#i am always always here to ramble on AUs lol

[quarantineddreamer]

hiiii, please tell me more about that TGP AU 👀 if you want to! would it follow the TGP storyline? does Jyn get switched up with someone else and Cassian her soulmate who reluctantly helps her? do they figure out the real truth and then fall in love every time no matter how many times their memory is rebooted? I'm so curious!! also there's actually a lovely TGP-inspired fic for rebelcaptain but the twist is that it's canon-verse post-Scarif and it's really just them healing in the afterlife

Hi sissi! I see we are sharing some RC brainrot today (this and boxing au) and I am SO here for it ahh! 💕

(Uhhh first of all do you happen to have a link to that fic cause would love to read it 👀)

I haven't thought too in-depth about The Good Place AU yet, but (~TGP spoilers ahead):

As in the show, both Jyn and Cassian technically 'don't belong' in the TGP--Jyn knows it, and Cassian isn't really sure, but he definitely thinks he doesn't belong.

Draven is our Michael-esque character who places Jyn and Cassian together as soul-mates (for torture purposes). Both think the other person is someone else, someone 'good' (haven't thought about specific careers, backstories just yet). (I know Draven could be Krennic, but I kinda liked the idea of a more morally-ambiguous character from canon being the architect of a fake good place.)

Kay is our Janet-esque character who believes he's doing good in running the afterlife and helping its inhabitants.

Chirrut and Baze are a part of this neighborhood as well, except they are legit residents and true soul-mates. Chirrut was a therapist kind of life-coach in life and hosts lecture-esque sessions for the neighborhood where he talks about how to continue to put good into the universe, find peace etc.

*Cassian and Jyn both find these lessons painful, because they assume the other totally understands/lived the way Chirrut teaches and it all seems so simple except they both know it's not and life is more complicated than that.

After listening to Chirrut for awhile, Jyn finally confesses to Cassian she doesn't think she belongs in TGP and asks him to help her in becoming a better person. He's pretty torn up about doing this because he seriously has a a hard time believing he's a good person, but he agrees to help if only to convince Jyn she's actually a good person who belongs in TGP.

I need to think more on how Bodhi/Baze fit into the story as well....

But I think the gist would be that eventually Jyn and Cassian both discover it's not the actual good place. They do get rebooted many times by Draven (and they fall in love every time 🥺 cause im a sucker for that), but eventually Kay let's slip that there is a map to the real good place and they decide to steal it with the help of the whole Rogue One crew (at risk of their eternal lives) to find the real good place and warn them about Draven.

[wasabi-gumdrop]

thinking about modern au Kabru

ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).

Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).

his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).

he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).

he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.

Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.

he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.

it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.

Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’

and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.

he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.

he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.

Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)

[atopvisenyashill]

In a Rhaenys as queen, given that her cousins would have permanent places at court due to them being dragon riders, do you think l think Aemma would be encouraged to try her hand at one? Dreamfyre is in Arryn colors.

Great question.

I think especially after Balerion has died, Rhaenys would approach Aemma about having her own dragon. It would be a way of reaching out emotionally to her cousins and depending on how Rhaenys comes to her throne, that would be needed; even in a perfect scenario where Aemon outlives his father and passes the throne to Rhaenys in peace, I think Rhaenys would still want to reach out to her cousins. It's not just that they're family that was raised together (before Jaehaerys completely cleaves this relationship in two) but making sure that a competing branch feels loyal to you is important; there's a reason why Alysanne attempts to get Aerea back to court and why Jaehaerys refuses to give Rhaena her own seat after all! I can see Rhaenys looking at how Aerea specifically was handled and decide that Jae and Aly misstepped there and that the key to getting Viserys, Aemma, and whatever children they have loyal to her is if she gives them just enough freedom that they don't chafe under Rhaenys' rule the way Aerea and Rhaena did. All three of them - Viserys, Aemma, and Rhaenyra - having dragons is risky as hell (it's where Viserys as King imo missteps compared to Jaehaerys the most - not having such an iron hand over who gets to ride a dragon so that there aren't so many riding around who don't like your heir is such a silly mistake) but with Balerion dead and Syrax/Rhaenyra so young, it's not a terrible idea to offer it to Aemma. Especially since neither Rhaenys nor Aemma have very many children to grab up the dragons.

[I know in book canon it's Laenor who would technically be ruling but I feel fairly certain here that Rhaenys would be Queen Regent for a while, and Corlys would be Hand, kind of similar to Alyssa/Rogar/Jaehaerys or the way I think Cersei wanted things to go with her/Jaime/Joffrey&Tommen].

I don't know that Aemma would take the opportunity but I do think the offer of it would go a long way to make her feel both loyal to Rhaenys and to encourage a kinship between Laena, Laenor, and Rhaenyra. Aemma has Targaryen blood and I think the offer despite her not being a born Targaryen would really touch her, perhaps make her feel emotionally close to her mother. I can see, for example, after several years, that Aemma has had so many miscarriages, hasn't been able to have a son, is so incredibly young yet creeping up on 30 and feels like she's old because her child bearing years are passing her by, that Aemma might take her up on the offer as a way of feeling better about her own "deficiencies." Maybe she can't birth a son, maybe most of her daughters die in the cradle, maybe her husband couldn't win the throne, but SHE can be a dragon rider and HIS dragon is long dead now. Dreamfyre would be such a great choice too, with Rhaena's status as being the widow queen of Maegor, the wife of poor dead Aegon the Uncrowned; a gentle sort of dragon that has already bonded with a widow and mother, bonding again with another mother but this one sickly, unsure of herself, but ready to figure out who she can be outside of child birth.

It doesn't inherently butterfly effect away her death but Viserys probably isn't impregnating her so often because Rhaenys has two children, Rhaenyra and Laenor are probably betrothed from a young age, I'm sure everyone's being picky about Laena's husband specifically because if Laenor dies/can't have kids there's precedent for Laena to become Queen Regent for her own son instead of the line of succession going straight to Viserys, so there's not a huge need to have their own son, because Rhaenyra will be Queen Consort one day. To be honest, I think it's even possible that if she's not having as many miscarriages, she gets some freedom and stability from not worrying about the line of succession, and then Rhaenyra & Laenor are betrothed and Aemma is perhaps feeling herself a bit in her bond with Dreamfyre, she might even get healthier, perhaps healthy enough to carry a child to term. We do see that the dragon bond can help settle someone who is a bit unsure of themselves - Quicksilver and Aenys, for example, but even Rhaena and Dreamfyre have a similar type of ~growing into their own together~ thing that may apply to Aemma. And there's a lot of reasons for why Rhaenys would want Aemma to be confident, the same way she'd want Rhaenyra to be (and I do mean confident and not like, hiding behind extreme violence to make up for feeling unsafe and unstable) - having a strong, educated, compassionate Queen Consort is just a good thing, as we see from Alysanne. Plus this helps head off potentially fertility problems with Rhaenyra/Laenor - if Rhaenyra feels close enough to Rhaenys that she can go to her good mother or her still living actual mother and say "I don't know how to get Laenor into my bed" or even "Laenor comes to my bed but nothing is happening, we keep having problems, are we even doing this right" that makes their marriage and Laenor's ascension so much easier to handle.

There is one little risk with this and it's Aemma's son. If she manages to have a son that lives, she may expect him to be given the chance to claim a dragon and that could become a problem. It might not! Especially if, idk, he's young enough that he can marry one of Laena's kids or one of Rhaenyra and Laenor's kids, or born early enough that he can just marry Laena, and they can keep that dragon in the family. But as we see with Daemon, with Aemond, even with Maegor, and what Jaehaerys (erroneously) believed could happen with Dreamfyre/Rhaena and Aerea, a second son having a dragon can be dangerous if he's not kept close and under control.

[pup-pee]

y does it feel so SO wrong 2 share ur opinion???

[eievuimultimuse]

how much we bettin that i, with my habit of getting attached to doomed by the narrative charas, will eventually add ( MM-based ) stockman /SILLY but also........half-joking

[whysamwhy123]

Seeing as I'm not going to ever write it now due to Recent Events, I've decided to babble on here about this terrible idea I had for a big, elaborate comedy/crack fic. If I had been able to pull it off, I would have wanted to post it on either Halloween or April Fools Day because it's very much supposed to be dumb. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!

Keeping with my inability to come up with good titles, it was tentatively called ''Who Killed Tony Khan? A Hookhausen Mystery!''. At a company party where most of the AEW roster are gathered, Tony's giving a speech where he makes a mean joke about Danhausen, who decides to curse him. Tony then promptly dies on the spot, so now everyone thinks Danhausen is a murderer, no matter how much he insists the curse wasn't supposed to do that. He swears he's innocent. But no one's convinced. Other than Hook, that is. Naturally, Hook wants to clear the name of the man he loves so he and Danhausen have to team up once again, put on their detective hats and try to figure out what really happened to their boss and who's the true culprit. So the whole fic would have been a goofy romp with these two looking for clues, interrogating their co-workers and slowly piecing together the mystery. Obviously, it's not gonna happen now - I probably wouldn't have written it anyway because I'm nowhere near talented or smart enough to write a compelling mystery, but given the Stuff That's Happened recently, the whole inciting incident to that story now seems a lot less goofy and a lot more...distasteful. Plus, the dumb joke I was going to make at the end as a way to Deus Ex Machina the conflict away wouldn't work at all now (if you're curious, DM me about it, but fair warning, it's probably not funny to anyone other than me. And it's outdated now, anyway.)

