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insufferablelust · 11 months ago

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Aemond claiming you as his 🔥 SMUT

RAVISH [BYKA ZALDRĪZES] Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen Reader

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Bind by her betrothal to the rider of Vhagar, the daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen meets Aemond Targaryen to find herself getting more than she ever expected.

Words counted: 6.9k (My sincerest apologies)

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Chocking, Claiming of maidenhood, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of blood (nothing graphic).

Hello! this is my first time posting my work for any HOTD characters, thank you to the anon who requested, and special thank you & dedication to Gabrielle my friend who helped me Beta this work❤️ My request is always open for HOTD characters. English is not my native language so bear with me. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

Rules to Request

You can feel the tightness of your evening attire wrapped around the slopes of your curves, with the long thick fabric that overlaps the bodice of your dress downwards. You stayed as still as you could when your ladies dressed you with much attentive eyes. Hands everywhere from the collar to the soles of your feet.

One of your ladies braid your silky silver hair loose but neatly, perfecting your looks for such occasions. One being the arrival of your uncle, the rider of the biggest dragon in all the realms, Aemond. You can feel the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage, albeit constricted by the tight layers of your attire, it does not deter your nervousness.

Not only is his arrival would have significance on the chess play of the throne of the dragons, but it would bear you consequences that you, in fact, are unable to escape this fate. The fate you have little to say against. The near last wish of the king to betroth you to unite the two sides of the Targaryen blood. Marriage of dragon and dragon, hoping to conceal the gaping wound left by Viserys decisions.

Neither your mother nor your father can truly save you now as you have made your decision to choose your destiny to try and serve the realm the only way you know how. The rising tension and possible bloodshed of cousins and nieces are no longer needed, you had hoped, if you agree to this arrangement. You have no other choice than to take his hand in marriage, even if it means that you have to sacrifice your own freedom and the ambiguous name of the true heir.

You have yet to set your feelings for the rider of Vhagar, he is not only an enigma to you but, more so, a mystery that you are both eager yet scared to fully unveil. There is a part of you know that there is a darkness that surrounds his being like no other, as your brothers have always told you. However, if you are to take his hand in marriage, you would have to force yourself to see the light in him, as you wished for the Seven to guide you in your unprecedented path.

“Princess, pardon me but Her Grace, Queen Alicent has requested your presence at the gate, for Prince Aemond’s arrival.”

At once your shoulder straightened as you breathe out a heavy sigh, pulled out of your heavy thoughts by one of the servants. You smiled, and replied with a gentle “Of course, Lyana. I am to be done and head there right away.”

Closing your eyes briefly, you gathered your thoughts, and silently prayed to not only the Seven but to all old Gods of Valyria to gain you strength and will to overcome this behemoth of a challenge that is to be bestowed upon you in a matter of minutes. Opening your eyes again, you begin to shuffle your way out of the mighty wooden door, and off to your journey just outside of the Red Keep, on the gates overlooking Rhaenys Hill.

You’re accompanied by the two of your ladies as well as your trusted guard as you make your way down the castle. You can see in the distance the few people including the Queen, that has already stood patiently waiting for Prince Aemond’s arrival. You blushed as the foot of your dress sweep gracefully onto the stones below, your heart raced with anticipation of meeting your soon-to-be husband.

“Your Grace.”

You curtsied as you approached Queen Alicent, a sign of greeting and respect you have for the mother of the alleged battling heir to the throne. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you smiled as she gently touches your arm. Her smile is soft, casted as genuine, however, you can clearly see the tightness in them.

Alicent has always spared you more content than to others directly of your mother’s blood, your obedience to the crown, realm, and dedication to the Seven, helped her to overcome the dreaded raging crossfire between the two apparent heirs. Your demur soft upbringing, contented her enough to welcome you in a hug, albeit fabricated with quarrel.

“Princess, it is a delight for all of us to be blessed by your presence, in honor of the Prince, of course.” She replied, your lips set into a thin smile, as you bowed your head to Princess Helaena. Unlike to her brothers or your step aunt’s entourages, you have a knit bond with Helaena, having to endure the chaos of the brooding conflict in the throne, you both shared the same wish to cultivate what was once a peaceful reign and put an end to the family’s misery. You watched attentively as she rubbed her swollen belly, knowing full well the usurper successor of your mother’s rightful throne cradled in the form of the babe inside her body. Your eyes fleetingly meet hers as you continued to smile.

“As it was a delight for me to procure your request of my presence, Your Grace. I am of honored to be here for the Prince’s arrival.”

Alicent patted your arm one more time before you both overlook the land of King’s Landing, with the view of the Narrow Sea dances in your eyes. You were always amazed by the beauty of the realm, the blue greyish skies are your scenery, especially when you have the opportunity to ride on your dragon’s back. Oh how you wished you could just fly away to Dragonstone right about now and see your family again. Alas that too is wishful thinking.

You were suddenly halted of your longing when the sound of the bellowing of mighty Vhagar came to light, your eyes drifted to the source of such powerful force, as the silhouette of one of the greatest beast come into view. You admired her majestic wings from afar, eyes squinted at her fierceness, biting through the wind and seamlessly breaking through the clouds. As the dragon got closer to the Hill of Rhaenys, just outside the Dragonpit, you could also make out the rider of said beast.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Even from miles away from the ground, one would not miss the way he fiercely ride the biggest dragon alive known in all seven realms, a dragon he conquered to be his own, the dragon that came to him not when he was born yet when he was in his biggest pit of despair. Vhagar’s bond with her rider is as strong as ever, just like when she roamed the skies with Queen Visenya Targaryen once during Aegon the Conquerer’s reign.

You could make out the shadow of his being as he landed on Rhaenys Hill ever so smoothly, dismounting from the beast before patting her and giving her to the dragon keepers. You hissed in pain as you finally realized that you have been clenching your hand too tightly in front of you.

“Seven heavens dear, are you alright?”

You can hear the soft gasps, and murmurs around you, noticing how you clutched your fingertips together. You have not noticed the entire time that you had been so nervous, it numbed the pain of your even dull fingernails on the palm of your dainty hands.

“Gods.” You exclaimed feeling your palm stings, Queen Alicent noticed the whole thing, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, so did Princess Helaena. “Princess, may I accompany back to the keep? so we can clean your hands” Said Haelena softly, in which you find yourself grateful for.

A nod and curtsy came from you as you lower your head in shame, “I apologize Your Grace, My Princess, for I have unable to assuage my pain. May I please be excused to clean up?” Your voice is in the teetering edge of whimper, eyes too humiliated to stare into Alicent or Helaena’s eyes. If you could summon your dragon here and then, you would and fly away with her so you don’t ever have to come back to Kings Landing but the luck of the Seven was never truly behind you since the start.

“Very well, Princess. Please see to it that the maester is make aware of her condition, and let her heal properly.” Alicent replied sternly, her voice laced with bitter shame covered with fantom worries, and she encouraged Helaena to accompany you, stressing that it would not be much fuss that neither of you would be there to greet the one eyed Prince.

You curtsied once more, before turning away from the looks of all the ladies and lords that have awaited for the Prince’s arrival. You tried to drawn out the murmurs in the background as your hem of your dress shuffled across the cobblestone, making your way back inside the keep.

Haelena was patient as she accompanied you to the Maester’s healing chamber, making small comments so that they are well aware of your little incident. The blush on your cheeks has yet to subside nor does the pounding in your chest. The bodice strangling you from the outside, as your own fear strangled you from within.

“Niece, however are you feeling? has the pain subsided?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft ringing of Helaena’s voice, your mind eased a little hearing her, she is a soothing presence in the midst of your confusion. You may live in King’s Landing, however your soul have always been with your family, home is wherever they were, and that was Dragonstone. How you so badly wanted to be there.

“No need to be worrisome, muñus. By the will of the gods, I shall be fine. It was just my foolish mistake. I should have been more careful.” Aunt.

The last words that left your mouth were that of a whimper, small plea you made to yourself. A plea that you knew would save yourself and possibly the realm had you not make the same reckless mistake over and over again. Helaena whom has been pestering over the healers, sit down besides you. She might be your aunt by bloodline, but she is also closer to your age, knows the burden you carry with the looming threat of the crack in the lair of the dragons.

“Dare I ask what is occupying your mind, dear?”

There is a tinge of pleasant playfulness in her voice that didn’t fail to make you tilt your head and chuckled. Sighing, “None of the matter, My Princess, it is merely a big day for us all.” You looked straight into her eyes as you replied, knowing full well she would understand what does big day entailed.

“Jorrāeliarzys, a fierce dragon such as yourself need not be worry of any apprehension.”

She clicked her tongue at you like a mother scolding their child, you feel comforted by the warmth she displayed to you knowing full well all of this heap was due to her own brother’s arrival upon the keep. Aegon himself has not been able to sleep peacefully since he catches the news of his brother’s wind in Kings Landing.

“Thank you, Helaena. I shall pray that the Prince arrives at the gates safely—“

Your moment was cut short however when you both heard the huge door opening, revealing the two guards that stood in front. Your breath hitched slightly, when you took upon notice the presence whom have entered the healing chambers.

“Brother, welcome.” You quickly took back your hand as soon as the maester was done wrapping it up in a soft silk cloth, concealing your earlier omission from him. Your eyes had not dared to look into his, instead focusing them on the ground beneath your feet as the brother and sister embraced each other in front of you.

Had you not looked away, you would have seen that Aemond’s eyes have certainly never wavered from your presence, his attention was on you as soon as he arrived to the gates. Blood boiling with fury as he had heard what had happened to you. It was supposed to be a happy day, at the very least for him, as it is the day he was going to set eyes again on you. His future wife. The queen to his soon to be realm, the one whom he will fight for.

His eyes has yet to set ashore from your slightly trembling body, it only darted towards your enclasped hands in front of you. “Do you wish to retire to your chambers? you have had a long day on Vhagar’s back.” You can hear Haelena’s voice ring, you wanted so much to greet him as you are accustomed to, however you found your lips to be very hesitant. No sound came out.

“I shall retire later, sister. I wish to see the princess first as I have been made aware of her conditions.”

The smooth sound of his thick voice caresses you softly, yet it leaves a rough grip on its awakening, just like dragon scales. You tilted your head slightly, finally looking at him as you have been sought after.

“My Prince.” Your voice finally escaped your lips, breathing a shaky breath as your eyes locked with his. “Welcome back, the keep has not been the same without your presence.” You smiled gently, lips pressed into a thin line— there is so much resistance coming from you and he knows it.

Aemond then stepped forward, standing in front of you. You felt his dominating figure as he towered over yours, making you swallow the bile in your throat. Your breath, however, hitched in your throat as he tenderly brings your hands upwards, bending over a little to place a lingering kiss atop of the cloth covered skin. “How severely does it hurt, My Princess?”

Shivers come washing down on you when you felt his lips ever so gently grazes your skin, even through the cloth you can feel his warm breath, his attentive touch and words releases a bit of pressure off your shoulders. But you must not let your guard down as you are still standing in front of a man that has caused way too many mishaps for your house. The threatening presence to the house destruction, yet, all of that just gravitated yourself closer to him.

“It barely hurts… All is well, My Prince—“ You replied eyes darting between his patchless eye, and to Helaena behind him whom watching this whole encounter with a smile, “I apologize to have caused you much trouble upon your arrival day, for I swear to the Seven, I did not mean it.”

You can hear Aemond clicks his tongue in front of you, clearly unamused to you apologizing for something that causes you terrible pain. After all you are to be his wife, he would always protect you even if it meant from your own self. “By all the realms, you have no need to apologize-“ He tilted his head in what you can only take as a menacing smug gesture with a grin.

“I’ll take your hand in marriage in less than a moon time, and soon your hand would cradle my babe, I am merely seeking to even give you a new hand, if My Princess ever so wishes for one. Hm, ñuhys jorrāeliarzy?” My beloved.

That pulled a hefty gasp out of you, your hands that were still in his grasp turned so cold. Although it is not a new matter that the King and Queen has betrothed you both, it still feels like you’re reverted to how you are a shy maiden, not nearly as experienced as he was in anything. You have your mother’s wit as well as fierceness, your father’s attitude yet you always find yourself in another dichotomy altogether where you’re more demure than those of your siblings characters, Jacaerys is a wise leader, so as your other brothers, you— you are something else. Never wish for any power yet contented to defending your own.

“I suppose so, My Prince. However you needn’t to worry. I shall be fine by the time moonlight arrives.” You replied with trying hard to keep up with his intense eye contact. It was difficult for you to not drown in his lilac eyes, his silver hair, perfectly sculpted jaw, and even more domineering stance. You have wished sometimes that the Gods would just damn you in the Grand Sept for your lewd thoughts.

“Very well, little dragon. I shall see you during supper tonight, for I can not wait to have a feast.” The last words may not he spoken loudly as his lips were truly beside your ears, however, you can hear it as it was meant to be heard by you only. Your cheeks could not contain the warmth that rises to its surface, only spreading further down your neck— flustered and hot everywhere when the back of his nimble fingers grazes your cheeks twice.

“Whatever do you mean by—“

“We shall meet again, Princess.” With a tentative smirk and a chuckle, he put down your hand and left as he was never there, with his own clasped behind his back striding out of the healing chambers. Your mouth still agape as to what he meant, your heart raced as your body burned with desire. You can only wish to be spared tonight, as you wanted to keep your virtue until you wed.

—

The gold ring glimmered under the light of fire within your chambers, you keep twirling your hand to get a glimpse of the engraved Valyrian words across the ring itself. Byka zaldrīzes. The writings wrote, there is a small ruby gem on the top, adorned with small scales to imitate that of your dragon’s— Silverwing. Aemond had given this to you few moons ago, when the Queen and small council have decided to betroth you both. It is “A token for our betrothal, to remind you that I have promised in the name of the Seven and all Gods to solely devote myself to you.” He had said. Little dragon.

Your heart fluttered at the thought, even when everyone deemed him the cold even sometimes heartless prince, he had shown you slivers of his tender nature. You of course knew of what transpired during his childhood, you knew of his torment, and his tormentors— you were there to witness by your ears, always trying to comfort him afterwards out of goodwill. The memory of it all remained fresh in your memories. After the death of your younger brother, Lucerys, both side of the throne were cold as ice, sharp as Blackfyre— alas you too would fly to Dragonstone if not for the binding vows of the betrothal your mother had arranged when you were a mere child.

You see, you were supposed to marry Aegon, the usurper soon to be king, however that came short when she decided to wed Aegon with Helaena instead, and reconcile the betrothal the deal, with binding you to Aemond, instead. At the time you knew the reason why she were to wed Aegon because Alicent disapprove of your twin brother Jacaerys for his lack of Valyrian blood, or so Alicent claimed.

You, however, was spared of the thoughts considering you were born with silver hair, striking that of your twin brother— mayhaps the reason why you were so fragile as a child, the Maester thought once that you could not have made it far to adulthood let alone reach your 15th name day. Your hand might be taken by a man you do not wish to wed out of loyalty to your mother but perhaps, unable to escape, this is the best possible outcome you could possibly get.

Letting out a sigh, you smoothen the red and gold dress you’re wearing, the sheer fabric on the sleeve of your arms are giving you room to breathe despite the tightness of your attire. Few strands of your silver locks tied in a braid behind your head, whilst the rest flowed down your shoulders freely. The most beautiful maiden in the realm, the ladies often said. You admired yourself in the mirror, before hearing the door knock.

“Forgive me, Princess, but Her Grace, the Princes, and Princess have all waited for you in the dining hall.”

“Thank you, Lyana. I shall depart right away.”

Taking a deep breath, you shuffled your way out your chambers and into the dining hall. Two guards were stationed in front of the giant door, you nodded your head before they opened it. Taking a sight to your views, you can see the familiar faces of the Queen, your uncles and aunt. It seem that there is only five of you present, with one babe cradled inside Helaena.

“Your Grace, My Princes, and Princess.” You curtsied and bow your head before making your way inside. You locked eyes with that of Aemond’s, his lips curled into a grin as he set eyes on your beauty, before settling on the ring adorning your finger. You can also feel the heated gaze of Aegon interlocking between you and Aemond, Gods, you hope there will be no quarrel tonight between the two.

“Niece, it is a pleasure to be graced by your company again.” Came the voice of Prince Aegon with a smirk, already looking halfway intoxicated by the wine perched on his silver glass. “As it is mine, Your Highness.” you sat down on the chair, smiling at your hosts. “For I can see that my brother is assured to be… joyous.” Aegon chirped, you didn’t miss the glares Aemond threw his way.

