#ive just been politely ignoring all the shit he's done

[watery-melon-baller]

I can't be too mean to him because we're in the same program and we have classes together until we graduate. I don't think he will react poorly if I turn him down but also I don't wanna risk anything so. most of this is advice from my friends if you have any other ideas feel free to contribute

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warning; This chapter includes:

Mentions of underage SA, inappropriate treatment of underage characters, violence

Word Count ~ 5k+

Author's note • Expanding upon that warning; prepare for Aegon being Aegon. Also I have not edited this shit, I wrote it in like a 10k block of writing. I ain't got no fucken time for that atm.

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

v ~ 'Nameday'

123 AC

Prince Aemond heard the muffled sighs of his elder brother Prince Aegon, who did little to hide his disinterest during the Lady Laena’s funeral rites. He’d grimaced at the way he found out his cousin had perished, though he supposed at least she went out as a dragon rider and not some writhing woman at the mercy of the Maesters. As he gazed over the detailed carving of her coffin, his mind drifted to just how she might look in there, probably burnt to a fine, gruesome crisp – and the babe probably resembled a lump of roasted meat more than a child. Aemond shook his head at the thought, wishing to gag at the mere notion of it. His mind drifted in and out as the funeral rites rattled on, yet he couldn’t help but notice the rumbling of Lady Laenor’s mount in the skies above. His attention was once again quickly captured by the Queen, his mother, Alicent Hightower pinching the sides of Prince Aegon as he sighed again. His elder brother let out a soft wince, and Aemond smirked to himself before feeling the soft eyes of his elder sister Princess Helaena upon him. Her face was aloof, her eyes neither narrow nor wide as she gazed at him for a moment – her silver curls seemingly white in the light of the overcast sky.

Helaena looked away, uninterested and Aemond could not help but to feel rising sparks of envy every time he gazed at his sister. Not only for how unaware she seemed, but also of her recent betrothal to their elder brother Prince Aegon. He was far more worthy for a betrothal than Aegon, no it was a match which his elder brother surely would not fail to let go to absolute waste. How could drunkard, lecherous Aegon be wedded in their tradition, and Aemond merely used as whatever political pawn his parents pleased? Was he truly that unimportant? Why should Aegon be worthy of Helaena’s hand and not he? Aemond did not wish for some gossiping Lady of the court, he deserved a wife worthy of him, worthy of a dragon’s blood. The fact remained that even if Prince Aegon was one day to be King, he was still unworthy in Aemond’s mind, in fact he had been secretly hoping their mother would suggest he and Helaena be betrothed in order to solidify Aemond making for a greater claim when the time came. For why would his mother wish for Aegon to be on the throne and not he, why would Alicent not see Aegon was insufficient and make it, so his claim was far less preferred of Aemond’s? The young Prince knew who sat on the Iron Throne was merely a matter of who men see the most beneficial, surely his mother could not be so stupid as to not see how everyone regarded his elder brother as a useless lech.

His blood boiled at the thought of all of it, at Aegon, his mother, his brother’s betrothal – yet as his eyes wandered upon the funeral guests he came across another infuriating sight he had done well to ignore thus far. Princess Visenya.  Aemond looked over to her, Visenya stood beside her mother Rhaneyra, the young princess kept her eyes glued to Lady Laena’s coffin. He scanned her for a moment, yet she did not seem to notice his gaze as small tears ran down her pale face. Aemond felt himself struck for a moment, gazing at his niece and perhaps for the first time, noticing her properly. He felt himself cringe at the thought, though when the Princess was not speaking, or vexing – she seemed to be rather, fair. His mind turned to what he considered a dark place as he gazed upon his niece, taking in the fact she was indeed the picture of a Valyrian princess. If she weren’t so unbearable perhaps he would not refuse a betrothal to her. Visenya was indeed a rather pretty girl, even for her age, though a tad taller than he. Regardless, she was a Targaryen as he, and all the great Targaryen men seemingly had Valyrian blooded wives. Why should he go without? It was not like he had to have affections for her, all they had to do was perform their duty and Aemond had grown most comfortable with doing so in the pursuit of his own gain.

Yet… that is what troubled the young prince all the same as he narrowed his gaze upon the young Princess, Visenya, was probably a bastard, and an irritating one at that, but still worthy she may be. And though it bothered him terribly, she was of pure Targaryen blood, and her poorly held tongue proved as such. Mayhap she could probably be kept like a doll, if he was to wed her, he thought in jest. But the thought lingered more than he wished it to, and as he continued to wonder he thought for as long as did what she was told, upheld their duty, and remained comely, she might be far more ideal wife for him than a woman he hardly knew.

He shook his head at the thought, reminding himself that Princess Visenya was nothing more than a stupid, vapid girl and that she had oft taken pleasure in her brother’s tormenting him. They were nothing alike anyway, the princess liked frivolous and superficial things, she enjoyed jewels and pretty gowns. Cakes too… he was positive she enjoyed sweets. At every family supper at King’s Landing, he had watched with disgust as she masticated any meat or vegetable that befell her, often spitting it out crudely. Yet, when desert came she would gorge herself on puddings and fruits – much to his disgust too. The prince was surprised her teeth hadn’t rotted from her mouth, though he supposed she must have some sort of tonic or salve from the Maesters to keep her teeth like pearls. No, of course, no consequence would dare befall her for her own gluttony, she would never allow it. If there was one thing to be noted about Princess Visenya, it was how little she resembled their great ancestor Queen Visenya. No, the young princess was no warrior, no woman of hard will or brute force. The princess was weak, easily tempted, and most of all terribly vain, he thought. Aemond had once caught her admiring her reflection upon the small pond in the garden’s once, he had the mind to push her in. His mind dwelled and battled with itself as he thought of her, and he supposed she would not make a terrible wife if she did not speak. Though that was another problem, the princess lacked the tact to keep her thoughts to herself. Mayhap he could get her mouth sewn shut; Prince Aemond stifled a smirk as the image entered his mind.

As the moments passed, Aemond shuddered at the realization of how much he actually knew of her, how much he thought of her… why was he thinking of her? Disgust then rage filled him, no… no…twas her fault, not his. Her fault for being so utterly dreadful that he loathed her to the point of dwelling on her! Her stupid sad face, her lips pouting as though she truly felt sorry for her Lady Laena. It was all just artifice, all just an act to appear as though she had any morals in that blackened soul of hers.

 ●

Lady Laena’s funeral came and went in a horrid flash, Visenya had all but ran to her half-sister’s Baela and Rhaena upon seeing them again, taking them both in her arms tightly as the two younger girls both wept softly. She had spent most of the repast with her sisters, and of course, shadowing her half-brothers. Visenya watched the gloom on Jacaerys face glaze his eyes, every time she swore a tear would form it would be quickly concealed by the wiping of his hand or shaking of his head.

The Princess had soon taken refuge by the shores of Driftmark, her gaze drifting upon the yellowed sand, the gray sea which brushed gently up upon the rocks. Her mind dwelling on her father, how his eyes softened as quickly as they hardened. Her heart aching with that familiar pang of longing for a life she simply did not have. Something Visenya oft tried to suppress with the joys of material goods, though futile it proved as time and time again she was left with that familiar empty sensation she couldn't quite name.

As she continued upon the edge of the rock pools, she came across a familiar sight looking up to the skies above at the mourning Vhagar. Silver hair contrasting a green cloak; Aemond.

Cautiously she approached him as he continued to look upwards at Vhagar, he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching him, he slowly turned his gaze towards the young princess. A small scoff was heard to escape from him as Aemond crossed his arms, looking back at the sky. "What do you want? Are you here to shove me once more?"

She paused and looked up to the mournful cries above, the dark silhouette of Vhagar lining the gray clouds, “Not if you are not so rude as to grab at me again.” Visenya retorted back, her gaze finding the back of his head.

Aemond merely rolled his eyes at her words, he continued to stare up at the sky, not daring to look at her. She did not deserve his attention, not after their previous encounter all those weeks ago. The prince had a small frown upon his face as he kept his arms crossed. "What is it that you want? You must want something from me, if you've come to seek me out."

She scoffed and raised her brow, "I did not come for you. I came to seek solace away from the funeral. How was I to know you would be here... lurking?" Her voice crooning, he was always creeping in the shadows she thought.

The small smirk that had been upon Aemond’s face vanished, he turned swiftly, his tone sharp as that familiar annoyance within him bloomed. He shot Visenyal a cold look and took a step towards her, grumbling out his words, "I was not lurking! I was here just to think, I had already been here well before you graced me with your presence."

Visenya let out a vexing chuckle, her look incredulous as she smirked, “I doubt that. You probably came down here to scour for some helpless sea creatures to torment.”

He looked at her with a huff, it was like she had read his mind for he had indeed been looking for creatures to torment. The prince’s eyes glanced down to her with an unyielding stare. "And so what if I did? The creatures are weak, they are nothing to me or to you. They might as well be servants for me to command." He had taken a step towards her and Aemond's cold stormy eyes were met with Visenya's smirk, as if she was not the least intimidated by him.

Visenya opened her mouth as her expression coiled with disgust, she didn’t expect him to admit to such cruelty, "Ugh. I do wonder what exactly went wrong with you and your siblings. If it is not Helaena whispering to spiders, or Aegon accosting serving girls - it is you sulking around and toiling with the lives of helpless creatures. Truly... the lot of you are so strange."

The princess shook her head, stepping back from him as though he were riddled with disease, and in some ways she supposed he was. Not of the flesh of course, but of the mind. Certainly, it was the spawn of Alicent’s Hightower blood, crafty and cunning intertwining with the blood of the dragon that left the Green children terribly abnormal.

The cold look on Aemond's face morphed into one of anger as his eyes darkened at her words. How dare she insult him? How dare she? Anger took hold within him like no other as Aemond took another step towards his niece before him, standing in front of her now. "What did you just say to me? I will not listen to the likes of you spewing harsh words of my family!" His voice darkened, Aemond's hands balled into a fist, his knuckles turning white in the process.

Small waves crashed upon the rock pool as Visenya stepped back, raising her brow in judgment, "Calm yourself. Twas only a jest."

Aemond's eyes darkened, even more, his jaw clenched tightly. "That was not a mere jest. Do not tell me to calm myself! Do not presume to speak of my family, what do you even know of us regardless? Nothing but your own mindless little judgements it seems." He felt himself grow overwhelmed once again, she was so utterly irritating, how could he ever have thought to maybe wed her? Even despite the use of Dragon riding heirs, Visenya was not worth it.

"Now you defend them? You have spent half our youth complaining about Aegon for one?" Visenya smiled smugly and chuckled, her gaze upon her uncle sharp.

"I complain about him because it is the truth, but he is still my brother, my blood. Something you would know little about, niece." His words came out through clenched teeth, Aemond could feel his anger growing, his blood boiling under his skin with every sly smirk and sharp jest.  Yet the prince fought to keep his composure in front of her, for would not succumb to Visenya’s vexing.

The anger finally won over Aemond, and a smirk was now plastered on his face. "Do you want me to say it then? The truth we have all been barred from speaking?" His voice filled with a callousness beyond the likes she had seen, a spite that surprised him.

Suddenly, a bitter air fell between them. Visenya wanted to lunge, wanted to grab his vile little tongue and pull it from his stupid little mouth before she looked down, tempering herself. As she did, another familiar voice filled the space.

“Brother?! Brother where-”, The lanky gait of Aegon approached the two Targaryen children, his hair longer, shaggy. A flailing rag of silver locks whipping as stumbled upon the rocks. Aemond’s gaze hardened further as he watched his elder brother approach, muttering under his breath. Now was not the time.

Aemond's smug expression turned to annoyance as he watched his brother drunkenly stumble his way through the rocks. "What are you doing here Aegon?!” He snapped slightly.

Aegon merely ignored his brother's anger as he walked up to the two young Targaryen’s, he let out a snicker before flailing his arms, swiftly approaching and gripping his Aemond's shoulder. Visenya noticed how he had flinched at the touch.

"I was looking for you, fool!” he said drunkenly, turning his attention back to who stood before him. His lilac gaze widened as a smirk appeared upon his face, “Oh, hello, Visenya.”

The Princess stared indifferently at her elder Uncle before her brow raised in amusement, the princess tilted her head as she noticed how Aegon leered upon her. "Hello Aegon."

Aemond's gaze deepened as he watched his brother lean against him. His brother was drunk, again. The boy's arms remained crossed, as he stifled down that sickly feeling of embarrassment he had always felt in front of others while Aegon was present.

