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purestxblood · 1 year

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𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫

(𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙛!𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

You could’t remember a time where you didn’t love Miles...you’d just wish he’d open up his heart and see it.

Adult!Spider. Adult!Reader. Nicknamed!Reader. Fluff ☁ . 3.2 k words.

Your eyes rested at a close while your body nestled perfectly in the patch of flowers. Petals were dancing across your abdomen, while your palms were open, stems tickling their ways as they interlaced your fingers, creating floral jewelry around your hands and up your arms.

Tranquility. Bliss. Solace. Home.

Upon your back, succumbed to the florals and scents of bloom inhibiting your nose, were one of the only times where you truly felt at peace and connected to the lingering hope and feeling of home– a time where you weren’t just orphaned but connected to the mother who bore you in her womb. In the brush, patches of flowers, you were being held by the mother you wish you knew.

You had heard stories of your mother – a scientist– obsessed with nature and plants, primarily floral forms throughout Pandora. It was no surprise that the second you could walk, you were throwing yourself into fields of luminous bloom, connecting yourself to the flowers lingering about the forest.

“Every flower has a story– a life about the bloom, emotions and stories they carry. You’ll protect them my Flora, when I can no longer, and in the end they’ll protect you.”

When your mother had died, far too young for you to understand, you hadn’t shed one tear. You watched as her body dissolved into poppy, luminous gold twinkling in farewell until in time she’d return in full bloom.

You were connected at the touch of a stem, inhale of nectar, and stroke of a petal. Her adoration towards nature had resided in you and among the posy you found yourself. It was as if each stem caressed your skin while the tips of their petals would lull you away in song, nurturing you as they sang you to tranquil.

In between harmonic bloom, you could hear faint snaps of bare feet squishing among the brush.

He’s coming, the petals would whisper to your ear, he’s near.

Without a hint, you knew he was standing before you. There was a scent lingering upon your nose, a mixture of his natural musk twine from his forest runs. You were in a meadow higher than normal– hiding underneath whimsical flowers that entrapped you within their luminous bloom. He would’ve had to track you in order to find you, which you knew he had done so, savoring you for last as you had heard bursts of laughter from the Sully kids echoing about.

You stilled, waiting for him to uncover you yet what felt like minutes passed, your eyes snapped open one at a time. Your eyes peered between gappings of flowers, yet all you could see were blue skies in between greens of tree canopy. Pressing your palms among the ground, you slowly lifted yourself up, petals upon petals showering you to pool around your waist.

The ambiance of the forest were the only tunes soothing your ear drums, the sound of laughter being a mere memory. Your waist twisted side to side as you surveyed the area, your eyes squinting as you grazed over every crevice.

“Got ya!”

The sound of Spider’s voice, vibrated against your ear as he pressed his mouth to your skin while his hands grasped you by your sides, pulling you back to lay down. A soft squeal of surprise had squirried through your lips as you moved.

In a swift union, he had dragged your body with his, lifting you up and over until you were straddling his frame. His arms enveloped your lower half while your hands perched around his head, brow arching. “Who’s got who, hm?”

Spider’s head quirked to the side as he peered up at you. His fingers twitched around your hips, the pads of his fingers tracing the bareness of exposed skin underneath your top. An ample sense of delightful longing bubbled in your stomach. Your palms fisted the brush as you held yourself upward, your eyes fixated upon Spider’s dark gaze.

The masks upon your face were a blessing and a curse, and in this moment you didn’t know which one you hated more: the fact that the oxygen and glass kept you from brushing your face to his or prevented you from giving into the desire of filling his lips on yours. You didn’t know whether it was a good thing or not… you didn’t know how he’d react or if he even felt it too.

You pushed the thought of longing to the back of your mind, focusing upon the main task at hand. You were determined to hold your weight but by the way Spider’s fingers caressed your sides, the more your body gave way to relishing in the sensations of his touch. He knew exactly what feelings he was evoking, he just had to. The bulge nudging your inner thigh as you straddled him solidified it.

The beat of your heart intensified and your eyes closed – and for what felt like minutes of serendipity, had only been short lived. Just as he sensed your body give in to his, Spider devoured your break of vulnerability to deter your body to pin you underneath him.

Your eyes snapped open to meet Spider’s grin of pride, “I do!”

Spider broke into a fit of laughter and you huffed, shoving him backwards and off of you.

“I had to, you cheated,” he stated as he scooted himself to sit towards the end of the meadow. “I did not cheat,” you swallowed, fixing your clothes to cover your skin properly. You crossed your legs as you sat next to him, noticing how flowers had been smashed in the process of your downfall.

You frowned, wrapping your fingers around the petals, smoothing them out and fixing their stems. Spider watched you intently as you took each flower and brought it back to life. You could feel him fixated upon you until he too began soothing the flowers underneath his legs.

You both sat in silence until you could hear the Sully’s nearing close. You glanced upward, watching as Kiri leaped from a branch and fell into a pool of water, laughter erupting as she broke air.

Spider’s attention drifted between you and Kiri, a smile toying upon his dimples.

“Flora.”

Your name upon his mouth made you hum. You looked to him in question, watching as his brown eyes roamed from the top of your hair to your bare toes then back up to meet your face. “You’re a girl,” he said to which you rolled your eyes, “glad you have taken notice, it’s only been how many years?” Spider shook his head and dismissed your sarcasm with his hand, “no,” he scrunched his mouth, “that’s not what I meant.”

Your brows lifted in curiosity, urging him with your eyes to continue expanding upon his obvious observation. Spider was silent. His shoulders slouched as he picked a spring flower you had just rejuvenated, his fingers toying with the petals as his face scrunched together at his nose in bewilderment. You could see the inner workings of his thoughts jumbling about as he stared aimlessly while wrapping the stem around his index finger.

“How do you know when you love someone?”

His question caused your own brows to furrow and you tilted your head, “Sorry?” you hummed, urging him with your eyes to continue.