“Has the remedy by the Maester treat your hand well, Princess?” Helaena asked you before giving his brother a chance to refute, you were thankful for her quick response. Darting to your palm, recognizing the piece of cloth it is still wrapped in. Trying not to grimace of your earlier humiliation, you just nodded your head, “Yes Princess, I cannot seldom express more of my gratitude for your kindness. It is treating very well.”

“That is a very good news indeed, now we shall feast on the supper.” Queen Alicent smiled at you, looking as uncomfortable with the brooding tension of her own sons— gesturing to the table in front of you. “How was the trip, Prince Aemond?” You tenderly tried to slice yourself a piece of roasted duck, only to hiss with the ever looming pain, sighing, you heard a click of the tongue belonging to none other than your betrothed.

“Allow me, niece.” Aemond voice cut through the silence as he offered to slice your meal for you. Warmth feels your cheeks once more as you pass your knife to him so he can cut it.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“It was pleasant enough, Vhagar was restless as she had to fly during a hailstorm, however, the journey felt too long knowing what awaits me in King’s Landing.”

The implication of his words made you look around, seeing his brother, the very man that threatens your mother’s throne snickered and with a huge grin adorning his face.

“My my, you have grown, brother, I did not know you could be so… feeble.” He swings his now empty cup so the servants can pour more wine inside. You inhaled sharply at his comment, knowing what awaits.

Shocks were thrown around the room as suddenly, the knife in the hand of your betrothed—belonging to you, are raised upon the soon to be Usurper’s King direction.

“I can and will have your tongue for that.” The air around you is thick with tension, “Aemond!” his mother gasped, a rivalry of heir successors that you have rarely seen in Dragonstone between your siblings, yet appear to be so common now in the grand pillars of the Keep.

“Enough—“

“You could do well try, if you can get past my guards, weakling.”

“Still hiding behind your guards? you are no man, merely a boy sent to be a fake king.” Aemond jabs, standing at his full height now— knife right against his brother’s neck. The clanking sound of the knight’s armor can be heard.

“and I still fuck my whores better than you do, brother.”

Next thing you heard was the loud banging of your knife on Aemond’s hands carved deep inside the table, he had stood up in a rage of fury, if looks could kill, Aegon Targaryen would be 12 feet under by now.

“I said enough!” You have in rare occasions see Queen Alicent be this mad even when her sons drove her crazy, let alone hear her voice this loud. The staring feast between Aegon and Aemond lasted even after the Queen told them to cut it off, looking at Helaena whom seem to be uncomfortable by the situation, you clear your throat and placed a soft hand gently on the back of Aemond’s shoulder.

“My Prince, perhaps I can show you, around the Keep? it has been long after all since you last set foot here.” You tried to keep yourself composed.

You carefully thread your words so neither brothers or queen for that matter, would raise the growing tension ever more. You bravely looked towards Aemond’s piercing stare at his drunken brother. A pregnant pause followed suit, before Aemond let out a scoff and turned around.

The screeching sound of his chair was loud in the silence that cut through the hall, he began walking away as you threw a curtsy before the Queen, and scurried after him outside the hall.

“Prince Aemond, please wait.” You tug the midway of your silk dress so you can follow his pace but he walked with as much rage as he did before. Slender and tall figure scurrying away. Hearing no reply coming from him, you let out a sound akin to a desperate whine.

“Dear will you please— Ah!”

You suddenly feel your back pressed against one of the walls inside the small hall not far from where the bed chambers were located. The walls felt cold to your back, your breathing was loud, so was his. Only then you registered that one of his hands were on your neck, wrapped around your delicate throat with enough pressure to block out some of the air when you inhale. The necklace given by your mother digging through your neck.

“You are quite the woman now, aren’t you, niece?” a teasing chuckle came soon after, “I am intrigued on how you have kept your innocence for all the time I have been gone, hm?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“W-what does that entail, Aemond?” your lips trembled when you speak of his name, you can feel his knees pressed to open the gap between your thighs— causing you to gasp and widen your soft lilac eyes.

“Still remains a maiden, Princess?” Aemond tilt his head, smiling throughout.

“I— of- of course, what are you so boldly implying?” You were taken aback by his implications, the stinging tears on your eyes are threatening to fall down along with the hoarseness of your voice.

“lykirī, issa jorrāeliarzys—“ scoffing in amusement, “I merely wanted to know how hard I can fuck you tonight.” You tried to wiggle away from his hold against your neck only for him to, once more, clicked his tongue at you as if you’re a disobedient child, and put his other hand on your waist to steady you against the wall— leaving no space to go. Calm, my love.

“ah ah, do not make a fuss now, sweet one. wouldn’t want to alert the whole castle on the doings of their virtuous Princess, now would we?”

You can feel his nimble fingers caresses the exposed skin of your hunched dress, the silk making way for his touches to graze yours ever so tantalizingly. “I have dreamed of this, —of you like this.” He muttered, “each time you soothed me after your cunt of brothers disrespected me.” you were still much shocked and flustered at his ministrations. Lips moving down to capture your neck, slowly moving down to the column of your now exposed throat.

“Aemond— not here…”

“Hush, dove. Now that you will soon be my wife, I shall have you whenever, wherever, and however I desire to.” His words are muttered against your skin, drawing soft breathy whines from you.

“Aemond, we should n-not… Please…” You tried to reason with him, even when your hips grinds against his pants covered knees— still nudged in the slope of your inner thighs. You felt your clothed bundle of pleasure rubbed ever so slightly against him when he further raised his knee against you. Making you whine in delight and frustration. “Gods! mmh, aem!”

“Seems to me that you wanted this as much as I do, little one.” He teased as he continues his quest, deep kisses left in his wake, “I shall claim you how I see fit, wouldn’t you say so, princess?”

You tried to answer him but only mewls and whimpers escaped out your lips as you continued to grind against his knees, meeting his now fasten pace, and the kisses on the sensitive spot on your neck just below your jaw is making you high. Gods, it feels like you’re set ablaze by thousands of dragon fire.

“Asked you a question, niece.”

“Yes! Gods yes! take me however you desire.” Your resolve has been breached once and for all, for you can not escape how intoxicating his touches are. You have been to wound up with all the realm duties, indulgence is not one for the Princess, however your desire is far too strong to resist your soon-to-be husband.

“You may not be a whore from the common streets, but you are my own, byka zaldrīzes.” Little dragon. “You will know how wrong my brother was after I fucked you.”

“and I still fuck my whores better than you do, brother.” The words exchanged by Aegon now rings on your ear.

Wanton moans escaped your lips as he continued his assault on your neck, he bent down a little to access the hem of your embroidery to push it down— you whined at the loss of his knee on your soaked cunt, “Why’d you st— oh gods!” you threw your head back against the wall at the feeling of his warm lips engulfing your now hardened buds.

“Patience.”

He muttered sharply before suckling on your teats, nipples darkened with blood rushing to them— all plump and Aemond salivated to the thought of them filling up when you, one day, will bear his child—children. “Cannot wait to fill you up, watch you swell with my babe.” He groaned, switching from one buds to the other— left you panting.

“Ah mm! can’t wait— oh! to carry your heir, my Prince…”

Whilst his mouth is preoccupied by your left nipple, his fingers are tweaking your other one, pulling and twisting— making you writhe in pleasure, you are sure that your small garment is soaked by now.

“You will never be able to escape me in our marit—“

You both were pulled from your pool of lust and pleasure when you heard the clanking noises of a knight’s armor rounding the corners of the Red Keep. Your eyes wide as you tried your best to push Aemond away only for him to raised an eyebrow and covered your mouth with his hand.

“Shh, do not make a sound, little one.”

You were about to protest when you felt his other hand trailing up your haunched hem, his feet parting your lets.

“nnh—“ you tried to speak against his hand, but he just let out a scoff and pushed you impossibly deeper to the wall.

“Rȳbās.” Obey.

Pleasure overtook you as Aemond’s fingers pushed aside your garment, fingers came in contact with the flushed slick soaked flesh of your needy cunt. “you are enjoying this.” He shake his head with so much amusement to his gleaming eyes and smirking lips—voice just above a whisper to make sure no one heard him, but if you have to guess, he wouldn’t care if someone catches you anyways.

“Here I though my little Princess is a pious woman, and here she is, with a dripping cunt begging me to fuck her.”

You heard the clanking sound moving away, noises slowly disappearing into the cold night. “I’d rather say you have been wanting me to do this, is that what you mean by showing me around?” He chuckled deeply, feeling your already flustered face, heated more.

You gasped a breath of relief when his hand unclasped your mouth, “N-no. I truly wanted to—“

“No need to lie, zaldrītsos. Your cunt tells me enough.” with that he gave your pearl of pleasure a slap, you jolted with a loud whine “Aemond, fuck!” Little dragon.

Your pleasure was short lived, however, when he wrapped his arm below your knees before pulling you up his shoulder. Hauled you up before strolling down the hall to where the royal apartment quarters sits.

“Put me down, Aemond!”

“Quiet.”

He playfully patted your arse as he make his way to what you presume to be his chamber. You did not get a good look if there were guards stationed outside, as you thought they would be— he is the prince after all, it’s not like he could care less.

Aemond slam the door shut, before he puts you down and you catch your breath.

“Aemond, what was th—mmmh!”

Your complaints were cut short when he pressed his lips against yours in a passionate manner, lips engulfing your own, as his tongue breached past to enter your hot cavern. His free hand move up to grasp your hair in a tight knot as he slowly move you back towards his bed, the back of your thighs hitting the edge.

His tongue continued to explore yours as his hands roam over your body, from your sensitive jugular to your taut breasts, belly and the conjuncture of your thighs. You let out a gasp of relief and shock as he pushed you to the bed.

Aemond wasted to time to flip you over and manhandled you so that you’re face down on the bed, your back in a perfect arch, silver locks flows beautifully— your arse is up in the air, whilst your feet dangled from the edge. Having ripped your evening attire off, you’re left bare. Cunt exposed. Needy, soaked, and desperate for his attention.

“Kostilus…” your begs are mere muffled mewls by now as he stood to admire your beauty. Gods. He has waited for this for a long time. Your betrothal might just be the cure to his raging agony. Please.

You heard a thud—“Oh Gods!” throwing your head back, as his cold fingers gathered your slick and run them along your folds, gently at first. You turn your head slightly to see him only to had your moans halted.

It’s Aemond, but he no longer wears his eye-patch. His sapphire gem shone bright under the moonlight that seeped through the night sky of King’s Landing. His soft lilac eyes gleamed too. You’re enthralled by his beauty, every marks and turns.

“My, my… you’re drenched. Desperate, aren’t we?” He scoffed at your agape mouth, feeling his 2 of his fingers entering your cunt with vigor, you closed your eyes tightly as you clench on him in instinct. “Ah ah, none of that, open them now, dove.”

Your eyes fluttered open as he commanded, “Look at me, Princess—“ you did with your eyes droopy and sinful lips parted in shallow breaths, “In less than a moon time, you shall find yourself in this situation, each night in our marital bed, ñuhys ābrazȳrys.” it delighted you, and heated the fire in your core to hear his devotion. My wife.

“Y-yes husband.”

Aemond groaned as he sped up his fingers, squelching noises now aloud bouncing off the walls, “Say it again for me.”

“ahh.. mmh! fuck— I am yours, husband, I promise by the Seven!” His fingers grazed your most sensitive spot, as his palm graze your pearl.

“After I claim you, I’d have anyone’s heads that dared to look at you as I do.” The silken sheets beneath your fingers now creased as you keep on clenching them, “Not that they will ever try, not after you begin to swell.” you arched your back with your toes curled, building release arose inside your belly, “with my seed, my babe, my heir.”

“fuck yes! yes yes! as many as you wish.. please, Aemond!”

“Come for me, little one. I’ll fill you up afterwards.” His free hand tangled itself on your silver locks to yank it back, your body shaking with your high so close, eyes teary with your lips wet, raw, and bitten. Truly a sight reserved only for the Gods.

One more brush of his palm against your pearl simultaneously with his fingers abusing your core, all of it was too much as you let out a silent scream, you came on his fingers.

“Good lord! Aemond…”

“Fuck, princess…” His fingers does not let up, however, and continues its assault inside your now gushing cunt. “You are Gods sent.” He whispered before pulling his fingers out slowly, watching you thrash on the bed, licking his fingers afterward.

“Beats the sweetest Westerosi wines.”

You have no more strength to reply as your legs felt like jelly, however the heat in your cheeks and race of your heart never cease, your eyes blink slowly when you heard the soft clad of his tunic, then followed by his cloth pants fell down the floor.

“Ae—mmh!” Toes curling at the feeling of the flushed hard tip of his cock gliding over your now oversensitive folds, “Ready, little dragon?” he teases the entrance of your weeping cunt as you whined,

“Just put it in— Oh!”

“You—fuck! you are greedy for a maiden.” He slowly thrust his tip inside you making you wince at the intrusion. “Aemond… it hurts…” you closed your eyes briefly for Aemond’s length is not to be messed with… long, width as thick, and curved on the tip. You wish you have more time in the future to admire him fully. “Shh shh, the pain will subside soon, little one, stay with me.”

To ease the pain, his fingers once again found haven on your clit, softly pressing as you jolt in overstimulation, “Mmnh.. please…” your body is writhing in both pain and pleasure, “Hells, you’re so tight.” He grunted, pushing inch by inch as your cunt accommodates his size, before pushing it in one thrust.

Your back arched deeply as your mouth agape, loud mewls and moans escapes them on a rapid rate, as you sure the guards will be able to hear by now. His free hand let go of your hand and move to place them on the slope of your hips before moving to pull almost every inch of his length, then slams it back down to the hilt.

“You f-fill me up so much, my prince.” Moans are now freely came out of your lips, as he continued his unrelenting pace, thrusts that are deep as well as it is hard, giving you no chance to catch your breath. You felt like you are flying with your dragon, its that high pleasure that are like no other. “and I shall do— fuck, again and again to ensure my seeds take.”

Though composed, you can hear his breathing shallower than usual, his thrusts are erratic yet remains a choking pace on you. Your fingers grasp the sheets so tightly, you’d have no excuse if the maids found it shred the next day. “My prince—“

“Close?” he can feel your cunt tightening, and holding a vice grip to his cock, the clench made him lose his mind. Gods, he’d stay inside of you all day if you let him, “I’d rather spend my life inside you than to deal with my cunt of a brother.”

“and… and i’d let you.” your voice are jagged, as your body thrown forward and backward following his pace, cock filling your walls— you can feel every vein and ridge, making their indents known to claim you. “What an obedient little wife you’d be.” he muttered with vigor, his hips never relenting to stop, always reaching your spot.

“Only for you, my—oh! my prince!” your peak is nearing, you can feel it so does he, fastening the fingers on your clit, “Come for me, little one. Do it.” He encouraged you, he leaned down and kissed your shoulder tenderly, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Av— aaah oh gods!” you threw your head back, back arching and, “Aemond!” you peak, coming from him harder than the last, body slumping to the sheets as your high took over. “Please… please, fill me up. put your h—heir inside of me.” You begged with the last ounce of your strength.

Your cunt clenching on his length so tight that he is so close to reaching his own release, “Gonna put a babe in you, gonna— fuck! watch you swell over and over again.” He groaned loudly, feeling himself getting lost on you, in you.

“Avy jorrālean.” You half whine and whispered, “fuck!” Aemond releases inside you, coming with his seed pumping you full, whispering your name over and over again, against the skin of your neck. I love you.

You both panted, he held your now full belly in his palm before sliding out of you gently— his actions so soft and light, a striking contrast to his earlier ministration. “Oh.. Princess..” He cooed tenderly at you when he flipped you over and look to where you’ve separated, eyes focusing on your mixed fluids. “stop looking its—“

“Ah ah, shush, little dragon. let me take care of you.” He kissed your lips once more before placing a soft pillow beneath your head.

There and then you knew that you might not marry the kindest man, nor the man you dream of in all seven realms, however, you knew in your lonely despair, being wed to Aemond would satisfy your affections. Soon thereafter, you marry and in less than a moon time your belly began to swell, and you can only wish to raise the babe with your husband in a safe unbroken house.

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sitepathos · 9 months ago

Text

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 5: The Departure (Warning: this chapter will contain violence. Read at your own risk.)

It’s been around two months since you accepted the Megamycete into your body and for the first time since you were dragged to Gotham, you’re actually happy. With its vast archives, you’re bursting with knowledge spanning over the course of four-hundred years, ranging from the academic to the arts and it’s thanks to that knowledge that your grades have skyrocketed in the past few weeks; where once you struggled with something, now you know better than even the teachers, even correcting them when they make a mistake and outpacing the best students in your class. Sure, by this time, it’s a little too late to get to the top of your class, but you really don’t care about your ranking; all that matters is being able to complete your homework, class assignments, and tests in record time, giving you time to work on more important things, like your game.