"Well, now that you have found me, you can go stumbling somewhere else," The younger prince spoke distantly, still glaring up at his older brother.

"Ah! Do not be such a bitter old man, brother. I merely came to see you, and here you are…with our pretty niece." Aegon's voice slurred, a drunken smile upon his face. Aemond felt a flash of frustration and disgust, though he kept his composure, merely rolling his eyes at the comment.

The Princess found herself in slight disbelief of the situation, it was terribly awkward, though she admittedly enjoyed seeing how terribly uncomfortable Aemond had gotten, his gait stiff and eyes downcast.

She tilted her head, smiling softly as she could not help but beam at Aegon’s compliment of her. “Hm, thank you, Uncle.” Visenya said coyly.

The younger prince felt his eyes narrow as he watched that small, self-satisfied smile curl upon her face. He felt bothered by her indulgence of his brother’s depravity. A strange silence bloomed between the three before another wave crashed upon the rock, leading Aegon to stumble, his hand gripped his younger brother’s shoulder as the elder prince slurred, “Mm fuck.”

Aemond's fists were still clenched, as he attempted to keep his composure. His temper still flared from his previous conflict with Visenya, and now his brother had come to make it worse. He kept his gaze down, his heart coiling in rage and humiliation. Finally, the sweaty grip of his brother upon him set the young Prince reeling, "Get off me, you stink!’ Aemond muttered, shoving his brother away from him.

Suddenly, Aegon stumbled backwards, his vision unfocused as he nearly fell. Aemond however, could hardly give a shit, silently hoping his brother to fall and crack his head upon the rock, mayhap then he might find some bloody peace. The princess at scoffed Aemond’s inaction, she stepped out, her fingers wrapping around Aegon’s arm to keep him upright.

A drunken smile returned to his face, “My sweet niece, I see you care for me.” He crooned, chuckling lowly as he noticed the way a small blush crept upon her cheek, he leaned in and mumbled, “It is a shame our mothers cannot make amends.. you would have suited me better.”

Visenya’s brow furrowed in confusion, before she registered his drunken muttering, he must have been referring to his betrothal with Heleana. She smiled coyly and shook her head but as she went to speak Aemond interrupted harshly, disgusted by both of his kin before him, “Do not say such things.”

The elder prince scoffed and rolled his eyes, muttering softly, “Yes… yes..”, he turned and then leaned upon Visenya steadying himself. Without warning, Aegon brought his hand up to her face, his thumb grazed her lips, making her flinch as he spoke again whispering, “I do doubt she would please me as you might-“

Before Aegon could mutter anything more, the Princess withdrew her hand that held his arm, almost tittering backwards in a slight fear of his ogling. The feeling of his cool, sweaty palm upon her cheek made her want to wretch as the dark revelation of his intentions hammered through her. She had never liked such sentiments from men, always found them frightening – as she had grown over the years she had noticed the once innocent gazes and touches of men around her turning to something darker. Something she couldn’t explain but knew was wrong. Despite it all, despite being told she was soon a woman grown, she still felt like a girl – and by all means; she was.

“Aegon...” The younger Targaryen prince stepped forward; his tone low yet oddly submissive – as though he could not quite find it in him to stand up to his brother.

Aegon ignored Aemond’s warning. His free hand grabbed her chin, lifting it so to better view her face. “Come on, Visenya, you’ve grown quite becoming.” The silver haired boy’s breath was hot, a slight scent of alcohol wafting from him.

The tension grew rapidly, the princess shook under his grasp her hands pushing at his chest though it were no use. He was taunting her, laughing softly as he examined her face. Visenya wince in frustration, “Mm, you’ve our half-sister’s cheeks…” Aegon muttered, his eyes narrowing. “Actually, you know who you remind me of? Brother, come… tis remarkable how much our little niece looks like the Prince Daemon?” A harsh chuckle left the elder prince’s lips as he taunted her, his breath hot and distinctly yeasty.

The Princess felt her heart soar with rage, she flickered her gaze over to Aemond as his eyes were to the ground. She brought her knee soaring to Aegon’s groin but missed and slammed into his upper thigh. Aegon scoffed and squeezed at her fleshy cheeks. “STOP!” Visenya exclaimed, she felt weak, humiliated.

As Aemond watched the grotesque display of his brother’s depravity he felt himself fly into action, he charged furious at the sight of his brother's drunken hand on her. "Did you not hear what I just said, you fool!" He yelled, as he pulled his brother's hand away from their niece. Aemond gripped the bony flesh of his brother’s wrist, forcing him away.

The elder prince was taken aback by his younger brother’s sudden aggression, he feigned ignorance and raised his brow, looking at Aemond with widened drunken eyes. "What? I was only looking at her."

"You were squeezing her face, as if it was a toy." Aemond's voice was filled with fury, his hand ached before he thrusted it away from Aegon. "You say you wish to seek me out, yet all you've done is act as a drunkard."

Aegon let his head cock backwards, laughing mischievously – so what if he was in a sorry state? Was it not his right, after all his mother is convinced he shall be King. Aegon had thought many a time on how he shall spend his day as King constructing a large personal brewery and brothel in the Red Keep. Finally make the bloody place good for something. No, it was not he who was the issue, perhaps Aemond was just too dull to see that he was only fooling around. His voice softened, "Relax, little brother. I was merely teasing her; you needn't accost me. Regardless, drink was the only worthwhile element of such a boring affair."

The two Targaryen boys bickered and Visenya felt herself grow sickened. She looked away, her mind filling with rage and humiliation, and betrayal. How could Aemond just stand there for so fucking long, useless as though he were one of the rocks beneath their feet. She felt tears clawing at her and she turned her head away, concealing the hot droplets with her hand.

Aemond's turned and noticed the princess in distress, he grimaced and a small pang in his chest appeared as he caught the glimmer of her tears. Yet he pushed it away, reminding himself that it was indeed Visenya and not some innocent girl, she was wicked and just as cruel as Aegon. He would not concede to caring for her now, even with that pain within his chest. He muttered lowly again to his brother, “Go away.”

The elder prince leaned in, giving his brother a light tap on the cheek before smiling "Shut it, little brother," Aegon muttered as he turned and pushed his silver hair from his face, straightening himself. "And you," he said, turning to Visenya, "Don’t go crying, I meant nothing by my words." He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, smiling. "I simply meant to say that you have grown very beautiful, Visenya." His voice gentle.

Rage boiled in the princess again as she snapped, “Do not dare touch me again!”

As her shrill voice clashed against the swelling sound of the waves, Aegon raised his hands as a sign of surrender, though his ever present smirk remained. "Relax niece." The elder silver haired boy then turned his eyes upon Aemond, smirking at his cold eyed brother. "Why don’t we all temper ourselves, yes? We are kin after all." His smile was sickly.

Neither spoke, Aemond’s gaze remained on the rocks below, gazing between the dark inky curling tide as Visenya kept her gaze like daggers upon Aegon. He shook his head, growing with frustration as the younger Targaryen’s refused to embrace what he thought was light hearted play.

Aegon stepped forward to the princess and spoke, “Oh, come on! I didn’t mea- “Aegon flailed his arms, and then stopped as he noticed just how his niece coiled backwards in fear. He hummed at the slight tinge, examining her for a moment before a flicker of guilt in his gut rose.  

Aemond's icy gaze only darkened as he listened to Aegon speak. He did not understand why his brother behave so perversely, for this was awful, even for Aegon’s standards. He looked between the two as they spoke, his fists clenching tighter and tighter. Yet his eyes softened slightly as he saw the flicker of fear upon their niece when his brother moved closer. Suddenly a wave of guilt hit him, why did he do nothing?

He felt useless, he was just as bad as Aegon. In his guilt, Aemond spoke lowly, “Just leave, brother.”

The elder prince turned swiftly and scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief “No… no, I’m not going up there, tis bloody miserable.”

“It’s a funeral?” Visenya quipped back bitterly. Of course it was bloody miserable, she thought. A mother and her babe had just died.

Aegon turned his head to his niece before trailing off, his gaze lowered as he looked at the rocks below, slowly pacing, “Indeed, it’s utterly awful...”

Silence fell between the three, Visenya still felt bitter wrath in her, though her eyes were upon Aemond now. With a swift whoosh, Aegon turned again and pointed to Visenya, “Was it not your name day this week?”

Her eyes did a double take before settling on Aegon, slightly taken aback by the abrupt change in tone, Visenya muttered, “Yes.”

A small, amused grin appeared upon his sharp face as he tilted his head and tutted “I feel sorry for you Visenya… however are you going to celebrate it again? It shall depress everyone knowing Lady Laenor died only a day prior. No more festivities it seems…” Aegon sighed, feigning pity before he began to pace again, continuing to ramble.

“…At least… not at Dragonstone, mayhap you ought to come to Kings Landing – I pride myself on the most unforgettable name day celebrations.” Aegon threw his head back slightly as he bragged, his eyes coming to his younger brother, noticing how Aemond shifted in discomfort, “Isn’t that right, brother? Tell our niece about our trip to Cock Inn, last year. You were turning ten and three, just like her.”

He knew it was coming, the young prince… he knew Aegon would find a way to humiliate him further. Slowly Aemond felt his cheeks burn, turning read from further humiliation, he looked up to see the disgusted expression upon Visenya’s face. “Be quiet.” Aemond grumbled.

Visenya watched as the dragonless prince shifted in discomfort, his fists and jaw clenched tightly as Aegon began to bring up a past that clearly had not been forgotten. She could only watch quietly as Aegon spoke on the name-day celebration, his drunken laughter filling the evening air. The young princess's eyes widened with shock as she heard Aegon mention the name of the Inn. She shook her head in confusion.

"No, no… I insist you tell her! Visenya is nearly a woman grown, I am sure she shall be betrothed soon. You ought to educate her as I did you!” With a wave of his hand, Aegon continued pacing, awaiting what was to come.

Aemond's cheeks flushed bright red, his fists clenching even tighter as Aegon began to reminisce that fateful night. He could still remember how Aegon’s vile words were still etched into his mind, “Time to get it wet.” The flash of what he had done that night, to whom he had done it to filled him with shame. He could still smell the saccharine perfume upon the weathered skin of the madame. Aemond furrowed his brow, wishing his mother were here. Aemond’s gazed laced with disgust before he turned his head away. A he avoided his brother's teasing sneer as a mixture of mortification and irritation filled his heart. How could he have been so foolish to follow his brother into such a wretched night? He muttered lowly to himself, the wind almost carrying his words away, “No.”

A high pitched, snivelling snicker left Aegon, and another lashing of that heavy feeling settled in the younger prince’s chest. He cursed his brother and his big, vile mouth, why did he have to mention such sin in front of Visenya? His fists tensed as Aegon's laughter bounced upon the jiggered cliff wall, he could feel his jaw clench as the mention of a past made his cheeks burn. He tried to ignore the pain and dishonour that came when Visenya's gaze shifted towards him.

The princess felt an overwhelming dread rippled through her, pulsing into her very bones. It was dreadful, the whole conversation seemed to derail into absolute horror before her eyes and though she knew not what Cock Inn was, she was ignorant to what its name suggest. “What are you blabbing on about?” Her tone sharp as she sneered at Aegon.

“See, our niece wishes to know? You would be a grand teacher for our sweet niece, after all he learned from one of the more… aged and experienced Lady’s.”  Aegon snivelled lowly at his lewd implication.

As the words left Aegon’s lips, Aemond could not contain himself. The sheer shame of it all, the sheer disgust he felt within himself – which sparked tears in his eyes. Tears? No… no he could not cry, not in front of Aegon, not in front of Visenya. He would not be faint-hearted, he couldn't let his brother continue to humiliate him in front of others, even if it was his own blood. With a low growl, Aemond lunged at Aegon, tackling him to the ground and began punching him, his fists hitting his brother's face relentlessly.

The princess gasped, her eyes widened as she watched the young princes' wrestle on the ground, their fists flying wildly. As Aemond managed to tackle Aegon, he began to punch him repeatedly, his fists landing on his brother's face with a flurry of anger. But, the elder dragon's smile never left his face, he just giggled as if he were merely being tickled by a little boy. With that, a scoff left Aegon’s lip as he brought his hand to Aemond’s smaller chest shoving him to rocks.

Aemond stumbled back as Aegon shoved him away, his body crashing hard on the ground with a thud. He felt the pain as the sharp rocks dug into his back, it hurt, but he knew he had to continue fighting. He rose back up to his feet, his fists still clenched tight. He let out a loud yell, filled with anger and frustration, before charging back towards his brother. The younger prince swung freely at Aegon, and his fist connected with his brother's face once more.

