozen in your seat when you heard the bartender– whose name, you were kindly reminded, was Liam– yell to Wilbur. You didn’t know if you wanted to look up at him or look anywhere but him. Eventually, curiosity got the best of you, and you looked up directly into his eyes as he stood in the doorway. He seemed to come back to life after a second, turning to walk towards the bar.

“Uh, right, sorry, man. Could I get a pint?”

He sat across the corner of the bar, close but still seemingly holding you at a distance.

After Liam walked away, he turned back to you, and for a moment, you both stared, trying to find words. He’d grown quite fit since the last time you’d seen him. He was still tall, but not quite as lanky. His shoulders have filled out nicely.

You decided to start, stuttering a bit as you began, “Hi, Wilbur.”

He seemed to think for a moment before the look faded from his face and something kinder replaced it, “Hi.”

“How- um,” you contemplated even asking, but you’d rather ask than be sitting here in awkward silence with the boy you’ve loved for years, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been…” He took in a breath, a moment to compose himself, before responding, “I’ve been good, actually. How about you?”

You considered lying. “I’m okay, could be better but…”

“But?”

“Well, I’m still doing the whole uni thing, so still just living in London. Not many developments.”

“Right. How is London?”

You thought back to your apartment. Your shitty apartment and your three roommates who you never spoke to, the leaks in the ceilings, the constant noise, the crowds, the grey fogs that would weigh down on your lungs, the deaths on the tube, the harassment just from walking to campus, everything. “It sucks. The city is horrible,” you sighed, “The school is alright, though. The people are standoffish and don’t talk, but the education is good.”

Wilbur looked as though he was fighting off a smile, taking a sip from the beer he’d been given. “I’m sorry to hear that. Glad the school is good. It may not be my place exactly, but do you mind if I say something?”

Dread filled your chest. “Well, you have to now.”

A smile crossed his face, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “I told you so.”

A moment of processing passed before you burst into laughter. Of course, after all the years you knew Wilbur Soot, you probably could have predicted that would be the first thing he’d want to say to you.

“Okay, okay, I can admit. Maybe you were a little right. I’ve got my regrets, but despite the city, I don’t hate my choice,” you took a sip from your pint, “what about you? How’s life been?”

He shrugged a bit, “I’d say good. I did some schooling online and graduated a bit ago. Been doing some work, uh, online, so yeah. It’s been good.”

“Oh, that sounds cool. Anything I’d know?”

“Uh, maybe…” He went quiet for a moment before continuing, “I work for Twitch if you know that company.”

You shrugged, “I know of them. That’s cool though, I’m glad you found something you enjoy.”

He smiled a bit, “Yeah, it’s been nice. I’ve made quite a few friends.”

“Really?” That was a bit of a surprise, “Shy little Wilby is making work friends?”

He seemed to flush a bit, chuckling, “I’ve gotten better about the shyness.”

“That’s good. You seem to be doing better in that department than I have. I haven’t changed much at all, I think.”

He hummed, pondering. He stared for a moment, and you almost felt shy under his gaze. Finally, after what felt like ages, he spoke up, “You do your hair differently. You used to part it to the side.”

You laughed, surprised by the unexpected statement, instinctively reaching up to fix some stray hairs. It brought a blush up to your cheeks, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone had noticed such a small detail as that. You bit your lip for a moment before responding, “Yeah, I- I guess so. Though, to be fair, we kind of had the whole edginess thing going on back then. Had to look the part.”

“Very true,” He snorted a bit, “I still listen to the same music for the most part though.”

“Oh, let me guess. Favorite band is still Los Campesinos!?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “though I play a bit of my music now too.”

“Oh?” that was a major development. Wilbur spent a significant amount of time in school talking about how much he wanted to play music, always humming some tune to himself, “Will, that’s fantastic. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I could show you now, if you’d like. I’m just watching the house for my parents, so I brought some of my music equipment with me.”

You don’t know what made you so willing to say yes. Maybe it was the fact that you’d finished your pint. Maybe it was just the way that being here and talking to Wilbur made the heaviness in your chest finally lighten up since you first realized you’d have to go home. Either way, before you knew it, you and Wilbur were walking back to his place, chatting lightly the whole way there.

“Wow, this place hasn’t changed.”

You took off your coat as you and Wilbur entered his front door.

“My parent’s haven’t made much of an effort to change things. They think the nineties are still in.” He joked lightly as he locked the door behind you both.

You chuckled, “Yeah, I can see that.” You followed him up the stairs, “So, you said you were just watching the place for them. I take it you don’t live here anymore?”

“Nope, I’ve been living in Brighton, actually. I think you’d really like it. It’s still England, so it’s not great, but the ocean is gorgeous.”

“I’ve been meaning to go down there, actually. It’s only about an hour's train from me, so sometimes my roommates go down there for long weekends. I just haven’t had the time.”

He hummed, “Well, whenever you do have the time, let me know. I’ve got a pretty nice spare room. Plus, I could introduce you to my mates.”

You smiled softly, mostly to yourself, “Yeah. That would be nice.”

He sat down on his bed, reaching behind him and grabbing his guitar. You took a moment to look around the room. The same posters were still hung up, the dents in the wall from you and him goofing off and throwing things, even the scuffs on the floorboards from when you and him rearranged all his furniture. In the years of separation, you expected more of a difference. The only actual difference was that the room was cleaned for once. You hesitated before sitting next to him as you made your observations. He noticed.

“What’s up?”

I shrugged, “It’s weird. Being back here, I mean. I haven’t sat here since A-levels.”

He nodded, thinking it over for a moment. “Yeah. It is a bit weird. Doesn’t it kind of seem like nothing’s changed though?” He chuckled, “I mean, despite the time gap, you always did say being here made you feel safe.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “the feeling is still there. I just feel… weird. I’m used to missing you and all of our memories, but I’m not used to being here again after everything that has changed.”

He smiled slightly, “you missed me?”

I chuckled, “Obviously, man. I missed you every day. Missed having a best friend to bully.”

He snorted, “Hey, all of our bullying was friendly. Unlike some of the other wankers at our school.”

You laughed, throwing your head back, “Oh god, yeah. Bloody hell, man, I feel bad for their kids. Marshall’s going into medicine, and my god, I pray I never end up as his patient. I feel like his negligence alone would kill me.”