Included in the Megamycete’s records are the knowledge and memories of many computer programmers, some of them working for Bruce in his tech division; you also have many artists and musicians swimming in your head, many of them talented in making art on computers, so with your newfound knowledge, you’ve made tremendous strides in making your game. A year ago, you thought you would have to find a way to crowdfund the game in order to pay artists, musicians, and programmers and it would take a few years to make it ready for players, but now, you’re sure you can have this game ready by yourself within the year.

Not only has your intellectual attributes increased, but so have your physical abilities; the Megamycete’s records also include many athletes, both professional and student, and you know how to play every sport that’s ever been played in Gotham, but you haven’t shown any improvement in gym class. You never had any interest in sports before and you sure as hell don’t know. Plus, if you suddenly start showing everyone in the school that you’ve all of a sudden become smarter and stronger out of nowhere, you might attract enough attention that not even the Waynes can ignore.

And that won’t end well for anyone.

Speaking of them, you know they heard about what happened at the My Alibi bar and are working overtime to find the culprit, the only thing they know for certain is that it was the work of someone new. It actually brought a smile to your face when you learned about it, that for all their detective skills, they have no idea that the person they’re hunting for is under their own roof. While Damian is the only one to have ever told you to your face, you know they all think you’re stupid; that because you chose to deal with your fucked up life in a semi-healthy way and not dress up in some stupid little costume and fistfight psychopaths, that must mean there’s something wrong with you in the head.

Fuck all of them. You don’t need them and tomorrow night, you’ll be driving back to Goodsprings.

When you turned eighteen, you inherited all of your Momma’s assets, namely her life insurance policy, bank accounts, and royalties from all her books, all of which was worth a little over two-million; at first, you were going to save that money for when you moved back to Goodsprings in case you had to fix up your old home and pay the bills, but after almost dying due to relying on bus stops and bumming rides off of Alfred was unfair to the man, you decided to take some of the money and invest it in a car. The Megamycete had absorbed many modern car experts, so you were able to pick out a brand new car that was worth the hit to your wallet.

Plus, you had a way of earning a pretty penny and stick it to Bruce at the same time: sell his proprietary technology to Lex Corp. Many of Bruce’s employees are buried in Gotham’s cemeteries, some of them working on the latest technological breakthrough at the time of their deaths and you knew Bruce’s biggest business rival would kill to see what Bruce’s scientists are cooking up in their lab.

You reached out to the man using your computer knowledge to send him an email that couldn’t be traced back to you, stating you had the specs for several of Wayne Enterprises’ latest large scale projects and asked him if he was interested in buying them for a couple million in cash. Knowing he’d never consider the deal without some proof, you included bits and pieces of what you were offering, just enough to show you were legit, but not enough to be useful without the rest of it.

Sure enough, he took the hit and now, here you are, meeting with the most powerful man in Metropolis in his office, which overlooks the entire city. Of course, you’re smart enough to not show him your face, so you took the form of some Joe Schmo that died years ago.

“I don’t believe it,” the man exclaims as he sifts through the papers you drew the designs on. “Medicine, experimental aircraft specs, software designs! Over a million spent in corporate espionage and nothing to show for it. Then you come along, offering more than enough to recoup those losses and then some.” He looks back at you, an ominous twinkle in his eye that makes you shiver. “Any chance I can rely on your services in the future?”

“Perhaps,” you say in your disguised voice. “If I get my hands on more WE secrets, I’ll keep you in mind. Now, about my money?”

“Of course,” he purrs. He snaps at his assistant, who places the briefcase she was holding on his desk and opens it, revealing more money than you’ve ever seen in your entire life. “Twenty million in unmarked bills. I trust that’s more than enough?”

“Yes,” you say, trying to hide your shock from earning enough money to last you the rest of your life in just a few seconds. “I believe it is.”

(We see no signs of sabotage or subterfuge,) the Megamycete says. (It would appear Luthor intends to keep his word. For once.)

“Mercy will see you out,” Lex says as you take the briefcase. He then holds out a business card. “And this is my personal number and email. If you have more secrets you’re looking to sell, call me day or night.”

“Thank you,” you say as you pocket the card.

And with that, you follow the assistant out of Lex’s office and down to the lobby.

(You must be happy to have amassed such a fortune,) the Megamycete states as you walk out the front door. (And exacting revenge on Bruce Wayne makes this moment all the better.)

“You’re damn right,” you respond with a chuckle.

(Perhaps you could use some of that money to enjoy yourself? Since our joining, you have been hard at work with your education or your project. Taking some time to have fun will do you a world of good.)

Its words resonate with you. Sure, you’ve been busy with catching up on school and the gaps in your game, but you’ve done some fun things the last few weeks, right?

(No, we are afraid you have not.)

“Damn,” you mutter. “Guess I should change that.” You glance down at the briefcase in your hand. “Well, we have twenty mil of Lex’s money in here. How about have a night out in Gotham?”

(We agree wholeheartedly,” it exclaims, its voice full of joy and anticipation. (We look forward to seeing what you have planned.)

You chuckle as you change your form to your hardened mold armor and wings and take flight into Metropolis’ night sky. Fortunately for you, it’s a quiet night in the massive city, so Superman isn’t flying around, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into the Man of Steel.

“I gotta say, this city looks a helluva lot better than Gotham,” you remark as you soar above the skyscrapers. “Gotham looks like a giant tomb while Metropolis looks like the future.”

(Yes, we have noticed that no matter the era, the architecture of Gotham refuses to change. The city seems to be doomed to remain locked in a by-gone age. We look forward to seeing the world beyond.)

“You’ll love Goodsprings. Sure, it’s the size of a stamp compared to a behemoth like Gotham, but you can actually sit on your porch at night and not have to worry about gunshots or escaped lunatics. People actually have conversations with one another instead of telling you to fuck off.”

In a less than thirty minutes, you arrive back at Gotham and land on the roof of Wayne Manor and quietly sneak in. Joker’s still on the loose, no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to unveil his latest sick and twisted plan, so everyone’s out and Alfred’s stuck in the Batcave, keeping an eye on camera feeds.

You take out a few bills from the briefcase before hiding it under your mattress and heading out to the back where you keep your car parked. While Bruce has multiple cars, every single one of them is a high-end luxury car that costs way more than yours, so you didn’t want to take the risk of Bruce or the others finding it and doing something to it, so you keep your car behind a large barn that’s used to hold all the groundskeeping equipment.

As you drive off the property, you tell your phone to dial Alfred, who answers it halfway through the first ring.

“Master Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Alfred, everything’s fine. I was just letting you know that I’m going out for a bit. Thought some time outside the house would do me some good.”

“While I agree that you need to get more, perhaps tonight isn’t the best time,” he says hesitantly. “I mean, the Joker is still out there, no doubt planning another heinous act.”

You’re touched by the man’s concern for you. Really, you are. But, with the Megamycete, you have nothing to fear.

“Don’t worry, Alfred, I’ll be fine.,” you reassure him. “I promise I won’t be gone too long. I’ll just be in Amusement Mile for an hour or two.”

“Still, I wish you weren’t going by yourself. Perhaps I can get one of your siblings—“

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m going out to have fun before I graduate, not be miserable. If I wanted to be tortured, I’d throw myself in Arkham’s Intensive Care Building.”

“I know why you feel that way, Master Y/N, but maybe you can give them another chance? You’ll be graduating tomorrow night and leaving after the ceremony. I just don’t want you leaving us under such bad circumstances.”

You know the man’s been trying to get the Waynes to notice you, but they’re all busy with their own lives in addition to being vigilantes at night, either fighting crime in Gotham, Blüdhaven, or elsewhere around the world. And when they’re all home, they’re spending time together, having fun that was never meant to include you. You learned that after countless times coming downstairs and seeing them, eating delicious food, laughing, watching movies, and enjoying themselves without you. After a while, you stopped going downstairs when you heard noises coming from the living room.

You don’t belong here, either in the Wayne Family or in Gotham. You never did. You know it, they know it, and deep down, Alfred knows it, whether he wants to admit it or not. You’re a Gould, not a Wayne and there’s nothing that’s going to change that.

“Alfred, I think the ship for us being a ‘happy, loving family’ sailed long time ago. They’ve made it clear that there’s no room for me in their world and I sure as hell don’t want them in mine. All I want to do is go home.”

“I understand,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “I hope you have fun, Master Y/N. And please, if you get into trouble, call me straight away.”

“I will, Alfred. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, you hang up.

You let out a sigh when the line goes dead. You hated saying things like that to the poor man, but it’s how you feel about the Waynes. Ever since you moved in, all you heard about Bruce is that he’s a caring man and a loving father, but that care and love only appears to be for those he deems worthy of it. For someone like you, a bastard born from a careless one-night stand, he has nothing but neglect and indifference.

And the same goes for the others. They’re all a dysfunctional hodgepodge that are saturated with so much trauma and paranoia that it’s a miracle that they haven’t killed each other yet. You’re sure if they were locked up in Arkham and studied, they could fill an entire library’s worth of psychological textbooks.

(You should not concern yourself with them. They have made it clear that they are not worthy of your love or forgiveness. After so many years of suffering, you are so close to breaking free from your prison. By this time tomorrow, you will be back where you belong.)

“Yeah, back home. Finally.”

After thirty grueling minutes of dealing with Gotham’s traffic, you finally reach your destination: Bat Burger. As much as you hate any mention of Batman, Gotham’s cashed in on the “Bat Craze” and inserts him into anything they can. At least the food’s good; almost good enough to make you ignore the cartoonish Batfamily designs on all the walls. Emphasis on the almost.

“Welcome to Bat Burger,” the teenage cashier, dressed in a uniform designed around Batman, says in a monotone voice as you approach the counter. A brief look in his eyes tells you he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “How can I bring justice to your hunger today?”

“Can I get a Batburger with ketchup, large fries, and a large Bat Cola?”

“Do you want to Jokerize those fries,” he asks as he types in your order.

“No thanks.” You hand him a hundred dollar bill. “I don’t need the change. Keep it as a tip.”

“Oh,” he exclaims, the dead look in his eye gone, replaced by shock. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you respond, happy to see such a transformation in the teen.

“Thank you,” he stutters as he hands you your cup for your drink. “Your food’ll be out in a minute. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You nod as you take the cup to the drink station.

(That was quite charitable of you,) the Megamycete remarks as you fill up your cup. (Such an action is rare in this city.)

“He looked like he needed it. I know what it’s like to be that miserable. Plus, it’s not like we’re hurting for money. If I ever run low, I still have plenty of Bruce’s secrets I can sell to Lex for a couple million.”

(Indeed. It would appear he had many of his employees working on secret projects that were not meant to be released. Perhaps such things were only meant for his nightly activities?)

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” you say as you sit down. “Kinda surprised no one’s figured it out. Batman’s toys look expensive and there’s not that many people in Gotham that could foot a bill that big other than Bruce Wayne.”

Not long after that, your order was called and you collected your fast food goodness. You practically moan as you take your first bite.

(This is quite appealing,) it says as you take another bite. (Savoring the food in real time is far batter than savoring it from the memories of the deceased.)

“I’ve wanted to come here for a while,” you say as you take a few fries. “Always saw the garbage cans full of Batburger bags when they came back from patrol. They never offered to take me and I never asked.”

(Their loss, we assure you. We can think of no better meal companion.)

“Shucks,” you chuckle. “You’re making me blush.”

After your meal, you decided to go to the arcade a few blocks away from the restaurant, eager to show the Megamycete all your favorite games. Also, with it behind you, you might be able to earn more tickets and win some of the bigger prizes. Your stride’s broken when you hear screaming, gunfire, and people running from the Gotham Arcade.

“What’s going on,” you ask a man as he tries to run past you.

“It’s Joker,” he exclaims, his eyes full of fear. “He’s shooting up the place!”

He runs away as you duck into an alley and call upon the mold to form the armor you’ve been using a lot lately. As you walk towards the arcade, you look through the roots and see the Bats scattered across the city, handling other crises; meaning they wouldn’t be here anytime soon.

“Guess it’s up to us to save the day.”

(The Clown has added many into our archives, all of whom spent their last moments of life terrified and in pain. We think it is time he knows fear.)

You walk into the arcade and are greeted by with over a dozen bodies, all of them riddled with bullet holes.

“My god,” you say, stepping over two teen boys who look like brothers. “There wasn’t a point to this. This is an arcade, not a bank. He just did this because he could.”

You follow the sound of gunfire until you see the Joker, dressed in his signature purple suit, shooting at a bunch of arcade cabinets.

“This is so much fun,” he exclaims as he rips a bunch of tickets from the machines. “Don’t you agree, Harley?”

“Sure do, Mistah J,” his partner, clad in her usual red and black spandex and jester hat, answers as she slams her giant mallet down on a poor Whack-A-Mole machine. She bends down and rips out a bunch of tickets from the smoking husk and holds it up to Joker like some offering to an ancient god. “Look, Puddin’, I won so many tickets!”

It’s then the two lunatics notice your presence.

“Well, well, well,” Joker says as he pockets his ill-gotten tickets. “Not the costumed freak I was expecting.” He holds his hands up to his head. “You’re missing the ears and everything.”

The two laugh and you roll your eyes under your mask.

“Looks like Ol’ Batsy has a new brat in his nest,” she jokes. “So, who’re you?”

“Oh, Harley, his name doesn’t matter.” He pulls out his gun and points it at you. “He’ll just be another corpse.”

He fires the gun and this time, the bullet actually penetrates your armor and pierces your lower torso. You wince at the feeling of a bullet in your gut.

(It would appear the clown uses a higher caliber than the common scum of Gotham,) the Megamycete explains as it heals your body, stitching the wound closed and hardening your armor to repel the stronger bullets. (Funny how he possesses such toys after being in Arkham for so long.)

“Oh, you’re a tough one, aren’t you,” he says, seeing that you’re not going down. “Normally, his little birdies go down from just a little love tap. Are you sure you belong to Batman?”

Now that pisses you off. Bruce may have had a hand in bringing you into the world, but you’re not his. You’re so pissed, in fact, that you raise your right arm and call upon a long tendril that pierces the center of the clown’s chest and pull him towards you.

“Mistah J,” Harley shouts in fear as you bring Joker to your face. She’s obviously paralyzed by fear because she stands there, doing nothing but watching the scene unfold before her.

His pasty white chin is covered in blood as it pours from his mouth and his eyes are wide as saucers.

“Now ain’t that a surprise,” he says with a chuckle, causing him to cough up blood.

“Get this through your sick and twisted head, clown,” you hiss. “I’m not Batman’s anything. There’s no words in any language that can express how much I hate him.”

You twist the tendril and take pleasure in watching him wince in pain.

(He fears you more than the Bat right now. Good. You are far superior than that worm and his collection of misfits. You always were.)

You feel yourself grin at that. You are better than them, aren’t you?

“And as much as I hate to admit it, Jason was right on how to deal with you. When you have a tumor, you don’t dress up in some stupid costume and beat it until it stops being a tumor.” You lift him far above, his head almost touching the ceiling. He flails around, but your tendril holds him in place. “You take a knife and cut it out.”

And with that, your tendril sprouts dozens of smaller ones that burst through his body, rendering it full of holes that it looks like a blood soaked piece of Swiss cheese. Said tendrils twist around until what was once the Joker is reduced to chunks of meat.

“Mister J,” Harley shouts, her voice full of agony, as his remains fall to the floor, landing with a wet splat. She looks at the pile of flesh, tears streaming from her eyes before turning to you, her gaze full of hate. “You bastard!”

She charges at you, her mallet raised and ready to strike, but you wrap her in your tendril, stopping her advance and making her drop her weapon. She struggles and as she does, she lets out loud sobs; ones were intimately familiar with. You let out similar ones when you lost your Momma and over the years you’ve spent in Wayne Manor.

“You killed my Puddin’,” she weeps. “When Bats hears about this, he’ll hunt you down like a damn animal! And when you’re thrown in Arkham, I’ll be waiting for ya!”

(She has a point. Batman and his flock are already looking for you and when they learn you have killed the clown, they will make finding you their top priority; they will marshal every resource at their disposal to finding your identity. Even if she cannot provide them with your identity, she presents a risk to our secrecy.)

You ponder on this as you watch Harley struggle against her bindings, her sobs now filling the arcade. You know the Megamycete is right; she’s a loose end you can’t afford, especially when you’re so close to going home. Plus, you know with Joker gone, Harley has no one to control her and with how racked with grief over the loss of her “love,” she’s a huge risk to everyone on Gotham.

You decide the risks are too great and command a smaller tendril to emerge from the one holding Harley, have it wrap itself around her neck, and quickly snap it, the noise it makes ringing in your ears like a gunshot. You release her from your grip and she tumbles to the floor, lifeless.