Spider persisted, shrugging his shoulders as he tossed the flower. Your hand reached out, catching it in your palm, before delicately returning it to his patch. You frowned at his carelessness to which he sheepishly smiled apologetically.

How do you know when you love someone?

The answer was too broad. There were various attributes towards knowing your feelings of friendship had grown dire throughout the years. Considering Spider had them in question, only solidified that you had been quite secretive as you hoped.

“I think it depends on the person,” you stated, “like there’s different types of love so to say.”

You only had one crush in your lifetime (it’s not like you had many options to choose from) but you were certain that regardless, if there had been many your age throughout the years that your eyes and heart would still be set on Spider.

Granted, there was one time you found your heart accelerating when a Na’vi boy asked you to dance at a night dance when you were sixteen. With him, you would say it’s more so the puppy type love you read about in the romance books lingering about the library. Still, your feelings for the Avatar had been short lived when moments after he kissed you, he had been smug, stating to the rest of his friends in the tribe he could woo a sky person.

You absolutely hated that. Hated that your first kiss had been lost to someone you mistook for love. He used you for his own demise and you hated that; and so did Spider upon finding you crying just after. He took your first heartbreak into his hands by punching the Avatar straight in the nose. Spider had lost that fight but still, the way your heart rapidly pounded against your chest, you knew that the crush – the puppy love – you felt towards the Na’vi boy had been silly.

The way your heart felt kissing the Na’vi was nothing compared to the way it felt when Spider comforted you in his chest and hit the Na’vi for playing you like a piece of chess.

Then there were the Sully’s.

Like Spider, the family had taken you as one, providing you with the love of family that you hadn’t endured since you were carried in your mother’s womb. You didn’t have the love of a mother but you felt the idealistic love of a father and siblings and though Neteyam was near your range of age, you didn’t feel the same type of love you felt towards Spider.

There were varied types of love you were certain.

“We love our family,” you began, “that’s obviously nothing compared to the love we feel towards others…like…remember when I had my first kiss?”

Spider’s lips churned into a frown and he kicked out his leg, “do I want to?”

You shoved him at the shoulder and chuckled low. “Well, with him, when he kissed me my chest felt tight, I was nervous and felt like I had tiny bugs tickling my toes,” you thought back to the memory, “but it was nice and my heart beat really fast, it’s like that cute young puppy love, you know, it was once there when you’re young but–”

“But what?!” he jerked, his voice breaking you midway.

“That feeling was nothing compared to…” you paused in consideration, breaking your attention from Spider to look down at the falls of water. You were playing the words in your head, forming sentences and depending whether or not to voice them aloud. You always kept them to yourself, spilling your secrets to the flowers instead. It felt different trying to piece them together to say aloud to the one person they were truly about.

“It’s nice when we’re young,” you continue, “we…well, at least I, stars know you’ve never picked up a book,” you slightly tease while Spider rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance. You lightly giggle before going on, “in the books I read when I was young, there’s always a prince whisking the girl away to a castle, they’re stories with happy endings, simplicity… It's simple when we’re young because at the time we don’t think about future ends… we think about the picnics, the dances, how you want the other to see you, the first kisses where you feel like you have thousands of butterflies fluttering in your belly… It's puppy love.”

“But real, true real love, you start to think of the realities… you think of the person you want to grow with,” you toyed with the stem of a flower, lifting it to Spider with a smile on your lips, “of who you want beside you when it rains and your petals can’t hold upward, the person who will do whatever they can to help shield you and bring out the sun so you can continue to grow as one until you make a meadow of your own.”

Spider let out a breathy chuckle, “you and your flowers…I like that though.”

“Have you?” he began then shook his head as if the thought was stupid.

Your heart stammered, “have I what?”

Spider pursed his lips then met your eyes, “felt that kind of love?”

No. The word yelled in your head, liar, the flowers roared. This was your moment to reveal the truth, even if it meant altering your friendship but, what if something more were to blossom? It was worth a shot.

“Yes,” you admitted hesitantly.

With who?

You wanted him to ask you. You wanted him to continue to pry this feeling of love and who you felt it towards. As stars twinkling nights away, you longed to find the courage to reveal the way he made your insides warm. This, this was your breakaway.

“I think,” his brows furrowed as he focused once more upon the Sully’s and Kiri splashing around the streams, “I think, that’s how I feel about Kiri,” he admitted.

Those eight words made the blood in your veins grow cold. The corners of your lips twitched and your smile drew to a thin mold.

Spider continued to speak, however, you couldn’t process anything spewing from his confession.

That’s how I feel about Kiri.

It felt as if you were watching endless grazes of flowered meadows burn to a tortuous crisp and no matter how hard you tried to revive the stems and bring them back to life, with each attempt the new growth wilted and burned in your palms.

Spider’s hand touched your thigh, “Flora?”

You looked to his hand upon your leg and then to his concerned face. Your face narrowed into annoyed anger and you shook your head.

“You’re so dense,” you huffed, lightly placing your palm to his forehead and giving him a shove. Sliding from the branch, you left Spider by his lonesome. “Wait,” he called. You ignored his demands to stop, his eagerness to get you to listen, only making the pride in your stride greater, sliding through the brush until you were back in the trailer.

Tossing your mask off, you squeezed your way through, quickening your steps into your room. Your fingers went to grip the lock, however, just before you could slide it into place, Spider pushed it open and peeped through the crack, shutting it before him. His eyes were molded to yours as if he were waiting for you to either speak up and yell or throw him out of your room; while you were waiting for him to continue with his reason behind begging you to just stop and listen to what he meant by his words.

The latter occurred, neither of you speaking what the other silently willed and instead, you tossed your arms up in defeat with a groan. “I don’t have time for this,” you mumbled, turning your back towards him to search for a book in your mini library shelf. You didn’t know exactly what book you were looking for. You had already read through the book of classics and floral encyclopedia’s your mother left behind for you so really, you didn’t not have the time for Spider.