Wilbur laughed, leaning into you a bit. “God, that is not a man who should have a medical license,” he sighed softly. “Don’t fret, though. I missed you a lot too. I missed having someone yell at me to go outside or cut my hair.”

You laughed, “Yeah, my yelling comes from a good place, though.”

He hummed, “True. It did help me not go stir-crazy for a while there.” He paused for a moment, turning towards you slightly. “Wait, if you missed me, then… why didn’t you ever call?”

You took a deep breath, sighing softly. “Honestly, at first… I thought you might be mad at me for leaving. We did kind of have a whole argument about it, and I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me. And then, once some time had passed, I considered it. I considered looking you up and trying to talk to you, or even just texting you, but I just felt like it might’ve been weird for me to just text you out of the blue. I didn’t want you to think I was just contacting you because I needed something or something stupid like that. I got busy, and more time passed, and reaching out just felt weirder and weirder each time I considered it.”

He nodded softly. He didn’t make eye contact as he listened and thought. “If I’m being honest as well, I didn’t want to hear from you at first. I was pretty upset. But after a while, I just missed my best friend. And I was going to text you, but I thought you’d be upset with how we left things. I wanted you to reach out because if I had hurt you, I couldn’t handle reaching out only to get anger, or even worse, just silence,” He sighed, “but if I knew you were thinking the same, I would have dedicated as much effort as I have to keep you in my life.”

You flushed a bit, “I would have too.” You made eye contact with him and everything felt warm for a moment, as if his gaze was sunlight peering through dark clouds.

“Now that I know, though,” he started, “I am going to annoy the fuck out of you.”

You laughed loudly at that, grinning up at him, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ve got a few years to make up for after all.”

He grinned softly, looking down for a moment. He pulled his guitar up a bit, smiling, “Well, now that that’s settled. Let me play you something.”

Wilbur’s music was beautiful. He played for an hour before he decided to stop, something about not wanting to play anything he hadn’t quite finished yet.

“Always the perfectionist, you are,” you commented as he placed his guitar down.

“Not always, I’ve gotten better about it. But I want to impress you mostly.”

“Really?” He sat back down on the bed next to you, “You wanted to impress me?”

He nodded, humming out a soft ‘mmhm’.

“If I knew we were trying to impress each other, I would’ve made my life sound much cooler.”

“Oh, really, how so?”

“I dunno, would’ve made it sound like I have some millionaire boyfriend who takes me to Spain for a casual date.”

He hesitated, his teeth taking his bottom lip in thought. “Do you have one?”

“A millionaire boyfriend?” You laughed out, “No, Wilbur, I d-“

“No, I just meant like, a boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You frowned a bit, “No. I don’t. Haven’t exactly gotten to know many people there. Plus, all the men are quite shit.”

He nodded, “Just like everything else in London?”

“Pretty much,” You chuckled softly, “What about you though? A handsome guy like you in Brighton, I’m sure you’ve gotten yourself, someone, by now.”

He shrugged, “Tried it out for a while, but I just didn’t have much luck.” He stopped as he processed your response in full, “Hold on, handsome? You think I’m handsome?” He teased.

You lightly blushed, rolling your eyes, “Obviously, man. You’ve always been quite fit. Especially with that haircut rather than that straight line cut you used to have.”

He laughed, “God, that was horrendous. Well, wait, how about now,” he took his hands and pushed his hair back, revealing his forehead.

You burst out laughing, “Somehow, yes, even if your forehead takes up half your face.”

He laughed, moving his hands and shaking his head to get his hair to fall back into place. “I can safely say, I find myself quite flattered. Especially coming from an incredibly pretty person such as yourself.”

You flushed a soft pink, “You think?”

“No, I don’t think, I just know facts.”

You blushed darker, chuckling. “Well, thanks.” You lightly nudged him with your side.

He repeated the action, albeit slightly harder. You two did this for a moment, each going slightly harder until he’d accidentally gone a bit too hard, knocking both of you down.

You both laughed, him laying his head against your side for a moment, before pulling himself up and holding himself up by his arm above you.

“You’re still as goofy, Mr. Soot.”

“Only with you.”

“Oh?”

“Actually, no. But this kind of goofy, yes.”

“And what kind is that?”

He just stared down at you for a moment. You felt yourself flush a bit under his gaze, and you stared back up at him. The light from his room gave him a soft halo glow around his head that made him look completely angelic. You’d always thought him attractive, but fuck he was ethereal like this.

“The kind I do to make pretty people laugh.”

Your breath hitched, but you were quiet otherwise. You couldn’t remember a time when your best friend was ever so… bold. Maybe part of you was reading into the tension, but the most gorgeous man you’d ever know just called you pretty. That plus his position above you was enough to make your heartbeat faster. You wanted to kiss him. Something in you felt so strongly the urge to wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him. For some reason you couldn’t quite fathom, though, you didn’t.

“Well, feels nice being special, then.”

He laid down next to you, the both of you just staring at the ceiling for a few quiet moments as the tension diffused.

He turned to you. “I can’t tell if I still know almost everything about you or if I know nothing anymore.”

“I can’t tell either.” You turned back to him, sighing, “Honestly, you probably still know more about me than I do.”

“You think?”

You nodded.

He thought to himself, “Still play Minecraft?”

“God, no,” You laughed, “I wish. I just don’t have the time for anything like that. I’ve just been studying constantly.”

“Unfortunate. If you ever need a break from studying, we could always play together.” He hummed, “ They’ve added a lot of cool things to the game.”

“You still play?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I play a lot. It’s a fantastic narrative tool, in fact.”

“Oh, really?”

“If you have enough people willing to work out a story and act it out, it makes for a cool platform to tell stories.”

You smiled, despite it being only for Wilbur’s sake. Honestly, you were sad that you didn’t know what he was talking about.

“What’s up?”

“Hm?” You questioned softly.

“Something’s wrong. I still know one of your fake smiles when I see them.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, “no, it’s just… I missed you. I’m a bit bummed that I can’t see the cool stuff you’ve done since.”

“Well,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck, “actually, you can.”

You gave him a confused look as he continued.

“You know how I mentioned I worked for Twitch?” You nodded, “well when I say that, I mean that I stream, actually, so playing live for people and that includes all my stories.”

“Wilbur, that’s amazing.”

“I know,” he laughed, “I’m still shocked people are interested in what I write and create.”