(It had to be done,) it assures you. (She represented a threat not just to you, but to the rest of the city. There is no telling how many people would have been hurt the next time she broke free from the asylum’s confines. Plus, the influence of the clown would have stayed with her, even after his death. She would most likely never have returned to what she once was. The rest of her life would have been spent mourning over the clown, inflicting pain onto the innocent, and escaping from and being returned to the asylum. You showed her mercy.)

You hear the words and in some way, they make sense, but right now, you don’t feel like you showed mercy. You’ve heard of the Tragedy of Doctor Harleen Quinzel, everyone in Gotham has at one point or another; the story of a poor psychiatrist new to Arkham who had been prayed upon by a manipulative mass murderer, turning her into his demented partner in crime and cutting a bloody swath across Gotham every time they escaped, leaving behind many orphans, widows, and corpses in their wake. She had spent years listening to other people’s problems and for once, wanted someone to listen to her, to make her feel like she was important.

In many ways, you can relate. Maybe in another life, you two could’ve been friends, wallowing together in your shared misery.

Just then, you learn from the roots that the Bats have been informed of the Joker’s appearance and are now on their way here to capture hm, unaware that you’d already beaten them to the punch.

“Let’s go,” you say, moving quickly. “We’re done here.”

In no time flat, you’re back to your car and out of the area before the Bats showed up.

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like we may have to take a rain check on that night out.)

(We understand. And you should not feel guilty because of your actions. It is thanks to you that not only many will be able to sleep peacefully in their beds, but many beyond this mortal realm will finally know peace. While many threats to Gotham remain, its largest one has finally been put down.)

“Yeah, I guess.”

(It is also worth noting that we have only been joined for a short time, you have accomplished much more than Batman has the last two decades.)

That actually makes you feel a little better. Yeah, Bruce has been doing this for years and Gotham’s still a hellhole. In the span of a singe night, you make it visibly more safer. And to top it all off, he’ll be racking his brain trying to find out who the hell killed him and he’ll have no idea it was you, his forgotten firstborn son.

“That does make me feel a little better. Thanks.”

“Ok, when you find out who did this, can you please tell me so I can end them a thank you card before you lock em up,” Jason says as they watch what remains of the Joker being collected into a large evidence bag by GCPD while Harley’s body is placed on a gurney and covered by a sheet before being wheeled out.

“You know, I hate to say it,” Jim says as he dismisses a detective. “But I think this is going to make the city way safer. Hell, the mayor may want to offer whoever did this a key to the city.”

“It doesn’t matter if all crime in Gotham stops because of this,” Bruce responds. “It was done the wrong way and when I find out who did this, I’ll deliver them to Arkham myself. I’ll take Joker’s remains back to the Batcave, see if I can find any clues on the identity of his killer. I’ll give them back to you along with my findings.”

“Thanks,” the police commissioner responds as he takes the bag from a forensic investigator and hands it to him.

“Come on, B,” Jason whines as they leave the arcade. “Joker was a piece of shit and it was only gonna end with his death. Whoever this person is, do they really deserve to rot in Arkham over someone like him?”

“Whoever this person is, they took the law into their hands.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Jason mutters, but Bruce doesn’t acknowledge the remark.

“And this person clearly has powers. If they go off the deep end, there’s no telling what will happen. We need to find them before something happens and someone gets hurt.”

Finding this person just became their top priority.

This is it, the night you’ve been waiting for: graduation. It’s funny, when you first woke up this morning, you could feel every second of the day tick as you waited for the graduation ceremony. The only thing that made the time go by fast was you thinking about the conversation you overheard in the kitchen this morning.

Bruce and Tim talking about spending the day at their computers, analyzing every camera feed in Amusement Mile to look for whoever killed Joker. You had to bite your tongue to keep you from laughing. Here you are, the person they’re chomping at the bit to catch, and they have no idea you’re in the other room. You should be happy that they finally want something to do with you, but you know it’s only because you sent Joker to hell, something Bruce should’ve done years ago.

And when you heard that Tim was skipping the graduation ceremony to aid in patrolling? You immediately did a cartwheel down the hall. Not only will you finally be free from Gotham, but you won’t have to share the spotlight with Tim and risk catching their attention, though they probably would’ve had no idea who you were. Alfred tried to get Tim to reconsider getting Bruce to attend, but when those two are obsessing over something, it’s impossible to tear them away from it. The butler tried to tell Bruce that he had another son graduating, but the man left before the sentence could be complete, stating he had work to do.

At this point, it doesn’t even phase you. You know they’ve practically forgotten your existence and you couldn’t care less. You have everything you need to go back home and start your new life, you don’t need them for anything.

“Master Y/N, are you sure you don’t want me to call master Bruce and have him attend your graduation,” the butler fusses over your cap and gown for the umpteenth time. “As you father, he should be here to see one of the most important moments in your life.”

“It’s fine, Alfred, I don’t need him here. Frankly, with the way he’s acted over the years, I’m glad he’s not here. Same with Tim.”

The butler looks at you and you grimace at your remark. Ever since becoming the Megamycete’s host, you’ve noticed changes in your behavior. Where once you use to keep comments like that to yourself, you know say them in front of Alfred, unafraid for his reaction. Or how you use to always speak in a barely audible whisper for fear of being overheard by the Waynes, now you talk to Alfred at a volume that could easily attract unwanted attention. And you’re certain he’s noticed your change, too. God knows that man is aware of everything that goes on in his house.

(It is because you no longer have that fear. Before, you were a timid little thing, afraid of being seen by a predator lying in wait. Now? You are the hunter. They can’t hurt you anymore.)

Alfred opens his mouth to day something, but one of the teachers calls for all seniors to make their way to the field, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He heads to the stands while you follow your fellow seniors to the field where you’re herded in alphabetical order. Once the teacher was satisfied with the order, she typed on her phone and the graduation music started playing from the speakers at the top of the stands.

As you follow in line, you look up to see Alfred in the front row, holding his phone up, no doubt intending to take several pictures and record just as many videos. You smile at the man, thankful to have him here on this important night. It’s then you think about your Momma and how she’d be cheering for you so hard, everyone could hear her. You feel something slide down your face and realize you’re crying. This is an important day in your life and you’re missing an important person in your life.

(She would be so proud of you. If your memories are anything indication of her character, she would give anything to be here right now. While the butler can never replace her, he is an acceptable stand-in.)

“Yeah,” you whisper as you take your seat near the front of the stage set up in the middle of the field. “He is. And I’m gonna miss him like hell.”

While you’re overjoyed to leave Gotham in your rear view and never step foot in it ever again, you’ll really miss Alfred. The man has been your rock since day one, celebrating your birthday which also happens to be the day of your Momma’s death. He held you while you cried and was your only company in the lonely halls of Wayne Manor.

Maybe you can hire him as your butler? Your smaller house would no doubt be much easier to clean than that behemoth of a mansion. Plus, Alfred is way more than people like the Waynes deserve.

After an eternity, the valedictorian finishes his speech and takes his place at up front, which is when the headmaster walks up to the podium and begins to call the students to come up and receive their diplomas. With each name called, you feel chest begin to tighten. This is the first time in years that so many eyes will be on you. What if you fall flat on your face while walking? Or try to shake the headmaster’s hand with your left instead of your right? Or—

(Relax,) the Megamycete says, bringing you out of your thoughts. (All will be fine. When your name is called, you will rise, walk with a level of pride none of your peers could ever hope to match, accept your diploma with such grace the headmaster will b in total awe, and walk back to your seat with the same pride as before. You are better than any of these children and you will make them know it.)

Hearing those words instantly makes you relax, your the knot that had been building up in your chest untangling, allowing you to breathe again.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a much needed deep breath. “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”

(We speak only the truth. We have seen the lives and memories of countless people over the past four centuries and not a single one holds a candle to you. You possess much potential and now that we are joined, we know you will unleash that potential and the entire world will be in awe of it.)

Wow. You actually have no idea how to respond to that.

(Pay attention, now. You will be called soon.)

It’s then you realize the headmaster is now on the Fs, almost to the Gs.

There’s three people ahead of you.

Then two.

Then one.

Then…

“Y/N Gould.”

This is it, your biggest moment in Gotham Academy. You stand up and walk with the grace the Megamycete said you would, accept your diploma from the headmaster with your left hand and shake with your right, and walk back to your seat. As you do, you see Alfred, a smile stretched across his face and cheering your name as he continues to hold his phone, probably recording a video just before your name was called.

(Excellent, Y/N,) the Megamycete praises as you sit back down. (We offer our most sincere congratulations on your triumph.)

You stare down at the piece of paper down in your hands and you while the evidence is right there in black and white, it still doesn’t feel real. You’re actually in awe of the fancy kind of paper Gotham Academy uses to print its diplomas, with its Coleen gilded edges, bold ink, beautiful calligraphy, and soft feel.

Hell, Alfred may fight you to keep it so he can frame it and mount it somewhere in Wayne Manor.

After that, the rest of the ceremony seems to speed up, the last of the names being called, the headmaster deeming all of you graduates of Gotham Academy, and the graduating class being told to gather behind the chairs for the moment every senior looks forward to: the Cap Throw. You follow your fellow graduates with bated breath, eager to throw your cap and complete your graduation experience.

“On three,” the valedictorian yells from the center of the crowd. “One! Two! Three!”

You eagerly toss your cap with everyone else, your cheers and laughs joining everyone else’s. You watch with joy as the caps soar above you all and begin to float back down to the field, your eyes tracking your cap, which you had decorated with paintings (the Megamycete allowing you to make them flawlessly) of the team you beat Cynthia from Pokémon Platinum with: Infernape, Luxray, Staraptor, Floatzel, Lucario, and Garchomp (you had no idea so many used the same team before you discovered the internet).

You collect you cap while so many try to find theirs and had towards the exit to meet Alfred.

“Congratulations, my boy,” he greets you, his wide smile still adorning his face, before bringing you into a tight hug.

“Than you, Alfred,” you respond, returning the hug.

When you separate, he flags down a passing man. “Pardon me, sir, would you be so kind as to take a picture of the two of us?”

“Sure,” the man says, taking his phone and aiming at you and taking the picture.

“Thank you, good sir,” the butler says as he takes his phone back.

He types on his phone and not even a second later, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket beneath your gown, indicating he sent you the picture.

“I’m so proud of you, Master Y/N. You’ve certainly earned this.”

“Thank you, Alfred. And not just for this, but for everything.”

You two leave the field and he follows you to the gym so you can return your gown and once you do, you two make your way to your car, which is when you realize this is the part of the evening where you two say your goodbyes and you leave for Goodsprings while he returns to Wayne Manor. And the sweet moment you’ve been waiting years for now turns bittersweet. You’ve looked forward to this moment ever since you started high school and while you’re ecstatic to finally leave this godforsaken city, you hate that you have to leave Alfred behind.

“Master Y/N,” he says, breaking the tense silence. “I know you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but do you have to leave right now? Maybe your return to Nevada can wait until morning? You really shouldn’t be driving so late.”

“We can put it off for as long as we want, still won’t change the outcome.”

“I know,” the poor man sighs. “But still, it’s over forty hours from here to Goodsprings.”

“I’ll be fine, Alfred. Really. I’ll be super careful. I’ll stop at a motel a few hours from here, take regular breaks, stop at restaurants to eat, and I’ll be there before you know it and in one piece.”

“I just wish I could convince you to stay. I’ll miss you, terribly. The manor won’t be the same without you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Alfred.”

You two pull each other into another hug.

“Promise me that you’ll call me if you run into any trouble, be it on the road or in Nevada.”

“I will.”

“And that you’ll try to visit whenever you can. I’ll arrange for Master Bruce’s jet to come and get you, you just say the word.”

“I’ll try.”

You’re lying. You’re lying and both of you know it. But, neither of you bring it up.

“And promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I didn’t raise you for over ten years just for you to end up in the hospital just because you didn’t feed yourself.”

“I will,” you laugh. You know he’s joking, he taught you everything he knows about cooking, cleaning, and housekeeping. That, combined with the Megamycete’s records, you have everything you need to keep your house together.

“I just wish your father and siblings were here.” You just did manage to fight off the flinch at the mention of those assholes. “This is an important moment of your life and they should be here to celebrate it with you.”

“I know you do, Alfred,” you respond, thankful that you’re still hugging so he can’t see the face you’re making at the thought of them being here, insulting you and making you feel like graduating somehow made you feel like a failure.

Finally, you two pull apart and with one last goodbye and promise to be careful, you get into your car, the backseat covered by boxes that couldn’t be placed in the trunk. When you woke up this morning, you packed your computer, video games, books, and other things that you refused to leave behind at Wayne Manor, your Momma’s pen sitting in your pocket as you refused to part with it. Sure, there were some things were left behind and while Alfred told you repeatedly he could arrange for them to be delivered to your house, you told him that anything you left behind wasn’t important and could be thrown away.

You didn’t leave much behind, some stuff like a few books you hadn’t read in years, a bunch of notebook paper with stupid ideas for video games that you had years and threw away when you realized no one in their right mind would play them, and an old journal you kept when you first move to Gotham. You archived every major event leading up to Damian’s arrival in those pages, which is when you finally filled it up. You briefly thought about keeping it, but decided against it. You had your stay at Wayne Manor burned into your memory and weren’t eager to have been more reminders around you. Plus, you’re about to start your new life, so there’s no need to carry it around. Maybe you can start keeping a new journal?

You start up your car, put it into reverse, and when you backed up enough, put it into drive and wave at Alfred as you leave the parking lot and follow your GPS to Goodsprings. That’s when your phone finally connects to your radio and starts playing music, Hollow from FFVII Remake, playing at just the right volume.

“Wow,” you chuckle as the music begins. “Talk about great timing.”

(We agree. This song is about heading into the unknown with hope; perfect for the start of your new life. It is as if fate itself is smiling down upon you.)

“Seems like it. You with me, buddy?”

(Every step of the way. Until the very end.)

And with that, you pick up speed as you get onto the interstate.

Alfred watches you drive off and only when you’re out of sight does he finally shed a tear. To see Master Y/N leave is one of the most difficult moments of his life.

He understands, of course. Not only did you leave much behind after the tragic and unexpected loss of your mother, but Master Wayne and the children had given you zero reasons to stay. In fact, they’d given you a million reasons to leave.

But he can’t let you go. Not his favorite member of the family.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but out of everyone in the Wayne Family, he cared for you the most. You were raised by a wonderful, loving woman who knew how to properly raise a child and didn’t skulk about at night, battling with criminals night after night. You had a normal life and knew what life was like outside of being a vigilante, bringing a much needed balance to the manor.

You were a delight to raise, always saying please and thank you, offering to help around the manor, and carrying on pleasant conversations that were the highlight of his day. And if the family would take the time to get to know you, they’d come to the same conclusion he did many years ago.

However, as brilliant as everyone in the family is, they can also be equally foolish. Too wrapped up in their civilian and vigilante lives to see the gift they had been given, but spurred for years. And now, you’re gone.

But not for long. You belong here, with your family, and by God he’ll make sure you know it, your father knows it, and your siblings know it. One way or another, he’ll bring your father to his senses, and when that day comes, he’ll make him go to you and beg for your forgiveness, even if he has to get on his hands and knees. And after that, your father will bring you back home, where you’ll be lavished in the love they should’ve shown you from the beginning.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back home, where you belong. He doesn’t care what he has to do or how long it takes, he’ll make sure you come back to the place where you belong. And when you, you’ll be showered with so much love that you’ll never want to leave ever again.

A/N: I got lucky this week. I was going to have 4 tests this week (2 regular tests and 2 midterms), but a professor I have for two classes got sick and cancelled, pushing the tests for next Monday and Tuesday. With only one midterm left and a study guide basically matching the test, I had plenty of free time to make this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @meechibee @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @marsmabe @ellaprime7

#male reader #yandere batfamily #batfamily #batfamily x male reader #batman #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere stephanie brown #batfam #dc x male reader #from gold to mold

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levis-poison-is-my-medicine · 8 months ago

Text

The Will

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 4)

A Levi x reader fanfic (Flufftober 2024)

Crossposted from AO3

Levi accidently finds your will.

A/n: Heyy, I'm back with a short update! Pour yourself some tea and enjoy!

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 0.96k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

"Come in," Erwin said, answering the knock on his office door without looking up from his paperwork. He didn't have to. It was well past midnight, and there was only one other person who would possibly be working at this hour.

Levi entered without a word of greeting, swiftly making his way towards Erwin's desk. He was only there to drop off some documents Erwin had wanted to have signed, then he'd head to bed to finally get some well-earned rest, the first he'd allow himself in two days.

"Here," he said curtly and set down the pile of papers atop another tower-like stack that was already swaying dangerously, making Erwin let out a weary sigh.