Also...there were gonna be so many cocaine jokes in this fic. Like, enough that you could have made a drinking game out of it...

The thing is though...I still really want to write some kind of Hookhausen mystery fic! I don't know why but I really like the idea of Hook getting dragged into a situation so out of his element (like solving a fucking murder case - not exactly something in his usual wheelhouse) but willingly throwing himself into it because he just has to clear Danhausen's name. Why, yes, Acts of Service is one of my love languages, how did you know? So the more extreme examples of that, the better!

Hell, maybe I go even more out there and make it some kind of Film Noir AU. Hook as this young but still hard-boiled private eye, roped into some strange criminal plot with a heavy supernatural twist, thanks to Actual Demon Danhausen. I don't know, I just love dumb stuff like that, feels like it could be fun to play around with *shrugs*

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

fun fact: I actually have not 1, not 2, but 3 dedicated playlists of OST-style music for my various Guild Wars 2 AUs, and... that, of all ways, is the closest I get to "outlining" my stories. every sequence has a dedicated track that I picked out according to what I'd imagine playing in-game if it was an actual playable story arc in Guild Wars 2.

Regrowth's playlist has 59 songs and Flourish has 28.

then the Tideturners have one too, with a grand total of 22.

......... I don't have a problem,

[iwrite-sinsandtragedies]

Day 1 — Soulmates ₊˚✧ ﾟ

Submission for @goldengroovy's @olnfweek2024

MC: Micha

Long ass ramble under the cut 😂

Okayokayokay SO-

I love soulmate au's. I cannot tell you how many fics I've read or how many prompts I've played with or media I've consumed or how many bullshit ideas I've come up with in my own head for them, I CANNOT.

It's just - hhhhhhhhhhhh- Soulmate au's and Time Travel au's are just the shit that gets me out of bed some days 😩💖my world weary soul drinks that shit like medicine, okay?

That all being said, it's probably a little ambiguous which au I picked to some, so let me explain: There are two au's I'm mashing up here really, both are from fics I've read back in the day. One being a Clack fic and the other a Thilbo one 🤷‍♂️kind of calling myself out here but w/e, they were good fics.

The Thilbo one is easier to explain - the concept is "Heartsong" which is, literally what it says on the tin. You find out who your soulmate is the first time you hear them sing (and no, that does not mean everyone is just a naturally good singer - they can be ass at music but, the point is, when you hear them their song is the perfect song for you and your heart knows that). There's a lot of little nuances to this one - things like you hearing your heartsong when you dream so you always know the moment you find them. Also people who have quiet dreams because their heartsong died, sometimes before ever even meeting them. etc etc. The heartsong also seems to expand, in some respect, to instruments (as Thorin plays his harp one night and Bilbo starts to hum without thinking about it because it sounds wonderful to him and that's how Thorin finds out).

Overall, it's a very soft and sweet concept to me and as someone who has a deep love of music, it's also one of my very favourites.

The Clack one is a little less easy to explain? I think. Maybe because it's nuances are so round about but I'll do my best. The concept for this one is "I Only See Colour When I'm With You" - anyone who knows how Clack fics usually go knows where this is probably headed 😂 and I am sorry to have hurt you but, overall, the idea is: You live in a noir-esqu world where everything is black and white. This only changes when you find your soulmate, of course, who brings the world into full saturation and lets you see colour for - possibly - the first time in your life (I say possibly because I genuinely can't remember if you start out colourblind or if it's an age cap thing).

Unfortunately, for as much as I adore this concept, it's been a long damn time since I read the fic and I don't even know if it still exists somewhere. So I can't actually recall if it was a 'you have to touch them' or 'you have to hear them' thing but the fic takes place with Zack on the cliff right before Midgar where he holds Cloud and looks at the sky - so I'm willing to bet it's a touch thing.

I also really loved this fic because it was the first one I'd read that brought in the concept of multiple soulmates to me - As Cloud later sits with Aerith and sees the colour he couldn't see with Zack, meanwhile Aerith only sees black and white, because she was only able to see colour with Zack (who was never able to see colour with her, because he needed Cloud for that).

Essentially, they all needed each other to see the world in colour. As a polyam person who didn't quite realise I was poly back then, it was a very comforting (and now dearly cherished) fic.

Anyways! Now that you have the background on the two concepts, you can kind of get what I'm going for with this piece.

Tamarack, Micha and Qiu are all soulmates in a fuzzy, desaturated world (I'm sorry, I'm not cruel enough to but them in complete greyscale LOL) and the way you find your soulmate is by hearing them sing and, when they do, your world is suddenly vivid and bright and beautiful. Suddenly, you can see things as they were meant to be seen and it's a permanent change (unlike the Clack fic) but things are always clearest and brightest when your soulmate speaks or sings 💖

I get a real kick out of the idea that Micha's known for fucking months that Tamarack is his soulmate (if not years) because he's always listening to her play but never says jack shit about it because he's emotionally constipated that way 😂Though genuinely, it's probably because he just doesn't think he's her soulmate and he's a bit against finding out he's right honestly.

Joke is on him, he's Qiu's and Tamaracks soulmate! And he couldn't have picked a better moment to grow a pair an take the risk 🥰

[kroosluvr]

yay!!!!!!!

typo that im too lazy to fix: on the last page, "kasumi was one of the best gymnasts [in japan]"

edit: BRO I IDDNT REALIZE AKIRA ND SUMIRE WERE SHARING A SPOON TO EAT THE CURRY AM I INSANEEEEE <- She literally drew this image

1st 2 pics are genderbent akira+goro as well as sumire, 3rd pic is canon akira and sumire

in my head m!sumire is dedicated to rhythmic gymnastics, but the fact that it's not a popular sport somehow causes a mental block for him: kasumi was a trailblazer in men's rhythmic gymnastics. he was setting the course, but now he's gone. so does sumire live up to that? does he have to fill his brother's shoes? or can he just strive to be the best rhythmic gymnast he himself can be?

he was always solemn and driven growing up, but after the accident, he drove himself further into his practices and routines in an attempt to "recapture the spark" that kasumi had. of course, this is mostly in vain... chasing his shadow doesn't get him anywhere

he slowly develops the cognition of "sumire" being "kasumi's replacement." the younger brother that stepped up to the plate. to attend to his anxiety/depression he goes to dr. maruki (i'd say this takes longer than in canon, because he was always so busy with practice that he didn't really. comprehend 'oh perhaps i need counseling after my brother died' LMAO. and even then it's more "ok im gonna start competing internationally, so i need to make sure my mental is in tiptop shape"

he starts to reveal his insecurities to dr. maruki who. yknow. does all that. i don't think this sumire would specifically say "i wish i was kasumi" but more "i want to continue his legacy the way only he could have done it" which dr. maruki himself takes as "ok so u want to literally be kasumi"

i'd also say his "transformation" into "kasumi" is more jarring than in canon? canon "kasumi" is polite, eager, cheerful and sunny, but i imagine m!"kasumi" to be more boisterous, more outwardly outgoing/extroverted/outspoken, a little bit of a daredevil

on top of that, i think (perhaps) since men's rhythmic gymnastics isn't super popular, maybe not many ppl have heard of "kasumi yoshizawa" to begin with? so maybe ppl accept him as "kasumi" a little easier, which is. um. bad LOL

not sure if this helps his gymnastics at all. i thinkkk it does give him the confidence to execute more complicated routines that sumire himself didn't have the self-confidence to try before. but, of course, this doesn't affect anything in the rhythmic gymnastics world since. erm. everyone knows kasumi died. awkward!!!!

i think the shame would be all-encompassing when he breaks out of the delusion. he never wanted this.... all he wants is to keep competing with his brother, to keep supporting him into the limelight, and he'll never have that again. so i think, like canon, his arc is learning how to support and uplift Himself -- but more like, become more self-sufficient in terms of his own gymnastics instead of always seeing himself as second place to kasumi (and being okay with that)

it's different than canon as kasumi always told sumire they'd take the world stage... TOGETHER! ->

while i think for m!kasumi and m!sumire they worked in tandem, it was never really a dream. kasumi simply decided "i want to do this" and so did sumire. the thing is, kasumi's skills just far outweighed sumire's, and that much was painfully clear to him. kasumi was one who could bring men's rhythmic gymnastics into the international lens, and sumire has no idea if he could ever be strong enough to do that.