“If they’re anything like your DnD campaigns, I’m not shocked at all.”

He laughed again, throwing his head back, “Oh, man, I loved making those as convoluted as possible though, you were the one who made the stories make sense. These are more streamlined since we have to deal with so many different schedules and coordinate stuff.”

“God, that sounds stressful. I can barely coordinate plans with one person.”

He shrugged, “It’s easier since streaming is all of our jobs. It’s more like assigning work shifts.”

You hummed, “That makes sense.”

“Yeah, I can send you some stuff from it. Though, be warned, without your aid, some pieces of lore are wildly convoluted.”

You chuckled, “I expect nothing less.”

You and Wilbur continued to talk for hours, just catching each other up on life and new habits, and every detail missed between the cracks of time you two were separated from each other. You couldn’t be sure when you or Will fell asleep, but you woke up feeling safer than you’d had in a long time. When you’d briefly woken up to the morning light coming through the blinds, and you noticed his lanky arm wrapped around you, you gently reached down and held his hand in yours before falling back into the kind arms of rest.

You woke up again about two hours later. You were facing him now, both of your legs wrapped between each other, and his arm was still lightly cupping your back. You opened your eyes to see him still sleeping, a soft and peaceful expression on his face. You gently reached a hand up to brush some of his hair away from his eyes. You were so busy staring at his soft features that you barely noticed his eyes open.

“Good morning to you too, then,” he spoke, his voice laced with sleep.

Your hand jumped back, a blush immediately rising to your cheeks, “Sorry.”

“‘s alright. Felt quite nice, actually.” He blinked the sleep out of his eyes after a moment, and he flushed himself, going to move his hand off your waist, “Oh, sorr-“

“No.” You stopped him, his arm halting midair, “It’s okay. It felt quite nice,” you said, mimicking his words from a moment ago.

He blushed, cautiously lowering his arm back onto your side.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked.

“Yeah. Your room feels more familiar than mine, honestly.”

He chuckled, his laughter slightly gruff from the early morning, “You probably spent more time here than at your own place, so I can’t say I’m shocked.”

You laughed, “Oh, almost definitely. What about you, did you sleep well?”

He smiled at you, nodding, “Best I’ve slept since I got here. I felt much less lonely.”

“I know what you mean. My room kind of just feels cold. Not temperature-wise, but just like,” you sighed, “you know what I mean.”

“Luckily, I do.” He smiled, “You’re welcome to stay here again, if you like.”

You hummed, “I might consider it. Though I would like to stop home to put on something clean.”

He nodded, “Right, of course, yeah. I actually have to stream today, too, so, if anything, just,” he trailed off, “text me around eight?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “That sounds good. I can bring some food from home too, given that I know you have probably just been eating takeout or, god forbid, have been trying to cook by yourself.”

“Hey, I’m much better at cooking than I used to be,” he laughed. “You’re right about the takeout, though.”

You snorted, “I know you well, Mr. Soot.”

He smiled fondly, “You sure do.”

The two of you just lay there quietly, basking in the early air and light. After a few minutes, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest quietly.

“Is everything alright?” He whispered.

You nodded against him, burying your face deeper against him while he wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt emotional all of a sudden as you held onto him: Your best friend, who you’d secretly loved for years. And now, you thought about what held you back in the past. The main thing you were afraid of was losing him, but in the end, that ended up happening anyway. Love confession or not, you lost him, and now, you were given another chance by whatever fateful creature may exist out there. And as insistent as you were to not lose this chance, your logic stopped you. This trip was just that: a trip. In two weeks, you’d be back to your place in London and he would be back in Brighton. But yet there was an ache in your chest, consistent with longing and want but entirely unattainable.

“Stop thinking so much,” he spoke softly, placing his chin on top of your head.

“Wilbur, you know that is entirely impossible for me.”

“Okay,” he trailed off, “then do you want to talk about it, so it can at least be out of your head?”

You did. You wanted to talk about it all, in its entirety, if only just to know if the ache present in your chest matched an ache in him. But you couldn’t. If that ache wasn’t present in him, who would you be to share it with him? The solution seemed to lie in half-truths.

“I’m just thinking about how I go home in two weeks and how much I’m dreading it. I don’t want to go back to schoolwork.”

He hummed, nodding, “It’s probably not helpful to say, but if you dwell on that the whole time you’re here, then it will come twice as fast. You’ve got to slow your brain down a bit. Try and just be in the moment.”

You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He chuckled, “Hey, my anxiety might take over sometimes, but it really does help to try and just focus on what’s happening, you know. You’re safe here,” he lightly kissed the top of your head, “so just focus on being here.”

You sighed, “I’ll try.” You shifted your focus to the soft sound of his heartbeat against your ear, the feeling of his arms wrapped around your back. Every detail was comprised of him.

You eventually did have to go home, after receiving a frantic call from your mum about how you “couldn’t just sneak off every time you got bored” which, granted, you disagreed with; you knew this town like the back of your hand, and you’re an adult so it’s not like she can dictate your every move. When you made it home, you went to your room to change and shower, but your thoughts immediately drifted back to Will. You never really noticed just how many minute details you had memorized, like the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the way he would tilt his head back when something that caught him offguard made him really laugh. You thought about the way he would hiccup in between laughter so strong it made his ribs hurt. The sly smile he would give you when you made eye contact but neither of you had anything to say. Your thoughts were entirely consumed by him.

By the time it was dinner, you had done almost extensive research into Wilbur’s online persona. You watched as many videos as you could, some of his, some of them fan-made. It was a weird concept, your best friend having fans. You’d gone onto the online space briefly before backing away. You didn’t exactly want to intrude on fan debates given how much you knew about Wilbur really. It was odd watching him talk to his chat and everything. It was so different. He didn’t seem like the shy, almost moody, boy you knew. He was much more confident and comfortable. It did warm your heart to see him being so strong in himself. Your mind wonderer over this new information, how different he was from the person you knew, as you ate. You almost didn’t hear your mum speaking to you.

“Dear, are you listening?”

You brought yourself out of your thoughts, grimacing. She hated when you weren’t listening, “Oh, sorry. No, uhm, what’s up?”

She frowned, giving you a cold stare, “I asked if you’ve found any jobs lined up yet. For after graduation?”

You sighed, “Not yet, Mum.”