The heavy sounds of grunts and giggling filled the air, and Visenya folded her arms, tilting her head at the rather pathetic sight before her. Aemond desperately trying to get one up upon his brother, and Aegon rolling about the floor dodging his advances, snivelling like a child.

She sighed after a few moments, waiting for them to tire themselves out and slowly approached them. With one final push, Aemond crashed upon the rocks again, and he himself let out a sharp, air hungry breath before he gave up his attack. Aegon stood up unsteadily and then looked down to his younger brother, a small moment transpired, a wry smile upon the elder prince’s face as his hand whipped Aemond hard across the back of his head, “Twat.” He spat.

As Aemond winced, he felt himself cower, more rage and shame curdling within him, but he had little energy to keep fighting. His gaze returned to his brother above before a small tap upon Aegon’s shoulder drove his attention to their niece behind him, “Keen for a slap too niece?” He laughed.

Suddenly, the dense thud of Visenya’s boot came in contact with Aegon’s groin. Aemond’s eyes widened in a strange enjoyment as the whimpering of Aegon filled the space. His elder brother practically crumbled to his knees and gagged. The elder prince coughed and groaned more, clutching at his breeches before he choked out, “You little… cunt…”

Visenya’s gaze was indignant and sharp before she looked to Aemond, extending her hand. The young prince refused her but as he went to speak, her harsh grip clawed into his wrist and forced him up. Without another word, Visenya tore Aemond away from his brother. Aegon shuffling to lean again the rocky cliff wall, inebriated and moaning in pain.

○vi○

[baxndaid]

ive been wanted to ask for a while but i was so scared 😭😭

do you mind doing redson x reader (friends to lovers type deal) and both of them r absolutely smitten but doesn’t want to tell the other (the mk gang sees right through them)

sorry if this is too specific lmao 💀

red son x reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! this is so cute PLEADSE hey guys shock of the century but i have never actually watched lmk 😔🙏 just going off clips i find on yt

• he’s not even that awkward at first tbh

• he’s just stiff

• you’re definitely a bit more chill about it, on the outside of course, but in the inside? chaos

• whenever your shoulder’s accidentally brush together due to MK’s bone crushing hugs you can’t help but ignore the pain and focus on the fire user next to you

• he isn’t much better by the way

• he’s so much worse what am i saying i’m LYING to you all

• he’s so blatantly looking between you and the spot your shoulders are touching so frantically, his lips pursed and a noticeable red hue on his face

• when MK is done with his murder attempt, red son will push him away and hastily fix his clothes and hair, avoiding eye contact with you

• let’s be real your doing the same

• at first he would be polite (as polite as he could be) when you first met

• but as time passed you saw more of him and he saw more of you

• you would exchange stories and laugh together which was something that made the gang’s jaws DROP

• like?? get together already???

• Mei always liked to tease both of you, trying so hard to make it obvious that you both feel the same way about each other

• doesn’t work you’re both stupid

• most of you and Mei’s texts go kinda like,

mei: “hey y/nn you planning on marrying yknow who today?? ❤️”

y/n: “loll Mei your so funny lol like i would ever like him lol he’s so stuck up and mean sometimes like LOL like so what if he’s really really cute and actually pays attention to me and makes me feel special like it so doesn’t matter or anything lol mei your so silly lol !! you need to be put down!! lol!!”

mei: “therapy y/n”

y/n: “lol… 😔”

• anyway! Mei (and the rest but let’s be real mostly Mei and MK) are eating this shit UP

• they like to do this thing where they tell you both (separately) that something urgent is happening and they needed you there asap

• and when i mean “there” i mean a weirdly nice park with a strange already set up picnic with MK (with a poor disguise that consists of a paper mustache and a black shirt) playing the violin horrifically and Mei clearly in the tree near by, listening in with a excited grin plastered on her face

• you and red son looked at each other, you gave him a bashful smile, fiddling with your hands that you could feel already sweating

• he gave you a small smile back and sat down, patting the empty space right next to him for you to sit down

• you leaned your head on his shoulder as he leaned his on your head, he was stiff, but he relaxed as you both started to converse

• despite the eerie feeling of being watched and the screech of MK’s violin, it was a peaceful, or dare i say it, romantic, day for the both of you

lego monkie kid masterlist

[gojous-adderall]

About Noé's latest neurodivergent adventures (chapter 61.5 and 62)

(things I found relatable)

1. PUTTING UR HAND UP BC U CANT FIGURE OUT WHEN TO SPEAK. EVERYONE THINKS UR WEIRD FOR IT BUT ITS POLITE AND LIFE IS FUCKING HARD

2. Struggling to follow conversation, and seeing clearer ways of communication that no one else can and getting frustrated that the neurotypicals are so obviously communicating poorly

3. Vanitas designated translator

4. Being quite blind to politics (when it comes to discrimination against himself as a vampire [and his PRIVILEGES as a vampire] and in this case against others like dhams) bc he works individual by individual instead of by social categories

5. Last of all it hurts to see the other characters calling him ignorant and an idiot all the time bc Ive been there. He's booksmart, he's intelligent, just not socially, but here is everyone writing him off as dumb just bc he's different.

Its not like he's ignorant on purpose. Of course it's important to know this shit he's learning now, and it can be done, but it's a lot harder when ur autistic and, as Vanitas said, when u grow up so isolated. Learning is a neverending process and Noé is very clearly learning and just bc he works differently like putting his hand up to speak or interpreting the world differently doesn't mean he's stupid

[ramblingoak]

A Lil Somethin' Somethin', Chapter 3: Secondo's Office

(If you need to catch up: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2)

An anon prompt wanted Papa and Reader out to dinner...and vibrating panties.

Papa Emeritus IV x Female Reader: Smut, Fluff, Slight Voyeurism(?), Vibrating Panties and Copia being a dork.  NSFW, 18+ only, MDNI.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“Dolcezza, what the fuck?!”

Copia stumbled back clutching his shin.  You had been trying to keep him from knocking on Secondo’s office door and had finally resorted to kicking him.  The last thing you needed was to be a sweaty, needy mess in your boss’s office.  Secondo would never let you live it down.

The only thing you needed right now was an orgasm.  Several, ideally.  

Your Papa straightened up and glared at you, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  You tried to ignore how good he looked in his suit, but like usual his clothes hugged him in all the right places.  He looked down at the floor for a moment and took a deep breath while you watched him warily.

“Mi dispiace, amore mio…I’ve taken this too far, haven’t I?” Copia looked back up at you and bit his lip. “Let’s just go to dinner, eh?”  He gave you a smile and then opened his arms up and took a step towards you.  Well, you weren’t going to say no to a hug, Copia was really good at them.

You gave him a small nod and he closed the distance and wrapped you in his arms.  Lucifer, he smelled so good.  He felt good too.  You did feel a little bad because you knew he was excited about tonight and having fun.  And you were too, despite the torturous lack of orgasms.  He pressed his mouth against your ear and murmured something in Italian you didn’t understand.

“Hmm, Papa, what did you say?”  You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, humming when he pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“I said, ‘but you did tell your Papa yes.’”  Before you could respond he kissed you fiercely on the mouth.  You lost yourself in his lips for a moment before you felt one of his arms leave your back and then you heard two hard knocks on the door behind you.

That son of a bitch.

After a moment Secondo’s voice called out from inside and Copia pulled away with a smirk on his face.  He took your hand, kissed the back before you could yank it away and then opened the door gesturing for you to go in ahead of him.  You met eyes with Secondo and winced at the irritated look on his face.  He normally was done in the office much earlier than this but you guessed he had to stay a little later to finish things up since he let you leave early.

Copia strolled by you, grabbing your hand again as he went.  He led you to one of the chairs in front of Secondo’s desk and gestured for you to take a seat.  As soon as your butt hit the chair the panties went off and you jumped back up with a gasp.  Secondo raised an eyebrow at you and you just coughed and sat back down.

You were definitely never living this down.

“How can I help you, Papa?”  How Secondo managed to sound polite but also like he couldn’t give two shits never ceased to amaze you.  Poor Copia didn’t seem to notice and just clapped his hands together and bowed a little.

“I was hoping I could leave mio amore here for a moment while I got something from Terzo, would that be alright?”  Copia then shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and smiled down at you and then looked back over to Secondo.  You watched the hand in his left pocket warily, waiting for the vibrator to go off again.

“Why?”  Both you and Secondo asked at the same time, both managing to sound annoyed at the prospect.  You were not going to sit here in front of your boss while Copia messed with the remote.  What did he need from Terzo anyway?

“Ah I just need to speak with him for a moment, boring stuff.  Dolcezza you just stay here and I’ll be right back, si?”  Copia turned on his heel to leave, not seeming to care that Secondo hadn’t agreed to babysit you.

“Wait!  Copia.”  You glanced back at Secondo and then coughed and rubbed your hands up and down your arms.  “I’m chilly, can I borrow your jacket?”

Copia narrowed his eyes but quickly shrugged.  “Of course amore, whatever you need.”  He stepped back over and removed his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.  You smiled sweetly up at him and shoved your arms through the sleeves.  Copia turned back to Secondo and gave him a nod before quickly walking out of the office.  

You shoved your hand into the left pocket to check for the remote but it was empty.  “Fuck, no.”  The other pocket was empty too.  That son of a bitch.  

“What the fuck is going on?”  Secondo was wearing the face he got when Terzo was being particularly annoying and you wracked your brain trying to think of something to say.  Unfortunately as soon as you started to speak the vibrator came to life and you dug your hands into the upholstered arms of the chair with a groan.  

You heard Secondo mutter something else but you couldn’t focus on his voice.  The only thing you could focus on was what the vibrator was doing.  It was sitting so snuggly against your cunt no part of you was unaffected.  From your clit to your entrance it was pressing into you.  A small moan escaped your mouth when the vibration strengthened.

“Are you sick?”  You gasped at Secondo’s voice and looked up at him.  He had an eyebrow raised at you and a grimace on his face.  You managed to nod your head and he muttered something under his breath and looked back down at his paperwork.  

The vibration got stronger again and you let your head fall back against the back of the chair.  You clenched your eyes closed and tried to steady your breathing.  You were not going to have an orgasm in front of Secondo.  Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you just slipped the panties off and shoved them under the chair.  It wouldn’t be the first time anyone had done that.

The vibrations abruptly stopped and you dropped your head forward to catch your breath.  When was Copia going to get back?  It was late anyway, Terzo never stayed in his office this late.  The bastard was probably just standing outside the door giggling like an idiot while pressing buttons.  As if on cue they started back up again and you didn’t even bother hiding your whimper.

“Sorella, what the fuck is going on?”  

“You don’t want to know, Papa.”  The vibrations stopped again right when Copia strolled back into the office whistling the chorus to Rats.  You turned your head and glared at him, but he just gave you a goofy smile.  He held his hands out for yours and then helped you up.  You smiled up at him and then leaned up on your tiptoes to press your mouth against his ear.  “Someday I’m going to get my revenge for this.”

Copia chuckled and framed your face in his hands, dropping a light kiss on your nose.  “I hope so, dolcezza.  I’ll look forward to it.”

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”  Secondo had his hands clenched in the paperwork on his desk and was glaring at the both of you.  You cleared your throat and stepped away from Copia, smoothing the fabric of your dress down.  

“Sorry, Papa!  We’ll be heading out now.  Grazie per averle fatto compagnia.” (Thank you for keeping her company.)  He nodded towards Secondo and then took your hand to leave the office.

“Tieni le tue strane stronzate fuori dal mio ufficio.” (Keep your weird shit out of my office.)

Copia snorted as Secondo’s words followed you both out back into the hallway.  He brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss against the back.  “What do you say we head to the restaurant, eh?”

“Finally.”  He tucked your hand in the crook of his arm and then started down the hallway towards the main stairs.  Oh shit, was he going to have one of his ghouls drive you there?  You’d rather walk.  “Copia, how are we getting there?”

He pulled something out of his pants pocket and you stiffened thinking it was the remote, but instead a set of keys were dangled in front of your face.  You saw a little golden kazoo keychain hanging among them and raised your eyebrow.  There’s no way Terzo let Copia borrow his car.  “Papa, how did you get Terzo to give you those?”

Copia stopped at the top of the stairs and then shoved the keys back into his pocket.  He took your chin in his hand and gave you another kiss on your nose.