there's an interesting sort of dissonance here....... like. big fish small pond (genderbend au) or small fish big pond (canonverse.) i think its interesting.. okay enough rambles from me its 4am sdjsdjfh

edit: last thing i think. in canon it’s heavily implied that kasumi took the reins and pushed sumire to do stuff / pick out clothes for them both / kinda set the stage for both of them but i think in gb au sumire just follows kasumi as a result of kasumi being such a bright light. sumire has ambitions the same way kasumi does but he lacks the self-esteem to back it up…. it’s similar in canon but not 1:1 if that makes sense? i think in canon sumire is still questioning if it’s even her dream to compete in gymnastics so that’s the main diff

[solazu1]

Wow I sure do love making Au’s after Au’s lol. I don’t have the energy to ramble about this Au rn but it’s a remake of this old mh Au I had and thats most of what you need to know rn and yes this entire page is just of searchdog Au besides my sona here and there okay anyway.

as always, do not be scared to send asks about this Au idk,, I like rambling when I am able to

[tizeline]

Bro that angst potential ur separated au is keeping me up at night. You've said since Mikey would be a powerhouse due to training at such an early age, would it be safe to assume that Leo & raph are too? They've been mastering their ninpo 4 years? And if yes then dam they must be tanks. Must be a force to be reckoned with the bros and drax being all chaotic. Did they start to train so early bcuz drax only saw them as soldiers n stuff? Drax sure must've softened over the years huh guess he couldn't handle the cute lil menaces lol. Is Donnie aware of his own ninpo yet? I'm imagining him going up against the others with all his cool tech and then they whip out this anime magic ass superpower out of nowhere. Like meeting others like u after years of thinking u were the only one must be at least baffling right, now it turns out magic is real too. And he's gonna have it too(Not to mention the bro bomb waiting to drop on his head). Would his insecurities rise after witnessing all that?

Sorry I just absolutely LOVE ur au friend, i have a ton of questions but ill hold it 4 ltr. I'm really excited to see where you take it :)) -🌾

Oh man, Anon, glad to see you so excited haha!

Just a heads up, I'm still figuring out the story of the AU, so I don't know all the specifics yet, but here are some of my thoughts. And also, this became a bit of a ramble, that's what you get when you send long asks lol /lh

The way I'm thinking how Draxum is gonna be like in this AU is that he didn't view himself as the turtles' father initially, not really because he only viewed them as mere tools for him to use, he always saw them as people with induviduality. But rather, he hadn't really connected the dots that creating children + raising said children = parenthood, which led to Draxum like a year after mutating the turtles having the sudden realization one day of "OH SHIT AM I A DAD!?" and having a mini crisis because of that.

Anyway, while I don't think Draxum is the perfect dad in this AU by any means, he does genuinely care about his kids. (If Mikey managed to win Draxum over in canon after having spent a whole season fighting each other, there's no way he'd care about Mikey any less in a scenario where they've been on the same side since day one like they have in this AU.) He started training the turles from an early age and they are expected to help him with his Definitely Not Evil World Domination Plan, but they are still allowed free time and hobbies and such. And aside from some "ugh I don't wanna train right now I wanna play vidya gaemes" occasionally, the turtles never really opposed the idea of them becoming Draxums super soldiers. Kids are really easily influenced and if your parent keeps telling you that you are the heroes who are gonna save the world from evil, chances are you're gonna latch on to that narrative without question. But after meeting Donnie and April, who knows, it might be what finally starts making the other turtles question if their cause really is as just as they think :) That being said, I still have to figure out how Draxum would react exactly to his sons starting to oppose his world view.

Then their abilities! I also have to do more reasearch into exactly how the magic system works in RoTMNT cuz uhhh it's a bit unclear sometimes. Anyway, ninpo is specifically the magic used by the Hamato clan, and considering Raph, Leo and Mikey weren't raised as Hamato I don't think they would have access to that specific type of magic (though I still think they'd be be able to possibly unlock it later down the line) They would still have access to yokai magic, and of course the mystic weapons that they stole in the show would just have been given to them in AU by Draxum. And oh yeah, the brothers are powerful. To be fair, Donnie was able to keep up with Draxum pretty well in the pilot episode, so he wouldn't be COMPLETELY outmatched by his brothers. His tech is powerful enough that he'd be able to put up a decent fight even if he lacks mystic powers himself but..... three against one? Yeah, Donnie isn't winning any time soon. The biggest advantage he'd have would honestly be that his brothers wouldn't really WANT to fight him cuz they'd be all like "Long Lost Brother™??? 😭😭😭 Please come home Long Lost Brother™ we love you!!! 😭😭😭"

And I think Splinter would have kept both of their origins secret initially like he did in the show, so Donnie would't have any ninpo either, but I also think Donnie would still learn about the whole Lou Jitsu and Genetically Modified Super Soldier thing earlier than in canon. And god, yeah, learning about all of that would definietly be A Lot, which is why I still need time to figure out Donnie's exact reaction sorry Anon you're gonna have to be patient XD

[donttouchhadesbaklava]

This is going to be a long post, so buckle up while I ramble on 😊😅. Warning I am not much of a writer, unlike many talented ones on here. So forgive me if my character profiling makes no sense. It's like almost 3am in the UK right now…..ah I just don't sleep✨✨

So this is some concept art for Melione and Makaria with some slight changes.

I have decided to completely change Melione's design in favour of one I did back in 2021. Am not sure as to why I didn't stick to this original design. Let's be honest, my past Melione design is nothing special. It, to me, feels like a Persephone copy and paste. Honestly, purple is my favourite colour. Why did I avoid it for so long 😭. I think this gives her more of the goddess of ghost vibes.

Melione is similar to Hades personality wise. Shes rebellious, witty and will always somehow break every one of her fathers rules.

Now Makaria is the opposite, definitely a miss “goody two sandals”. The golden child, you could say, but the two are very close. From stealing each other's togas to gossiping with the underworld souls.

For me, zagreus is the first born, Melione second with Makaria as the youngest.

(Please excuse my handwriting 💀)

This is just a small comic I did after reading the Horn of Plenty comic again. Now, in my own story, the children go with Persephone for the 6 mouths on earth. As you can imagine, both goddesses aren't fond of Olympus. They love their family but hate the continuous separation from their father.

Now, as for their relationship with Demeter, it's very loving. One thing I've always disliked in retellings is the villainization of Demeter and how she's this helicopter parent. There's nothing wrong with this trope, but it's just really overused.

From what I've seen from the TV show, Demeter is a kind goddess who's not afraid to get her hands dirty if necessary. With this, Demeter adores her grandchildren….just not her son-in-law lol.

🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷

I have more sketches of Melione and Makaria. However, I want to shift my attention back to Hades and Persephone. I think I commented on one of @persephoneflowerpetals posts about having drawings of an evil persephone au…..which haven't seen the light of day in weeks 😅

Am very excited about future posts and can't wait to share. I really enjoyed doing my small comic and definitely want to try more.

As always, enjoy and have a lovely day!

🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷🪻🩷

[1800-fight-me]

The Phantom of the Red Keep

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Phantom of the Opera AU 

Rating: M (Mature)- as a general rule for my blog, minors please do not interact! 

Warnings: Gothic horror romance vibes, violence, very sensual scenes but nothing explicit, jealous and possessive aemond- this is not what we would consider a healthy relationship lol

Word count: About 8.5k

Synopsis: You are haunted by the phantom of the Red Keep and he is determined to make you his. 

Author’s note: This is not an exact retelling of Phantom of the Opera, it is based off of the vibes and loose plot, though I took a ton of liberties and of course the villain gets the happy ending in my version. This has been long awaited and its finally here and I am so excited!! I hope this lives up to the hype! Thank you so much @anepitomeofgrace for the mood board! 

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! 

Aemond Masterlist

You moved into the Red Keep when you were a young girl after your mother died and your father was given a position in the king’s small council. Everyone warned you of the ghosts that reside there. 

But you never were very afraid of ghosts. 

When a phantom voice began to speak to you through the walls at night, you were not afraid but rather enchanted. 

Your ghost had a beautiful voice, soft and low, as he whispered secrets to you from within the castle walls. 

Years passed and you told no one of your encounters with the phantom of the Red Keep, preferring instead to keep his existence to yourself. 

You used what he taught you to your advantage. People often questioned where and how you learned to navigate the political landscape of the capital city so well and how you seemed to know everything that happened within it, but you would not reveal your ghost to others. 

He was your watchful eye, your teacher, your companion in loneliness, your salvation. 

You often wondered if he was truly a ghost or if the rumors of the scarred and reclusive prince were true. 

But you never dared to ask, scared you would offend and lose him. 

You heard his voice even in your slumber, the soft lilt of his accent as he led you into dreams, dark and deep and often of him. 

He called your name, voice low and seductive, and you smiled. 

“Tell me of your day,” he ordered as you unfastened the bodice of your dress in preparation to retire for the night. 

You never worried if your phantom could see you in states of undress for a part of you would always belong to him, and besides, he was a ghost, or so you believed. 