“Because my old work friend, Charles, he could use the extra folks there. They’re looking into expanding into America.” She never actually cared much about what you wanted to do, always trying to push you into the field she wanted you to pursue.

“I’ll be fine. I can find a job myself. And Charles doesn’t even work in the same field my degree is in.”

“Just trying to help,” she tutted, tucking her arms defensively in front of her. “What’s on your mind these days?”

You shrugged tensely, “School and work. I haven’t had time for much else.”

She cooed, almost mocking, “You really should be looking into a relationship, dearie. You don’t want all the good ones taken, right?”

“God, mum, stop that. I’m fine on my own.”

“But are you happy?” She laughed, as if taunting you.

“I resent the implication that I cannot be perfectly fine and happy on my own without the presence of another person to fulfill me.” You spat.

“I’m not saying that specifically, I’m just saying, you really ought to try harder. I’m sure most people don’t find your constant sweatpants that attractive.”

You groaned, standing. “I can’t be here for this anymore.”

She did this every year. Constantly reminding you of your own loneliness under the guise of being thoughtful and caring, rather than just understanding that you are your own person who’d rather be alone before feeling like someone’s personal doll.

You strode to the kitchen, filling a container with some leftovers for Wilbur as your mother tried helplessly to justify her own points. You waved her off, grabbing your bag before walking out the door.

You let out a sigh once you headed out. You walked to the end of the street and sat on the curb, pulling out your phone to text Wilbur. Once you got confirmation that you could come, you stood and walked the short distance to his place.

He opened the door, and you walked in casually.

“You look annoyed about something,” he noted.

“I would like you to take a wild guess,” you hummed, handing him the leftovers.

He murmured a quick ‘thank you’ before responding, “Your mum?”

“Still as bad as before, she is.”

He sighed, “At least you’ve got mine to hide out at. Want to watch a movie or something?”

taglist: @shubblelive / @superioritycomplexes (dm me or send an ask to be added!)

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mar writes #wilbur x reader #tis the damn season au #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur

108 notes · View notes

opinated-user · 1 year

Text

LO victim blaming again

please, please, please. whoever ends up reading this post or found this blog by chance, if there is anything at all i can convince you to do, even if you do think that all allegations against LO hold no water, please do not follow the advice of LO on this. this is a terrible idea that has all the potential to get people killed. don't do this. don't listen to this woman because she has no idea what she's talking about. i know that seeing a friend you love and care about being in an abusive relationship is hard, and even more so when this person refuses to leave despite all your good faith advice. i know that feeling. if you absolutely can't handle the situation anymore and is giving you too much distress, then do what you have to do for yourself. keep a reasonable distance if you absolutely must for your own sake and take care of yourself, but please know that leaving an abusive relationship is extremely hard for the victim and they aren't themselves when they're on one. it's one of the hardest things a person can do. you'd think that since LO is the one who keeps insisting was on a abusive relationship that lasted years, she'd know that already, but i guess she's the only victim who deserves understanding and compassion. everyone else just wants to be miserable and wants to be abused. well, she's wrong. more wrong that she has ever been. please, understand this and know that this person doesn't want to "walk to the jaws of death", like LO callously saying there (the fact that she's talking this casually about someone's else life to a love one of that person should tell you everything you need to know). this person probably do love their partner and think things can get better or, i don't know, that the good moments they have together are worth the bad ones. whatever their reasoning is, try to listen to them and offer them a safe space where they know they can come back to when they're ready to leave. i'm not an expert on any of this either, so here are some resources i found and the numbers you can call if you find yourself in a situation like this. https://www.joinonelove.org/learn/help_a_friend/

take care of yourselves, but also try to understand what's actually happening with your friend and where they come from. if you care about them don't cut them off, especially if you do fear there's a genuine risk to their life, because even if they do decide to leave someday they'll need the support then more than ever before. there's too many cases of abuse victims who ended being killed when they tried to leave or were killed after moving out because their abusers tracked them down. if this relationship is as bad as anon believes it to be, the person inside of it probably knows this too on some level. that fear can also be a factor for someone staying on those relationships.

what LO is saying is not "harsh", it's cruel and it will isolate victims even more than what their abuser already did.

#lily orchard #lily orchard victim blames #tw: abuse

156 notes · View notes

missglaskin · 2 years

Text

Yandere Targaryen family HCS (Platonic)

Note: This is inspired greatly by @anxiousnerdwritings based on the scenario of Aerys (the mad king) taking a child passing it as his

Characters: Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaella Targaryen, Aerys Targaryen + (Viserys Targayen)

Because of the isolation and constant fear of his imprisonment, Aerys' mental health deteriorated. His council already accepted his descending to madness, but for Aerys to suddenly bring in a young girl and claim that they’re his ‘child’. Even Varys was astonished by that level of madness. No silver-blonde hair, no purple eyes, no Targaryen features were evident in his supposed child. Not even have a single ounce of valyrian or Targaryen blood.

Yet no one had said a word as those who did suffered the consequences. The entire court watched silently as Aerys welcomed his new child into his family. In the midst of coddling the confused and frightened 'child,' Aerys summoned each of his allies and small council members, forcing them to accept his new child; you, as a Targaryen. A few of the lords and ladies of the court pitied you as rumors spread through the king's landing about the manner in which you were taken from your biological family and placed in the mad king’s arms, but more importantly, they wanted to know how the king’s son and wife reacted to the news.

The lord and the ladies of court fully expected Rhaegar and Rhaella to be outraged, to at least try to knock some sense to their king, and while Rhaegar did so at first, his next course of actions was even more of a bigger shock. It has been rumored that both Rhaegar and Rhaella accepted you into their family. The servants claim Rhaella has been dressing you in pretty dresses and jewelry, and seeing Rhaegar playing the harp with you beside him.

The two have their reasons for accepting you as quickly as they did. Rhaella has suffered many miscarriages, in a way she sees you as her second chance at starting again. There’s also all the abuse and loneliness that contribute to it. Loneliness was also what made Rhaegar accept you in the family. More so, learning of your curiosity towards art and music made him be drawn to you even more.

After Rhaella birthed Viserys, you were one of the few allowed to be near. Even as a babe, Viserys constantly wanted your attention or his mother’s. He genuinely grew up believing you were his biological sister, even when your appearance says otherwise. Anyone who mentions your forced adoption will meet Viserys’ wrath, regardless of whether he faces the truth or not.