“Oh dolcezza, you should know by now your Papa always gets what he wants.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: Finally

Masterlist of my Fic

Ao3 Link

[sagemoderocklee]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🍄 🍬 ❄️ 🏜️ 🦴

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

got a lot of headcanon asks today in my inbox lol... uh for this ill go with my headcanon about Tenten not being without family since ive got two asks for that levels thing i reblogged earlier to answer

so my hc and how i usually approach Tenten is that she comes from a weapon smithing clan. Her clan originally came from Dragon Kingdom, but like... so, so long ago. like a thousand years ago. they were originally trading in what is now Fire, and eventually some started to settle instead of going back to Dragon Kingdom. They established themselves as blacksmiths and as times changed, became weapon makers almost exclusively. Her clan still makes other things besides weapons, but they specialize in weapon making.

Tenten lives with her grandmother since her parents died during Obito's assault on Konoha with the kyuubi. Tenten's clan lives in the industrial district of Konoha, and Neji (who is alive thank you) moves there after he and Tenten have been dating for a bit.

Tenten, of course, prioritizes fighting with weapons, but she also is a good smith herself, and does a lot of unique work with weapons.

I gave Tenten's clan a name, of course, so her family/clan name is Nie, which means 'pattern of a sword blade'.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

drawing a blank beyond all my usual things like gaara being obsessed with naruto being stupid or like the way ppl generally approach Gaara is ableist and disregards his history prior to Yashamaru tryna kill him or lee not being anbu/akatsuki/hokage etc and also ppl making lee sexy is stupid like he's weird looking and thats fine and i think his weird looks are charming and cute... all of which ive talked about before

um i guess ill say that sakura being self-centered is actually a really important and interesting character trait. it doesn't make her an awful, irredeemable character, it's just a character flaw and i think ppl who love her tend to ignore that about her because the people who absolutely hate her are always callin her a bitch etc. like i love sakura but she can be a bitch and i think that's interesting and okay and like if you really like a character you can lean into their flaws without that being like a condemnation of the character. she doesn't have to be like sunshine and daisies to be a good character

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

the dream theme/plot for a fic is one i'd probably just write myself. not like for any reason other than if i have an idea i usually wanna execute it myself, and at this point a lot of my ideas exist within the worldbuilding ive done and not that other ppl dont or cant but my interest are always gonna lean more into the political spectrum of storytelling and i think that's generally my niche and not as many ppl write those stories.

i think if there was absolutely something i didnt wanna write id honestly probably not wanna read it either, so im always like shit at answer these kinda questions cause once i have an idea im like 'ok ill write that someday'

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

always gonna love long comments that talk about the themes of the story, that bring up things the reader thinks is foreshadowing, direct lines from the fic, and so on. i like when ppl are like rlly analyzing what ive written and telling me their thoughts and what they think is gonna happen. i think by far my fave thing is ppl tryna guess what's coming and seeing how close or how far off they are, and when ppl do pick up on foreshadowing that is just... chef's kiss.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

i find inspiration in a lot of things and it rlly is gonna depend on what im writing at the time. sometimes i get inspired by music (a lot of my gaalee fics were originally inspired by Florence+the Machine song for instance), sometimes it's like a poem or a book, or a tv show, but it rlly is always gonna depend on what im writing.

but my perspective is that art begets art. art is always in a state of inspiring more art, whether its the originating artist being inspired by their own work or another being inspired by their work, i think art is at its core always birthing more art.

with fic i dont think i could pinpoint one single thing that's inspiring me at any given moment, but i am often being inspired by other things whether it's music or just like an article about something.

[shadeslayer]

and tbqh i dont think that real native sovereignty or a real #landback is going to fix much.

because most tribes that have solid governmental structures have them based off usa constitution and govt structure (because thats what legally has to be done to have your tribal govt recognized as valid by the usa) and so a lot of usa govt problems will have been ported over via that

and because a lot of tribes and tribal hiearchies are just plain shitty. no one says it bc its seen as (and in action, it often is) "opening the door" for bigoted people to claim we dont deserve anything then. but there is massive problems in tribal govts/councils/hiearchies!

nepotism is a huge one that youll see pretty much anywhere and if not nepotism then there will be at least some strong form of favoritism happening. One Man has been chief of my tribe for 36 years and his son is expected to take over when he retires. theres regular elections <3 but they mean nothing. no one bothers to run against usually, because its pointless to try! when i worked for the nation, i was told by coworkers that in other processes they had been explicitly told by their higher ups to favor hiring people with relative who already work for the nation

antiblackness is HUGE !! for people that love to bitch about broken treaties, tribes are right now today and have been for years breaking treaties just to exclude freedmen (aka former slaves of the tribe and their descendants) from anything tribal. & thats just scratching the surface of the shit that gets said and done in tribal spaces, official or unofficial.

colorism too! and it is in part that my tribe is much more assimilated than others (though i know a few tribes that are similar to mine), so my experience is skewed one way despite being involved in general spaces too and knowing others from other tribes. but there is explicit colorism happening in the nations hiring processes and elections. fullbloods and darkskinned people are heavily discriminated against and its always accompanied by people like my very pale, blonde, blue eyed, sorority girl coworker who would repeatedly complain about how she gets told she doesnt look indian enough and shes soooooo discriminated against by other natives because of it. ok bitch the only dark skinned person working for the nation that weve seen is the fucking cleaning woman who gets regularly shit on by our boss. go back to your shitty family farm and cry there

homophobia, transphobia, its all over the fucking place. "same sex" marriage isnt legal still in many tribes. my tribe straight up completely ignores queer people and in doing so is actively erasing our history. & they know what theyre doing. when theres a huge push of cultural preservation & revitalization, and you make explicitly sure that certain stories arent being included, you know exactly what youre doing. and ive seen that happen over and over again even for simple things like house names. the only reason anyone knows house names exist is because jerod forced people to know about them. the nation wants to look nice and white and normal so they wont give any information on it, even if the people working there KNOW it

and idk its just exhausting after having worked for the nation. i dont have a better solution, all i know is that government more often than not are just completely shitty. and that actively includes tribal governments. giving them legal political control of their former territories isnt going to make those problems go away, its only going to make them hurt more people

maybe the best option would be to just be a usamerican minority group. but its fucking insulting to consider and even then i dont know what that could even look like and still be compatible with tribes needs. just have to take it day by day i guess

[cwarscars-a]

*taps mic* hi hello good night! I'm here to talk about Magnar Valerio Heidegger because of course that is his canon name and I don't care what SE has to say about it. :) No, but really - I know I've said this in the past but Heid is an emotional muse for me and I'll do this again.

I don't think I was prepared for how much you made me care for him - it's fair that the remake made him more than a lil pixel in a green coat and thick beard, but I had no feelings or thoughts for Heid until I met you. I remember being a weird choice of a muse - Reeve and Scarlet (even Hojo with the yucky factor) were such popular directors, why would someone pick Heidegger?

All I can say is that I'm glad you did it because HOLY FUCK. I remember reading through this incredibly long and detailed bio and just... Fully seeing Heidegger as a fully-fleshed character. The abuse at the hands of the father he failed to recognize as such; the intense pressure to succeed and to please him nonetheless; the marriage that ended in heartbreak with two daughters he didn't spend nearly enough time with; the worship of Shinra Sr.; his views on world politics and how he so clearly sees himself as a man with the guts to do what needs to be done to achieve results.

With your writing, I just went from someone who largely ignored him to someone who frankly adores the character. There is just so MUCH room for growth, complicated themes to work with and you just turned him into this layered, complex asshole I love? That Melissa would definitely marry no matter the verse? I just cannot get enough of how much history you've given him, how plausible it all sounds and the fact that you write a villain we can relate/understand his reasoning without ever woobifying him.

You are THE Heidegger writer to me and I'm forever amazed and wowed by your headcanons and super well detailed posts. It all tracks to the OG or the remake in some way and it's just so good I forget it's not canon. Or fuck that - you're better than canon. PLUS Heidegger gave me you and 3 years later (3 years??? omg) we're here and having fun and I will never not love the husbando for it.

You're amazing and your Heidegger is a work of art. *mic drop*

hey…how’s my portrayal? ♡

(( MARI. WHAT THE FUCK ----

i legit saw the start of this and thought 'ooohhhh, a nice tasty lil ask for heidegger & mel to have sexy times in' AND THEN I KEPT READING AND I WAS LIKE 'WAIT A SECOND'. you know something, i'm not much of an emotional bear - i think we both know this because i have n e r v e s of s t e e l but...this got my eyes damp? like, what the hell???

i feel emotional reading this, it's like how i mentioned to light; it feels good to have been given the platform and supported by you guys in writing heid. like, i feel as though these headcanons and storylines and stuff come out because of you guys. i sometimes feel so embarrassed by my love of this guy because he isn't cloud or sephiroth or even one of the lesser but still popular characters (ala rufus or tseng). like, who the hell would like heidegger? haha. well, me apparently :P

but it feels great because i get this support and this validation by people like yourself. you just DIVEBOMB into my inbox with this absolute love letter of goodness and it honestly has me feeling so warm and fuzzy. ive been so down these last few weeks just due to various bits and pieces and you know, when you reach a stage where you can't even cry* because you feel so shit? well, now i'm sat here with lil happy tears beading in the corners of my eyes - like, bruh- you did that, i love you for it.

of course - i can't just fawn on how much i love you and how sweet you are, mari. because our friendship is special and i'm so forever grateful to have started to write with you that one day and i'm so glad that everything from there has happened and we've always stayed in touch but like -

melissa. you KNOW i wouldn't have half the characterisation of heid if it wasn't for her. that initial meeting - the INITIAL plots we had with the blackmail and stuff before these two coconuts fell in love. their son and retirement to costa del sol. remember the bitchy neighbour that mel HATED? edlyn and dwayna befriending mel and mel restoring their relationship with their father? all of the smut and all of the wonderful things we've written together? mari, you're such a special writing partner to have. you're one in a million. your girl is the best and i (and my lil collection of men) will forever love her. i don't even need to tell you how much i adore your writing because you know i could read a novel of your works. please write mel into a book, i NEED

my final thing i wanna say is just -

suns out, guns out - i love them and i love you ♡♡♡♡

[lonespektr]

Oct 8th Day 22 Await Further instructions

Just racism right now 🤨🤨🤨🤨 which is as I have said the most horrific of all

Oh okay that was just to establish why he ain't been home

Be the change white boy

Drop that family

They did try to leave Hella early

They clearly got drugged and now some alien done metaled up the exits

The neighbors will hear.....

That you need help?

peak wasp

He just insulted everybody and himself

Reality show - correct answer

Celebrity show - airhead

The authorities -

She's observant though - clocks

Promote ORDER

Terrorism

They sit sis next to king racist?

Duty, this father is a Lil too archypical

Lol first lie

Also they are clearly observing

You know

Canned food?

Another... There's two health care workers bleach body scrub isn't..

They don't have a fucking tub?

Downstairs for what?

As soon as they make amends they introduced another variable

Just random insane back of needles unsealed no fake govt tag

Lol they decided to at least sterilize them

The guy literally looked like he did it IV and the other guy did IM

They didn't even ask about pregnant under 5 years over idk 75 years allergies

This is just the will people submit to unknown authority sociological experiment

I hoped they were smart enough to pretend to take it

That's the first time the TV acknowledged it can see what's going on instead of just a best guess

Acceptable loss

Now there is a default hierarchy struggle

Because there has to be "a person" "in charge"

They literally attacking each other

Mom is DOING THE WHITE WOMAN WASP WORK

Ignore

Downplay

Placate

Calm

Diffuse

Distract

Avoid fighting at all costs

Omg it's not amazing IT'S CREEPY

I never forget

She's really insecure about her intelligence. I never understand why people like that don't just like.. learn more?

I SEE YOU

One drink

I'm going to work on the study

(this is my dad when his kids are hurt he can't deal and he leaves the room)

So they have accepted they can hear them but Not That's its clearly NOT the government or they just don't care anymore because they have already submitted to that authority

How she get sepsis that fucking quick?

peak WASP go clean the house

Well dad might actually be making himself useful... Maybe

Holes in the house

The issue is that these characters are just a bit overplayed

Things can spiral without them being crazy

Is he planning to kill the kid?