“Lord Stark did in fact attempt to make a move like you warned me he would,” you said softly as you slipped the dress off your body. 

“Hm,” the unpleased hum echoed through the room. 

“I managed to dissuade his efforts,” you said softly. 

“Your father will not tolerate your insolence for much longer,” he mused. 

You sighed as you pulled on your nightgown. 

“I do not wish to marry.” The end of the sentence, ‘anyone but you’ went unspoken. 

For how do you confess to a ghost that you love him? 

The soft chuckle heard made your heart thump in your chest as you slipped beneath the sheets of your bed. 

“You will eventually be forced,” he said. 

“But you can still help me to delay the inevitable, yes?” 

“Of course, my sweet,” he promised. 

You sighed in contentment. 

“Will you tell me another story about dragons to help me sleep?” 

You drifted off to sleep with images of fire breathing dragons in your sleep and the warmth of your phantom’s voice in your ears. 

———————-

“How interesting,” you said and your bored tone betrayed your true feelings as Lord Greyjoy rambled on about the types of wood his ships were built from. 

You wished you could steal one of his ships and sail far away from him. 

You took another sip of your wine and withheld your sigh as the man, oblivious to your impatience, began speaking of sails and the type of material used to create them. 

You wondered how long you would have to suffer through this before you could escape to the library. 

The quiet refuge of books was your favorite place in the Red Keep. The fact that your phantom often visited you there only played a small part in why you loved it so. 

“Lord Lannister!” you said in surprise as he approached you and the dreadfully dull Lord sitting on the bench next to you. 

“Hello, my lady,” he said kindly and nodded to Lord Greyjoy. 

“I was wondering if I could perhaps steal your attentions for a short while,” the handsome man said. 

“Of course!” you said all too excitedly. 

He smirked. 

“I am sorry, Lord Greyjoy,” you said, your tone full of sincerity that you didn’t feel. 

“It is alright, I shall have to finish telling you about the wonders of my ships another time,” he said kindly. 

“Absolutely,” you agreed and took Lord Lannister’s hand. 

He led you down the path through the gardens and once you were certain you were no longer in hearing distance you looked up at him. 

At the twinkle of amusement you saw in his eye, you both began to laugh. 

“That man is such a bore,” he said and you giggled once more in agreement. 

“I hope it is alright that I came to rescue you from his clutches,” he said dramatically and teasingly. 

“It is more than alright,” you said with a smile. 

“My hero,” you teased and he smirked once again. 

You had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Lord Lannister as he walked you through the gardens and eventually deposited you in the library. 

He was very kind, if a bit arrogant, but you found that you did not mind his company and he respected you as a person which was much more than many of them men vying for your hand could offer. 

Unfortunately your afternoon did not get better as you anticipated, for you never heard the sound of your ghost’s voice as you read quietly in your secluded corner of the library. 

He did not visit you that night either. 

You tossed and turned and struggled to sleep without the comfort of his gentle voice. 

When sleep eventually took you, you dreamt of an angel with a halo of white hair who beckoned you to follow him into darkness. 

———————-

The next day Lord Lannister invited you to dine with him, which you accepted. 

You tried to be realistic. Your yearning for a man you were not sure even existed would not help you in this life. 

Your father would marry you to someone soon and at least the man before you was relatively kind and not positively tedious to spend time with. 

You even managed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at the arrogant statements he made from time to time so as to not bruise his ego. 

He was kind enough and you were prepared to settle, so when he moved to kiss you, you allowed him. 

It was a short, proper kiss and did not arouse any sort of feelings within you. 

But you smiled at him and thanked him for walking you to your rooms before you found solace within them. 

You sighed as the door shut behind you and you were once again alone. 

Your favorite voice whispered your name and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled. 

You were not alone. 

“You are back,” you said breathlessly. 

“I did not leave,” he said, his voice hard. 

“I… you did not speak to me last night,” you said. 

“You betrayed me,” he said and anger colored his tone. 

“No, I-“ you protested but were cut off by him. 

“No? What do you call it when you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at a man? What do you call it when you allow another man to kiss you?” 

His voice was low and dangerous, full of anger. It should have frightened you but instead you felt indignant. 

“It is not as if you kiss me! I do not even know if you are real or a figment of my imagination!” 

“Do I not feel real enough to you when you touch yourself to the sound of my voice?” he growled out. 

You gasped in shock. 

“Do not bother pretending, my sweet. You are not as subtle as you think you are,” he said. 

Tears of embarrassment pricked your eyes. 

“I am real, pretty girl. Do you not remember how all the suitors you despised seemed to suddenly disappear?” 

“That was you?” you asked in surprise. 

You sat heavily down at the end of your bed. 

“Of course, I protect what is mine. You are mine, are you not?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out, spellbound. 

“Good girl. You shall have your proof of my existence soon enough, but you must be patient. Can you do that for me?” 

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” you said hurriedly, excitedly. 

You could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Wonderful.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief that you were no longer the object of his temper, and instead back in his good graces. 

As you fell asleep that night you pondered on what he revealed to you in that conversation. You were giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting proof of your silent protector. 

———————-

“I wish to tell you something,” you said to Lord Lannister as he sat with you in the castle gardens. 

“Do tell,” he said and his eyes danced with amusement. 

“When my mother passed away she promised she would send me an angel to care for me and watch over me.” 

“What a beautiful promise,” he said, clearly placating you. 

You sighed. 

“Yes, and her words came true. There is an angel that protects me,” you said. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. 

“That must be a comforting thought,” he said and patted your hand as if you were a child. 

“No, not just a comforting thought, there is a presence that protects me from those that wish me harm,” you said urgently. 

“Is that why so many of your suitors have disappeared? I have heard rumors of you being cursed, but I have never been afraid of silly superstitions. I also heard ridiculous gossip of ghosts and recluse princes when I came here, there is no need to put stock in such things.” 

You furrowed your brow. 

“No, there is-“

“Lord Stark!” the Lannister man exclaimed as he saw his friend across the gardens. 

You sighed in frustration as you watched him stand and bound towards Lord Stark and embrace him. 

The two began speaking and you were quickly forgotten. 

The topic was never raised with him again. 

———————-

Your nerves were high as your lady’s maid dressed you for the masquerade ball. 

Feasts, parties, and balls were all commonplace during this time of year in which lords and ladies often courted and marriage alliances were made. 

Though, a masquerade ball was a first. You were excited. You found the whole idea rather romantic. 

“Are you certain about this dress?” you asked Reyna. 

“Of course, my lady! You look absolutely beautiful. The men will fall at your feet,” she said with a sweet smile. 

You really only cared about impressing your phantom and you hoped against hope that tonight would be the night you finally got the proof he spoke of. 

You smoothed the front of your emerald green dress as she brought you the delicate black lace mask. 

You pulled it on carefully and Reyna made a few small adjustments before she declared you perfect. 

You thanked her and with a grin you made your way towards the great hall. 

The moment you entered, you were enchanted. Musicians played ethereally beautiful songs and as you strode through the hall you were fascinated by people’s outfits and masks that bordered on costumes. 

Elaborate decorations made the room appear to sparkle and shimmer. 

A servant handed you a glass of wine and you sipped on it as you made your way through the bustling crowd. 

Soon, however, the dancing began and you smiled happily as you watched the men and women twirl. 

A man approached you and asked you to dance, you grinned as you accepted, and quickly determined him to be Lord Greyjoy. 

Though he was not your favorite lord, the music was quick paced, as were your steps and you were happy to join the merriment, no matter the company. It was not as if he could speak much to you anyhow as the dance was quick paced and required a switching of partners frequently. 

Man after man danced with you and your smile was as wide as the stretch of the sea. 

You felt a prickle on the back of your neck, like a heavy gaze was upon you, but as you looked around you could see nothing but strangers in masks. 

At the end of the last fast song you were spun by Lord Lannister and another man caught you. 

The crowd clapped as the song ended and as you caught your breath you looked up at the man who held you. 

You did not recognize the face of the handsome stranger who smirked down at you, so why was there something about him that felt so achingly familiar? 

He wore all black, with the intricate embellishments on the cloth a dark green, the exact shade as your dress. 

His hair, a shocking silvery white color, was straight and pulled half back as it cascaded down his back and across his chest. It was much longer than most men keep their hair, and it was beautiful. 

The left half of his face was completely covered with an intimidating black mask that appeared to have a sapphire within it rather than a hole for the eye to see through. 

The right side of his face was bare and you marveled at the handsomeness of the sharp planes of his nose, cheekbones, jaw, and chin. 

His visible eye was a startling yet otherworldly gorgeous violet color. 

His smirking lips were plush and naturally curved upwards. 

You had never seen such unique beauty in a man. 

You were certain your expression was wonderstruck as you stared up at him. 

The next song began, a much slower melody, and he held you close to his warm body as he swayed you both to the beat of it. 

“I do not believe we have met,” you said primly as you attempted to muster up your wits. 

He smiled at you before he spun you. 