Back to Aerys, one would think, he may be ecstatic to see his son(s) and wife welcome you. Unfortunately, all it did was cause Aerys to be more aggressive and distrusting towards his family. He thinks they’re hypocrites, especially Rhaegar. First they disapprove of you and now, they want you all to themselves; over his dead body. Eventually after some time, the family breached an agreement, though Aerys continues breaking it and, when confronted, claims he’s the king and can do whatever he wishes.

It’s no secret that you hold some small power over the king. Such as convincing Aerys not to execute certain people as it’ll upset you. Or telling the king you enjoy orange cakes to which he will serve you every day if you wish. Times you convince him to take care of his hygiene or distract him so he wouldn’t lash out on Rhaella.

But there’s also a horrible side to Aerys. Because of his constant paranoia, he too fears someone will poison/ hurt you. Hence, why he has you surrounded by guards at all times or has every food and drink be checked. There are unwritten rules that one must not touch, stand too close, or even look at you for more than a few seconds if they wish to live another day. Sometimes, Aerys grabs into you a little too tight, making you promise him you will never betray him, never leave him and if you do so, he will burn all king’s landing. And from the look in his eyes, there’s a gut feeling deep inside telling you, it is not an empty threat.

Out of all the family members, you feel closest to Rhaegar as he’s more ‘tamer’. He lets you go horse riding with you seated in the front. Both of you also enjoy taking a walk around the garden, with Rhaegar more than once gifting you a beautiful rose. Rhaegar enjoys teaching you how to dance or how to play the harp.

Since you spend a lot of time with Rhaegar, which frustrates Aerys, Mooton and Dayne, become familiar faces. Jaime Lannister was also a familiar face. Unlike Mooton and Dayne, who engaged in a bit of a conservation with you and seemed quite fond of you (mostly because Rhaegar told them to look out for you), Jaime is quite distant. Though the only time he acknowledged you was when you convinced your ‘father’ to have Jaime play in the tournament.

Rhaella didn’t like you going to tournaments, she didn’t want you to witness any possible bloodshed. In her mind, no matter your age, you’re her little girl, one that she must protect from all the evil. It was the reason she didn’t like you being in the throne room with Aerys, as it meant you’d witness his executions and cruel punishments.

If you were to mention your previous family or how you’re not related to them. The whole family would be devastated. Aerys would become livid, getting into a screaming fit, and this might encourage him to wipe out not only your immediate family, but your entire lineage. Rhaella might cry depending on how harsh your words are, embracing you and not wanting to let you go, making you feel guilty. Rhaegar would only show disappointment, and try to make you feel bad, having you remember all his gifts and the moments you spent together.

#yandere x reader #game of thrones x reader #asoiaf x reader #rhaegar targaryen x reader #rhaella targaryen x reader #aerys targaryen x reader #yandere game of thrones #yandere asoiaf #yandere headcanons #x reader #reader insert #platonic yandere

951 notes · View notes

dreamofmetoday · 11 months

Text

TZUYU REPUTATION IN THE INDUSTRY READING

how female idols view tzuyu overall:

they think she has been through a lot and has been treated very poorly in the industry. honestly it’s very concerning because the level at which it’s coming up for so many women to feel sorry for her means it would be worse than what the average woman in the industry goes through - they really feel bad for what has happened her (it can even cause whispers when she’s around like, “she’s that one they did ***** to” etc). this is also interesting to me because as far as i know she is not one of the members that has taken a mental health break publicly but it seems it’s pretty much known that she’s broken down before (that she has really suffered some terrible things) and has had to rebuild herself. a lot of them theorise that she likely won’t stay in korea forever, thinking she has been too hurt and abused during her time there. they see her has very strong, almost surprised at her resilience to keep going and to stay strong. they think she has been permanently damaged though, that she is now closed off and distant - they basically see her as someone who believes she only has herself at the end of the day so she doesn’t even try letting people in. they worry she doesn’t even know it’s not normal to be this way. they think she is very innocent and childlike, making it worse that she has experienced what she has. she is also seen as extremely pretty, a natural-looking and timeless beauty that they admire. they think she is very giving and she may even donate to charity often, volunteer for causes or attend church regularly.

how male idols view tzuyu overall:

a lot of male idols think she is wifey material - a good woman who is both pretty and has a classy and sweet personality. even men who don’t take dating seriously (are more concerned with flings or sleeping around) are sometimes like, “i would date tzuyu though”. but overall, they find her quite untouchable, she isn’t friendly and when men try to get close to her she asks a lot of questions - “why do you want to take me to dinner?”, “why do you want to take me out for drinks when we’ve barely ever talked?”, “why did you buy me this coffee when we’re not even close?” etc. so men don’t think she is really worth the hassle (it takes a lot of chasing to date her, they really have to prove themselves because she would rather be single and isn’t very interested in men). men also seem to know about what has happened to her and wonder if she’ll even stay in korea much longer. they think she only stays for money reasons, perhaps even family pressure to earn more while she can. they also seem to know she is religious or makes it clear she believes in and feels guided by a divine force.

how staff view tzuyu overall:

they see her as being more to the timid side, also knowing she has suffered a lot of heartache. they think she is distant and not as lively as other celebrities (or the other twice members). they see her as someone who is permanently damaged and affected by her past but that she really puts on a brave face and is professional. they also see her as someone romantic and someone who wants love - she may read romance novels or watch a lot of romcoms while waiting around. they view her as overall pure-hearted and think she believes in a higher power. staff that are new to her can have mixed impressions due to her closed off nature. overall, they think she will work with them to get done whatever needs to be done but she can be uncommunicative and make some things awkward - e.g. if she has a problem with something she will whisper something to another member or someone she is more comfortable with and not address it properly which some staff view as her being mean, but others will interpret it as her being a bit shy and insecure. she is seen as very secretive and cautious.

#tarot #kpop tarot #kpop #celebrity tarot #reputation reading #reputation in the industry reading #twice #twice tzuyu #tzuyu #tzuyu reputation #tzuyu reputation in the industry

89 notes · View notes

buttercup--bee · 1 year

Text

Burn my Desire II

Summary: Aemond Targaryen frightens you, his fearless brutality keeping you at bay. That does not, Gods forgive you, halt the yearning you feel for him. (2/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen/Female!Reader (Lady Ashford)

Warning(s): Heavy Implications Towards Sex; Past Childhood Abuse; Unhealthy Relationships; Emotional Manipulation; Dubious Consent; Minors DNI;

Note(s): Thank you so much to @sroka-zlodziejka, and forevermore a thousand thank you’s to @stardewbat - who literally helped get this story moving agian. Without them, I’d still be twiddling my thumbs, I swear to god.