Levi was already on his way back to the door when he stopped dead in his tracks. Frowning, he turned around and strode back to the desk, going through the stack of papers until he got to the one that had been on top before. His eyes narrowed when he found it. He had not been mistaken. It had your name on it.

"What are you doing?" Erwin asked, quite baffled by Levi's unusual behavior as he watched him pull the document out from between the others.

Levi didn't answer, studying it with knitted brows. It was barely legible as it was written in a messy scrawl with tiny letters.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked finally, an edge to his voice.

"If you show me then I might be able to give you an answer," Erwin said calmly, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him.

Levi shoved the document into the commander's face.

"Well," Erwin said after giving it a quick once-over, "It's her will, exactly how it says in the title."

Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I can see that, but why would she need a will?" It wasn't like you to plan ahead like that.

"Don't worry, she's in perfect health if that's what you are wondering. She simply wanted matters to be settled."

"Didn't she give you a reason?" Levi asked impatiently, clearly still irritated.

"She didn't say, but I assume the catalyst to be the events on the last expedition. Two people on her squad died." Erwin dragged a hand over his tired features. "She asked me to be her personal representative since she doesn't have any family."

He hesitated, then sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. Usually these kind of affairs are confidential. However, I presume I could make an exception since you are mentioned in it."

"I am?" Levi asked, bewildered. He practically ripped the document out of the commanders hands, not waiting for an answer.

Erwin watched with an amused expression as Levi skimmed over the first page, then flipped to the second.

There it was. It seemed you had actually made an effort to keep your handwriting neat and tidy on this paragraph because unlike before, he had no trouble deciphering what it said this time.

First beneficiary: Levi Ackerman I leave all my precious tea to Captain Levi because he is the only one with a taste distinguished enough to truly appreciate its magnificence. Every expert would attest to the outstanding quality of my vast collection, containing only the finest and rarest of leaves with the highest grade. All of these top-notch attributes make this assortment of first-class tea my most valuable possession, so I can't rest in peace without making sure that it will be left in the expert hands of my fellow tea lover Levi.

Levi snorted at your choice of words. There was no denying that you had written this. Even when writing, it was impossible for you to keep it short.

You continued: I will further entrust him with all of my prized tea sets, including teapots, cups and saucers. Needless to say, they are made of the finest porcelain this world has to offer, making them unparalleled in both elegance and beauty. It's imperative that he should have them, because only with the right tea service can one enjoy the exquisite tea to the fullest.

I will also leave him my beautiful tea canisters and all of my tea utensils, including my infusers and sieves, spoons, tea warmers and anything tea-related I might have forgotten to mention.

Levi's part of the will ended here, but he couldn't help but keep reading. It didn't escape his notice that the next parts were significantly shorter with much sloppier handwriting. "Well obviously. It's not about tea anymore," he muttered as he scanned the next paragraph.

Second beneficiary: Erwin Smith The commander shall get all my good pens and pencils because he has to write a lot. I have some really expensive ones and I know he will take good care of them.

Third beneficiary: Hange Zoe My titan sketchbook with all my notes on them goes to my bestie Hange. I know they've been eyeing it for a while now, so there. They will also get all my science books, they may not need them but I don't think anybody else wants them.

Fourth beneficiary: Petra Ral I bequeath all of my clothes to Petra, as we've often borrowed each other's stuff so I know they will fit her. She will also get all my drawings of a certain someone. (She'll know which ones.)

Levi's eyebrows instantly shot up at the last part. It was pretty clear who it was about, and he didn't like it one bit. The way you had intentionally kept it vague only served to make him more suspicious.

"I told her not to do that anymore," he grumbled, putting the will back on the desk and marching to the door. "Where is she hiding that shit?"

He was about to find out.

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui

Click here for part 5

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kanmom51 · 1 year ago

Note

I’ve read theories that Jimin and JK split up at some point in 2018 as well as mid 2019, late 2019/2020, basing this off certain moments in Run BTS, JM travelling without JK in the summer 2019, the rumours, the behind the scenes of ON and Black Swan and the Grammys in 2020.

I know they have tense moments and to me that makes them real, all couples fight. But do you think there is any truth to just how bad it got that they broke up?

Thanks

Hey love.

I will start by saying this is my opinion I am voicing here. Based on full original content I have watched. Full episodes or clips.

I think that these assumptions or conclusions people came to based on a couple of few seconds moments we see in clips are problematic to say the least.

Let's start with that word - split up or break up. That is a very heavy term. I don't know what your relationship experience is (I just mention this because I don't know if you are single, have had a long term loving relationship, are in one or otherwise), but a long term healthy relationship usually does not include multiple break ups. A break up has a finality to it. Parting ways. Calling quits. Dissolving the relationship or ending it. And taking a step like that again and again and again, well that would take a toll on the relationship itself over time.

Also, breaking up, a love as strong as what we think these two have, it would show. Much more than what people think they see as evidence for such a breakup.

And when I say show, I mean more like what we saw back in September 2016 in what people love to call the Manila fight. The level of distance, clear anger and displeasure with the other, unhappiness that you can see in their expressions when they are not on stage or attempting to be professional, and this not being on one day, one clip, one event alone, but spread over a period of time.

And may I add that this happened pretty much in the relatively early days of their relationship, not 3 or 4 or 5 years in. The longer the relationship, the stronger the relationship, the deeper the relationship, the harder and more painful the break up.

And you see, this is the thing.

Healthy long term relationships aren't like a soap opera. Their real lives are not The bold and the beautiful, getting together 'love of their lives' style, then breaking up, marrying someone else, only to get back together and so forth time after time. Real life isn't like that. A relationship, a healthy one, cannot survive that constant turn on turn off. And it's even harder to turn on turn off in the speed that people are attributing to them. Love is not a switch you can turn on and off. And 2 people that supposedly love each other and basically can't keep their hands off each other moments before or moments after that supposed few second moment that makes people think they are not together anymore, is not realistic to say the very least.

And as far as I can see, their relationship is not a tumultuous one. Quite the opposite (especially once they got over that push and pull in 2015-16).

Now, with saying all that, couples, they argue, they fight, they wake up one morning in a bad mood, they allow external factors to influence their mood and at times their interactions with their loved one. Life happens. And these are a real life couple, even if they are 2 members of BTS, the biggest band in the world.

Not every argument or fight ends in the finality of a break up. Not every time you are mad at your partner or even pissed to the bone at them, do you split up.

As individuals we can have bad days. And that can affect our behaviour even towards those we love. Human interactions is what it is.

So, could we catch them unhappy with each other on camera from time to time?

Of course we can.

Can we see them being passive aggressive with each other? Mad at the other? Just unhappy or mad period (not necessarily at the other but in a bad mood that effects their interactions with anyone and everyone around them)?

Of course we can.

None of that is automatically proves a break up. None of it.

A couple of examples of instances we KNOW that one of them was pissed at the other.

Summer package 2018, the dream catcher necklace drama.

Basically JM pissed at JK not wanting to wear it as a necklace and guess who had that necklace on a second later...

And what about the NJ live 2019? JK pissed that JM and Jin turned off the live just as he got to Jin's room, starting his own live to show us that JM came to ask for forgiveness after being scolded by JK.

Neither relationship ending differences (although that could also depend on the relationship I guess), but examples of 'arguments' or differences they had that we know of because they either happened on camera or they told us of them themselves.

Another time we see them clearly upset at each other is the Gayo song festival Dec 2016. Clearly something going on, but we don't know what.

And here too, only days after the event, all was well between them, JK making his babe laugh while imitating Rainism's dance moves.

Point being, once again - yes they argue, get mad at each other (and 2016 was peak push and pull between the two, laying the grounds for their relationship), but from there to calling quits... nope.

And there would be many other moments we are unaware of. Cause that's just how relationships are. Loving each other doesn't mean agreeing on every single thing. It would many times mean compatibility (for a long term relationship to last), but compatibility doesn't mean being a mould of each other.

Now specifically to the examples you mention:

2018 Jikook were stronger than ever. This is after their Tokyo trip, which they just would not shut up about. You can see them in interviews, in award shows, in other footage from that time (including BV 3 in Malta). I really do not understand where these rumours of a break up at that time are coming from.

Saying that, I am aware that there are those that think that part of the struggles the members were going through in 2018 that almost let to them disbanding also included JM and JK splitting up. I beg to differ. At least from the content we have from 2018 (I don't claim to have inside info going back to 2018 and the status of their relationship). I actually believe that having each other during that time made it easier for them to deal with the hardships (kind of like how JK being by JM's side helped him deal with everything he was going through in 2020, and JM being there, as much as he could under the circumstances, for JK who was struggling early 2023). Throughout the content (official and unofficial) from 2018, start to end, we see how close and utterly in love they are with each other.

See beginning to mid 2018 Jikook interactions in my 2018 timeline.

And things were no different in the second half of the year.

All this happened in 2018:

youtube

Could they have had ups and downs?

Of course they could have. All long term relationships have those, even the best of them. But again, split up or broken up? Nope, not in my opinion.

Then we have the 2019 break up claims.

I think that if JK and JM were not together in 2019 during the time the band were on a break that JM wouldn't have made the effort and flown all the way back to see him for his birthday, nor would JK tattoo that J over the M right after that.

I think that JM going on those trips was them allowing each other that time to spend with their friends doing the things they want to do on their time off. That's what you call a healthy relationship btw. Allowing each other to grow as an individual, spend time with your friends, travel cause that's what you love to do, something that we learnt back in 2018 Malta that isn't something that JK really loved to do back in the day - could have changed, as people grow and change, but at the time didn't really interest him (perhaps especially seeing it wouldn't be the two of them alone).

We know from Hobi and JK that it's not like the two (JK and JM) weren't seeing each other or getting together over the break. It's only that JM went travelling and JK didn't.

And btw, these three were basically the only ones that did see each other over the break. If indeed the two broke up, would they be spending that time that they can together and not apart? Choosing to get together when they aren't obliged to do so being part of the band and having to work with each other?

And again, looking at 2019, before and after the break, the two seem stronger than ever. 2019 muster before, for example.

Damn that pic limit, I could go on with these forever.

And right after we had BV4,

And their final Seoul concerts October 2019.

Next you also mentioned the behind scenes of the Black swan MV shoot as an example used to claim that JM and JM were not together at the time.

Another good example to show you how this conclusion making is so ridiculous. They are literally taking one little moment from that MV shoot and creating a whole breakup narrative, all while from the same MV shoot we have the two full on having a flirt fest in front of our salads. Including that whole JM calling I love you to JK and him turning around all giddy-bashful.

SAME MV SHOOT.

Then you mention Grammy's 2020. First I've heard of them being broken up during that period. But let's look at what we have either from same night or the days before and after.

James Corden carpool karaoke January 2020. JM's excitement with JK's vocals and JK's incapable of keeping his eyes off JM.

Grammy's night

That moment there.

And for those that claim it isn't JM JK is looking at, well who's wittle nose is that turned towards JK?

Nope. No broken up couple detected.

I Heart Radio

Someone holding on real tight to his man.

When exactly did they have time to break up, with all the shit that entails with a break up and then get back together like nothing happened, all lovey dovey and hot for each other?

I will tell you when I find these rumours of breakup happen.

They happen when there isn't much group content and the two of them don't volunteer much, such as telling us about them spending time together or interacting on social media with each other (surprise surprise when two people are together that they don't interact on sm, even more so their public accounts). And god forbid they are seen with others out and about instead with each other. That for sure means they are not together anymore. Eye roll. Eye roll. Eye roll.

Bottom line, you're probably saying "about bloody time"...

In my opinion all this talk about multiple break ups (and btw, same people claiming a break up in early 2022 and then 2023) is a whole load of bs. Arguments, no doubt. Bad day, 100%. We all have those. But breaking up or even, if you wish to soften it a little by calling it "taking a break" - nope. I personally do not believe this to be the case.

#Jikook #Koookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM

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jomiddlemarch · 5 months ago

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Silly things do cease to be silly

George Knightley was well aware the household staff at Hartfield had been much in favor of his engagement to Emma, even more so when they learnt the marriage would not lead to Emma’s departure from the estate but rather his stabilizing arrival, but he admitted to some surprise when he arrived in the afternoon for a visit and was positively hurried to the drawing room by the butler, a circumspect man of indeterminate age moving with the alacrity of a boy whose transgression was about to be found out by a stern nurse.

“Godspeed, sir,” the man muttered before closing the door silently.

“My dear Emma—” he began, approaching her calmly, something of a feat given the way she was striding about the room, her curls bouncing with an unearthly energy, her hazel eyes wild. He’d never known India muslin could flap so dramatically.

“I’m being driven to distraction, Mr. Knightley, and I don’t see how I can bear it though I don’t see how it won’t be borne! I vow I’m likely to tear my hair out and scream myself hoarse and I know you shall tell me I’m not behaving with any degree of decorum, but the time for decorum is long, long gone!” she exclaimed, trembling beneath his hands when he took hold of hers in their usual greeting, shuddering when he pulled her into a gentle embrace. It was an indication of the vast affection he held for her that the sensation of her heaving bosom pressed to his chest, the hint of her slender waist he felt as he stroked her back only evoked tenderness in him, nothing libidinous. He told himself that, to keep anything remotely carnal at bay, and he also calculated the acreage he meant to plant with rye instead of barley and the projected profit if the market held.

“Don’t tear out your hair, darling Emma,” he said. “I’ve a particular fondness for those curls.”

“They’re fake. It takes Susan two hours with the irons or I’ve got to sleep in rags,” she murmured against his frock-coat. “My hair’s straight as a stick, another disappointment—”

“Nothing about you is a disappointment to me. Though I’m concerned to find you in such a state,” he said. “Is it happening too quickly? We might extend the engagement if that would set your mind at ease. I’ve waited long enough, I shouldn’t mind waiting longer if it would make you happy, dearest.”

“I should mind, most dreadfully,” she said. She looked up at him and for the thousandth time, he thought how her face looked like a flower. “And you shouldn’t wait any longer than the next fortnight. How I shall bear it, I cannot say—”

“What’s troubling you then?”

“The wedding-breakfast. And Papa,” she replied. “I have reviewed the menu with him a dozen times and he frets over something new each time. When I include all the dishes he suggests, the table groans and then he worries we’d all get sick from a surfeit of rich foods. When I make the menu very simple, very plain, barely more than an invalid’s board, he worries we’ll starve. And he won’t countenance anything made with lemon!”

George nodded. It was not a tremendous shock that Emma’s father, who was beset by anxieties most frequently related to meals and their relative risk to the health of all he held dear, would be distressed about the upcoming wedding-breakfast though George attributed Emma’s response to a bride’s nerves. What was called for then, was to remind her that she was to be a bride, his bride and then, his beloved wife.

“Why are you dismayed about the lemon?” he asked.

“Because it’s your favorite and now I’ve ruined it, for I meant to surprise you with lemon syllabub, and now you won’t have anything sweet you like,” Emma said.

It was obvious what he must do next, so he leaned down and kissed her frowning lips very softly, tasting her with more boldness than he had previously allowed himself, so that when they parted, the furrow in her brow was gone and the expression in her eyes was one of dazed wonder.

“I have everything sweet that I like already. And after the wedding-breakfast, I shan’t have to mind my manners when it comes to my appetite,” he said.

After she’d poured out the tea the housekeeper herself had brought in after ascertaining that Miss Woodhouse would like to offer Mr. Knightley some refreshment but before she’d taken a sip from her own cup, George spoke.

“I also quite enjoy honey.”

“Isn’t that rather sticky?” Emma said, her eyes nearly amber, but so marvelously innocent. “I always get some on my fingers and then I’ve got to lick it off.”

“Indeed,” George said. “I’ve often found myself in the same situation. We shall need to help each other, won’t we?”

Written for Janeuary 2025 @janeuary-month, Day 10, prompt: wedding-breakfast

#emma #wedding-breakfast #janeuary 2025 #romance #emma woodhouse #george knightley #emma/george #humor #george knightley being a bit saucy

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martialartslover7 · 14 days ago

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Neji Hyuga - My Headcanons

I have already spent the past few months or so, writing my own titular, pre-Shippuden, Hyuga clan saga, and now, through a number of interactions with friends and followers on here, and on Twitter, I have gathered a number of headcanons, related to Neji himself. That also took shape for me, while writing the Hyuga Showdown story. Let me run it down.

Neji loves philosophical discussions

His life, as part of the Side Branch, burnmarked him, time and time again, for how often he got beaten down, just for being alive, and bearing a mark, that has done nothing, but repeatedly remind him, how "worthless" he is, according to the Hyuga council. And despite Naruto and Hinata having invoked a feeling of hope in his soul, you just know the nihilist part of his soul starts speaking through him, once he starts quoting famous philosophers, and asking questions about, wether life has any true meaning, whether it even matters, or why humans need the struggle to grow. He is just fascinated over how complicated and nuanced human beings can be, how they face adversion head-on, and choose to either be steadfast and morally upright, or choose to do harm, as a coping mechanism. The same way he used to do.