He caught you and pressed your back to his front. As he leaned down, his hair fell across your shoulder and his lips grazed your ear. 

You shivered in response as your eyes fluttered closed. 

His large hands spanned much of your waist and you covered his hands with your own, wishing to keep him close. 

“Are you certain of that?” he whispered in your ear. 

Your spine went rod straight, the hairs on the back of your neck stood, and you sucked in a gasping breath as you recognized the voice of the man that held you. 

He chuckled darkly, that laugh that you often heard in your dreams.

“I am not certain of much of anything anymore,” you breathed out. 

“Not even of my promises?” he teased as one hand moved further down your waist and the other up high enough that his thumb grazed the bottom of your breasts. 

Your breath hitched even as your eyes drifted closed once more and your head fell back against his shoulder. 

“You are the only thing I believe in anymore,” you murmured. 

“Hm,” he hummed in satisfaction at your words. 

One hand gripped your waist and the other slipped up your arm, across your collar bones to rest gently around your throat, as if his hand were another necklace to adorn you. 

“You are most beautiful this night, my sweet,” he purred. 

You breathed in his warm masculine scent and wished to stay in his arms forever. 

He spun you back around to face him and he caught you with hands around the small of your waist and your hands found their place on his chest. 

“You…you are much more handsome than all my wildest dreams. Why would you hide this face from me?” 

You could not look away from his gaze, it was as if he had a power to trap you with him, though you would never desire to escape him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek and did not miss the way it made him suck in a breath, as if he were just as affected by you as you were by him. 

You did not know how many songs had passed since you were in his arms, but you never wanted the music to end for fear of no longer being pressed against him. 

The entire room melted away and there was only you and your phantom made flesh as he danced with you to music of your own making. 

“There are things you do not know of, that I have made efforts to protect you from,” he answered you finally. 

You furrowed your brow in confusion and as you looked away, you realized it was the first time you had looked away from his face since he took you into his arms. 

You hadn’t realized that multiple songs had come and go and still he held you. You hadn’t realized that most of the eyes in the room were on you, curiously watching you and the mysterious man. 

“I have proof now of your existence. Tell me everything, or do you not wish to make me yours?” you asked as you looked back at him. 

He pursed his lips as he stared deep into your soul. 

“Of course I wish to make you mine,” he breathed out. 

He sounded just as entranced by you as you were with him. 

You reached up and softly grazed your fingers against his sharp cheekbone. 

“Then show me all of you, my phantom,” you whispered as your fingers curled around the edge of his mask. 

So enraptured by your touch and your presence it took him a moment longer than it should have to react and you had nearly removed the mask from his face and saw a flash of a jagged scar before he yanked himself back from you. 

He pulled the mask from your hand and covered the side of his face once again as he stepped back, his chest heaving with desperate breaths. 

You stumbled backwards from the momentum of his sudden movements, and strong hands from behind caught you and with a glance back you realized it was Lord Lannister. 

Your breathing was also heavy as you turned back and gazed upon the object of your affections in shock. 

Regret flashed in his eye, but he turned and quicker than you could think of anything to say, he disappeared into the large crowd and was soon gone. 

He was gone as quickly as he appeared and your eyes stung at the near rejection. 

“Are you alright?” Lord Lannister asked you and you realized his hands were still around your shoulders where he had caught you. 

“Yes, quite,” you said and the shakiness in your voice did nothing to assure either of you of the statement’s truthfulness. 

As your attention once again found the room around you, you then heard the hisses of angry whispers of the people around you. 

“Monster.” 

“Did you see that horrid scar?” 

“Why would she let him touch her?” 

“Disgusting.” 

“His eye….” 

“Recluse prince.” 

“Aemond Targaryen,” one man said and you whipped your head around to him. 

“What did you say?” you demanded. 

“My lady, that must have been Aemond Targaryen, the recluse prince. Only the gods know what would have caused him to slither out from his hiding place,” the old man said worriedly. 

You huffed and turned to leave. 

“Perhaps I should accompany you to your room to ensure you arrive there safely,” Lord Lannister offered. 

You nodded absentmindedly and took his proffered arm. 

As you exited the hall you let out a sigh of relief to be away from such a crowd of hateful and discontented Lords and Ladies. 

“I fear you put yourself in danger by dancing with such a man, my lady,” Lord Lannister finally said after he gave you several moments of quiet to collect yourself. 

“He meant me no harm,” you said softly. 

“You know nothing of his intentions,” the man said. 

Finally you reached your door. 

“Thank you, Lord Lannister, I appreciate your help and concern,” you said in an attempt to dismiss him. 

He nodded, and he clearly understood your message. 

“Goodnight, my lady,” he said. 

“Goodnight, my lord,” you replied and turned and walked into your room. 

You shut the door securely behind you before you slid to the floor and released the tears you had been holding back.  

You could no longer withhold the torrent of mixed emotions you felt that so overwhelmed you. 

You heard nothing from your ghost that night and as you fell into a fitful sleep, nightmares plagued you. 

You dreamt of a demon that chased you and all you could see of it were two sapphire colored eyes that glowed in the depth of darkness you were lost in. 

———————-

Your phantom did not find you for the next two days and despite being surrounded by people often, most frequently suitors who wished to woo you, you found yourself incredibly lonely. 

Each night when you entered your room you called out for him but only silence greeted you. 

By the third day you resolved yourself to try and move on. It was easier said than done. 

Now that you had actually met the man that belonged to the voice you idolized, it was much harder to prevent yourself from loving him.

It was as if he was in your head, had burrowed himself in your heart, captured your soul and held it in the palm of his hands. 

How were you supposed to just let go? 

You pondered on all these things as you attempted to relax in the bath in your chambers. 

Your father was pressuring you to make a decision soon. You were lucky that he even allowed you a say in who you would marry, though you knew he was partial to Lord Lannister. Thankfully, he agreed with your assessment that Lord Greyjoy was an absolute bore. 

He was not present at the masquerade when you danced with your phantom, but he had surely heard the gossip by now. 

It would not bode well for you. 

You wished to hear your ghost’s voice so desperately you feared you were hallucinating the sound. 

But there it was again, your name, said with such gentleness and care. 

“Are you really there?” you asked hopefully. 

“Yes, my sweet,” he said after a moment too long of silence. 

You sighed in relief. 

“I have missed you,” you said. 

“Truthfully?” he asked and there was vulnerability in his voice. 

“Of course,” you said passionately. 

He did not reply and you grew concerned he did not believe you. 

You were suddenly grateful for the suds and bubbles in the bathtub for fear he could see you. It was something you had never been self conscious about before, but now that you had seen the handsome man himself and knew he was real, you were more worried about what he had seen. 

Even still, you said, “Please do not hide from me any longer, I wish to see you when you speak to me.” 

“Why would you wish to see a monster?” he asked harshly. 

Your eyes prickled with tears at his pain. 

“I do not believe people’s words that you are a monster. You, who has protected me at every turn, are a good man,” you said gently. 

The oversized portrait beside your bed creaked and opened as if it were a door. 

You gasped as your phantom stood in the darkened entryway. 

A mask still adorned half his face, though this time it was white and interestingly there was still a sapphire embedded in it where his eye should be. 

You sunk lower into the bath and gripped its edges as you stared back at him. 

“You cannot believe that about a creature of such darkness,” he said. 

“I do. I rather like the dark,” you said and a small smirk showed on his beautiful lips. 

“Come closer,” you said as you reached your hand out to him. 

He walked slowly over to you and knelt next to the bathtub. 

You placed your hand gently on the side of his face and his eye fluttered closed while he took a shaky breath. 

“Your name,” you said, your voice soft and tentative. “Is it Aemond as some have speculated?” 

He made a pleased sound low in his throat as he nuzzled his face into your hand. 

He ran his nose across your palm and the veins at your wrist. 

Your heartbeat spiked. 

“You have no idea how long I have yearned to hear my name fall from your perfect lips, my sweet,” he murmured. 

Your breathing was heavy as you looked at your phantom, your angel, your Aemond. 

“Aemond, I apologize for attempting to unmask you in front of a room full of people. Truthfully, I forgot we were not the only two people in the world,” you said gently as your fingers traced his cheek and lips and soaked in the warmth of his skin. 

“Hm,” he hummed in pleasure. 

“Will you bare yourself to me now?” you asked. 

You wanted to add that it was only fair as you were currently mostly bare in front of him. 

Though the bath was a milky color from the soaps and scents, and suds still covered the surface, you were certain his all knowing eye could see much of your glistening wet skin. 

His eye blinked open and he looked at you, his gaze raw and full of emotion. 

The sound of knuckles rapping at your door broke your focus from him. 

“My lady?” your lady’s maid called out. 

You looked across the room to your door. 

He quickly stood and disappeared behind the portrait door once again without another word, as if he truly were a ghost. 

You sighed in frustration before you called out, “Yes? Come in.” 

“My lady, I forgot to bring you your fresh bed sheets, I am so sorry! I will only be a moment,” she said as she rushed to your bed. 