You did have the time, you just feigned needing alone time with a book in your hands – it was the only way he normally would give you space.

Your room was awfully quiet, just enough to hear the mixture between your unsteady and Spider’s heavy breathing. No matter how hard he tried to be sneaky, he could never prowl up to you. You were always aware – intuitive – upon Spider’s presence.

It wasn’t a surprise that you could feel him creeping up behind your back as your eyes burned into the spine of books while your index finger sauntered over the titles as you pretended to search for any book for the matter.

You were doing a great job at ignoring him, pretending to be distracted by your books as if he weren’t even there. However, it was his hands that made your heart plummet to the bottom of your stomach.

Spider’s left hand hesitantly met your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it while his right hand fell upon the side of your left hip. “Flora,” he said, his mouth humming into the back of your ear, “what’s wrong?”

Electricity shot up your spine from his mere touch, your eyes closing while your body slightly gave way to the crave of close proximity between your bodies. It was almost pure torture being towards his innocent embrace and though you knew it wasn’t nothing more than an innocent coaxing of fervor, you couldn’t help yourself but dive right in.

His simple brush was enough to get you to drop your dome walled exterior. Spider gave your body a little tug and you allowed him to turn you around so you were face to face. When your eyes connected, Spider’s right side of his mouth lifted, giving a willing closed mouth smile.

Faintly, you admitted, “you.”

Spider was taken back by your stoic expression.

You – Him – Spider was what’s wrong.

“I didn’t do anything,” he disagreed, “you ran off.”

You shook your head, “exactly because you don’t get it,” you waved your arms. “What is there to get Flora when you wont tell me,” his voice heightened, his own annoyance slightly beginning to make way. His tone made you roll your eyes in which he scoffed in response.

“I’m right here, Miles…” your arms plopped in defeat, resting at your sides, “I’ve always been right here.”

His name… His human name tasted like honey and the sound of it upon the tip of your tongue was like a melodic symphony to his ear. His face coated with confusion, his bushy brows furrowing together while the tip of his nose pointed upward in union to his pondering eyes.

You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat and took a step closer to him. If words weren’t enough to bore into his thick skull, then you’d just have to show him and hope to the stars that he’d understand.

With shaky fingers, you pressed them to the side of each cheek, holding his face in place. His eyes twitched as he followed your movements. Part of you felt uncertain of your hold, however, Mile’s placed his own upon your hips and his hold upon your frame supported you with courage.

Your eyes pierced his brown ones as you delicately took in his features, the way his brows curved in curiosity, his darkened gaze of languish, and his unsteady breathing. It was when you noticed his tongue poke out to lick both of his lips that you leaned in, noses brushing across the tips, and pressed your lips lightly to his.

His lips were salty and rough at the bottom, however, as his pressed lightly to yours, it was as if you were ignited.

All within the one kiss, one peck of yearning.

“I’ve always been right here,” you whispered into his mouth.

Thank you all so much for your never ending support with all my Avatar one-shots. I absolutely love reading your thoughts and comments, and I can’t thank you enough for your patience. I hope I did this one justice and that it was worth the wait for you. If you enjoyed this and want to read other drabbles and one-shots you can check out my, 𝗔𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧.

Return to my main 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 . Join my 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 for notifications of future one-shots.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧— @liyahsocorro @lovefromloks @aarahlubena @yeosxxx @ellabellabus07 @nessarosefiction @babyvinnie

#Spider x Reader #Miles Socorro x Reader #Spider Miles Socorro x Reader #Spider x f!reader #Avatar #Avatar: The Way of Water #atwow

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poppyandzena · 3 months

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Zena is disgusting. You both are terrible parents, stop minimizing the trauma you kid has been through under your care. Goes to show having a degree doesn't mean shit. Please archive this.

https://bsky.app/profile/galaxybunny.bsky.social/post/3kl6h5dpkre2f

You and Poppy traumatized that kid--ESPECIALLY you, Zena. You were so cruel to that kid to a degree that made me sick to my core, and that's from the documented stuff. I cannot even fathom what that kid saw, what they heard and how they felt to live in a house with two parents that acted like the kid was a burden for existing. They couldn't even exist in the living room and kitchen comfortably, constantly at risk of triggering YOUR unmanaged anger over the smallest things. And Poppy enabled it all.

This kid is smart as fuck and a warrior. Don't let PZ make you think they're an insolent, money hungry brat. All that kid wanted was parents who respected them, and what they got was tantamount to torture and these two sullying their name on their social media just like they do all their exes.

I have no tolerance for parents who act like this.

#poppy #poppy and zena #zena and poppy #poppy diabolique #ladydiabolique #poppy & zena #zena #zenaandpoppyonyoutube #the kid

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farity · 12 days

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Sorrow, part 16

"Aegon."

It was silent in the king's room. Aegon II Targaryen slept aided by milk of the poppy and various other treatments that everyone knew would never heal him completely.

His once handsome face was a study in contrasts - one side perfection, the other marred by burned skin. His legs had been reconstructed as much as the maesters were able to. He would never walk again, but at least the extremities had been saved, and on his better days he could even sit up for an hour or two.

"Aegon."

The king turned, eyes opening slowly. "Prince Regent," he murmured drowsily.

Aemond wanted to leave, to stop looking at his broken and scarred brother, but as always duty called, and as always Aemond answered.

"I have news."

Aegon opened his eyes fully. The septas had washed him and tended to him, and despite the pain that flashed across his features, Aemond could tell that his brother was aware and not in the constant fog that he'd lived in the first few weeks after his injury.

"Helaena is to be wed again."

Aegon frowned. "She is married to me."

Aemond said nothing, letting the thought marinate in his brother's exhausted mind. He saw the play of emotions on Aegon's face - the immediate, childish impulse to claim ownership, then the momentary, opposing thought of being free, and finally the realization that he would never be free to do as he pleased again.

"Why?"

"You have heirs."