Let's try logic. You bloodied his nose and taped his mouth those are the ONLY TWO breathing orafices if memory serves

Extract information from sleeper agent

Box cutting your kid

Now an eyeball

Whoop Katy Kate n bb

Not looking at the information is peak 2019 political climate idiocracy disinformation era

The facts are there and I will shut my eyes and slap them out of your hand

WHOOOO mama lost it the wasp crumbles on the death of one child

Here come the gas

Whoa shit it's like uh napalm burns on contact then explodes

His whole family just died (mom)

Sneks

So camera metal walls

Burning gas

Earthquake

Now religious angle

Curious they went with the your TV is the cause of disinformation not the internet

That angles it at main stream media plus the older white generations on racism

That's squarely fox news is making your old white family members crazy or what's UK? Murdoch owned sky? fox

And you too unless

Kill crazed older generation before they kill you

The young brown intelligent will kill the old whites

The TV will literally kill you?

So many possible metaphors to one scene

Technomancy

Lol but clamation

OK now it's

Your old white man is literally a puppet of your tv

Now the join me

Young white man join the hate like your father and be an abuser

Or fuck a hot smart brown chick and don't be a racist loser

Plug into the TV and do what it says until you die

Raise your baby on hate

Nicely done

And the pan out for the global invasion

Nice work slow clap

[clownpi]

Fucken wild idea (you can use it if you want, I'll probs never make a fic in my life, I cant write for shit)

Jinx has a mental breakdown while living with Silco at like age 14 (before Vi gets out of prison) and thinks she's going to jinx Silco and getting independence for Zaun and pulls a journey to the west (yes I have been rereading the jttw don't @ me) and goes on a pilgrimage to find enlightenment/ how tf not to be a Jinx to everyone around me, everyone thinks she's fucken dead coz this was entirely impromptu, including Ekko and Zeri (she's there). And Jinx just kinda travels the world meeting new people making enemies and friends along the way including one "special" Demacian *wink* *wink*. She ultimately makes her way to shurima (note Janna has been guiding her journey) and finds like this sunken temple that was dedicated to Janna full of forgotten ancient relics and scripture detailing Zaun and Jannas history. And Jinx is all like tf do I do? And Janna visits her in her dreams and is like, daughter of mine, rewrite our old scripture and traditions into modern zauns language and once you've done become my priestess and bring back our culture to Zaun. And jinx is like seems legit and does that for like 2 and a half years (she's like 18 after this) and makes her way back to Zaun

Meanwhile back at the twin city's, Caitlyn broke Vi out of prison to help with her investigation, Vi finds out from sevika that jinx is probs dead, and Ekko basically confirms it, shit happens Zaun gets it's independence, a year goes by and Jinx 5 years older one pilgrimage and religious awakening later has finally made it back home to Zaun and Silco, Silco of course is ecstatic to have his daughter back and wants to show off to Zaun and Piltover that the princess and heir of Zaun has finally returned, Jinx is like umm dad, Ive had like a religious awakening and such and went on a pilgrimage across the world and I brought back a bunch of scripture of Janna and the church of the storm and I'm basically a priestess now can we umm get Jannas old church back up and running? Silco of course agrees, anything for his little girl. A gala at Piltover rolls around and what's the best way to announce the return of the princess of Zaun then to upstage a piltoven event? So Jinx and slico and the other chembarons go to the gala and guess who's there, Caitlyn, Vi, Ekko and Zeri also Lux and a bunch of Jinx's friends from around the world (jinx has so many political connections it's scary)

You can kinda imagine what happens next, Vi , Ekko and Zeri freak the fuck out, Jinx/powder is alive what? Ekko and Zeri are like do we need to fight she works for Silco, but this is a gala and Jinx is clearly been invited judging by her dress. While Vi is all like at first HOLY SHIT POWDER IS ALIVE, WHAT THE FUCK IS SILCO DOING WITH HER, WHY THE FUCK IS HE WITH HER, GET TF AWAY FROM MY SISTER! Jinx is like Vi wtf ,don't make a scene and drags her off. Caitlyn is all the while awkwardly standing there not really know what to do but be kinda excited to know that vis innocent baby sister is alive, and is like new sister pog as well as the fact she seems to be very close to a Crownguard who has been basically been a bodyguard and shadowed her the entire evening which can only mean good things(Ekko never had the heart to tell Vi jinx worked for Slico, and Vi just talked about her little sis to Cait all the time and Cait has gotten attached to her even tho she's never met her)

Eh can't be bothered to keep going, it's like past 12 am for me and I need to do work tomorrow

Night clown

We Prince of Egypt AU now, love it (I know the movie is based on the bible, but I've never read it so Prince of Egypt AU it is). Jinx having a spiritual journey just like Moses did while wandering through a desert.

You could almost cut everything and just focus on Shurima adventures too, especially if you wanted to have Jinx interaction with the colourful Shurima champs (or actively try to ignore them while doing her translations only to have them constantly bug her). Jinx could still have traveled all over the place, but you could keep it to backstory or references just to keep the story focused, anything you'd want more detail in could just be side stories.

Like Jinx has holed up in an old catacomb or something and just is constantly interrupted. Nasus could stop in to teach her how to read ancient Shuriman (useful, Jinx likes), which then makes Renekton come bursting in to fight (even when Nasus isn't there and after the first couple times of Jinx actually fearing for her life she just kinda gets used to it and tells him Nasus isn't there much to Renekton's disappointment).

Sivir could show up initially thinking it was a new tomb to explore only to find Jinx, somehow they hit it off and Sivir starts bugging her to raid tombs together since Jinx is an explosives expert + her lessons with Nasus means she can read ancient Shuriman and knows a lot about old architecture.

That could then lead Azir (leaning on his interactions with Sivir from LoR) to showing up trying to use Jinx as a means of getting close with Sivir or even just learning what she's doing, because she wants nothing to do with him. He'd just call her Scribe or something like "Scribe, how was my great granddaughters day? Did she....mention me at all?" Have Azir go off on "For your usefulness to me over the years I shall consider you an honorary Shuriman when Shurima finally rises to its true splendor under my rule! Feel pride in earning such a status Scribe! Maybe even Royal Scribe may be in your future should such usefulness continue!" to which Jinx just goes "Yeah sure, cool."

Taliyah could be the one normal friend she actually likes to see because when she see's Jinx is busy she'll just come back another time while leaving a note. They can go sand surfing together and Taliyah would deliver Jinx's mail correspondence with the other people she met on her journey to keep in touch.

Not really sure about the other Shuriman champions. Would be funny if Jinx went "You know, I think you're my favourite of all the Shuriman weirdos I've met, you keep things simple y'know?" towards Rammus who just responds with "OK" While with Amumu it's "Y'know I get you, but I'm still not hugging you. Maintain our agreed upon distance."

The reason so many years pass before Jinx finally leaves is because of the constant interruptions, but through it she ascends (hehe) to a level of patients not previously thought possible. She gets so used to dealing with the constant interruptions from these Gods and other powerful beings she doesn't even blink and just accepts it.

Upon actually returning to Zaun would be kinda funny if people were more weirded out at how incredibly mellow Jinx is than the fact she's actually back.

At that Gala would be where she could interact with the others she met on her journey. Everyone could be weirded out at the Shuriman delegates just approaching Jinx going "Scribe, Emperor Azir wishes to seek your wisdom on a most important topic. He wishes to know if you have any knowledge as to what Lady Sivir's favourite food might be? Emperor Azir wishes to gift her such for his upcoming visit."

Idk, does sound like a fun idea that I might possible look into doing something for (adding it to the pile ;-;) since Shurima is a pretty neat place which also bleeds into my childhood love of Egypt (I wanted to be an Egyptologist as a kid :3).

[artlesscomedic]

was m!punz. like. mad that m!purpled got caught.

Furious.

Let's see, where did that comic leave off....

"Didn't I suffer when I had to pack up everything I owned and drag not only myself but also my little brother halfway across the world to protect both of us from our shitty parents?!

”We didn't get a brand new home and a brand new dad handed to us on a silver platter like they did! We had to work for it, while they were spoiled rotten! So, yeah, maybe Dream is scaring the kid to death--but maybe that's what he deserves!"

"Don't say shit like that!" Purpled is yelling now, or maybe it just feels louder because he means it. "Nobody deserves to be treated like that! What about our parents, since you wanna talk about them so bad! I remember some of the shit they did to us, and I'm sure that wasn't the half of it-- did you deserve it, Punz? Did I?"

He's leaving. "I'm leaving." Fuck Punz, fuck Dream, fuck this entire conversation. "And for your information: Jack doesn't deserve the world just because he's a foster kid!" He fumbles with his blankets, with the fucking breathing tube they put on him, makes a grab for the IV. "He deserves it because he's kind and thoughtful and loving!"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You can't leave--!" Punz snaps, but he goes ignored.

Purpled can't get the IV out with the heart rate monitor clipped to his forefinger, but he isn't going to lay here and be criticized for his own morals.

"Oh, dear. " There's a nurse standing in the door, now, as a high pitched alarm buzzes from the disturbed equipment. "Sir, please, if you could lower your voice, we can help you and your--"

"Fuck off," Punz snaps at the woman, any niceties from before dropped entirely. "You aren't part of this." He turns back on Purpled, eyes narrowed. "And you lay the fuck back down. Or, what, are you planning on walking out of here with a broken ankle? We're not done with this goddamn conversation."

The nurse in the door takes a nervous step back, but otherwise stays where she is. "Sir, please. I will call security if necessary."

"I'd walk out of here with two broken ankles if it meant getting away from you!" Purpled shouts back, and suddenly his hands are wet. "This conversation is fucking--" He blinks and looks down, and all at once he understands what the term "bloodbath" means. It isn't pretty.

His arm hurts, and in his other hand, he's holding the IV start. There's no needle there, like he figured there would be. It's just this little tube, making a mess, and all he can do is blink. "I'm fuckin...I need to leave." He says quietly, and he's sore, and tired, and the heavy feeling is coming back. "I want to go."

Punz opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by the nurse still at the door.

"I'm calling security." She states, eyes narrowed at Punz. "And I'm sure they will contact CPS as well. Either step aside and allow us to treat your brother, or you will be forced to."

"Fuck you," Punz spits, again. He turns to take one last look at Purpled, sneering. "Find yourself somewhere else to stay."

"Sir--"

Punz turns and pushes past the nurse, then, storming out of the room and out of sight. The nurse leans out, and shouts something to another nearby staff member, before turning and heading back into the room, towards Purpled.

"I know you want to leave, but let's make sure you don't bleed yourself dry first, okay?" She says, her voice much softer than it had been when addressing Punz. "Do you have any other family we can call in the meantime?"

Purpled blinks, still looking down at himself, and all he can think to do is politely hand back the IV start. She's going to call Child Services. And security, but he's never found a security guard he fears. He's more concerned about where he'll go after this, or if they'll even let him go without Punz.

He's ruined everything.

"No. I wouldn't know where to find them anyway; he's all I have." His voice wavers and he closes his eyes. "Miss? Um-- ma'am, I mean, sorry-- do you...are you really going to call CPS? That was-- it was bad, but...I promise it's not like that at home. He was just scared for me, a-and I started a fight."

The nurse is quiet for a moment, as she works on fixing what Purpled detached in his haste. "...Unfortunately, after an incident like that, I'm afraid I have to." She gently pats Purpled's arm. "It's just to make sure you're safe overall. They'll ask you some questions, but if there really is nothing to worry about, they'll leave you be, I promise."

The nurses offers Purpled a smile as she stands. "I need to go get some supplies, and a gown for you to change into do you can get out of that bloody mess. Can I ask you to stay put until I get back?"

Fuck.

Fuck, okay. Okay. He's threatened it before, when Purpled was younger and more stubborn, more argumentative, but Punz has never actually left him. They'll talk to CPS and smooth things over, and it'll be fine. It'll be okay. He won't be separated from home for more than, what? A week? A few days?

He nods, only partly listening to the nice woman. She didn't deserve to hear that, to be yelled at like that.

"Yeah. I can just...okay. Um...my-- Jack. Jack's the one who called the ambulance. If he's still here, can I see him after?"

"Oh, the boy in the lobby? He's been asking the staff about you constantly." The nurse smiles warmly. "Well, now that you're awake and fully aware, I don't see why not. I'll let him know that you've asked for him, and I'll bring him in after you've spoken to the social worker. Sound like a plan?"

Purpled looks up, eyes wide, and he has no right to feel as relieved as he does right now. "Please." He nods. "Or-- I mean...who knows when the social worker will get here, right? Maybe I could see him sooner...?" He's teary-eyed and covered in blood, but if it gets him closer to seeing Jack, he'll set his pride aside.

"Please? I promise I won't mess with my stuff again." He gesture to the various tubes and wires around him. "I-I won't even ask for more painkillers."