“It is quite alright, Reyna,” you reassured as her anxieties often became too high. 

She smiled at you and quickly started her task. 

You sunk lower into the now cold bath and cursed your rotten luck. 

———————-

Your father ran out of patience and betrothed you to Lord Lannister. 

You sat at the celebratory feast and tried not to look too sullen. 

When the queen congratulated you, you flinched slightly, now that you knew it was her son you were so desperately in love with you felt even more guilty. 

You worried the news would break him. 

Even still, you did your best to be graceful and poised as many people offered you their excitement on your happy news. 

You didn’t mind Lord Lannister, truthfully, but he did not bewitch your very soul as Aemond Targaryen did. 

There was a commotion that caught your attention, a fire had started in the opposite end of the grand hall. 

You gasped and watched as the men rushed to put it out. 

A hand grasped your wrist and began to tug you backwards. 

Your eyes widened in surprise as your phantom pulled you into the nearby darkened hallway. 

A mask still covered half his face and his expression was hard. 

He pressed your back against the cold stone wall with the weight of his body against yours. 

Your breath sped and your heartbeat spiked. 

Not from fear, no, from the feel of the long planes of his warm body against yours. 

He placed a hand against the wall on either side of your head and caged you in. 

“Do you wish to marry him?” he asked. 

“No,” you breathed out, your focus again on his lips as he spoke. 

He leaned down so his lips grazed your ear and asked, “What do you desire?” 

You shivered. 

“You,” you practically moaned as your eyes closed. 

He hauled his body off yours and you whimpered softly at the loss of his warmth. 

He smirked. 

“Then wait for me, I shall come for you, my sweet. I promise,” he said and you quickly nodded in agreement. 

He turned his head to look back down the hallway at the great hall. 

His hair swished as he moved and you longed to run your fingers through the white silken strands. 

“They have most likely put out the fire by now. Go before you are missed,” he said. 

“Alright,” you said, and before you tore yourself away from him you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

He hummed in pleasure and you attempted to memorize the sound, beautiful as it was, just like everything about him. 

When you reentered the great hall, the chaos was settling and no one had noticed your brief absence, not even your betrothed. 

———————-

Most afternoons you could be found in your favorite secluded corner of the library. 

Unfortunately, your betrothed knew that and often interrupted your reading. 

Today however, you were blissfully alone as you reread your favorite book. 

Sunlight filtered through the nearby window and bathed you and your novel in a warm glow. 

A cup of tea and a little snack were long forgotten as the plot enraptured you and you curled up into a plush armchair. 

A whisper of your name slid through the contented air and alerted you to the presence of another. 

“Aemond?” you whispered back. 

“Come with me,” he crooned. 

You turned and saw him. He had revealed another secret hallway, this time hidden by a bookshelf. 

His beauty was otherworldly and you felt as if you were in a trance as you set your book down, stood, and walked towards him. 

You took his hand and allowed him to lead you into the dark and watched as he shut the bookshelf door behind you.  

He lifted a torch off the stone wall and held it before the both of you, though you suspected it was only for your benefit. 

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

The thought occurred to you that you should have asked before you followed him, but logic was never your strong suit when it came to decisions about your phantom. 

You could never resist his pull. 

“To show you more of myself,” he said. 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

You walked through winding corridors until he stopped at another portrait-door. Though, this time your view of it was from the inside. 

He opened it, stepped down himself, and then with hands on your waist, helped you navigate the large step down. 

Though, he stood so close that your body practically slid down the length of his as you did so. 

With your hands on his strong shoulders you stared at him. 

His gaze flickered down to your lips and for a moment, an excruciating wonderful moment, you thought he might kiss you. 

But he released you and took a step back, his breaths as rapid as your own. 

With him not right in front of you, you could see the room you stood in. 

It was dark, the dark curtains drawn completely so as to not allow any light within. 

Candelabras adorned the furniture to offer the light your eyes so desperately needed. 

It was also clearly the room of a prince, grand and ornately decorated. 

Black and emerald green silk covered the large canopy bed. 

The other decorations matched his chosen colors. 

You slipped from his hands and walked around the room, your fingers traced the surfaces as you took it all in. 

It was all so Aemond. But there were pieces of you as well. 

A vase full of your favorite flowers. Stacks of your favorite novels were on both his bedside table and his desk. They were mixed with books you did not recognize, ones that must be his favorites. 

Crumpled papers took up space on the desk, with your name scrawled at the top of the one on a stack of blank papers, as if he had been trying to write you a letter.

There was an easel with paint supplies in front of the window, finished paintings leaned against the wall, turned around so you could not see them. 

The painting drying on the easel, however, was of you. You gasped softly. 

It was a romantic view of you in the bath as you had been the other night, and there was such love and tenderness in your face as you looked at the viewer of the portrait, the painter of the portrait, truthfully. 

There was a halo of light around your body, every stretch of your skin that was visible had a brightness about it, the more intimate parts of your body covered by the water in the bath.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you realized this is how he viewed you. An angel, just the same as you perceived him. 

He was your angel of darkness and you were his angel of light. 

“Oh Aemond,” you breathed out. 

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that many of the completed paintings you could not see were of you as well. 

You knew the reality of what you saw, this was not just love, it was obsession. 

Logically, you should be scared, but you could not bring yourself to be anything but flattered. 

There was a mirror in the corner, but it was covered by black cloth as if he did not wish to see himself, your heart cracked at the thought.

He had been watching you warily as you explored his space and learned more about him. 

“I want you to know the reality of what you would be getting into if you choose me, my sweet. A life of darkness with someone most consider a monster,” he said as he leaned against the wall and looked down at the floor. 

You strode towards him and placed a hand on his cheek and led him to look at you. 

“That is your version of reality? In my reality I see a kindhearted man who cares for me deeply and is offering me a life of affection. I do not care for others' opinions and would like to help you heal from the hurt they have inflicted,” you said quietly and tenderly. 

He breathed out in surprise and brought you closer, so you were pressed against him. 

“You say such kind words but you have not seen all of me, you do not know why others fear me. There is more darkness to me than you know,” he said lowly, but still he moved his face closer and nudged his nose against yours. 

“Then show me,” you begged once again, “and let me accept you completely.” 

His lips were so close to yours that you could almost feel them. 

You ached for him, had ached for him for so long, that you lost yourself, your self control, and leaned up to brush your lips against his. 

But, he pulled back right before your lips were able to meet. 

You let out a shuddering breath, same as he did as he pulled his face back enough to look at you. 

He intertwined his fingers with yours and lifted your hand to the mask he wore. 

With a slight nod he gave you permission to remove it from his face but still said, “Are you certain? This would bring you past the point of no return.” 

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” you said fervently as you stared at him with your heart in your throat. 

He swallowed and dropped his hand from yours to let you finally take off the mask. 

You gently curled your fingers around the edges and his eye fluttered closed, another indication of his nervousness, as if he could not handle seeing your expression once you saw him. 

You slowly pulled it off and revealed the other half of his face. 

A long jagged scar stretched from above his eye down across his cheek. 

Instead of a left eye, there was a sapphire in place of where his eye should be. 

You realized you were mistaken before when you thought that the mask held the sapphire, it was in fact a replacement to the eye that was missing. 

Though the scar marred his skin, it did not take away from his handsomeness. You could understand how the scar and sapphire eye could intimidate others, but you could not understand how anyone could describe him as a monster. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured as you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb across the scar. 

His eye fluttered open and as he looked at you, his perfect lips parted in shock. You knew he felt that the disfigurement was a reflection of his soul and expected rejection. Though he had subjected himself to the potential rejection anyway, because of his feelings for you. 

“You cannot mean that,” he said and the words broke your heart. 

You kissed his cheek, his scar, right below the sapphire eye and he gasped softly. 

“My phantom, my protector, my Aemond,” you said as you trailed your lips across his cheek, across the length of the scar. 

“I absolutely mean it,” you said passionately and he groaned as he, at long last, pressed his lips to yours. 

His plush lips were soft as he pressed them firmly against yours. 

He made a low pleased hum as your lips moved against his and you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

It was not the sort of kiss that sparked a fiery passion, no, it was slower moving than that, deeper. The kind of kiss that changed the both of you intricately, completely, eternally. 

The kiss molted the love within you and him like lava and fuzed your souls together. 

When you pulled back and ended the kiss he said, “I love you, completely, my angel of light.” 

“And I love you, darkness and all,” you replied and kissed him once more. 

———————-

The day of your wedding to Lord Lannister had arrived and you were a bundle of nerves. 

Aemond had sworn to you that you would not have to go through with this wedding. He assured you that he would make you his and his alone. 

You believed him, you just did not realize that he would wait until the last minute to do so. 

Your lady’s maid Reyna cinched up your wedding gown as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 

Your expression was sullen and you felt as if you were being readied for your funeral. 

Aemond would intervene as he promised, right? 

You had tried to talk to your father, to make him understand where your feelings lay, what your heart desired, but he refused to listen. 