Aegon smiled bitterly. "Good thing, since I cannot manage to make any more."

Aemond continued, "there is a group of healers in Highgarden who have concocted a new tonic for pain. It is said to leave the patient quite alert, without clouding of the mind. I have summoned them to tend to you."

Immediately, wariness filled Aegon's eyes. "Why?"

"Because I would see you live rather than spend your hours slumbering. Because you-"

"Aren't you afraid I'll take the throne away from you?"

Aemond simply looked at his brother.

"My throne, little brother." Aegon yawned wearily. "Mine."

"If you recover enough to sit the throne again, Aegon, I will gladly give it back."

"Go away. I will not have you sully my mind with these ideas, Aemond. Leave." Aegon turned his back on his brother, clinging to one of the pillows set on his bed.

* * * * *

"You must see how sudden this all was for him."

Aemond stared into the fire.

"He's been like this for weeks now, and now you tell him he might get better and that Helaena is to marry again?" Elyse smiled gently. "I am not surprised at his reaction."

"Maybe you would speak with him?" He reached out and grabbed Elyse's hand. "I fear there is too much resentment between Aegon and me."

Elyse stared at him. "I barely know him," she said quietly. "But if you wish me to, I will try."

"What I wish right now, sweet wife, is to taste the delight of your lips," he replied, tugging her closer. She went to him as she always did, the natural shyness in her always turning her cheeks pink, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her mouth to his.

"Elyse," he murmured, "you are the gentle breeze that clears the rage from my heart." He began to kiss her neck, and when she sighed and pressed herself against him, he wrapped an arm around her hips and lifted her.

Too frantic to wait, he placed her on the bed, raising her skirts until they bunched around her waist and tore at the laces on his breeches while she held his face, her mouth welcoming, her legs spreading open for him. "I must have you now."

He drove into her, the heat of her nearly making him come, and she moaned, her fingertips digging into his skin. Desperate to stop before it all ended too soon, he pulled out of her, dragging her legs to the edge of the bed, and knelt before her.

Her moans grew louder as he feasted between her thighs, her breathing ragged and broken as he drove her hard and fast until her legs tightened around his head and she screamed. Aemond didn't stop, tongue and lips working her to a second and third orgasm, until she was limp and spent, her skin flushed.

He loomed over her then, pushed into her and she whimpered. There were tears on her face and he swiped one with his thumb as he began rocking his hips. Elyse opened her eyes, dazed from the pleasure, and saw him tasting her tears.

"I would taste all of you, wife."

She reached up to him, one slim arm pulling him to her until she could kiss him. "I love you, Aemond," she whispered, "I love you."

He came with the sound of her voice in his head, let himself fall and later, when he held her against him, and she was soft and pliant in the aftermath, he told her.

"I love you, Elyse."

* * * * *

"Your Grace?"

Aegon had finished eating and was savoring the one cup of wine Aemond allowed him at each meal. He looked over and saw her, standing in the doorway.

"Ah. Has Aemond sent you as his ambassador?"

She stayed where she was for a moment until he motioned her over. She curtsied before sitting next to his bed, and waited until the servant took the cup and left before speaking.

"So, are you here to convince me to allow Helaena to marry? How would such a thing even work?"

"First I would ask if you would allow the healers from Highgarden to see you," she began, "it could not hurt, and it might help." She glanced at his legs, which he kept under a silken cloth. She had seen them soon after the injury, had seen the maesters doing their best to reconstruct the many pieces of torn bone and muscle. Aegon had been unconscious through most of it, but during the times he had been aware, his screams of pain had infiltrated every corner of the keep.

"I will never walk again." He smiled bitterly, "never ride Sunfyre. Poor Sunfyre."

"You might live easier, without so much pain. There is no reason to not try, Your Grace."

Aegon watched her for a few moments. "Aemond has changed. Because of you."

Elyse held her breath.

"It is not a bad thing," Aegon continued, and pushed himself up higher on the bed. Elyse placed an arm behind his back, adjusting the cushions, and he leaned back with a long sigh. "There is less rage in him."

She said nothing, simply sat back down and listened.

"There is no rage in me," he smiled sadly, and then nodded. "Helaena should be happy. She has put up with much in our marriage."

Elyse looked down at her hands. "She has been so kind to me."

"She is kind to everyone. Even those of us who don't deserve it."

When she looked back up, there were tears in the king's eyes.

"I never wanted . . . I didn't want to marry her. Because she is odd, because I never desired her," Aegon looked around the room, "this family makes monsters of us all."

"That is not true, Your Grace."

"Well," Aegon smiled, "not Helaena. I drank even more whenever I had to bed her, whenever my mother pushed me to her door and said I had to, that this abomination of a marriage had to be fruitful. Wine!" Aegon yelled, and the servant came back in with cup, bowing before leaving again.

Elyse didn't want to hear any more. But she sat and kept quiet.

"I never wanted to touch her, I didn't want to see her face," his voice broke, "after, I had to find someone else, anyone." He took a long sip, wiping his nose. "As if that could erase having fucked Helaena." He downed the rest of the wine. "She never said anything. Never complained. I couldn't be in the same room with her unless I was drunk."

She took the empty cup from him. "I am sorry for it, Your Grace."

"For fuck's sake, call me Aegon."

"Aegon."

He glared at her, at her meekness. "Does he treat you well?"

Elyse looked up. "Your Grace. I endured mistreatment of every kind for a long time. I would not do so again."

"If the healers come here, and I do not like their treatment-"

"They will be sent away as soon as you wish."

"And if Jacaerys Velaryon raises his voice to Helaena-"

"I will see him hanged."

One corner of Aegon's mouth lifted every so slightly. "And his cock cut off and stuffed in his mouth."

"And . . . that."

Aegon threw his head back and laughed. "You should visit me more often, sister, you make for delightful company."

"I am glad you think so, You- Aegon. I must go make arrangements." She rose, curtsied, and left the room.