Main Masterlist ~ Series Masterlist ~ Ao3 ~ Playlist ~ Next

I do not give permission for any of my works or their included components to be copied, translated, and/or reposted, even with credit.

When told you were to wed Aemond Targaryen, nothing but dread had filled you. Not much was known of him at the time of your union, only that he was deadly, temperamental, and had a dragon worthy of proving it.

Under the fear, the blatant terror, you had wondered. For why would House Hightower give up Viserys’ second son all for the womb of an Ashford? Once, you had believed they would search for a match worthy of Aegon himself, given that they had followed the Targaryen practice of intermarriage. Instead, you were gifted to your Prince husband, and are all the more dreadful for it.

Aemond’s title as second son was of no offense when Targaryens themselves only spared members of their family out of kindness, not duty. Many eager Lords looked to him as an equal to Aegon.

Allegiances sworn centuries ago did not grow well under the guise of dragon’s breath—but it still sprouted nonetheless. You suppose those who are chosen as new members of house Targaryen, are far too scared to poke holes in all their flaws.

Why, your father had lit up as bright as the sun on your family’s banner, when Otto Hightower asked for the betrothal on Aemonds behalf. You had not shined as he did.

In fact, you’re certain if it had not been for the shadows cast upon your face then, many would have witnessed the solemn fear cloaking you.

At present, the moment is as vivid in your memory as the day it happened. Fresh and lively and all too easy to remember.

It makes for common nightmares. Sordid, twisted tales that mirror the viper’s pit you’ve been left to rot in. Mother always did say you were not made for court. Even as a young child, she had done all she could to keep you home, away.

Away from prying Lords and Ladies who wished for nothing upon you but their self-satisfaction. Hopeful, as they always are, for word of torrid affairs within their court.

Your particular situation did you no favors. Lady Ashford made Princess Targaryen; no attributes, secret talents, nor a history worthy of the royal family. Just…you.

Some see it as a disgrace to those who petitioned their lovely, young daughters as a proffer of loyalty. A desire to hold the same strength as house Hightower does—to be inducted within the family for all it’s worth.

A reward for their devotion towards the current King.

Aegon, the fool he is, is more than content to recompense any Lord who piques his interest. No doubt the high Lords who denied Rhaenyra as Queen did so out of want for power, not because they believed Aegon to be Viserys’ chosen heir.

The King did have the benefit of being born a man; an acceptable replacement for a ‘mere’ woman.

Sometimes you imagine Rhaenyra seated atop the throne, head held high, her crown as sharp as the melded blades of Westeros’ fealty.

Other times, when you are brave enough for indulgence, you envision her fury as she takes the heads of those who betrayed her. Oddly enough, you can never bring yourself to have Aemond present in these fantasies.

You fear him, and yet you cannot reconcile with the meager idea of his death. To do so leaves your rabbits heart pittering in your stomach—warped and twisted.

It’s an attachment you cannot decipher. When you think of Aemond, you do not exclude the shield his name carries. Any harm that could have been inflicted on you, namely by the King, dissipated when Aemond draped a cloak of obsidian and gold atop your shoulders.

Perhaps it is gratitude, or something akin to its relief, that masks your dread around the dark Prince? Yet, you must recognize you did not feel this strongly for him, not until what had happened in his solar.

You try to forget, to abolish the memory from your mind until it is burnt to ashes—to dust.

Every night, when you are settled and smothered in fine cottons, you involuntarily relive the entire encounter all over again without your consent. His large hands hot against your hips, mouth pressed tight to your nape, and his aroma; dragon hide you can do without, but the floral soaps had been a welcome surprise.

It’s one you wish to experience once more despite yourself, though he has not asked for your presence since then. Not in such solitude. Your anxieties of approaching him overpower your underlying need to inhale him the way he had done to you.

Is this all it took? A fragment of affection and you were content? That should not appease you—you force it not to. The last thing you wanted was to approach him for a single touch, a caress to ease your anxieties.

But Aemond Targaryen is not a creature of comfort. He is burnt steel, rage, and death. The possibility of him taking you to bed, without a choice, snaps at your mind. One favor for another.

A beast lies in wait within your husband; as one does in all men. It savors the metallic bite of youth, submission, complete and utter control. Your maidenhead, a terrible voice snags at the back of your mind.

Gods, you wished for your mother. For her embrace and guidance. This is too much.

You're torn from your contemplation when a guard at your back announces another's entrance within your area of leisure.

Not a sound escapes your throat when Alicent Hightower waltz inside the gazebo; shoulders pulled back, jaw tense, hands clasped atop the emerald brocade of her skirts —

“You’re here,” she gleams, visibly relaxing when her gaze settles on you. It is an average sight; on your lonesome with only a book or needlework to keep you company, “leave us.” She commands, your personal guard hesitates only seconds before exiting.

“May I join you, good-daughter?”

Declining your good-mother is not an option, whether you wish to or not. Without a word, you put your bookmark in its place, and close your tome with a nod. She sits beside you, reeking of apples and honey and lavender.

Ser Criston Cole stands at the entrance of the gazebo you occupy, hand tight against the hilt of his sword. The sight always makes you ill at ease.

The Queen mother exhales, smiling briefly before averting her attention from your own. An uncommon interaction on her behalf. She has never avoided your patient inspection as she does now, her confidence lacking, and what appears to be remorse sagging her smile.

Before you can pend on its appearance, her expression morphs into one of mild tranquility.

“How are you faring?”

You are consumed in questionable silence, a frown tugging at your plush lips. Every so often she inquires about your mental health. No doubt to ensure you do not give reason to name yourself a hostage. The Reach, regardless of your marriage, has barred itself in a civil war.

Small Lords and civilians alike pledge for Rhaenyra, while the mighty remain loyal to Aegon. Soldiers have been abandoning their posts to fight for her, and you do not blame them.

Though, you cannot allow them to ever hear of your opinions. Neither can the Small Council. A single word from you, even a whisper of doubt upon your station, and many will take it as a sign. One that you are certain the Greens wish to avoid.