Neji is really fuzzy about how he presents himself

Neji, in spite of "macho" appearances, is very immaculate and deliberate on how the people around him perceive him. He takes great pride in his appearance, his hair, his skin, his overall posture and form, all of that matters to him, and he isn't even ashamed to admit it, flat-out. This is part in due, how the Hyuga clan generally approaches combat, and the philosophy of "intimidation, through not just discipline, but fashionable dress-codes, and orderly, personal hygiene". Going along with the idea that, you can strike fear and respect in your opponent, if you don't just fight at your best, but you also LOOK the best. That is one part of the Hyuga clan culture that Neji wears, like a badge of honor, and takes great pride in.

Neji is the biggest gentleman, you can ask for

Despite what some non-canon material showed, may it be played for laughs, or just to "slander" Neji's character, whatever, even with the Byakugan granting Neji X-ray vision, being able to look, even through a person's clothing, he never, and I mean, NEVER, uses it to spy on the girls, or look at their underwear. ...Except, maybe for Tenten, but that is to assume that, they are already working towards a relationship, and deep down, she wants him to look, but other than that: Nope. Neji is NOT a Peeping Tom. He is one of the few mature guys in the Konoha 12 group, who always remains respectful of a woman's boundaries. If anything, that title belongs more to Hinata. Because, y'know, she wants get in on some of dat... Fox tail. Know what I'm sayin'? Always beware of the shy ones, they are the most dirty-minded, life itself taught us all that lesson.

Neji is one hell of a bro, too

Not only is he popular with the girls, just for how mature and classy he remains with them, Hinata included, but when it comes to the guys, he is not making them an exception, he is always ready to help out, wherever he could. Even helping the other male comrades, if there is a more complicated problem to deal with, where his opinion is valued by a big margin. I guess you can attribute that line of thinking to how all these years, spending time with Lee and Guy, may have influenced his overall mindset on how to interact with people. Sure, he is stoic, silent and keeping to himself, but when he sees and smells bullshit, he will always be the first one to call it out, without exception, not caring about the feelings of those, who are out-of-the-loop, or the consequences, beyond his control. If Shippuden was actually, you know, GOOD and consistent with the characters, I seriously doubt that Neji would just stand there, and watch Sasuke's character get publically slandered by both the elders, the wannabe-journalists, and the Kage, ESPECIALLY the Raikage, who had the biggest grudge to bear, since Sasuke attacked Killer Bee (even though, that was a clone). But again, if Kishi had cared enough, Neji would have unapologetically sided with Sasuke, all the way through, since he is one of the few, who can truly sympathize with him, outside of Team 7. Not helped at all, by how the Lightning village had once tried to kidnap his cousin, when she was still a child. He wouldn't just stand around and stay silent, because these asswipes were pulling the same tactic that they once pulled on his family. Looking for an easy scapegoat, because it's convenient. He just wouldn't let it happen. He just wouldn't, he is one of the few shinobi, who has actual integrity and moral consistency.

Neji shares the same hair- & skincare products as his cousin

Again, referring back to him caring about his outer image, and how he presents itself, he will always be kindly asking Hinata, if he could rent her hair conditioner, because that long, immaculate mane of his won't be staying FABULOUS by itself. And not just that, I just remember reading one headcanon somewhere else, that he and Hinata keep trading their bodily care products between one another. Neji using Hinata's hair conditioner (I mean, her hair during the Blank Period, I lowkey want to bury my face in that), and Hinata using Neji's facial skincare mask, and you know what? I will stick to that. It just sounds so in-character for them. Dem Hyuga genetics, always looking photogenic without trying "too hard", or, so they say. No, darling! Fabulousness doesn't EVER come for free, damn it! But that also means, Neji is taking huge pride in maintaining that royal mane of his, if you cut it, ruin it in any way, or rip a strand out by force, he will curse you, all the way to your grave. It's just ridiculous, but then again, who doesn't have weird quirks and things one can take pride in, that makes them stand out?

Neji's love language is combing his women's hair

(Artist source)

Once the missions are over, or he is taking a break, and Tenten or Hinata happen to be in his team, or they just hang out in private, Hanabi included, Neji's way of showing how much he loves them all, is by volunteering to comb their long hair. Tenten, Hanabi and Hinata are the only ones to enjoy this privilege of having Neji being their "hairdresser", if you will. And every time he finishes, the girls always return the gesture, combing his long hair in return, too. It's a very one-of-a-kind action, that he purely reserves for those women, who mean the world to him. And yes, that includes Himawari (Screw you, Kishi, killing off Neji was a horrible idea, and no amount of rewrites will ever repair the damage you have done to your own story with the amount of retcons you pulled out of your ass, and what you did to Neji's character, especially post-mortem, so just for how disrespectful his entire death scenario was handled, just out of principle, I will just pretend, it never happened, it's only fair), and if she were alive, maybe even Kushina. He is not serving the Main Branch, he is serving his family, and them alone.

Neji is more of a stay-at-home parent, than Tenten or Hinata

(Artist source)

If there is anything I have truly grown to despise about Boruto, is that, every woman in the OG cast was reduced to JUST the role of a housewife, and barely anything beyond that, especially Hinata. No excuses, this is something, NO ONE, with an ounce of integrity, should have ANY tolerance for. The reason why this is so irritating to begin with, is because, Kishi is not exactly known for having favorable opinions on female characters, right off the bat, so stuff like this, is just annoying and on-the-nose. Not to mention, offensive, too. So, no, let us just get petty, and turn this entire concept on its head. Sasuke, Shikamaru and Neji are the stay-at-home-husbands, who mostly do the housework, while their wives are the core breadwinners. Nuff' said. Because these three, have worked and suffered the hardest (amongst others) in their entire lives, they deserve to just have some peace and quiet at home, keeping their children from making the same mistakes as them. And from Tenten's POV, Neji always felt more like a stand-in housewife, while she is travelling the country to present her inventions to all kinds of science fairs, and selling weapons like a real queen, with toys being the back-up plan. And Neji supports her in that endeavor, all the way through, while he stays at home, and sometimes works as a part-time sensei at the Hyuga clan.

Neji bears the Tiger Fist, while Hinata bears the Lion Fist

(Image source)

Side Branch members are represented, both in their souls and fighting style, by the tiger, while the Main Branch members are represented by the lions. Just a little fun visual on the side. And the Tiger Fist is more about proactive aggression, rather than a defensive, and slower battle plan, like what the Lion Fist has. Not to mention, it glows green, not blue.

Neji loves weapons and cool-looking toys like Tenten

That one is just for the soul. Neji is fully supportive of Tenten's dream of perfecting the arts of weapon-crafting, wanting to see how far her creativity and inventive spirit takes her, and doing anything he can to help. And like everything, the way to a man's heart, is either, through cool-looking weapons, or toys, that are just the coolest thing ever (transformative action figures, interactive toys, where you can press buttons to see something happen, that just tickles Neji's and Tenten's brain), just from design alone. And their kids will be having a lifetime supply of toys to play with.

And this is it. Just felt like doing this, because I felt like it. Because I can. All this for the Neji fandom, and a certain friend of mine, who knows, this was long overdue. And if I managed to make your day, thank you, you're not welcome. I did this for me, not for you...

...Wink.

@nejihyugamyreligion 😉

Anyways, smell ya later!

PEACE.

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astroyongie · 8 months ago

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𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ Goddess Worship: An Introduction of Venus 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

Note: Day 21 of our October calendar! Today we have an introduction of deities I work with/worship. This post is to provide some information about the deities but also how I work with them personally. Everyone has their own methods with the Gods, and you should do whatever feels right with you while also respecting the bases of the religions.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Historical Background:

Venus is the Roman goddess of love, beauty, desire, and fertility, whose origins lie in the Greek goddess Aphrodite (they are basically the same deity but one can have a preference for one or another when it comes in terms of naming. I personally like Venus denomeation better than Aphrodite, yet Aphrodite's cult is older and thus more accurate when it comes to history). She played a major role in Roman culture, not just as a goddess of romantic love but also as a symbol of the prosperity and power of the Roman state. Julius Caesar claimed to be a descedent from Venus through her son Aeneas, who was a Trojan hero and a central figure in Roman myth. You can find a vast historical symbols and lore with Venus. Out of the three goddess that I work with (Venus, Freyja and Hekate) she is the most well represented through art, literature, historical history and mythology.

Attributes and Symbols:

Doves and Sparrows: they are birds sacred to Venus, representing love and desire but also innocence and purity. These birds often accompany her in art as a part of her symbolism. Shells and Pearls: Venus is famously depicted emerging from the sea on a shell, symbolizing her birth from sea foam. Anything directly linked with the sea can be symbolic in her name Roses and Myrtle: Both flowers are sacred to Venus, representing love, beauty, and fertility. Golden Apples: Associated with the goddess, these were the prize in the famous myth of the Judgment of Paris, where Venus was deemed the fairest of all. Other red fruits can also be associated with her, anything that holds a connotation of love and desire. (The apples are also an association with Eve and the forbidden fruit)

Worship and Rituals:

Veneralia: A festival held in honor of Venus Verticordia (Venus the Changer of Hearts) on April 1st. This festival was primarily concerned with cleansing rituals, bathing in myrtle-laden water, and offering prayers for purity in love and relationships. Venus Genetrix: A title meaning "Mother Venus," this aspect emphasized Venus’s role as a progenitor of the Roman people through Aeneas. Julius Caesar established a temple in her honor as Venus Genetrix, showing her importance in Roman political and public life. Gardens and Shrines: Venus had many shrines and temples, particularly in Rome. Shrines to Venus often included lush gardens, which were a symbol of her fertility and life-giving powers. This is also an idea to set al whole altar/shrine for her, that doesn't need to be inside of home and can be creative with your outside space. Erotic and Fertility Rites: Venus was invoked in matters of love, sex, and fertility. Offerings of flowers, perfume, and wine were common, and her blessings were sought by women who wished to conceive. Pretty much like Freyja, people would have sexual intercourse in her honor State Worship: Venus was integral to the Roman state religion. Augustus, following Caesar’s example, elevated her status, linking her to the success of the empire and military victories. Any "birth" was dedicated to her

-> When worshipping Venus, you can make a pretty altar while respecting her symbolisms. Venus can help with love, but remember she helps with self love first as well. Do not invoke her only to have X falling in love with you. her cult needs to be taken seriously. Offerings need to be maid every friday and during her ritual days. Never use her power to become "the prettiest of them all", as Venus doesn't take well humans who try to use her name for pettiness. Be grateful for her, shower her in love and admiration and she will bless you in return

-> Ideas for offerings: Wine, honey, shells, feathers, mirrors, roses, myrtle, perals, jewlery, perfume, incense, scented candles, hairbrushes or makeup, apples, red fruits, sea water or sand, anything symbolic with the sea and love.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

"Venus in Rome: A Translation of Book II of Ovid's Fasti" by Ovid, Translated by Betty Rose Nagle

"Venus Genetrix: Political Imagery and Female Personifications in the Late Republic" by Paul Zanker

Carney, J. (2013). Venus in Augustan Rome (Doctoral dissertation, Florida Atlantic University).

Flory, M. B. (1988). Pearls for Venus. Historia: Zeitschrift für Alte Geschichte, (H. 4), 498-504.

#venus #venus astrology #roman #roman mythology #roman gods #venus goddess #venus cult #venus deity #aphrodite #greek gods #deities #greek deities #hellenic deities #gods and deities #deity work #paganism #deity worship #polytheism

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marsprincess889 · 2 years ago

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About Bharani

Fate, The female and Desire.

Venus ruled, Mars's sign, Rahu's birth, Saturn's debilitation.

A kind of love letter to myself and other bharanis, especially bharani moons.

So, aren't we amazing? 😄 jk, but in all seriousness, I have some opinions and want to express them.

We're mleccha(outcaste) and venus ruled. What the hell is that? We're precious, that's the truth.

If there is one nakshatra that caters to females exclusively, this has to be it. This is no male territory. They wouldn't even understand. They don't. Think of how helpless they are when a female is birthing, how clueless they are about what menstruating feels like. We know some things have to be gatekept, for our sake. That's what we are about: guarding, protecting, gatekeeping, and we do it harshly, mercilessly, there's no other real way of doing it anyways.

I want to talk about what i think Bharani nakshatra is truly about: Fate.

Fate, choicelessness, being at the mercy of higher beings, authority, hierarchy...

Bharani's symbol is widely known to be the yoni(female sexual organ), a gateway to another world. Another symbol is the boat. In Greek mythology, souls were transported to the underworld via a boat. In various cultures, when a person died, people would put the corpse on a boat and let it burn while it floated away on water. Bharani-death association is no news, but why are females the key to all this?

After the freedom in Ashwini, the Sun's exaltation, we come to restraint, and not restraint from our own will, but the restraint we have no choice but to accept. This is the first nakshatra where we see the female. This is Saturn's debilitation, and amidst all this restraint we have the birth of planet Rahu, the birth of desire. Makes for a thrilling combination, does it not? While the male is cerebral, solar, the female is material. She IS the nature. While the male does, female is. The male's the user, the female's the used, and she can be used unfairly, poorly, incorrectly. This is the place where the female gets her revenge. Bharani is like a protection mechanism for ladies, she's given the right to refuse and if that right is violated, the will get her revenge. I'd say she has the power, but that would be wrong, because she IS power.

After all, all that male energy needs grounding, or it will disperse, that's why the female and her body, as well as mother nature that we all live on, are vessels_ material manifestations of the male energy that they hold. Bharani is about the rules that the universe is governed by, the unchangeable rules, the simple truths that have to be accepted. When you realize that the female perfection can be so easily ruined by the incorrect use of male energy, the choicelessness gains a whole new meaning in this context. It's the female that is choiceless, she's simply replicating the energy given to her on the material plane, giving it a shape, its proper shape, and if they don't like what they see, the blame should not be placed on the feminine.

So the female is the material and the rules,the boundaries, the limitations. That's why, in the most stereotipical way, many men fear women or are annoyed by them. The fate cannot be escaped, fortunately or unfortunately, and it does not really care what any individual thinks, it's much bigger than that.

Mythologically, various cultures have attributed fate to the feminine. The fates in greek mythology, three women with their threads of human fate, are one one of them. Another one that comes to mind is the norse goddess Frigg. Although I wouldn't coorelate her to Bharani, I think it's interesting that the highest standing(debatable) Norse goddess has a spinning wheel and a spindle, and it had been said that she knows the fate of everyone and eveything but keeps silent. Another interesting example would be Arianrhod from Welsh mythology. Her name literally means "The Silver wheel". Her various symbols include the tools used for weaving. The wheel-fate coorelation is apparent, and it's also interesting that fate is something to be "weaved" in all these mythologies I've mentioned.

The movie Brave(2012) comes to mind, where the rebellious princess Merida wants to change her fate, without any spoilers, there's a scene in the end where she has to repair a tapestry to avoid some disaster. She also has a tumultuous relationship with her mother, something that is also closely connected to Bharani. A really good example of this is the movie Ladybird starring Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalfe, both Bharani moons.

Now we come to the part where I mention my personal life. As Bharani moon my relationship with my mother has been chaotic and full of tension, it's not exactly easy to talk about or explain. I've also noticed this in almost every Bharani person I ever knew. We always have that passion to stand up to authority and injustice, and it frequently leads to quarrels.

TRIGGER WARNING (gaslighting)

So I always thought that the gaslight gatekeep girlboss term was very Bharani. We've discussed the gatekeeping part, the girlboss part is obvious, and about gaslighting... the yoni is called "the great deluder"(source_claire nakti. Had to credit her!).

I want to talk about the movie Tangled and about Rapunzel's tale in general. The original story goes like this: A couple want a child(that venus, rahu's birth, desire theme) and the wife is pregnant(another bharani symbol) and she's craving a plant- rapunzel, that grows in their neighbor's garden(again, the desire-craving theme). Their neighbor is a sorceress. The husband ultimately steals the rapunzel, but he is caught by its rightful owner. They strike a deal: he can take all the rapunzel he wants in exchange for the baby. The man agrees.

After some time, the baby girl is born, and the witch comes to claim her. She names her Rapunzel, after the plant, and eventually, when she's twelve, locks her up in a tower. Let's pause for a moment to note the fact that we already have the Bharani themes of karma, cause and effect, desire and now claim and ownership(bharani, as the first venus-ruled nakshatra often tries to claim things and label them as their own and then gatekeep it harshly, just like the sorceress in this story. It's also interesting that the OWNED is also feminine).