The nurse taps a finger to her lips in faux thought. "Well.... Tell you what." She gestures down to Purpled's ankle. "Let's get that elevated again, and you can promise me to keep it elevated this time, and I'll see what I can do about getting your friend now. How's that?"

For the first time in what feels like days, Purpled genuinely smiles.

"Deal. I'll be on my best behavior."

Biggest thanks and love in all the land for @warning-heckmouth for all of their patience and magnificent writing talent, without which this entire section of story would be much shorter, and much clumsier. <3 <3

[mcd-ms-rants]

*opens tumblr*

*looks at activity*

8 notes??!!

hhhhh I don’t deserve u all thanks soo much <3

well u asked for it

be warned it’s super lengthy again

STUFF I DIDNT LIKE IN MCD SEASON 2:

��� Right of the bat I’m just gonna say this season is a hot mess

• what is even going on here

• Why is Phoenix Drop so...untouched? Like yes it’s grown old with age but also everything looks ok not like burnt to the ground or anything

• I’m SURE Zane would have told someone in O’Khasis where he was going especially the Jury and you’re telling me that none of them care?? Not even Janus? His fave juror?

• If I were Janus I’d burn it down just sayin

• Why is Irene’s relic so glorified? I SHOULVE INCLUDED THIS IN THE LAST POST BUT WHY TF DOES ZANE NOT USE ESMUNDS RELIC LIKE WHYYY

• I don’t like how Irene has healing and everyone goes wow but we NEVER GET TO SEE ESMUNDS RELIC (I haven’t rewatched MCD in a while if he does use it lmk and ignore the above :) thx) I’m sure it’s pretty powerful considering in s3 Shad says “a spell by Esmund?” when he sees the protective barrier thing around the portal so it’s powerful and the Irene Dimension fight would have gone different with it

• Why does Aphmau act like a shit friend by venting to Laurance and then ditch him when he needs her most? Like you can’t just keep dumping your problems on him he’s got his own to deal with be supportive

• I LOVE VYLAD that’s it that’s all I have to say

• tho I wish we could have seen more of him and the relationship he shared with his brothers cuz angst time

• HOW is Aphmau able to disguise herself as Zane and WHY do people not question it? She has a different build and body structure, different colored eyes, two eyes not one, tan skin and some chest like cmon that disguise is fooling NO ONE also why is it normal for ‘Zane‘ to show up fifteen years after he was last seen? Why does this make no sense

• This may seem a bit much and honestly you’re welcome to your own opinions on it but I feel as though Zane should have had more of a role in s2. Hear me out. The way his character is written is that his untouchable status as a high priest is a big part of his character. It’s why he’s able to get away with so much shit. Removing that like in s3 ruined him (for me) and not using him at all in s2 seems like wasting a perfectly fine (albeit unoriginal) antagonist. Yes it would mean pretty much everything would change but yknow what maybe it needs to

• AARON. That’s it he’s the problem. In my opinion Aarmau should never have happened. Aph is a lord and doesn’t have time for a romantic relationship. Aaron is a broken shell of a man who definitely doesn’t have the time for a romantic relationship. They speak like 5 times properly and even then it’s nothing overly romantic (as far as I know?). I don’t think naming a child counts as romantic I always saw it as familial?? Aarmau ended being a one night stand that caused Aph so much grief and all through I was just thinking that it should never have happened anyway. They should’ve had a strong platonic bond instead. QUEERPLATONIC RELATIONSHIP. Imagine. it would’ve been so much better. It would’ve brought awareness to a community that is not always shown in the spotlight but is as deserving of it. Why does Aaron stick around after Zane is in the Irene Dimension anyway? Didn’t he say that he was there solely for revenge? Isn’t his part done? Why is he still trailing after Aphmau

• THAT DEATH SCENE THO. Zane and Aaron both die from some unknown magical thing. what is it? I have no clue all I remember is that Aph found it somewhere. someone remind me? I don’t understand why Zane was killed off in the very way they were trying to avoid in s1 I get it it’s been fifteen years real time but...it seemed so underwhelming for me. Anyone else?

• Ive seen a lot of people mention this one before but Laurence should’ve been Shad’s descendant not Aaron it didn’t make sense to me

• WHAT IS THE POLITICAL SYSTEM OF O’KHASIS. It’s such a crucial part of MCD yet we never hear of it at all. Since Aph is a lord it matters a lot. I can elaborate more on this if anyone wants me to!!

• WTF is the lore here. In ep 100 Hyria says that Irene had no children and in ms s6 flashbacks I see a child? Whose is it? What is going on??

too tired to add more rn but if you reached here thanks once again I never expected any of this <3

[borderlinehannibal]

Darling, no radfem I've ever spoken to online or irl has ever said that black women have masculine features or look manly. Like, I'm not discounting your experiences, but they are not universal. The only "female" trait is being of the sex that produces the large gamete. That's it. Hell, you don't even have to actually produce the large gamete, just be a part of the biological category that does. Chances are you know this.

Ignoring any arguments about the human races lack of xray vision to spy at people gamete production, i hate asks like this because theyre just. So condescending. Like, damn, the no scotsman fallacy is a polluted lake and yall are swimming no questions asked. If you can understand that not all leftists suck off vaush (but some do), and not all facists are nazis (but many are), you can understand that while not ALL people in your group are racist, SOME ARE.

This performative polite shit is rampant in political spaces on every side, but its almost always turned inwards or at people the group feels can be converted towards your beliefs. You never want to think about the fact that the hugbox you trust and love and have put all your energy and time into understanding and peotecting can also be full of bastards! Theyre just not bastards to YOU. And you have no incentive to heed the words of people they ARE bastards too because theyre people you disagree with.

This is part of how the altright pipeline (and other extremist pipelines like it) works. You get so sucked in by the love and acceptance and learning about new theories and worldviews about why you Cant be in the wrong, youre the victim, youre the one whos been hurt and youve done nothing wrong that you don't notice when everyone else aroud you moved away. And theres only the nazis left.

And yeah, you were hurt! You felt alone! You didnt understand what or why things were happening! But now the only people who can stand being around you are the ones who will point you further down their own bullshit.

Im using the royal you here, im not talking specifically about you who sent this anon, but i need you to think about this. Think about why youre so unwilling to beleive a black man when he says he has been hurt. Think of why youre so unwilling to accept that the people you love can be cruel to others. Ive had to. Ive accepted that you really can't know the people around you, not on the internet at least, not with politics. Understand that you NEVER get the full picture of the people around you. They are their own people with lives and thoughts and feelings you are not privy to. Everyone have skeletons in their closets. And sometimes that means they love to bake or watch adventure time or have a special interest in lost media. But sometimes the skeletons in their closet are literal.

Feel free to reblog this, but im not arguing with anyone. Im tired.

[heavymetalover]

Call Me Daddy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

{i imagined scruffy sojourn michael w this one but i left the description kind of open so yall can imagine whichever teehee}

Summary: Michael is about to become your step dad and the two of you have an unusual relationship…

Warnings: DADDY KINK DUH, smut, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!michael, hickies, rough sex.

WC: 5.5k

A/N: ive done the unforgiven… omg.