With a small, pliant simper, you answer, “I am doing well, Queen mother. Thank you.”

“Good,” she sighs, “I rarely see you anymore, with how often you are present in Aemond’s chambers.” Her laugh is as light as a bell, although forced, unsure.

As are you. In his chambers?

With a mild gape, you clench your book tightly. Why would he tell her that? You haven’t visited his rooms in almost a month. Do you explain this to her, or allow Aemond’s farce to remain? There must be a reason as to why he’d deceive his own mother. Dark Prince or no, you have never met a man as devoted to his sire as Aemond is.

For him to withhold the truth from her—that you spend most days isolated, reading or sewing or sketching—is astounding. You do not have much time to absorb what has been exposed to you, only instinct perseveres in your confusion.

“Ah, yes,” picking at the leather binds of your tome, you proceed, “he has been…attentive, as of late.”

Alicent, pleased with your answer, beams. It takes everything within you not to peek over at the Kingsguard, his brooding form a heavy shadow cast over you both. Would they speak of this later? Mull over your every word until they are satisfied that you are indeed no threat to them still. That you are ever the rabbit you came as, and have yet to shape yourself into anything dangerous.

You are doubtful you could become something more than collateral. A pawn you have been all your life, and there are few ways to climb out from the deep end without hurting others. If you truly wished for power, for absolution, you wouldn’t know where to begin, or if it's even possible.

Seven hells, the Gods know you don’t have the stomach for what they do. The people they hurt. Destroy.

Fire and Blood.

In the distance wildlife twitters, salt filled winds find rhythm in surrounding foliage, the ocean smooths over sand and kisses stone; it is empty, vast, lonely. Familiarity lies there too, rivulets of it trickle in your every crevice, every fold. Cold absence is to you what an old friend is to another.

A sweet embrace that chills you to the bone, and yet it is the only thing you can depend on. The only consistency that you have grown accustomed to. It torments you just as much as it gives you solitude.

At least you have some idea how your life will go on. No mystery or incertitude. Only what has been planned for you.

They crave obedience, a malleable piece easily swayed to their whims. Someone who will aid in their ascension to the throne, without the potential loose ends that might come from another—deceitful, power hungry, cunning—none of which you are.

Alicent is all and none of those things, as if she happens to fall into heaps of chaos by-weekly.

Many within the castle walls whisper of her cruel wit, but never of her desperate reach for protection. Smallfolk and servants alike murmur of her devout beliefs in the Seven, and the love she holds for her children, but even they do not see her as a creature of greed—even if the Blacks would have you do so.

You want to. Want to play folly and witness her acting the cretin; the monster. But most nights, you only see a mother—a child herself who labored heir after heir—unknowing what to do with her children, and is lost for it.

The very woman accosting your thoughts lays a graceful, near delicate palm atop your forearm.

She tightens her hold. Just enough for it to be considered forthright, comforting even. It has the opposite effect.

“I see much of myself in you,” she expels in a deep breath, discontent sprouting in morsels across her personage. You aren’t given time to acknowledge what she's said, her admittance anything but sweet, “which is why I must be blunt.”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, your lie a curse upon your lips, but she charges forth without a care for your interjections.

“You are a dutiful wife, my darling,” she begins, complexion made of steel, “but that duty does not end behind closed doors.”

Her comment slowly sinks within your mind; hot lips, strong hands, abdomen twisted in a nameless heat. It had left your thighs slick, your center had throbbed. You’d never experienced that before, and you fear Aemond will pull it from you once more.

Alicent clasps her hands, the motion brings you up for air—returns you to reality. “My son has offered a kindness I did not know he had,” she admits, a small wisp of pride laxens her posture, “but the wants of a Princess are beneath the needs of a Kingdom, let alone Aemond’s concerns for your comfort. It is your obligation as his wife to produce children, and it is his to ensure that it is done.”

What softness she has dissipates, her gentle coercion replaced by reverence. By a Queen.

She stands then, tall and narrow and divine. Your hummingbird's heart slips into tempo, overstrung and bleeding.

“You shall visit him tonight,” she scans the title of your book, the way you pinch into its gaudy flesh and frowns, “it must be done.”

The evening comes to you in a fog.

You feast alone, a blessing and a curse fit inside a thimble of apprehension. The entirety of it is spent picking at what little you can swallow, and when you are finished, no time is wasted in preparing you for the night.

Steaming, pearlescent water fills your golden tub to its rim. Orange slices, rosemary, and Myrish oils smother your body—the scent is overwhelming, but not unpleasant. It's almost nice enough to lose yourself in. The silence is flecked with wanton peace; desire for security, comfort, perhaps affection. You think of nothing and everything.

Of lilacs and lavenders and sapphires.

Strong hands. Hot lips.

“Rosemary will suit you.”

Startled, you slip further into the water, milky bubbles splashing against the stone floors. With bruising force, you halt your descent from beyond your chin, fingers grinding against solid gold in distress.

Aemond stands not far from where you are seated. Close enough to see the tops of your breasts, that you know. He makes no effort in hiding his appraisal, licking his lips as he takes in what has been exposed. He does give you the faint honor of being quick, diffident—for a husband needn’t take his wife nor her purity into account when she is his. Aemond doesn’t seem the type to take pleasure by force. Not with you. Not yet.

He finds your eyes, all but demanding you submit to his presence. It isn’t intentional, you think, as a man like him reeks of fire and blood. A heavy presence that hinders your forethought.

The Prince is draped in obsidian finery: expensive leather, lightweight brocade, and seamless stitching. It is a stark contrast to that of his Targaryen features. Porcelain laid bare in an endless inky, black sea.

Cotton swells at the back of your throat, occluding moisture, and your tongue suddenly feels twice its size. Candle light illuminates his silver-gold tresses, the dragon glass dagger at his hip, and you can create a clear portrait within your mind of his sapphire eye gleaming, as the rest of him does.

It’s glacial, collecting warmth and imbuing it with rage. A heavenly jewel from the Gods for an undeserving, wicked man.

Dark Prince. Kinslayer. Usurper.

Realization pours down your palate. Thick like molasses, without the telltale sweetness to soothe your dubiety. You were meant to go to him. To be paraded through the Red Keep like a gift—a threat. More were to come into this war, if that was what the Blacks wanted. And you were meant to be the messenger.