Now, I really relate to Rapunzel. I also feel like I'm always missing something and that I could attain if only i could escape my current circumstances(the tower). Despite this state, I'm also full of desire and enthusiasm. When I was 8 (?) I won the tickets for my family to the premier of Tangled at my friend's birthday party. I obviously loved it(I still do), loved the story, the animation, THE MUSIC, Eugene... but never did I ever imagine that it would be so emotionally relevant to my life 12 years later. I kinda cracked the code and realised why I love it so much, it's cause she's basically me, and to be honest, she's every human in the truest, simplest way possible.

Anyways, let's continiue wuth the story. Rapunzel is locked in and while she's safe from the world, she's not safe from her "mother". Here I want to move over to the movie Tangled, but before that I'll finish the original. A prince finds her, they become lovers behind the sorceress's back, she eventually finds it out because Rapunzel can't keep her mouth shut, she cuts off Rapunzel's long golden hair and exiles her. When the prince comes to the tower he is greeted by Dame Gothel instead of Rapunzel, she tells him he's not to see Rapunzel again, he falls from there into the rose bushes and blinds himself. After years of wandering, he and Rapunzel finally find each other, Rapunzel's tears heal his blindness, they go to his kingdom and live happily ever after. Now, to Tangled.

The relationship between Rapunzel and and Gothel in Tangled is explored well enough for the audience to realize that she's abusive and a gaslighter(watch cinema therapy on youtube, they have a video about Tangled. They're also very wholesome). She's lying to her to keep her to herself, not really caring about her at all. The way Rapunzel feels misunderstood by the person who raised her feels very personal to me. This theme of gaslighting is very Bharani, as well the theme that love conquers all which is prevalent in the original tale. Also, I think that the damsel in distress archetype is very Bharani, as is the princess in the tower trope. She is power herself, so she's this completely passive power, waiting to be seen and be of use, longing for the other side while being trapped(saturn's debilitation). Bharani is about that leap of faith, to approach the female, to stand up to authority, to be brave, to follow your heart...

My another point is what drives these actions, which is desire and love. Overcoming fear through desire is the theme of Bharani. That's the very basis of life. There are tons of things to be wary of, but if we had no desire, no lust for life, we might not have lived at all. It's no secret that life and death, or birth and death, nourish each other. It's simply a matter of time(saturn, the material. The illusion of time is nessecary for life, limitations are nessecary for life, as bharani teaches us, the point is, are your limitations correct for you and your desires?), it's a process created by the illusion of time, and all that is driven by desire. While analyzing the tale of Rapunzel, I've noticed that most people focus on her long golden hair, ignoring what this tale is truly about, which is destiny, karma, cause and effect, bravery, how desire can lead to actions that have undoable consequences, how helplessly we are driven by desire.

One of my favourite movies, Tristan + Isolde (2006) is about the famous couple written about in medieval texts. They live in a cruel world but they're still driven by love, even though everyone and everything around them urges them towards restraint. They choose the limitation based on their hearts, knowing of the consequences that they would most likely have to face. I won't spoil it for you, but there's a quote in the end that i think really represents the essence of Bharani, at least, from the human perspective: " I don't know if life is greater than death, but love was more than either." This is very poweful. Life and death are just opposite sides of the same coin, death leads to birth, birth leads to death, and it's all driven by desire, it's all driven by love. And whether or not we have choice in all of this, we still simply have to accept the truth, we have to accept our truest limitations, as that is only way of growth and self-realization.

I'll leave you to that movie, that quote and this song. Love all of you, take care ❤

Please, interact with me. Like, reblog, COMMENT, especially if you're bharani, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

#bharani #bharani nakshatra #vedic astrology #moon in bharani #moon in bharani nakshatra #feminine #Spotify #sirereal astrology #sun in bharani #ascendant in bharani #ketu in bharani #astrology #nakshatras #bharani observations #bharani nakshatra observations #astrology observations #vedic astrology observations #astrology tumblr

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 8 months ago

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Lestat wooing you would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

( I wrote this draft a while ago, and only now edited and finished it, so hopefully I'll still like it after my next viewing of IWTV lol. I tried to balance romance with Lestats naturally manipulative and toxic side. And I tried to make a neutral set of headcanons for something I think would really depend on the type of person.)

- When he can, and when he wants to be, Lestat is like a dream personified: one you feel so vividly and yearn for so ardently that you pray you’ll never breach the waking world again. He sweeps you off your feet; both figuratively and literally, until all that’s left of you is a foggy haze that can think only of fairytales and fantasy.

- And yet, the dream is bound to end as nothing short of a nightmare.

- Lestat views mortals as toys, things he can do with as he pleases, and dispose of as quickly and as often as it suits him. He hardly ever takes into consideration the feelings and the value of those around him, save for when he decides he wants them: and even then, he can’t help but play cruel little games.

- Lestat’s love, in general, is a game. It’s a game of cat and mouse, one that only he ever manages to win. No matter how long it may take, no matter how hard you may try to avoid it, no matter how much it might hurt you, you’ll end up being his in one way or another, even if it kills you....

- At first, Lestat is very open about his infatuation with you, introducing himself to you in the dead of night as you walk the streets or sit in your garden. He apologizes for scaring you, ignoring how strange his sudden appearance may be; how it seems almost impossible for him to be where he is right in that moment.

- Though you're too distracted by his physical appearance to truly consider the logistics. Too distracted by his complexion and his hair that seems to be glowing in the moonlight, how striking his eyes are, how expensive his clothes are. He's completely foreign to you; both in physical attributes and status, and because of that, you're taken with him from the start.

- Being with him is thrilling, it's exhilarating, and it feels almost dangerous, so comparably taboo to everything you've ever been taught to yearn for. You would have never imagined that you'd be sneaking away in the middle of the night, tiptoeing past your parents room or climbing down the steep side of your home's architecture: all to meet with a man who only ever appears to you in dark corners and secluded spaces. You would have never imagined slipping back inside just as the sun rises and hiding your exhaustion in the morning at the breakfast table, knowing that if your father ever found out he'd lock you away.

- But just being with Lestat is enough to make you forget about any and all consequences that you may face. He's able to strip away your worries: waxing poetic about how he loves you and how he'll never allow anything to happen to you. About how he's capable of giving you a life that you couldn't even imagine.

- He's worse than the devil when telling you how he'll let you live deliciously: promising you no more pain or sorrow for the rest of time, how not even sickness or death could ever touch you again. But only if you'll trust in him, love him, accept him, him, him, him. His tone is never above a whisper yet it's deafening, rendering the world around you silent so that all you can hear is the beating of your heart and the softness of his voice.

- When he talks to you about the future, it's as though he can read your mind: as though he understands you on some deep and emotional level, perfectly summing up your deepest and darkest feelings that you do your best to hide. He promises to change the things you wish to change, to give you the things you have always yearned for, to rid you of the grievances and the heartaches that you have grown to worry about. Out of everyone in your life, it is a complete stranger who seems to know you best, and it makes you feel as though you are somehow one in the same, connected on some otherworldly level.

- He flirts with you in your more lighthearted moments together: making you laugh and flush and hide your face. He speaks so smoothly, so charmingly, so intelligently. All the boys you've ever met have either been perfectly plain or dreadfully boring, and Lestat is the total opposite: so full of life and passion and romance. It's like he holds your heart in his hands and tells it when to beat.

- He calls you such beautiful things: things reserved for your parents or the letters between history's greatest lovers. Some are comparably innocent to others, holding the affection of a guardian rather than a lover. Pet, lambkin, sugarplum, treasure, angel, beloved, darling, dove, lover, my love, my dearest, my heart, etc. Not to mention when he speaks in his native tongue.

- It's easy to forget who you actually are when every name he seems to call you is a term of endearment or your name spoken in a tone that you've never heard before. He makes it seem so foreign and different: makes you feel different.

- And when he feels his words are no longer enough, he moves on to gifts: covering you in gems and jewels and satins. You tuck them away in the bottom of your dresser, keeping them hidden away from your families prying eyes. The first time you visit his home, you're shown a room that's already made for you: it's closets and dressers full of luxuries that you've never known.

- When he zips and clasps you into them, his fingers linger on the pulse beneath his touch. He kisses your wrists and your neck as his hands slide across your body, listening to the heartbeat racing in your chest and the thoughts crossing your mind, knowing that his affection is filling you with burning heat.

- It's an age of innocence that you live in, and Lestat is a creature of sin: when he woos you, it's bound to include seduction and lust. He wants to sway you towards a life of debauchery, the type of life he has lived for quite some time, the type of life that he can give to you: one without punishment and restriction, one with only pleasure.

- He tries to lower your inhibitions: tries to trap you in a whirlwind of excitement, and romance, and affection, until all that's left is a dizzying love that makes you want to give yourself to him and only him. When he feels he can get away with it, he'll lean in close, staring straight into your eyes as his mouth draws nearer to your own. A grin pulls at his lips, feeling as though he is seconds away from stealing a kiss and sealing your fate.

- It's then that you pull away, wanting to; needing to, preserve your chastity, not wanting to allow yourself to get carried away and do irreversible damage; to be a fool for the sake of love. On one hand, he loves it. On the other, it infuriates him. He soothes himself with your touch, pausing only for a moment as your head turns away from his own before dropping his face into the crook of your neck or burying it in your hair, feeling your softness against him; a promise of what he is capable of winning as long as he can remain patient.

- You're so soft, so warm, so sweet: all attributes he tries to imitate himself; wanting you to trust him more than anything. He drapes himself across you, lays his head in your lap or rests his chin on your shoulders, wanting to seem gentler than he is. He is a monster, yes, but he's determined to convince you that he is not: as though he holds less control than he actual does, as though he is weaker than he is. Perhaps in a way, he is weaker: weak for you, for your touch, for your acceptance, for your love.

- And in convincing you that he is weak for you, he manages to win you over and turn you away from your family, planting seeds of doubt in your mind and ideas about running away with him. He introduces you to passion, to all of the things your family taught you to stay away from because they're sinful and will lead you down a dark path. He questions why something so beautiful and pleasureful would be so wrong for you to engage in. Why god would mean to keep you from enjoying them, from enjoying life and enjoying him, enjoying all the pleasure that he convinces you to let him give to you.

- At some point, he will find himself an entry point into your regular life: likely by attending a party that you and your family are at, and making himself known as an honored guest or sponsor; someone that the people around him are bound to respect and trust. He pretends not to know you when the two of you are introduced, though the way he looks at you when he kisses your hand will tell anyone who's watching that that is simply not the case.

- He plays nice in the presence of others, treating you more like a child than a potential wife: acting like a protective uncle when in the company of your family, friends, or suitors. He cultivates a close relationship in public with you under this pretense, lowering your families guards and making them believe that he truly has your best interests in mind. When other men come around, he is not seen as a competitor, but rather a guardian, someone that they must convince to like them if they wish to get close to you

- Yet for all of this acting, there always comes a time in the middle of the night when he finds you alone, acting as though a switch has been flipped and he cannot keep himself off or away from you. He grabs you from amongst the darkness, concealing your shrieks of surprise as he holds you close to him, growling about how he's missed you and cooing at you as grumble about how he's treated you all evening. He reminds you that you must keep your love a secret; whether it was initially his idea or your own, and against your better judgement, you begin to soften once more; forgiving him as he smiles at and hugs you close to him.

- He keeps you close to him at parties once he feels he has earned the right to; or even when he feels he hasn't, urging you to sit with him at his side and leaning into you so that he can murmur little comments in your ear, grinning as you giggle and try to hide it. You sit at his side as he plays the piano, watching his fingers fly across the keys as he quietly makes lighthearted conversation or teasing quips.

- In the presence of others, his affection turns gentle and innocent: tapping your chin, booping your nose, patting your cheek, escorting you around by your interlocked arms. In private his affection is more intimate: brushing your hair from your face, toying with your jewelry, lingering caresses, purposefully placed hands, long and gentle kisses. It's hard to grow used to the difference: how he can be one man one moment, and seem like a totally different one the next.

- But Lestat enjoys this difference, this game of his that he gets to play with you. It's a game he takes even further in an effort to make you jealous, to make you even more interested in him: to invoke some kind of strong reaction in you and bring the two of you closer in the long run. It's a rotten and dangerous game that he plays: brushing you off in favor of another, disregarding how happy you are to see him, taking pleasure in your confusion and disappointment.

- He expects to bite then lap at the wound like a dog, be the one to hurt you then strip you of the pain. He expects you to eagerly accept his undivided attention later on: for you to feel fortunate for the scraps, to wait for his beck and call. And how rewarding it is for you when you ensure that his plan backfires. Two can play at that game, you reason, and you watch as he conceals his own jealousy in response to your actions.

- When he stands you up during your nightly meetings, you don't show up the next day yourself. When you're at a mutual party, you dance and stay by the side of a boy your father boisterously insists you'll marry one day. When you need fresh air, you take the boy with you and sit in the garden side by side. And oh how Lestat could snap his neck like a twig: drain him right in front of you and sully your little saintlike dress. There's still a chance that he will....

- Your attention is like a drug to him and when he is left with none of it, he festers in sickness and in agony, rotting from the inside as he suffers from withdrawals. He must remind himself to be patient when he thinks about sweeping you away, about making you his and forcing you to stay with him until the end of time.

- He'll undoubtedly interrupt you, whether during your sit down with your potential suitor or after it happens: either scaring the boy off with the sheer tension and anger that radiates off of him, or stealing you away when his back is turned, grabbing you in the blink of an eye; reminiscent of times when you were both in much more jovial moods. His ability to suddenly appear will never cease to shock you, to startle you before you gain your bearings and sigh at the sight of him; whether in relief or annoyance.

- It's in these moments that he has to be very careful. He feels the need to turn you, to ensure that you're not going anywhere, but in doing that, he is playing a very dangerous game. Lestat believes that you could grow to love him over time, that you would get over the initial resentment of being turned once you realize the gift that he's bestowed upon you. But what if you don't? What if he loses you all the same? You'd be as good as dead then, wouldn't you? Immortal and yet refusing to be by his side. He wouldn't let you, but that's besides the point.

- If he does manage to quell those urges, manage to convince himself that now is not the time to change you, then he must decide on how to deal with you accordingly: decide if anger is the way to go, if sorrow is, if kindness should prevail above all else. Sometimes his temper gets the better of him and his sweetened words turn sour, making you wonder if the man standing before you is the same man you've grown to love.

- Oftentimes, you respond just as angrily, lashing out at him in the same venomous way, your pain and your exhaustion showing through. He can't help but love it, love the anger and the passion that you show him. He finds your fury exhilarating: proof of why he chose you in the first place, proof of how perfect you are for each other.

- It's then that he turns on the charm: smiling and laughing in amusement, somehow turning this rage of yours into a bonding moment. It's baffling to witness, and it gives you much to think about. It's in these moments that he might be forced to turn you, seeing the conflict on your face, hearing the words leave your lips, orders for him to leave you alone, how you never wish to see him again.

- He can't allow you to make that decision, to leave him and be rid of him forever. He'll ensure that you're unable to: that no matter where you go and no matter how far you run, he will continue to be the only one you can turn to, the only one who can understand and guide you. You'll learn to love him then, he'll make sure of it. Despite all the aggravation, a life without him will be even more unbearable, ...and you'll realize that soon enough.

- There's a very likely chance that he'll woo you after he bites you, that he'll turn you during your first meeting, or feed from you and later convince you to let him change you. For the sake of these headcanons, I've pretended as though there's a reason he's unable to steal you away in the middle of the night and run away with you. Just let it be known that under different circumstances, he might react very differently when trying to win you over.

- That being said: Lestat does try to give you the choice when deciding whether or not to change you; regardless of your history together. Although, it isn't much of a choice, is it? It's either change or die: a sort of "pick your poison" type of scenario.

- I can see him making his secret known in an attempt to win you over and intrigue you, to fascinate you with his mere existence and draw you towards him even more. Your interest in him facilitates his beliefs about you: about how you're made for his world and not your own. The fact that you're not terrified of him; that you still yearn to be near him even after learning what he is, proves to him that you're different from everyone else, that there's a reason he chose you out of every other person on Earth.

- Logistically, you know that things like him should not exist: that even if they do, they're dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. And yet, you find yourself incapable of of doing so. Knowing that he exists frightens you, and yet it fascinates you even more, making you want to continue seeing him: scared of losing this double life of yours that has allowed you to see things beyond your own comprehension and the set of beliefs that you've been taught since birth. If you turn from him, you risk going back to a normal and boring life, forced into realism after getting a taste of true fantasy.