* * * * *

"Tell me why I shouldn't leave you to rot in the dungeons."

"I have loved your sister for a long time and I believe I can make her happy."

Aemond stared down at Jacaerys, who kept his own composure in check despite his precarious situation.

"And I will be a good advisor on your council, if you still wish it, Prince Regent."

Smirking, Aemond wondered how much pride the bastard boy had to swallow in order to say those words. "I do not."

Jace immediately tensed, but only nodded. "May I know why?"

"Because I wish for you to be Hand to the Prince Regent."

Aemond waited and watched, and was impressed by the self-possession in Jace. If he accepted, it would serve him well to not reveal his reactions.

"Why would you want that?" Jace asked eventually.

"Because your new station, as well as your marriage to my sister, will bring peace to the realm."

Jace's eyes widened, his mouth opening as he took in the full meaning of Aemond's words. "You will allow it?"

"I will allow it. Because my sister wishes it."

Aemond leaned in, "but if for one moment, I believe you are turning traitor, I will have you fed to Vhagar. And if for one moment, I believe my sister is unhappy because of you, I will cut off strips of your skin until you are nothing but a bloody, begging mess."

Jace let out a long breath. "I do not doubt your words. And if I cause Helaena to be unhappy I would give you the knife to begin your work."

It was only years of practice masking his emotions that allowed Aemond to keep any surprise he felt to himself.

* * * * *

"My mother will not be happy, you know," Helaena said softly, "she once denied this very alliance."

Elyse watched her friend, her sister, fidgeting while her maid tried to brush out her long silver locks. "Will you be happy?"

Helaena's cheeks turned pink. "Yes, of course. I always thought he was so very handsome. And he was kind to me. I spoke to Aegon," she added. "I told him I loved him so much and I always will. I never knew Aegon could cry so much."

"He wants you to be happy."

"Oh yes, he said that, too." Helaena looked up, her pretty face framed by the flowers the maid had woven into her hair. "Is it time?"

Elyse smiled. "It will be time when you decide it is time. But if you mean is Jace waiting, I believe he is."

The two women left Helaena's rooms, arm in arm, and walked to where two men and a Septon waited for them.

* * * * *

#hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd smut #aemond x oc #helaena x jace #helaena x jacaerys

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pinkydevil16 · 2 years

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Sunshine Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen reader: part 12

Aemond and Y/n walked arm in arm to dinner, passing many servants but neither noticed the shocked looks on their faces, conversing in high valerian so no one could understand. The two approached the banquet hall, Aemond pulling a chair out to allow Y/n to sit taking the one opposite her. Otto gave a disgusted look towards Aemond, his grip on his fork tight as he demanded food from the poor servant girl. Aegon drowning himself in wine and eyeing up his wine pourer, his gaze lazily going up and down her body as she blushed almost spilling the wine. Halaena and her children were not present as the eldest boy was sick, only a fever but Halaena refused to leave him alone. Alicent tried to calm her father, a servant had brought the princess' sheets to her and unfortunately Otto had been present, storming to the maesters to demand a moon tea only to be informed Aemond had just collected one. Otto had raved and ranted in Alicents private chambers, his words harsh and disgusting as he insulted his grandchildren.

"She is sullied, a common whore! You have raised her wrong Alicent, she is a princess and you have allowed this relationship between the two of them to go too far. We must marry her off." Alicent would not budge on her refusal to sell her daughter to some lord for petty gold, she could not even consult her husband for he was becoming more ill as the hours ticked by, the milk of the poppy no longer helping as he coughed up blood. Sir Criston had slapped Otto when he spoke of the princess as a whore, Alicent thanking him, her daughter was the light of the realm and she would not allow even her father to insult her. She agreed to speak to her daughter once dinner had passed, Otto saying he would drag Aemond down to the cells if need be to keep him from furthering the relationship and ruining their future alliances. Otto had a plan for when Viserys passed, his grandson would sit upon the throne and Aemond would not ruin his plans with his dalliances.

The dinner was silent except for Aegon's whispering in the wine pourers ear, her face bright red as his hand grabbed at her dress. Alicent not stopping him as she worried for speaking with her daughter, Otto too worked up to speak in anything but a raised voice as he looked at the sinful way Aemond gazed upon Y/n. Y/n smiled brightly at her family, her foot resting against Aemond as he stared openly at her, a small blush on her cheeks whenever she caught him. He was not ashamed when she caught him staring at her, instead he would simply smirk and continue to do so until she looked away blushing. He decided he loved to see her so worked up over a small gaze, he imagined how he would take her tonight, planning to eat her like a man depraved. Drinking quickly to help calm his thoughts, but his eyes would still go to her, the way her dress clung to her, the sapphire still around her neck resting against her chest. The slight redness hiding beneath the higher cut where he knew his marks were hidden, his smirk widening as he remembered her small moans.

Y/n refrained from drinking any wine, she did not want her blush to spread as she tried to stop herself from staring at Aemond, he looked so handsome in the soft glow. Her legs squeezed together for some relief as she remembered him between them, she felt hot in the cool room, fidgeting in her seat. Aemond watched as Y/n tried to calm herself, he could only imagine how wet she would be when he finally got to spread her legs, licking his lips he lounged in his chair. The food long forgotten as he watched his sister squirm under his unforgiving gaze, Otto had finally had enough standing loudly.

"Aemond we need to speak. Come. Now." He demanded walking to the council room, Aemond stood slowly, he did not care for his grandfather nor respect him so refused to follow behind him like some dog. Kissing his mother on the cheek before he left, a goodnight to her as she would return to the king soon. Alicent breathed out a sigh of relief once Otto was gone, turning to her daughter she took her hand gently. Aegon taking the opportunity to drag the wine pourer to his chambers, whispering crude things in her ear and promising her gold.

"We have much to discuss my precious daughter." Alicent spoke standing and pulling her daughter to her chambers, she loved her dearly and did not want to upset her. It pained her to see her daughter without a smile and could hardly bare to think of causing her distress but she knew as Queen she had to act quickly.