“You look beautiful, my lady,” Reyna said as she finished prepping you and stepped back to view her work. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. 

“What is wrong?” she asked as she took your hands. 

You shook your head and refused to let your eyes fill with tears. 

You must believe in your phantom’s promise, he had protected you at every turn and you had to believe him that he would do so now. 

“Lord Lannister seems kind,” Reyna said gently. 

You nodded. 

“Yes. Yes he does,” you agreed as you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. 

Your father arrived and escorted you to the sept. 

The sept was grand as always, and as it was sunset, lit completely with hundreds of candles. 

A large crowd of lords and ladies filled the room and watched you as you walked towards a future of shackles. 

Your heart plummeted as you saw Lord Lannister there waiting for you. 

He smiled at you as your father walked you towards him, escorted you towards a loveless life. You could not force yourself to smile back. Your breath was short and it felt as if there was a weight on your chest. Your legs shook as you walked and finally you stood before Lord Lannister and the septon. 

The Septon cleared his throat and the crowd’s murmurs and whispers hushed and it was suddenly all too quiet. 

You could hear the pounding of your own heart. 

The septon opened his mouth to speak, to begin the ceremony, when another booming voice filled the sept. 

“I object to this marriage. This woman is spoken for. She belongs to me,” the voice of your ghost echoed through the room, through your very soul. 

You gasped in relief. 

The sept doors blew open by an unexpected and terrifying gust of wind that blew out all the candles and thrust the grand room into darkness. 

There were gasps of horror and shock as well as screams in fear. 

You grinned. 

“This wedding is over,” the voice announced and you whipped your head around as you realized where the origin of the sound was. 

The phantom of the Red Keep stood behind the Septon. 

A fire suddenly lit behind him, illuminating him, and another round of gasps and screams began. 

Aemond stood, presence intense and intimidating, dressed all in black. He wore nothing to cover his scar and sapphire eye. 

Your body moved of its own accord and you managed to take one step towards him, when an arm gripped you around your waist and hauled you backwards. 

Lord Lannister shoved you behind him and pulled out his sword. 

He pointed it at Aemond. You lurched forward, but he held you back with his arm. 

Aemond quickly pulled out his own sword. 

The septon scrambled away. 

Guards began to stream into the sept, but the fire spread, as if controlled, and circled around the three of you, and kept everyone away. 

“You have no claim on this woman! She is my betrothed!” Lord Lannister yelled. 

Aemond smirked, a devilish sort of smile. 

“That is certainly not true, is it, my sweet? I have a strong claim on you, do I not?” Aemond asked you as he leaned to the side to meet your eyes around his enemy’s body. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, entranced by his presence. 

Lord Lannister whipped his head around to look at you in shock. 

“He is a monster. Let me save you from him. I am your chosen hero, remember?” he said fervently. 

You shook your head. 

“He is my protector, I tried to tell you this before. My heart belongs to him,” you replied. 

“No,” he said angrily and shook his head. 

“No,” he repeated himself, “you will not whore yourself out to this vile demon. You are my betrothed.” 

He attacked your love. You gasped as they crossed swords and the sound of clanging steel echoed. 

You stepped back, as close as you could get to the edge of the circle of fire without burning yourself, and did not know what to do. 

Others watched the fight through the fire, helpless to assist, and did nothing but spectate. 

The men fought and it was clear that despite Aemond’s missing eye, he was the superior skilled swordfighter. 

You felt powerless to help. The fight did not last long, for Aemond soon sliced a shallow cut across Lord Lannister’s chest and then disarmed him. 

He held the tip of his sword to his opponent’s throat as he breathed heavily and gritted his teeth. Hate gleamed in his one good eye and you knew your betrothed represented all the hate and suffering Aemond had endured since his eye was so savagely taken. 

“Stop,” you gasped. 

He turned his head to meet your gaze and the look in his eye softened. 

“You do not have to kill him,” you said, “just take me. Let us be together. Let us leave this place behind.” 

He pursed his lips, a war fought inside his mind, before he nodded and removed his sword from Lord Lannister’s throat even as he kicked the other sword away so it would be completely out of reach. 

You ran to him and threw yourself in his arms. 

He kept his sword pointed at your former betrothed, but hugged you back with his other arm. 

Lord Lannister held up his hands and nodded, conceding and admitting his defeat. 

Aemond turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I want it to be known here and now that this woman did choose me willingly. Though I know you will indeed ignore my words, there need be no monster hunt, she and I wish to leave peacefully,” Aemond announced. 

The crowd stared in shock as you pulled his face down for a passionate kiss. 

Your love raged like the fire that surrounded you. 

He was yours and you were his. 

“Take me,” you begged him as your lips broke apart. 

The last thing you saw was the uptilt of his lips into a smirk before the room was plunged into darkness and then there was only the sensation of falling. 

You splashed into deep water and strong hands pulled you up. 

“We must hurry,” your lover said as he helped you swim. 

You looked up and as the ceiling closed above you, you could see that the entire sept seemed to have lit up in flames once more. 

He led you to the edge of the canal and hauled you up out of the water. 

He lit a torch he found on the wall and you could finally see. 

“It will take them some time to put out the fire, but they will follow us as soon as they can,” Aemond said to you in a hushed and hurried tone as he helped you step into a small boat that floated upon the water. He handed you the torch and you held it as you took your seat and settled. 

He soon followed and took the oars and rowed as quickly and powerfully as he could, his strength evident in the action. 

He navigated the canals effectively and knew which turns to take in the winding and confusing darkness. 

You stared at him as he did so and admired your phantom in the flickering light. 

His hair was wet, his lips set in a hard and determined line, and the sapphire glimmered and gleamed. 

You loved him, you wanted him, you were joyously happy he had saved you from a life you despised. 

You smiled. 

His gaze flickered to yours and he raised an eyebrow at you. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“I love you,” you said quietly but strongly. 

He smiled. A real, full smile, not a smirk or a half smile, a real full smile in which his lips stretched and you could see his teeth. 

“And I love you, my sweet,” he eventually replied, the moment heavy with emotion. 

“Thank you, for protecting me, my guardian angel,” you whispered. 

He shook his head.

“Thank me when we are actually safe in our destination,” he said. 

“Where is our destination?” you asked. You did not truly care about the answer, anywhere safe with him was perfect to you. 

“There is an estate in the countryside owned by the Hightowers, my mother’s family, that has been gifted to us by my mother. Some sort of recompense for all I have endured from my father’s family, I suppose. We shall have to pretend to be Hightowers and it will be a simpler life than you are used to in King’s Landing, but it will be safe and I will protect you. I hope you find that suitable,” he said softly. 

“Of course,” you said, “a life with you is all I desire.”

He smiled once more and it was your favorite sight in all the world. 

“Good, I have arranged for a septon to be waiting there to wed us. If all goes well it will only be a few days' journey and then you will well and truly be my wife.”

You grinned and placed your hand on his knee as he continued to row. It took all your self control not to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until neither of you could breathe anymore. 

“I could not imagine anything more perfect, my love,” you replied.

The canals eventually deposited the two of you into the entrance of a river on the outskirts of the city. 

Aemond climbed out of the boat and quickly helped you do the same. 

Thankful for the cover of darkness, he snuck you to a stable where two horses awaited you both. 

He pulled clothes out of the packed saddle bags and handed you a bundle. 

“Can you help me?” you asked as you turned your back to him. 

You heard a shuddering breath. 

“Of course,” he said and began to unlace your wedding dress. He slowly pulled at the laces, and his fingers brushed your skin as he did so. You shivered, and you were not certain if it was from the cold air or desire for the ghost that stood behind you. 

You slipped out of it and turned back to face him. 

His gaze was dark and intense once again. 

Your heartbeat stuttered. 

Then you heard distant shouting, you were still being pursued. 

“We must hurry,” he urged. 

You swallowed your disappointment and nodded even as you began to remove the rest of your clothes. 

He walked to the other side of the horses, to hide you from his view, and allowed you to finish changing. 

You pulled on the new clothes, and realized he had picked out peasant clothes a man would wear, most likely to make you both as inconspicuous as possible. 

You pulled on the fresh underclothes, the trousers and boots, and then the loose white shirt. 

He rounded the horses, already fully changed with an eyepatch over his sapphire eye. 

Your breath caught as he knelt before you and began to tie the laces of your boots. 

You bit your lip as you watched him. 

His nimble fingers moved quickly as he laced both shoes then stood to his full height before you. 

He then laced up the front of your shirt, to hide your breasts, and his hands grazed them as he did so. 

Your breathing was heavy as you watched him. 

He nodded in satisfaction with his work then pulled two cloaks out of the saddle bags as well. 

He pulled his cloak on and then helped you with yours. 

Your hands caught his and you could not help yourself. 

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. 

He huffed in amusement before he pulled you in for a brief but firm kiss. 

“Aemond, please,” you begged as he pulled back. 