this is a different format from my other stuff. i didnt see anyone doing this and yall know me and my daddy issues I HAD TO. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE anon me, message me, whatever, if you want more parts cuz im down.

~~~~

 You had an average run-of-the-mill life with your mom. The two of you lived in a sizable suburban Los Angeles estate; your mom worked for most of her waking hours to keep you comfortable and you worked your ass off to stay in your top college. You had a few friends that would pop into your life when your mom left town, a few boyfriends here and there, even your mom dated around. Everything felt normal until Michael came into the picture.

Your mom has been dating Michael for a few months now, but every time he’s around he brings an eerie feeling along with him. Despite being nearly half her age, he has the soul of somebody from the eighteen hundreds. The way he composes himself, how he speaks with the utmost confidence and how his stares linger too long; his glacial blue eyes always watch you like he can see right through your clothes. 

You’ve been skeptical of him since the day you met him. When you shook his hand and accidentally removed one of his large rings, he nonchalantly told you to keep it. You decided to sell the huge diamond-encrusted Cartier ring and use the twenty thousand dollars to help pay for college.

Since then you’ve avoided the two of them in protest of their relationship. You knew it was juvenile to evade them, but the man turned you on more than you’d like to admit. His soft-waved blonde hair, fluffy lips, jawline for days, prominent cheekbones, and how can you forget the eyes… Everything about him looked planned, like he was designed to be flawless.

On a mundane weekend morning, your mom calls you from downstairs. “Y/n!” her voice echoes through the halls.

You stop reading your favourite book and take out an earbud. “Yeah?!” you yell back, looking up from the pages for a moment and waiting for her to say something else, but the house is silent. You pretend to ignore her call and go back to the story.

“Y/n!” your mom yells again.

You sigh and drop your book, rolling off of your bed and skipping down the stairs to see what fresh hell awaits. As you approach your mom, who’s opening her mouth to call you again, you smell something unusual. Something you haven’t smelt since your dad left. Cologne.

“Honey, he’s here,” your mom whispers to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You try turning away to run back to your room, but your mom stops you. “Can you be nice for once, please?” she begs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with,” you groan and shimmy her hand off of your shoulder.  

Michael works at the dining table, setting up three plates and utensils. You’re planted to the ground in awe, you’ve never had to eat dinner with the two of them before. It crosses your mind that they must be confronting you about bypassing them these past few months, your fight or flight response is already kicking in.

Michael looks up at you, finally acknowledging you and capturing you in his ocean blue eyes with a nanosecond of contact. Your mom moves in between the two of you and takes some food out of a paper bag. “Michael and I wanted all of us to eat dinner together,” she skips to stand beside him. You widen your eyes at her and cross your arms in objection. She widens her eyes back, you can practically hear her nagging you to be polite.

Michael puts his arm around your mom. “Your mother and I thought it best for us to… start acting like a family,” he says.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t hold back your smile. “A family?” you laugh. You purse your lips and start walking backwards, aching to escape Michael’s spell. “Mmm, I think I’ll pass,” you turn around to start walking away.

“Y/n,” your mom snaps. You stop in the middle of a step and twist back towards them, taking small, reluctant steps to approach their little function. “We have something to tell you,” she says and immediately after, vaults her hand out to you.

You take it hesitantly and look at her, still trying to figure them out and failing. “What?” you ask.

“No, honey, look at it,” she rolls her eyes, “look at my hand.”

You gawk at her hand, her third finger is dressed in a huge diamond ring. It looks big enough to pay off your whole house. You unintentionally let out a dramatic gasp and drop her hand, she continues to hold it up for you. “It’s the bloodiest diamond he could find in the LA area,” she explains, “We’re in love.” She smiles and places her hand on Michael’s chest, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes. He gifts a small kiss on her lips.

You scoff and shake your head. Any tension that you felt from Michael has dissolved. He’s been dating your mom for five months, five fucking months. Who does he think he is? Are they both nuts? “You’re joking, right?” you ask, completely stunned by how brash the whole situation is. “Are you guys pranking me?”

Michael grins at you, it makes you melt and you hate yourself for it. “Call me daddy,” he sneers.

----

It’s a quaint Wednesday evening when you decide to take a break from studying and grab a snack. You’re scrolling through Tumblr when you walk out of your room and smash your face against a sturdy chest. “Jesus!” you gasp, looking up at Michael standing in front of your door; one of his hands is in a fist, ready to knock on your door, while the other is behind his back. “You scared the shit out of me!” You playfully push his chest away from you, trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He drops his fist as he stumbles back slightly. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since they announced their engagement. Michael moved in about a month ago and it’s been hard to ignore him since he sits, day in day out, typing away on his laptop in your living room.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “But I have to admit it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to act casual as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you completely. “Did my mom come home from work or something? She send you here?” you ask, declining his attempts to meet your eyes, instead you stare at his lapel.

“No, I got you something,” he explains, wiggling the surprise behind his back.

“Another Cartier ring?” you joke. “Oh, or is it a new girlfriend? Because that would be even better.” His eyes find the ceiling in annoyance and it feels rewarding, you were starting to think he couldn’t be cracked. “Did you get me an apartment, so I don’t have to live with another failed marriage?”

“No,” he snaps back, starting to sound impatient with your infantile attitude. You straighten up at his belligerent tone. He slides into your room, keeping the gift hidden behind his back. “It’s thoughtful, something I know you’d like, but… if you’re hellbent on loathing my existence, why should I be so kind?” he asks. He somehow manages to speak reserved, yet impossibly intimidating. Every word that leaves his lips demands to be heard, it sends chills down your spine. “Right?” he prompts.

You take in a breath. “Right,” you force yourself to agree, mostly because you’re curious to see what the present is. Another part of you is getting bored of acting like a hermit and going days without social interaction. “Obviously it feels weird; I barely know you and you’re becoming my dad and you moved in, everything just seems so fast,” you explain yourself. You saunter back into your room to meet him. “I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry, Michael. Seriously.”

He takes a step closer to you, you’re only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. “We’ll work on ‘Michael’ later,” he replies. You’re about to question what he means by that when he takes the present out from behind his back. He holds a black bag in between the two of you and you immediately recognize the store. “I heard you on the phone with your friend about something red, lacey, with a bow. I think I found it…”

You take the Victoria’s Secret bag from him without saying a word. You have no words to say. You don’t know if you should thank him or refuse the gift or slap him for listening to your personal conversations. Your mind races wondering if you’d gossiped about his good looks on the phone with your friend.

You silently pry open the bag and paw through the lingerie, mountains of cute panties and bras, digging through things you were never able to afford but always wanted. And, of course, Michael bought the red, lacey one piece you were talking about with your friend. There’s a stillness in the room as you look through the bag. “You bought all of this for me?”

“Yeah, I can’t see how your mom would fit into any of those.”

All of the pieces are just your size, it’s the perfect gift… just not from your stepdad. “How did you even know my size?” you stop looking at the bag and make the mistake of falling into his eyes.

“I went through your clothes,” he carelessly shrugs.

You drop the present by your side. “You went through my clothes, like, my lingerie?”

He slowly nods his head, acting as if it isn’t strange for him to invade your privacy how he did. You huff and he begins looking agitated with you again. “Would you like if I returned all this stuff? I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” you mutter and kick the bag away from him, you’re not jeopardizing this gift with your uncontrollable sass.

“Good,” he spits back.

“Just… don’t think you can just buy yourself into the family,” you mock. You catch yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest to give yourself a breast lift, but you don’t stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks. He looks down at your cleavage and it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. “You have quite the collection of lingerie you keep hidden at the bottom of your drawers,” he observes, “like a dirty guilty pleasure.” You peer up at him, again trying to read him, and again failing. He uses one of his fingers to hook onto the thin fabric of your shirt, your tits are practically pouring out and begging to be the center of attention. He tugs at the fabric, looking under your shirt and inspecting your boobs suffocated in one of your intimate Victoria’s Secret pickups. “Kitten’s all dressed up?” he whispers, his fingertips graze the embroidered details.

You bite your lip, anticipating the second he’ll rip the bra off your chest. “It’s all for you,” you tease, pushing your tits together even more, “I’m always dressed up for you, Michael.”

He breathes in, groaning under his breath. “I thought I told you,” his voice is low and intimidating, “call me daddy.”

You’re drinking in a breath of his cologne, shifting onto the tips of your toes to give his soft lips a rugged kiss, when the sound of keys rattling downstairs takes you out of it. Michael still stares at you, his fingers continue to linger over your clothed tits. “Michael!” your mom calls from downstairs.

You look up at him with fear in your puppy dog eyes and Michael grins. He shoots you one last, knowing, glance before leaving your room. He leaves you without saying two words. “Yeah, babe,” he answers your mom, closing your bedroom door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

----

Holding back your gags, you grasp your friend’s hair as she projectile vomits peach schnapps into an expensive toilet bowl. Her phone rings in her pocket and you huff, digging through the pockets of the leather jacket you lent her and pulling out a vibrating iPhone. You pick up the phone with an ill “hello”, answering too late and looking down at the screen. She must’ve ordered an Uber a while ago, there’s a ton of notifications that the driver’s outside. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Your ride is here!” you yell at her, trying to pull her onto her feet.

“What?!” she yells into the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes and lean down beside her ear, “I said, your ride is here!” you yell over the thumping music.

Your friend stumbles around, trying to stand up in her six-inch heels. You pull her onto you and her head rests on your shoulder, she goes limp against you. “Stop, come on!” you shout over the music. “You have to g-”

You’re cut off by your friend puking onto an expensive mini dress you bought for tonight’s party. This shindig was supposed to be a fun little escape from your school life, your home life, Michael, all your stress. You expected to make new friends, meet hot guys, but instead you came an hour late and have been nursing your friend the whole night. You’re seriously going to kick her ass tomorrow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her breath reeking of throw up.

You toss her arm over your shoulder and start walking her out of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?” you say in her ear and she lets out a small, apologetic whimper.

A cute guy who was talking you up earlier approaches the two of you. He holds two red cups in his hands and shrugs when he sees you. “What the fuck, y/n? You disappeared on me!” he talks to you over the bass-y music. “I got our drinks!” he shakes the cups in his hands and hands one over to you, as if completely ignoring your drunken friend hanging off of your side.

Your friend staggers, nearly bringing you down with her. The cute guy helps you pick her back up and you sigh, annoyed at how much of a disaster your night has turned into. He knits his eyebrows at your sour attitude, then finding the vomit on your dress, he looks back up at you. You see his doe eyes grow apologetic when he mouths a weak “sorry” to you, stepping out of your way. You shake your head as if telling him it’s fine; you just wish you had more time to get to know him.

You continue dragging your friend along your side and hear someone call out your name from behind you. You whip your head around; your hair irritatingly sticks to your lip-gloss. “Hope to see you again!” he calls after you. You nod in his direction and resume walking your friend, who is nearly passed out on your shoulder, to the front door. When you walk out of the house, you’re assaulted with the smell of salt water. Despite this night turning into one of the most frustrating nights of your life, at least you got to visit a Malibu beach house.

A big, black SUV is parked outside of the house and you rush her to the door. Opening the backseat and stuffing her inside the seats in the back. “The app says where you’re taking her, right?” you ask the Uber driver, your voice sounds muted from being struck by loud music all night.

He nods and reads out her address. “Y/n,” your friend slurs, gripping onto your arm with all her strength, “you’re a really nice… you’re a… you’re a really good friend, you know that? Like, seriously,” she pauses to hiccup, “thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Her words are so slurred that it’s nearly impossible to make out her compliment, but you just nod in hopes it’ll get her to let go. She drops your arm and hands you your pricey leather jacket, bunched up in a ball, before shutting the van door.

You throw on your jacket, protecting yourself from the ocean’s breeze, and watch the van drive away when you notice a familiar car parked across the street. The SUV blocked a four-seater Maserati parked on the other side of the road. Michael’s sedentary in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You balance yourself on your ridiculously tall heels and stomp over to his car. He doesn’t even see you coming, he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat reading a book.

You crouch down and knock on the glass of his window. His eyes meet yours for a second and he slowly rolls down the window. A mob of cigarette smoke escapes the car and he chucks the stick onto the pavement. You’re both quiet for a few moments, the crashing ocean waves fills up the silence.  “How did you know I was here?” you ask.

He finally puts down his book and looks at you. “Just trying to be a good dad,” he responds.

“Ugh, ew,” you groan. “You’re my step dad.”

He adjusts his seat to start driving, his eyes looking you up and down as he does. “Looks like your night went a little… rough,” he jokes and nods towards the puke on your dress. “You need a ride?”

You look back at the party. As much as you wanted to live up the night, you’re already in too much of a bad mood to go back in there. It doesn’t help that your new dress is covered in puke, too. You turn back around to Michael, he awaits your answer with a cocked brow. “You can’t tell mom,” you sigh, walking around the car to get into the passenger’s seat. The luxury car’s butterfly doors obnoxiously open up for your entry. “Not a word,” you assure him as you slide into the leather seat.

He starts up the car and one of his Led Zeppelin albums begins to play. “I picked you up at the library,” he quips.

He starts driving along the empty coast and you decide to skip the seatbelt, you don’t want to dirty his car with your friend’s retch. His eyes glance over to your seat for a moment, he notices you second guessing the seatbelt and puts a hand on your thigh. You look up at him and intuitively try to tempt him, biting your bottom lip and batting your lashes. “I’ll protect you if we crash,” he whispers, his fingers lightly caress your thighs.

You put your hand on his and slide him further up your leg. He keeps one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but when his eyes do meet yours, it makes all the nerves in your core feel like a wave pool. Your dress is short enough for him to reach your panties without any hassle. Your hand is on his when his fingers begin to rub your pussy, still dressed in a pair of panties he bought you. “Baby’s already wet for daddy,” he says under his breath, kneading your clit in small circles.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies, you’ve never felt a nervousness so intense before. A rush of thoughts suddenly violates your mind, you try to shut them up but they keep coming. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re disgusting for enjoying this. His fingers have been in your mom before.

You dig your nails into his skin and pull his hand away from you; bending over in your seat and clutching onto your stomach. You only had one drink tonight, you shouldn’t be feeling this sick.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, “are you okay?”

“I think I need air,” you grumble through the sudden sickness. “Can you pull over?”

Michael only takes a minute to find an empty parking lot on the beach and pull into it. You get out of the car without saying a word to him and take off your heels, throwing them into the backseat of his car. You’re already starting to feel your anxiety subside as you shuffle through the cool sand and pace towards the erratic waves crashing on shore. This is one of the reasons you loved LA, the tons of tiny, empty beaches. The ocean at night, and how it constantly smelt like salt water, how it relaxed you.

The breeze blew through your hair, a part of you felt like running into the crashing waves, but a voice took you out of it. “Y/n!” Michael called behind you, over the sound of the whistling wind. He trudges in the sand to get to you; you faintly snicker at his dedication. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s closer to you.