"Your sheets were brought to me, i do not care to know what transpired, your grandfather is speaking to Aemond. Do not deny what we know to be true, a moon tea was given to him and your sheets were bloodied. You have been foolish, you are a princess." Alicent ranted refusing to look at her daughter or she would simply crumble. She could scream, hit and berate her other children without a single thought but Y/n seemed to draw out the guilt, the want to be better and without her smile it seemed to darken in the chambers. Alicent turned to Y/n, the young girl sat by the fire, a stoic face as she watched her mother before standing. Taking her mothers hands in hers and smiling gently at her, Alicent felt the room brighten and her shoulder no longer carried the burdens on her day.

"Mother, i understand what my actions may cause but you cannot stop me or Aemond from being together. We were born together, made for one another, we cannot be separated no matter how hard you may try. I love you dearly but i will take Cannibal and leave if i must." Y/n had never expressed an urge to leave, she had never thought of wanting to leave but if she could not be with Aemond in kingslanding she could be with him elsewhere. Alicent did not know what to say, pulling her daughter into a hug, she did not wish to lose her. She would rather marry the two and keep them, Aemond and Vhagar were too valuable to lose and Y/n was the only child Alicent could truly say she loved. It hurt to think that she did not love her other children but she knew it in her heart she held it against them that they were born to her, a child herself unable to help them. Alicent kissed her cheek, declaring she would fix everything.

Aemond was shoved to the ground as soon as he entered the council room, Sir Criston standing by the door as guards kept him on the ground. Otto kicking him in the stomach as Aemond laughed loudly.

"You have defiled her you selfish child, she is your sister, your twin, you are bound to protect her from men like you. Now we must marry her to whatever lord will wed her, she had been sullied and you lay there and laugh." Otto shouted, his anger reaching new heights as Aemond rolled onto his back.

"Wed her to me." He stated a dangerous look in his eye as Otto grabbed him by his collar.

"Give her to me, she is mine, she has always been mine. I want my Y/n." He pushed Otto's hands from him, standing up and pulling a dagger from his side. Otto stepped back, guards standing around Aemond as he twirled his knife before sliding it across the floor.

"Wed her to me or strike me down, i will not let another have her." He opened his arms, the look he gave Otto sending pure fear through his veins, Otto did not say a word. Aemond chuckled, turning away and pushing Sir Criston out of the doorway, turning to face his grandfather once more.

"If you speak ill of her again i shall have your head, laws be damned." Aemond left leaving Otto shaken from the encounter, he had always been in control and Aemond was a rogue. Someone to not be trifled with and with the war looming they needed his dragon to win.

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond #house of targaryen #house of the dragon #otto hightower #alicent hightower

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witchywriter18 · 10 months

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MC's Family

Sebastian asks when he'll be meeting his girlfriend's parents so he can properly ask for their blessing in courting her.

"So I have a question."

MC looked up from her book to see Sebastian giving one of his signature smirks.

"And that question would be..."

"Would your parents mind if I came to stay with you over the summer?"

If MC was drinking tea, she would have choked on it.

"What?"

"You heard me. Besides, it be a perfect way for me to properly ask their blessing to court you," he explained.

"Trust me, you don't need their blessing."

'Besides, there's no way they'd give it,' she thought.

"Well of course I don't need it, I'm going to continue courting you either way. It's more of a formality, really. But really, why would they ever disapprove when I'm so charming?" he said, shoving himself onto the loveseat next to her.

"If they knew about the 'ungentlemenly' things you do to me behind closed doors, they might be a little put off," MC teased, foregoing her book to wrap her arms around Sebastian's neck.

"Well they won't know that, will they? Not unless you let the proverbial cat out of the bag. Besides, I haven't completely sullied you, yet," he teased back, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

MC kissed back eagerly, tangling her fingers in Sebastian's hair. She was secretly hoping this would distract him enough from the topic of her family.

Sadly, no such luck.

"So what do you say? Shall I hop on the train with you back to London?" he asked once their lips parted.

"Trust me, that's not a good idea," she told him.

"Why not? You ashamed of me or something?" he asked teasingly.

"It's not you I'm ashamed of," she mumbled. Sebastian heard her though and turned serious.

"What do you mean?"

MC sighed, untangling herself from Sebastian's warm embrace.

"It's my parents. Before I got my magic, everything was fine. But once I turned 15 and was accepted into Hogwarts.... that suddenly changed. I'm not sure how other families of muggle born students react when they hear their child is a witch or wizard but mine didn't react to it well," she explained, hugging herself.

Sebastian started to get the gist.

"Is that why you stayed with Poppy and her grandmother last summer?" he asked. MC gave a nod.

"Yeah. They basically kicked me out when they learned that I wasn't 'normal'," she admitted, making qoutations around the world normal.

"Oh darling. I'm so sorry. In all honesty though, I think they made a grave mistake. Because now they won't be able to see what a gorgeous and smart woman you've become. So it's their lose," he said, finishing his sentiments with a sweet kiss to your forehead.

MC smiled up at him.

"Honestly though, I could care less. I don't think I was really cut out for muggle high society life. I much prefer being a witch, it comes with more perks," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck again.

"Oh, and those are?" he smirked.

"Well, magic for one. Not to mention the cool animals I see on my adventures. Gardening is certainly more interesting. And of course I have a very dashing and sweet wizard as my boyfriend," MC said, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Sebastian wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her body to be pressed against his own. She might as well be on his lap now.

"How about... instead of.... you staying with... Sweeting... you could... stay with me... in Feldcroft?" Sebastian offered between kisses. MC stopped kissing him, a bright smile on her face.

"I think that'd be lovely. Who knows, might be good practice for the future," she suggested. Sebastian raised a brow.

"Oh? Been imagining us being a little family, have you?" he asked.