- It's a hard decision to make; whether you'll choose to continue seeing him or not, yet you should rest assured that Lestat is seldom finished with a person even when they fully believe him to be. If he wants something, there is simply no preventing him from having it. And the thing he wants most is you....

#lestat de lioncourt imagine #lestat de lioncourt headcanon #lestat de lioncourt imagines #lestat de lioncourt headcanons #interview with the vampire headcanons #interview with the vampire imagines #interview with the vampire imagine #interview with the vampire headcanon #lestat imagine #lestat imagines #lestat headcanons #lestat headcanon #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanons #90s movie headcanon #90s movie imagines

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stromuprisahat · 1 month ago

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Alina and the Darkling’s interactions, pt. 16-ish

Ruin and Rising- Chapter 3

I've analyzed bits of this scene before here.

Alina just accessed the Tether out of her own free will, yet still she attributes all the influence over its manifestation to the Darkling. He didn't reach out, she surprised him,

As if him controlling her mind- laughable, since she always does what she wants- were the only possible option. But only that is the acceptable explanation to Alina.

Fucker's playing with her again.

No matter how badly off were he, he'd never admit the extent of his weakness. He's already giving her plenty by displaying his admiration, but that doesn't cost him. She knows she wounded him, she deserves the credit. Letting her know how much would be too dangerous.

Alina also proves she's hardly stupid in correct environment. She needs someone praising her, supporting her, gently urging her to grow... not a self-centred anvil.

This is the perfect summary of their relationship from Aleksander's side.

It's fascinating to watch Aleksander put on his unconcerned mask, only to lose it mere seconds later. How much can faith in Alina influence him even though he admitted she's not what he sees in her barely a moment earlier.

Alina's failing to see the survivor in him even though it's such a crucial aspect of him. She sees her own "noble" crusade, but not his greater goal or any personal desires he might be denying himself.

He stops the explanation, fully aware it's a waste of time. Alina believes he always intended to put himself above her, words won't change her opinion. Not his.

The Darkling attempted to bridge those centuries separating them by increasing her power, but that couldn't make up for her lack of experience, empathy or wisdom. He corrects himself. It could've been in time.

Alina spirals, afraid of her own desires, and she lashes out, throwing at him the first unfounded accusation she can come up with.

As if disagreeing with him weren't the only thing she's consistent in.

The Darkling has enough hold on himself not to deign to answer, so he does what he does the best- asks the ugly, unpleasant questions Alina doesn't want to think about.

And offers her the Crown, the Throne, the power over him once again...

Alina on offensive.

She could've been magnificent, were she to allow herself to become a person of her own.

She zeros on his weakness, and pursues it.

He's on the defensive this whole exchange.

If only her sudden confidence weren't just a bluff, empty words inside her head.

Love his "old grandpa" act. Sometimes he means it, this time it's just a desperate attempt to regain the upper hand.

And just in case we were about to put our faith in her too, Alina re-writes history, casting herself as helpless, hapless victim, zero agency included.

He's fucking touch-starved!

She could've used it SO.MANY.TIMES!!!

#Grishaverse #R&R Chapter 3 #Alina Starkov #The Darkling #Alina and the Darkling’s interactions #Darklina #The Tether #self centred and paranoid #grishanalyticritical #V #Ruin and Rising #Grisha trilogy #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #They could've been so beautifully fucked up!

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emotionallychargedtowel · 6 months ago

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Favorite QL Characters of 2024

Thanks for tagging me, @wen-kexing-apologist! And thanks to @abstractelysium for getting the ball rolling with some solid end-of-the-year prompts.

Mitsuya Ayumu, Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding/Mitsuya Sensei no Keikakuteki na Edzuke

I love it when a character really has their shit together in some admirable ways but also has big things to learn. Mitsuya has so many things about life figured out, which is part of the reason Ishida first gravitates toward him. But for all his wisdom and competence in some areas, in others, he's been avoiding facing his fears and challenging himself for way too long—until meeting Ishida starts to change things. I have a particular love for this character as a middle-aged BL-watcher. Mitsuya has ten years on me, but he's still way closer to my age than most BL leads. I hadn't realized how much I wanted—maybe needed?—to see an older protagonist in a BL until I watched this series.

Of course, Yamazaki Masayoshi's performance, and his considerable personal charms, helped a great deal too. His approach to the role was so naturalistic that it seemed like important attributes of Mitsuya's, like his self-acceptance and vulnerability, must be things Yamazaki shares. Who knows, maybe he does. But conveying these things onscreen remains a matter of acting talent and the result is a joy to watch regardless.

There's a moment that really exemplifies this. Although I wasn't pleased that the show didn't include a kiss, there was a moment right when Ishida was about to kiss Mitsuya (before they were interrupted) that I absolutely adore. Ishida makes one last declaration of his feelings and asks if he can stay with Mitsuya, who assents and says, "Enough. I surrender." And he does. He doesn't turn into a "blushing maiden." He doesn't go all floppy (not that there's anything wrong with that). It's a different kind of surrender. When Ishida grasps his shoulders and moves closer, Mitsuya tilts his head a little, looks down, and gives a little shy smile. Then Ishida touches his face and he closes his eyes and lets his head fall further to the side and there's just this quality about him in that moment that is so soft and trusting and unhurried—vulnerability and confidence coinciding again, Mitsuya at his best—that evokes something sexier and more romantic than any number of BL kisses I've seen this year.

Hatano, Zettai BL 2024 (Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko)

Regular readers may have noticed that I have a bit of a fixation on this character. I collaborated on a fansub largely because I wanted to see his scenes get translated. I wrote a four-part series of posts about him. Part of the reason for this is undoubtedly that he was played by one of my all-time blorbos, Sekoguchi Ryo. But Hatano also just stands out among the other Zettai BL characters. I mean, there's a reason the series of posts I wrote about him was called What's Different about Hatano. Of all Mob's suitors (and there are a lot of them), he's the only one besides Kikuchi who manages to get to know Mob and spend time with him. He's also the only one of Mob's suitors, period, who shows some awareness of Mob's other life as the main character of a show about living in BL World (albeit in an ambiguous way). And then there are all the other reasons why his approach to pursuing Mob and the way he's situated in relation to Mob make him unique...well, it's all in the posts.

Hatano's uniqueness in the Zettai BL-verse isn't the only thing I appreciate about him, though. At the end of the day, he just makes things happen and keeps things interesting. He pulls off the BL-within-a-BL storyline with aplomb. And I enjoy the way he has this icy, unflappable, unattainable persona with his peers but falls apart and turns into a flustered, agitated wreck around Mob.

Of course, I think Sekoguchi Ryo was wonderful in this role. A big part of playing Hatano is acting like you're in a dramatic scene when you're in a comedy, but sometimes a scene needs the level of deep commitment one would offer in a drama and sometimes it calls for something with a slight undercurrent of irony (without detracting from the genuineness of the character). Sekoguchi walks that line pretty much perfectly. He both sold me on Hatano's sincerity in funny scenes like the fantasy sequence where he responds to Mob's efforts to pawn him off on another teenager by curling up in his lap (!) and broke my heart in the fake angle kiss scene. But I wouldn't have expected any less.

Hayama Asami, 25 ji Akasaka de

I have to admit, I went into 25 ji Akasaka de wanting and expecting to like Hayama. After all, he's played by Komagine Kiita, another favorite actor of mine. (Komagine and Sekoguchi Ryo starred together in Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger and their characters had a well-developed shippy relationship there, which has a lot to do with how much I like them both.) But I'm pretty sure I would have been fascinated with Hayama even without that bias. I love a good mid-series point-of-view revelation, and Hayama had a doozy of one. He ended up being one of the most psychologically complex characters I saw in BL this past year. I'm also a sucker for pining, and Hayama pines with the best of them. The episode 9 scene where Shirasaki hits on him with the pretense of needing acting help, forcing him to choose between pushing away the person he wants or being intimate with him in a way that's apparently meaningless, is a contender for the angstiest scene of the year. And I always enjoy when a character who's a huge pining, angst-y mess on the inside seems all cool and together on the outside (see above re: Hatano). With all this, it's no wonder I love Hayama. I don't think it's just my bias talking when I say I think Komagine knocked this performance out of the park. He impressed me immediately with his versatility, since Hayama is almost the complete opposite of his cinnamon-roll-on-speed character from Zenkaiger. He kept impressing me, after which the point-of-view switch episode was another step up. But it was the opening scene of episode 9 that really showed me what he was capable of. Komagine's performance was so subtle, immediate, and affecting that my respect for him went through the roof.

Shirasaki Yuki, 25 ji Akasaka de

Yep, I'm including both leads from this series. That's just how strong the series as a whole is, in my view.

Shirasaki has gotten a bad rap at times. It's understandable—Hayama is a (justifiably) beloved character and Shirasaki puts him through the ringer. Personally, I think he did pretty well given where he was at the beginning of the series and the circumstances he found himself in—including a carefully devised misunderstanding plot that, as @ginnymoonbeam demonstrated in a post on the subject, was written in such a way that his conclusions about Hayama were reasonably well-founded and not just the result of insecurity gone wild or something even more senseless (as occurs in a lot of BLs that are written with less care). But even if you think Shirasaki is a dick, he's still an interesting, vividly-drawn character who's frequently relatable even as he makes choices viewers find frustrating.

One of the aspects of Hayama's point-of-view reveal that I enjoyed the most wasn't about Hayama himself, but the side of Shirasaki that Hayama is able to see more clearly. When Shirasaki's point of view dominates the story, he emphasizes his insecurity. But when Hayama's does, we can see that Shirasaki has a kind of deep conviction about things that can come out in the form of a strident confidence that helps to balance out his self-doubt and self-effacement.

I may be partial to Shirasaki for another reason. I'm going to preface this by saying that this is just my take on this, and a rather tentative one at that. But since it's a real factor in my feelings about Shirasaki, I think it's worth mentioning. I have some significant people in my life who have autism and I've been exploring whether I may belong in that category myself (combined with my already-diagnosed ADHD, just to make things extra complicated). At the very least, I have quite a few attributes in common with autistic folks. You can probably guess where I'm going with this. To me, Shirasaki seems pretty autism-coded. He has strong opinions, to the point where they could seem rather black-and-white, but another way of looking at this is that he has carefully considered his stance on things and once he forms his views, he sticks to his guns. He's really observant about people in some ways, but comes off (to neurotypical folks, at least) as dense in others. (Boy, does that ever sound familiar.) These ways of thinking, and the social weirdness that they can sometimes entail, are very relatable to me and not something I see represented in media all that often, even when characters seem to resemble autistic folks in other respects.

I still yell at the screen sometimes when Shirasaki makes mistakes in this show. But at the end of the day, I think he's a well-written and engaging character, and I have an abiding fondness for him.

I should mention that this character wouldn't be nearly as compelling if Niihara Taisuke hadn't done such a good work in this role. Shirasaki is sensitive as hell and not great at masking, so his face is an open book a lot of the time. Niihara does a great job of giving the audience something to read there.

Fukaya Kai, Perfect Propose

Just as I went into 25 ji with an agenda to like Hayama, I went into Perfect Propose with an agenda to like Hirokuni. I loved Kaneko Shunya in Ultraman Trigger and was excited to see him in this role. And I did like Hiro very much, and I was impressed with Kaneko's portrayal. But what I wasn't expecting was how much I would like Kai.

Part of it is just that Kai is a type of person I don't see very often in BL specifically or media generally. He's a direct, forthright guy, but doesn't show a ton of affect in his face or his voice. Whereas a lot of BL lead characters are pretty neurotic, Kai generally doesn't waste much thought on things that aren't truly important to him. He doesn't always share what he's thinking and feeling, but he also doesn't beat around the bush. One of the most striking examples of this is the time he offers to jerk Hiro off to help with his insomnia, but he also shows this tendency in other ways that grab the viewer's attention a bit less. Kai does have his share of insecurities, even if he doesn't show them very often. But his abiding faith in Hiro and their potential to be good partners to each other is sincere. Being so direct and so steadfast means that Kai is remarkably trustworthy, something that Hiro eventually grows to understand.

So Kai doesn't resemble a lot of BL lead characters. But he does resemble real people I've known in my life. I think part of the reason for this may be subtle gender coding that comes into play in BL writing. It's not inherently feminine to express your emotions, of course, nor is there any contradiction between masculinity and emotional expression. But there are more stoic types of masculine presentations that we don't see portrayed in a sympathetic light in romance plots that often, and stoic masculine people can have a particular kind of charm.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Nomura Kota's performance in this role. It's really restrained in a way that actually seems like it would require a lot of effort, particularly when you see in promotional settings that Nomura is much more animated than his character. Not that he shows that effort onscreen—he just seems like Kai.

honorable mention

Tanaka Kazuhito, Living with Him/Kare no Iru Seikatsu

In the end, this series didn't really do justice to this character or to Sato Ryuga's admirable performance in the role. It seems to have fallen victim to some adaptation pitfalls, from what I've heard. But when this show worked, Kazuhito was fascinating, complex, and endearing, and Sato brought him to life with a combination of restraint and subtle intensity that got stuck in my head between episodes.

characters whose shows I watched for the first time this year

Ai Di, Kiseki: Dear to Me

What is left to say about this dude that hasn't already been said? He's one of the most highly concentrated characters ever to appear in a BL. If a typical BL lead were a glass of fountain soda, Ai Di would be yanking the tube out of the back of the machine and drinking straight syrup. And he wasn't even one of the leads! But he's not reliant on screen time. In a system full of gas giants, he's a little neutron star whose gravitational pull draws audience members' attention to him so strongly that his supporting character status becomes irrelevant. He's the littlest meow meow, the babiest girl, the most chaotic gremlin. A walking ball of trauma whose picture should be in textbooks next to the definition of disorganized attachment. And I haven't even gotten started on the outfits. I was a bit behind the zeitgeist when I watched Kiseki early this year, but I made up for lost time by getting an intense case of brainrot and engaging in some seriously excessive rewatching. Like so many other Kiseki appreciators, a big part of my interest in the show was driven by Ai Di.

It's impossible to talk about this character without acknowledging the seriously remarkable job Louis Chiang did in this part. I don't think Ai Di would have been nearly as fascinating if a different actor had played him. Chiang showed so many sides of Ai Di and every single one of them was so vivid and fascinating. That much-discussed intimate scene is his pièce de résistance, but it's just the tip of the iceberg. I'm sure I'm not the only person who is watching with great interest to see what Chiang does next.

Sky, Love in the Air

I didn't know what to expect going into Love in the Air, which is part of the reason I didn't watch it sooner. The second half of the series ended up blowing me away in a lot of respects. It has its issues, certainly. Sometimes the portrayal of Sky's trauma history and its present-day effects verges on being sensationalistic enough to feel exploitative, though it never crossed that line for me. But for the most part, I found that it resonated with my experience as a survivor of partner abuse and sexual violence to a remarkable degree.

Sky was written well, with a rare degree of understanding of interpersonal violence and the effects of trauma. But the character wouldn't have worked nearly as well if not for Peat's sensitive, nuanced performance. In a show with a lot of oversized characters, Peat wasn't afraid to dial things down in a way that ultimately made a bigger impression.

I'm going to be thinking about this one, and probably rewatching it, for a while!

character from a non-QL

Daichi, Ossan no Pantsu ga Nandatte Ii Janai ka!

For the first part of Ossan no Pantsu, Daichi functions primarily as a way for Makoto to learn and become a better father, partner, and boss. For a while there, he's in danger of becoming the gay equivalent of a "magical Negro," albeit one so adorable and wise beyond his years that it's tempting to ignore the fact that he occupies such a role in the story. Then Daichi turns out to have his own challenges—significant but ultimately manageable problems that Makoto sometimes exacerbates, but eventually helps with, rendering their relationship less one-sided. But it's only in the final arc of the show that we see that Daichi has been carrying around a much more profound wound than was hinted at before that point—and now Makoto, thanks in part to Daichi's help, is able to provide real support as he copes with its effects.

This progression works well to support Makoto's journey through the story and then afford him an opportunity to prove how far he's come by returning the favor, but it never felt contrived to me. After all, I've run into my share of overfunctioning young people who have done an admirable job of making up for the support they didn't get from one or more of their parents and ended up with a lot of valuable perspective that belies how much unresolved hurt they're carrying around. It's a type of person one is more likely to run into in queer communities given the risk of parental rejection that comes with it, so it's no coincidence that Daichi fits that bill completely.

Nakajima Sota seems a bit green to me in this role, like he's still working through a little bit of stiffness. He's charming enough that I hardly noticed this while I was watching OnP, though, and he seems to show growth as an actor just through the course of the series. He's a great fit for the part regardless, bringing a degree of warmth and charismatic sparkle to it that helps to justify why a stubborn middle-aged man would put so much stock in the opinions of a college student.

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