Did Alicent speak to him as well, or had he come of his own volition? It is one thing to be invited to his solar, and another for him to put aside responsibility in search of your resting quarters.

Why was he here? Gods, how long has he been standing there?

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he takes a step, then two, arms still locked behind his back. His shoulders seem somehow broader for it, generous chest cutting sharply into his trim waist.

Mouth parting, you draw your knees up as far as possible. “My Prince,” you address, demure, gentle: a lady’s armor.

“Husband,” he corrects, “would you like my assistance?”

Your skin prickles, cheeks scalding in embarrassment. There are no handmaid's present, and you do not wish to exit the tub without a robe to shield your modesty. Aemond has not seen you bare—he has yet to see much of you in general.

However, being well aware of your demands as a wife urges you to comply. It may be a suggestion, but you know what you are meant to do tonight. He was to see you regardless of your comfort.

I can do this, you shiver, fingers numb with exhaustion, he will be quick.

Slow to answer, Aemond’s jaw clenches, a groove of concern entrenched in his pale complexion. It doesn’t fade as it does most times, remaining steadfast in its earlier visage.

His baritone echoes throughout your chamber, velvet smooth and singed in flame. “I shall fetch a handmaid for you.”

He turns on his heel, beginning towards the door.

Alicents' saccharine, though candid nature slithers upright in your mind. A reflection of Aemond’s hostility, his banal affliction towards family, and sharp tongue. You have seen what it means to upset Aemond Targaryen from afar. You don’t want to tempt fate, and discover Alicent is a fury unspoken for.

“Aemond,” you manage to eke out, compliance heavy against your sternum. You’ve never said his name before. Not aloud.

Dense footfalls come to an abrupt stop.

Lower lip threatening to quiver, you suck in a breath, “Some help would be much appreciated.”

It is a slow descent, his gait calculative; Dragons do not think of consequences. They burn and bleed and destroy. Hunt the weak as they do the brave. Aemond reminds you of such a beast, authoritative, domineering, and dictates the lives of the smallfolk and lords alike. All powerful. All consuming.

Heavy cloth bristles behind you, the thick smack of him straightening it out. You bite your lip when he stops beside the basin, cerulean linen held high. Chancing a glance his way, you find him looking the other direction.

Gulping, you slowly stand, shivering as you do. The stone is cold, and you hiss at the sensation while securing the robe around your figure. Aemond flickers your direction, acute interest blatant.

No warning is given when he strides forward, knocking your knees from under you, and pulling you into his chest in a single heave. In an effort to keep your balance, your arms swing around his neck, and you nearly shout under the duress of it.

His body is lithe; solid against you. Agile fingers—smoldering, brokered in flame—crane over the plush expanse of your thighs, melding beneath your weight. Your nails nip at his neck, though Aemond does not react. He is brisk, easily hauling you from one end of your personal chambers to the next.

Stupefied, you allow him to set you down.

The robe is displaced, unveiling your left shoulder, the swell of your breast; your damp legs shimmer as they too are revealed under a shaft of moonlight. Aemond does not move, for a time he just stares. You don’t know what to do under his scrutiny, but you don’t dare interrupt whatever it is he has lost himself in.

You’re on fire. A blazing inferno shaping sinew and bone into hollow ornaments. The sensation pours down your palette and solidifies, tension sprawling from your head to your chest, and coalacing at your center.

Whatever it is, the sensation is familiar. Pitted shame flocks to your sternum, corralling its everlasting tides to your person. It bridges your thighs together, a sweet strain despite your loathing towards it.

You know that if you were brave enough, you could discover exactly what it is you feel. What leaves you clenching around nothing, slick and buzzing.

Involuntarily, you do just as the mere image would dictate. Squeezing oneself shut tight around nothing, is for a lack of better words, abhorrent. Are you meant to yearn for more than…what is said you should want? You are not completely absolved of your education on your marital expectations.

What is meant to happen where you reside, lord husband only inches away—inches?

A breaths width away, Aemond pilfers the oxygen from your diaphragm when he cusps your chin in a vice. A whimper—no, not a whimper, not anything—your mouth outlines what you wish to make into reality, but no sound follows. You try again, urging some variable of sentiment to escape you. Whether it be a gasp or whine needn’t matter, only that it does.

For if this is what rendered you silent, this act of belligerence, would he not take it as exceptional? For as long as you have shared his name, he has not laid a hand on you, and has left you unharmed. You wish for that to remain unchanged, as hopeless as that might be. To remain intact, wherein your mother had been put to ruin, is heavy on your mind then.

Lord Ashford is a punitive man, and has an unrestrained endearment for discipline. His severe teachings have left their mark upon your skin, a reminder of what your mother had been forced to endure all her life. A life she never truly lived.

It feels wrong, the way you react to your husband, his mishandling of you. A voice, timorous, accuses you of being a traitor to your mother and what she had endured until death.

That does not ease the flare inside your chest, how it slithers up the back of your throat, let alone the way you lean into his clutch. Aemond hums, an all too common habit the Prince must have produced at a young age. One that always, without fail, disarms you.

It reverberates alongside your heartbeat, trembles under your loss of cohesion. You are silk to his steel, a petal to iron. Complaisant, tensile, submissive; at his mercy. That is what is coveted in a wife, is it not? What you were taught since girlhood.

Pallid lilac is swallowed whole by his pupil, onyx clouding the once vibrant Targaryen shade steadily. It’s saddening, tragic even, watching something so beautiful and rare fade away in real time.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you blink up at him from under your lashes. His leer traces your plush mouth, his tongue peeking out to wet his own as his thumb draws a harsh line from your chin to your lower lip. Once more, he cranes your head to his pleasure, and you are reminiscent of Alicents caution a last time.

“Kiss me.”

Please support your content creators! Any and all reblogs/comments are hugely appreciated!

Taglist: @ephemeralninon @ichanelvxgue @404slayer404 @themartiansdaughter @slimearchon @mirandastuckinthe80s @prettysadbabyy @skythighs @aisling1985 @gotjonsa1 @valerie977 @caribbeangal @sirenofavalon @iwontshutuptilltheyaddgeckoemoji @stardewbat

#house of the dragon #a song of ice and fir #hotd #asoiaf #hotd fic #asoiaf fic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x oc #house ashford

199 notes · View notes