"Perhaps a little bit. I hope you don't expect me to be a meek little housewife?" she teased.

"HA! You? Not for a moment with your adventurous spirit and natural curiosity. I expect you'll be too busy roaming about the highlands taking down poachers and trolls, rescueing a few magical creatures on the way, to be worrying about something like housework. And I'm perfectly happy with that as long as I get to snuggle with you in bed when the day is done. Unless I make you cross and you make me sleep on the sofa," he said, nuzzling his nose with hers.

"Is that a proposal, Mr. Sallow?" MC asked, quirking a brow.

"If you'd like it to be."

"Well then, I guess that makes us engaged. I think Snuffles as the ring bearer and Highwing as the flower girl," she laughed.

"Yes, a giant Graphorn as our ring bearer, great idea. Well, better then a Niffler I suppose. It'd just run off with the rings," he chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers.

"We have plenty of time to work out the details," she replied.

"Still, I better work out the engagement ring situation. Gotta let the men in this school know your off the market somehow."

Sebastian shifted so his back was against the armrest of the loveseat, bring MC to sit between his legs, her back against his broad chest.

"With how often you kiss me in the halls for all to see, I'd be surprised if they didn't know already," she laughed.

"Ah yes but now they'll REALLY know. Anytime a guy pesters you, you can just flash that ring and tell them to bugger off," he said, burying his face in the junction between her shoulder and neck.

MC giggled as he started pressing kisses there.

Sebastian was right, her family didn't deserve her time. If they didn't want her because she was special, so be it. The only family she needed was Sebastian.

And she was perfectly fine with that.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #female mc #sebastian sallow x female mc

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honestsycrets · 7 months

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Poll 9.22

Hello everyone, giving y'all the choice between two different works I have been working on:

Snippets are as of yet, unedited.

Requests:

1. How about a miguel o hara md x nurse reader 😭

Hi! Can you do a Miguel x f!reader fic where they're dating? It's expensive to live in Nueva York and the reader overworks herself at a thankless job with a pervy boss but she can't find work anywhere else. She doesn't tell Miguel about her bosses advances because she doesn't want him to worry about her but the signs are getting harder to hide.

2. Still, I offer you this: Sheriff Miguel.

He's someone all the women have their eyes on, and he'd have his eyes on them, too, if he were younger. But he has a baby girl to worry about, a runaway wife to forget, and a town to keep an eye on, especially when a woman from the big city pays the little down a visit.

He meets her when he loses Gabriella in the market's crowd, only to find her tugging on a fine dress belonging to a fine woman.

1.) “You’ve been staring at this same lecture for two hours.” He offers the cool mug that you abandoned in the kitchen, dragging your feet to the couch and zoning out to the lecture he quickly clicks off. The remote clicks as he sets it aside.

“That’s how you study,” you murmured, despite the fact that the PowerPoint on your lap was unmarred. A highlighter queen, you loved to sully the pages with vibrant pens and highlighters til they looked more like poppy birthday invitations than school notes. His desk was chock-full of the heart-shaped sticky notes that you slapped on his lunch every night like clockwork. He kept every last one.

“Not how you study,” Miguel throws his arm over your shoulders, forcing you to tip against his side. You fell into the warmth that was his body, your PowerPoint clattering onto the floor. You don’t bother to pick it up, rubbing the heel of your palm into your swollen eyes. You were crying.

“I’m just tired, Miggy. Patients die on the floor every day.”

“Happens when you work hospice,” Miguel remarks. “There’s an opening in step down.”

“Ya sé. I tried.” You turn your face into his naked chest, your soft fingers curling along his dark skin. “No one else will work with me for school. Especially not with clinicals coming up. I just… need to make it a year.”

“Listen to me and quit,” Miguel suggests. “I can take care--”

“We’ve talked about this. I don’t want Stone’s blood money. The drugs he makes—”

Damn, as if his degree meant a whole lot of nothing. Miguel turns his hand over yours, grazing his thumb over the chunky diamond set in your newly acquired engagement ring. It isn’t as if he has a great relationship with the fucker, but… if it meant alleviating the stress that you wore everywhere, he’d make something of it.

“—addictive.”

“Let me take care of you.”

“I said no."

2.) “Yes, mami, Sheriff O’Hara. Do you know old Sheriff O’Hara?” You sure can talk pretty. He clears his throat, pulling on the sloppy tie that feels a whole lot hotter all of a sudden. Or maybe it’s been that long since he’s been with a girl. It isn’t like he can particularly go to the saloon and pick any one of those girls that followed him around up. He might have a night sitter for Gabriella but-- the town wouldn’t continually elect a loose man. Miguel’s eyes catch the flickering gold of a bumblebee locket on your chest, tracing its wings' curve. “��Course she does, she’s mine. I lost her up in the crowd flow.” “Where is your wife? You can’t tell me you’re the kinda man that does it all, can you?” Where is your wife? The question tormented him. He could do it all. Managing the sloppy, slow thieves and putting down the occasional drunken brawl. At the end of the night, he came home to his empty home and saw his little girl. Miguel’s gaze danced along the puffy clouds in the sky. The fluffy clouds drift the same as usual, the same old slow draw, unknowledgeable about the change in his life. He suppresses the distant call of longing fluttering in his chest. “Ain’t got a wife. She ran off on me with some wolf. Usually, I got a sitter for my girl but, she came down with a fever.” “A wolf?” you repeat after him, “Why, you mean a gentleman?” “If you wanna call him that. He was an outlaw.” “I’m mighty sorry, Sheriff.”

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara oneshot

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parragone · 1 year

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Anyway, ops with more tattoos than they let on;

Kapkan - one of those people who has more ink than you'd think, and you never see it because he wears long sleeves and gloves all the damn time. Most of it comes from his undercover work, but certain pieces are newer. Beyond the tattoos on his hands and forearms from his undercover work, Kapkan has specialized tattoos designed by Glaz on his upper arms; the names of Kapkan's closest family are hidden in the designs, along with a few dates of importance. Most of the designs by Glaz are floral.