He gripped your waist and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I will make you mine and give you everything you desire, my love,” he promised, “but you must exercise patience. We need to hurry, our lives are still at stake.” 

You sighed and nodded. 

He pulled your hood over your head and then tied his hair back and did the same. 

With strong hands on your waist he helped you climb atop your horse and then mounted his own. 

With the click of his tongue, he urged his horse forward and you followed his lead. 

Soon, both your horses were galloping and you left the horror of King’s Landing far behind. 

You journeyed into the darkness, but felt assured that there was light at the end of your travels for your phantom was there with you, and you would be together, forever, as you both desired, as was right. 

You loved the man, the ghost, the so-called monster beside you. You loved your protector, the man who had maimed and killed for you, who guided you through the deepest darkness. 

He was your angel, your salvation, the rest of your life. 

He was yours and you were his, forever. 

All was finally right in the world.

[jtl07]

Hi! Am I late to my favorite thing?! I love JT shenanigans 👏🏼📝 But first: the theater au is a really cool idea! I can totally picture the situation, haha. Of course Bea knows all the lines. And wow, the boat prompt 🔥 Okay here comes my prompt: fitness center + «oops my bad»

not late at all! and so glad you like the college theater au - more to come on that soon i hope 🤞

now to your prompt: my mind immediately went to i see you clearly now (i hold you dearly now) particularly this bit:

Beatrice [...] working out at the gym (Beatrice had gently suggested that Ava stay at home after causing a scene that Ava still blames Beatrice for - anyone with eyes would have had the same reaction to you doing hip thrusts, Bea -

(actually, @ant-heia i'm pretty sure you made a comment about this line lol)

so what if we noodle what this scene could've looked like? as in: Ava, still unseen, following along when Beatrice goes to the gym...

[under the cut because it got a little rambly lol]

Ava's not gonna lie: not having a body sucks.

it sucks because she can feel the sun but not really, she can move things but only so much, she can speak but not at times that she can control or predict - all they've figured out so far is that it isn't something they can fix.

and yeah, she misses how it feels like to stretch out on the bed after a good night's rest, misses how it feels like to sleep at all. she misses basking in the sun, misses even the way sweat collects in all those weird places on a hot day.

she misses too: having boobs.

but at least there's Bea's boobs. now, to be clear: Ava does her best to give Beatrice privacy in the apartment, makes sure to be go into the living room or the kitchen when Beatrice is changing or using the bathroom. and she makes sure then whenever she's looking, to only look with the utmost of respect - which is what she's absolutely doing now, tucked into a corner away from the flow of gym folks, the spandex and various levels of undress going unnoticed as she focuses solely on Beatrice's form - the flush on her cheeks, the steadiness of her form, the subtle bounce of her chest with every step she takes as she finishes her warmup on the treadmill.

Ava makes sure to be at Beatrice's side when she steps down from the machine, sees her smile as she registers her presence. and really, that's the only thing that makes this all bearable - Beatrice and her gentleness, her cleverness; the sense of togetherness they've built despite and in spite of Ava's state of being. because to bear witness to Beatrice's life, to live with her even now - it's a gift, even as she is.

and if Ava can be completely honest: witnessing Beatrice at the gym is the best gift she could have ever received.

if she still had her body, she'd have melted by now, watching -respectfully! - as Beatrice works the different muscles of her body, focused and deliberate, grace and power in every move. (and if Ava brushes her hand along the curve of Beatrice's bicep, her shoulder, the outside of her thigh - that's between her and the quiet smirk Beatrice gives her in return.)

she's memorized Beatrice's routine by now so when Beatrice diverts to a bench with a barbell in her hands, she frowns. "you're gonna do another round of chest presses?" Ava asks, confused especially with the lack of a weight rack. while she can help spot Beatrice if she needs assistance, they won't be able to explain a barbell seemingly floating in midair.

"no," Beatrice murmurs and Ava steps back, tucks herself again out of the way as she watches Beatrice carefully sets herself up, sitting on the floor perpendicular to the bench, barbell at her hips, feet braced. Ava has no idea what to expect when Beatrice takes that deep breath she always does before she begins a set and lifts -

Ava swears she passes out.

when she comes to, the first thing she sees is the near panic on Beatrice's face, an expression Ava hates and instantly surges forward to abate with a touch at Beatrice's wrist. "i'm here," Ava says, and feels Beatrice instantly relax.

"are you alright?" she asks, her brow lined with worry. if Ava still had a face, she'd frown (she misses that too, making faces, feeling her feelings on her face) because of course she's alright, she's invisible, nothing can hurt her while she's like this.

then she notices Beatrice's gaze shift to the side - and finally sees the cause for her concern: the long line of dumbbell stands where Ava had been hovering, now overturned like dominoes.

"oops," is all Ava can manage as Beatrice makes a sound that sounds like a sigh and a laugh wrapped in one, "my bad."

[blixabargelds]

for the wip ask game! star first time please? love your writing!

hiii thank you !! ok so this is a part of ‘superstar’ which is an absolutely huge clegan punk au im writing w my friend (they’re writing john pov i’m writing gale) and when i say huge i mean. we have about 45k of plan alone rn and about 16 actual fics and scenes within fics drafted. it’s huge. it’s my baby it’s taken over my whole life. who knows if we will ever post it kgkjkk but like. i am always accepting any questions on it or will post bits or ramble abt it for hours n days to anyone who will listen it’s so big and so special to me

warning: a very central theme is severe addiction. it gets pretty dark. and then better! but doesn’t hit better for a while lol. it’s written from a place of personal knowledge and is not glamourising addiction (trust me, there’s about 700 disasters in just one arc). this however is the first time gale does heroin and from his pov and uh. it feels famously pretty good at first so. he’s glamourising it for a moment i guess lmfao ~~~~

“Shh,” John soothes. He takes his hand from Gale’s jaw, circling two fingers over the tiny hole he left in the tender crook of Gale’s arm, pressing down just hard enough for him to hiss. It slows his mind a little. His heartbeat calms just a bit. John lifts his arm, brushing his lips to the needle’s mark, speaking softly into Gale’s inner elbow. “You’re okay. Listen. Hear it rush in your ears, doll. That’s heaven calling.”

Gale swallows. He takes a deep breath, and shuts his eyes.

Warmth begins to spread throughout his body; building from his heart outward. He opens his eyes again, looks at John, and suddenly he’s slipping underwater. Something is gradually curling in the base of his spine, making him breathless.

“God,” he whispers.

John grins. “There it is.”

John pulls Gale close and kisses him. Gale opens up wide, letting John slide his tongue into his mouth, and as Gale returns the hot, wet pressure with his own tongue he can feel his limbs growing heavy. He wants to laugh. He moans into John’s mouth. He wants to press further; see what else John can glide into all parts of him. He’s starting to feel dizzy. John pulls back from their kiss and studies his face. He’s smiling. Raw and genuine, like Gale hasn’t seen for weeks.

“Missed you,” Gale says, somewhat nonsensically.

“You’re with me now, baby,” says John. “You made it here to me.”

[average-hyperfixator]

Chat did you know I can actually do au work and not just procrastinate???

Some info for Ted, specifically pertaining to my “Human” AM AU. (Some of these are headcanons I hold for the character in general though lol) sorry for any typos it’s a long post and I’m tired 🙏

While Ted remains in the most pristine physical condition in comparison to the rest, his mind is in a constant state of fear and paranoia. AM has kept him in such good condition to feed into the general paranoia of “Everyone here hates me because I’m the least affected, they’re going to do something horrible to me oh my god they’re gonna hurt me” that Ted possess. Each of the five is his own personal experiment, Ted’s experiment boils down too “how paranoid can I make this pathetic man?”

He has deep sunken eye bags from not sleeping out of fear of what the others would do to him. He has scars, bruises and open wounds on his lips from biting them all these decades, and his fingers are in a similar state from him picking at them anxiously. The soles of his shoes are even more worn down compared to the others, due to his slow pace, his running from the group, and his pacing in circles while mumbling paranoid rambles to himself.

Some of the 5 were jealous of Ted at the start, but after seeing how quickly his mind slipped that jealousy quickly faded to pity and mild concern.

Ted’s past is what really contributed to him being the most paranoid about Ellen, he always fears that she’ll use him, that she’ll lull him into a false sense of security so the others could harm him. Ellen of course would never do this but Ted doesn’t know that. Thus, he’s the most far removed from the only one there that might be able to comfort him. Listen, him getting groomed by an older woman in his backstory doesn’t really help his view on women as a whole- (srsly tho WHY did an older woman go for a 19 year old Ted 😭 I DO NOT CARE if she’s rich get her AWAY FROM HIMMMM!!!)

Small side note- he has a handful of anxious stims, lip biting, skin picking, pacing, talking to himself, if he’s being particularly overwhelmed (usually by one of the five) he’ll flap his arms/hands spastically, he’s even pulled out a few handfuls of hair but that habit died out after the first or so decade.

Some extra art of him being silly

(I said I’d tag you so ahhh @shakespearean-dream)