When you see him, face glowing in the moon light, golden locks blowing in the ocean breeze, face twisted with concern, it all settles. Everything feels like it’s in the right place. Your stomach, although still turning with butterflies, no longer feels sick.

There’s a pause between the two of you; both of you deciding to admire each other instead of the beautiful ocean view beside you. Then, it feels like everything clicks. Like the two of you mentally communicate your longing for each other, your desire. Both shutting your eyes and diving in for a kiss at the same time.

His lips smash against yours, sucking your face, and his tongue quickly invades your mouth. He kisses you like he’s craved your lips for years, passionately cleaning up your mouth with his eager tongue.

Michael works your jacket off of your shoulders and you shimmy it to the ground. He unzips your dress, the zip running along your naked back sends a shiver crawling down your spine. He abandons your lips for a moment to pull down your dress, exposing your bare chest and expensive panties. You’re too lost in lust to even realize you’re half naked on a public beach.

You’re both panting and releasing all of the built-up sexual tension. He stands back up and kisses you again, his hands cup your ass and he gives an echoed smack; his fingers creep down your legs. He grabs onto the back of your thighs and hoists you up, you lightly yelp into his mouth and wrap your legs around him. His large hands hold you up and he leans down, resting you onto the jacket you’ve thrown onto the sand.

Once you’re laid down, he begins rubbing your pussy again. His cold rings adding a different sense of pleasure as he rubs you into entropy. He slides your feeble panties to the side and spits down on your cunt, shoving his finger inside you. You moan at the sudden intrusion, taking in a breath of the salt-scented air. “That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers, adding in another finger, “I want to hear you moan for daddy.”

You take in a breath and whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, slowly pulsing against your g-spot. He touches you as if he already knows which parts make you crumble. “Ooh yeah, daddy,” you cry and grind on his fingers, pushing him deeper inside you, “right there.”

“You’re my dirty little slut, huh?” he asks, gliding in another finger. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Little girl likes to get fucked by her daddy?” He adds another finger, completely stretching you out. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t reply. “I asked you a question.”

You meet his cold eyes for a second, before you throw your head back in pleasure. “Yes!” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise in your body. Your sensitive cunt throbs under his gluttonous fingers, persistently fucking you and begging for more. “Yes, oh, keep fucking me just like that, daddy!”

His fingers find a rhythm inside of you, constantly bringing you to the brink of climax and slowing down. “Such a dirty little girl,” he teases and spits on your soaking cunt. He pulls out his fingers and holds them to your lips. You grab his hand and suck on his long fingers, tasting the cool metal rings mixed with the sweet taste of your pussy.

You sit up and lock your lips with his again. Both, you and Michael, unbutton his shirt; you want to feel his flesh against yours as soon as possible. When you get to the bottom, you slide your hands up his body and square the shirt off of his shoulders. His perfect, porcelain skin shines in the moonlight. You want to appreciate it for a moment, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He’s propped on his knees, unzipping his black pants and bringing them down to pull his erection out of his briefs. It springs out when you start grabbing for it, he moves back and clicks his tongue. “My greedy little girl,” he mocks, “you don’t get a taste until daddy says you do.”

He pushes you down with one of his hands. His touch is so delicate, yet so commanding. Everything he does is done with conviction and a power that only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, girthy length over you, you’re practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it into the head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

You sit up and weakly spit on the tip of his cock; it’s too late when you notice your mouth is dry from nervousness. He shakes his head. “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even spit on me right,” he sneers, divorced from the nasty words leaving his lips. He presses his dick against your folds and your fingers curl into your jacket, awaiting the moment he plunges into you. “Say the word, baby girl, say you want me,” he’s lingering at your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, your pussy is beating against his hard cock, “please dad.”

He pushes his head inside you and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He’s so thick, you’ve never felt something so large obtruding your tight cunt. He moves in slowly, reading your stunned facial expressions to see if he should continue stuffing himself inside of you. You let out tiny weeps as he digs deeper into your hole, but you can’t manage much more.

Michael thrusts himself into you until he’s balls deep, even he can’t help but groan. “My little girl is so fucking tight,” he grunts under his breath. He starts to hammer himself into you, going so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. His cock is so thick that it hits every nerve you could imagine; it’s hard to gather a single word.

He lets out a small chuckle at your reticence. “My innocent baby’s never felt a real cock before, huh?” he taunts, still pounding his length into you. You open your mouth to speak, but settle on shaking your head. One distinct tear runs down the side of your face while stifled cries pass your trembling lips with each time his balls smack into your ass. “You’re taking me like a good fucking girl,” he admires, “my good little slut.”

He lifts up your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted onto your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he pounds into your cunt. Michael’s new positioning hits exactly in your g-spot, you feel your leg shaking under his grip. “H-holy shit,” your voice trembles, you let out a built-up breath. “Keep going, daddy! Right there, right there, I’m so close,” you’re begging, voice is flooded with desperation. You don’t care how childish you sound, you want nothing more than to come all over Michael’s big dick. “Don’t move, please, please,” you grab onto his arm again.

Tears overflow your eyes when you look into his. Just seeing his determined light blue eyes peering back at you makes you unravel even more. He has no remorse for how weak he’s making you, how vulnerable you’ve become, his unmistakable dominion turns you on.

He listens to your wails, finally granting you the satisfaction you’ve been begging for and plows into your g-spot. Your grip on him gets tighter as he thrusts harder, you’re almost certain he’s going to leave some swelling deep inside your cunt. “Your dick is so, fucking, good,” you breathe in between thrusts.

Michael doesn’t give up, keeping up the same pace and fucking you exactly how you want him to. You’re about to praise his long cock some more when you’re thrown into climax. You try looking back up at him, but you can’t say a word; your mouth hangs wide open with nothing but small chokes croaking out. He can see how dazed he’s made you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing your nose against the leather of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he seethes, suffocating your head into your jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

He continues punching your g-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his rough thrusts. He holds both of your arms back, shifting you into doggy-style. His balls slap against your sore clit and you feel yourself starting to ejaculate. “Fuck!” you scream into the breeze of the empty beach. Your cunt twitches and gushes its balmy juices all over Michael’s hard cock.

He slows down his pace and pulls your arms up towards him, you feel his heaving chest against your back. “What did I just fucking say?” he fumes, tugging your arms even closer to him. “Answer me.”

“You told me not to come,” you answer in a syrupy, naïve voice.

He grabs both of your tits to push you flush against him, maintaining his rough thrusts into your cunt. “That’s right,” he whispers in your ear, “baby didn’t fucking listen.” He smacks your tits with both of his hands, striking you hard. You jump at how ruthless he hits you, it makes your stomach flutter again. His full lips lug along your neck. “Remember who you belong to,” he speaks into your neck, sending an iciness throughout your entire body.

Michael digs his teeth into your skin, sucking up your flesh while he continues massaging your breasts, pinching at the hard peaks your nipples have formed. He sucks so hard it stings, you wonder how that would feel on your pussy. His love bite begins to hurt and you shift your head away from him, he snickers. “Who do you belong to?” he whispers, lips chafing the shell of your ear.

He pinches your nipples even harder and you sob in pleasure. “Mmm, you,” you respond, looking over your shoulder to give his lips a frail kiss. “I belong to you, daddy.”

He takes in a deep breath as if shaking off your spell and regaining his confidence. He pushes you onto the ground again and goes back to fucking you like a ragdoll. “You better remember that,” he breathes, mercilessly pummeling himself into you again.

He holds both of your arms back once more, driving himself into you so hard that you’re concerned about cervix bruising. His pace slows down a bit and you look back at him, his mouth drapes open and he stares down at the back of your head. He pushes you away as he orgasms, savagely shoving your face back into the ground, as you feel his warm seed spilling inside your wet cunt. Michael groans from deep within his chest, letting out a long sigh when he’s done. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy bitch.”

You let out a little giggle at this and he joins. He hauls himself out of you and you feel all of your muscles relax. You shift onto your back, looking up at Michael in disbelief. You’re too caught up in euphoria to comprehend what just happened. All you can think of in this moment is how fucking good he was. Even Michael has a dumbfounded look on his face.

He shakes his head and liberates a nervous laugh, “We’re so fucked up.”

You can say that again.

[spell-cleaver]

Astrophilia

This is my project for @star-wars-wlweek! 

Leia and Qi'ra can fight others and each other with words and weapons easily enough, but trust in themselves is harder to come by, and may be what keeps them apart.

Or: five universes in which they almost, but not quite, find each other, and one universe where they do.

Read it on AO3 or FFN instead.

*

Day 1: Gay Awakening | Pirate AU

The gay awakening in this isn’t quite as clear as I wanted it to be, nor is the gay super clear; I’m not great at writing romance. I hope you enjoy it anyway :D

In one universe of many, Qi’ra boarded a covert attack ship named the Striker.

Bring me the little rich rat, Lady Proxima had told Qi’ra, her decadent jewellery glinting in the dim, murky light of her pool. If there were any rich rats around here, Qi’ra couldn’t help but think, it was her. She and her senator father want to ‘clean us up,’ drive out the gangs. She needs taking care of.

Not necessarily murder, she knew, though Qi’ra had certainly done worse in her years of servitude. Han, the big softie, never liked the dirtier jobs, but Qi’ra still had her eyes on the role of enforcer and she wouldn’t get that if she played nice. Whatever Proxima wanted done to this Princess of Alderaan, she would do it.

Better her than Qi’ra.

And the job came with some perks, as well. She’d been allowed into a ship off-planet for the first time ever. Corellia was putrid on the ground level, but seeing it from above was a different matter: seas of grey-green waste, textured tumbles of built-up civilisation that had been run down three centuries ago, the white-capped poles blemished with black and grey.

Everyone around her was oohing and aahing at the skies and the million stars that Corellia’s piss-coloured lights washed away. But Qi’ra kept her eyes on the planet below.

She had never seen another world but she knew her own was a shit hole. There was no point forgetting that—especially when she had a job to do.

Corellia’s junkyard that passed for rings was an ideal place to hide a scrappy pirate ship, bartered from the Hutts and fixed up with spit and miracles. Qi’ra fingered the small blaster she’d been trusted with for this mission, gripping the accompanying stun baton tightly.

Han shot her a grin from the co-pilot’s seat but she ignored it. The Worms’ primary pilot grunted at him to focus.

Qi’ra focused too. The Tantive IV, the diplomatic ship captained by Raymus Antilles, owned by Senator Bail Organa, used by Princess Leia Organa on her numerous sanctimonious relief missions. Corellia, as one of Alderaan’s nearest neighbours, was getting the brunt of some of her efforts first, and if she managed to get enough relief and policing there, she might even shut down the White Worms.

They couldn’t do that. Qi’ra had fought so hard, all these years, to be where she was now. She wouldn’t lose it.

The Tantive IV winked into realspace on the edge of Corellian airspace and Han hacked their comms with barely a thought.

“—Princess Leia Organa, here for the scheduled relief mission—”

Even her voice was pretentious and fake. She’d be easy to kidnap, then hopefully easy for Proxima to intimidate. Actually, killing a Core world princess might be problematic politically, but it was amazing what the Empire would turn a blind eye to if they didn’t like the politician.

Tank, the Aqualan leader of the mission, grunted his instructions. “Attack. Now.”

Han jammed the Tantive’s comms. Qi’ra finally replied to his grin with a grim smile as he patted her on the shoulder, then stood with the boarding team as the Striker careened towards the Tantive and opened fire.

The next few minutes were a blur. The ships jerked as they connected, the Striker seizing the Tantive’s airlock like a snake seized a rat between its jaws. Qi’ra rocked with the motion and was one of the first fighters on the ground when the doors hissed open.

They met fierce resistance from the bodyguards. Bolts flew, blew molten plasma across the metal walls, but there were more intruders than defenders and soon they were retreating back down the corridor, shooting haphazardly over their shoulders.

“Secure the escape pods!” came Tank’s shout. “Locate the target!”

Qi’ra sprinted down the corridor and took the first left where everyone else fanned out across the ship. A few men Qi’ra didn’t know followed her. She kept an eye on them as she went: one blue-skinned Twi’lek and one gruff human. She trusted neither of them not to try to steal glory for themselves, but she could take them if they did.

They came upon the first escape pod and shot the controls, disabling it. Then the next. Then the next. The engine room and other guts of the ship expanded on their right, and it took everything in her not to jump at shadows.

She did jump when the bolt came.

It struck the human man in the chest; he went down instantaneously. Qi’ra whipped her head around and returned fire, forcing the attacker to retreat to where their aim was less deadly.

The Twi’lek wasn’t so wise. He grunted and barged forwards, punching out shots in a rapid staccato, but in a few moments he was nailed in the lek, then the forehead. Qi’ra grimaced at the splatter of blood and brains.

That was a mistake. Her moment of distraction saw her attacker dive with range again; they shot right through her ponytail and left her hair a sticky mess. She did the only thing she could do: she brawled.

They weren’t expecting her to leap. Qi’ra’s fist landed right in a chest—where she’d thought the abdomen would be, but her attacker was smaller than expected. She used that: yanked them towards her, under the glaring lights, before they could shoot again.

She stared.

Her assailant—a young woman with intricate braids and a stony expression—pulled herself up to her full, diminutive height and glared.

She was, Qi’ra hated to admit, highly attractive.

She brought up her blaster. Qi’ra kicked it out of her grip and was backhanded for her troubles. Small hands gripped her own blaster fiercely and she twisted away, snarled—tossed the blaster aside rather than give it up. It scattered into the next escape pod.

The woman—Princess Organa, it had to be—dived for it. Qi’ra tackled her. They rolled across the floor, faces inches apart, and Qi’ra tried to fight the paralysis when they locked eyes.

She lifted her hands to punch again, but Organa gripped her wrists.

“Who are you people,” she hissed. “Why are you attacking!?”

“I just need another mission under my belt, Princess,” Qi’ra grunted, trying to free herself. Organa’s grip was strong. “’Else I’m back out on the streets.”

“That’s why we’re here, I’m here to help—”

“I can’t trust help from a stranger.”

“Then get out of my way.”

Organa struck Qi’ra across the face and she fell to the side, cursing. She scrambled for the escape pod.

“Oh no you don’t,” she hissed, but Organa already had the blaster. Qi’ra leapt in after her and rolled to duck the bolt that soared past her ear.

It struck the button to detach instead.

No.

No.

Organa smiled grimly and pulled a lever. The airlock disengaged. They were floating in space, untethered.

“I have no interest in being captured by whoever you work for,” Organa spat.

“Captured? Pah. Lady Proxima just wants you and your relief efforts out of the way.” Qi’ra eyed the blaster but didn’t dive for it again. She glanced at the controls, the ship—the shots from the Striker just missing their pod. “We had orders to fire on any escape pods that were released.”

Organa went white. “You’re saying we’re going to die.”

“You’ve killed us both, yeah.”

Organa swore in a language Qi’ra didn’t know. “I hate you.”

“It’s mutual, trust me.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Likewise.”

“But sit your sorry backside down there.” Organa grabbed her arm and frogmarched her to the only seat in the escape pod. “And steer.”

“Steer?”

“I’m going to escaped this. I want to live.” Organa eyed the Tantive and the Striker getting smaller with every spiralling moment. Bright shots shattered out from them and puckered their hull. “My question is: do you?”

When Qi’ra laid hands on the controls, they were hot and shaking under her touch.

[rickriordanfandam]

opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear 

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were  thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing 

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes 

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below) 

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/ 

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture 

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry 

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong. 

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up.  the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more