Tachanka - Look at his elite skin. Look at it. That's canon.

Smoke: this man has the EDGIEST back tattoo physically possible. He got it when he was sixteen and has zero regrets. There's skulls and bones and flames, and it's just God awful, but he loves it. Definitely needs touch ups.

Bandit - Look at his elite skin. Follow the Tachnka rule.

Jäger - you heard me. Most of his tattoos are little things that mean a lot to him that decorate his left upper arm/shoulder area, but he has a very well-lined fire poppy inked on his hip, right over the injury he got during Operation Outbreak. It's a good way to make something pretty out of a nasty scar.

Lion - most of his tattoos are things he's ashamed of and hides under clothing as best he can, as he believes he's sullied his body by getting them but doesn't trust tattoo removal will do the trick. Hilariously, not a single one of his tattoos is obscene, as he preferred solid geometric designs. However, after some thought, he did get Alexis' name tattooed on his forearm under where the EE-One-D control panel usually rests. Nobody else has to see it.

Thermite - Look me in the eyes and tell me Jordan Trace doesn't have a tramp stamp after a really stupid bet with his sister when he was 17. She said he had to get a tramp stamp with butterflies and completely forgot about it. He saved up for nearly two months, went to a parlor, came home, showed his sister, and she lost her mind laughing - she would later get a tattoo of a butterfly on her shoulder so that he didn't feel totally alone with stupid tattoos. It's a fond memory for him, even if it did contribute to his brief stint as a barracks bunny in the Marines.

Mute - He didn't have tattoos. Didn't. He came home after a brief period of leave in the second year of Rainbow and went straight to the showers after he got back. The first person to get an eyeful was Rook, who promptly stole his shirt so the team could see that he'd gone and inked himself over. Chest, back, upper arms, shoulders. He's covered in ink and may have fallen asleep in the chair. It's all got some significance to him, but it's encoded into designs and any lettering present is in cipher. It's all hidden even when he's in casual wear, but he's said that if he could get more without getting in trouble, he absolutely would.

Rook - Speaking of, the man has exactly one tattoo. It's a live laugh love tattoo that he got after he lost a bet with Twitch. It's on his left thigh and he will not discuss the bet he lost. [ He bet that he could throw a drone further than she could and promptly ate his words. He's still fucking baffled. ]

#parramblings #r6s #thermite #smoke #mute #tachanka #bandit #r6s jager #rook #lion #kapkan

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eldritch-nightmare · 7 months

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songs that make me think about the creepypastas.

because i am insufferable and my brain never stops. also the marble hornets characters. because, and i cannot stress this enough, i am insufferable.

this doesn't necessarily mean 'songs that fit them', just songs that make me think about them. some songs may fit them, and some songs are just... my brain going 'boom boom bam pow'. this'll definitely be a long post so everything will be under the cut.

recommendations always welcome i love listening to new music <3

slenderman.

— come little children by erutan.

— sweet dreams (are made of this) by emily browning.

jeff the killer.

— duality by slipknot.

— kill everyone by hollywood undead.

— i will not bow by breaking benjamin.

— dethrone by bad omens.

— bloody nose by hollywood undead.

— pet by a perfect circle.

ben drowned.

— dead machine by egypt central.

eyeless jack.

— city of the dead by hollywood undead.

— get out alive by three days grace.

— enough by ra.

laughing jack.

— nightmare by set it off.

nina the killer.

— your love is my drug by kesha.

— tarantula girl by violent vira.

— pretty in pink by scene queen.

— again by crusher-p.

— love is dead and we killed her by doll skin.

jane the killer.

— goodbye by ramsey.

homicidal liu.

— agnosia by valleyheart.

— everything goes on by porter robinson.

— point of no return by starset.

— hear me now by hollywood undead.

— ghost by hollywood undead.

— dreamcatcher by starset.

— castle of glass by linkin park.

— faint by linkin park.

— something wicked by starset.

— man or a monster by sam tinnesz.

— crawl by breaking benjamin.

— scream by poppy.

— coming back down by hollywood undead.

— [sully] reckless battery burns by ghost.

— [sully] magical doctor by maretu.

— [sully] screamm by poppy. [WARNING: REALLY LOUD]

— [sully] SIU by maretu.

nurse ann.

— honey i'm home by ghost.

the bloody painter.

— i am machine by three days grace.

— everglow by starset.

— emergency contact by pierce the veil.

the puppeteer.

— in control by nemesea.

jason the toymaker.

— the red means i love you by madds buckley.

— hard to love by too close to touch.

zalgo.

— dance with the devil by breaking benjamin.

— reckless battery burns by ghost.

— counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums by a perfect circle.

ticci toby.

— heroine by sleeping with sirens.

— the world is ugly by my chemical romance.

— the ghost of you by my chemical romance.

— get up! by korn.

— one step closer by linkin park.

x-virus.

— healing foot by linkin park.

— bloody nose by hollywood undead.

clockwork.

— the world belongs to me by my darkest days.

— fear of dying by poppy.

candy pop.

— villain by wildfire.

tim wright.

— dialysis by it's alive.

— crazy by lowborn.

brian thomas.

— bang bang by hollywood undead.

jessica locke.

— i'll sleep when i'm dead by set it off.

jay merrick.

— turn the lights off by tally hall.

alex kralie.

— unstable by chaotica.

the operator.

— world is mine by ryo (supercell)

#archived mind of v: thoughts and opinions.#song list.#creepypasta #marble hornets #i love listening to my music and just thinking of silly characters i like <3

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warningsine · 11 months

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Cannibalism is considered the most inhumane of activities. In the last year, however, films and TV shows like Bones And All, Fresh, Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story, House of Hammer, and Yellowjackets have forced viewers to grapple with the trope by digging into the metaphorical, social and political themes it may represent beyond all that body horror. What they’ve discovered is just how delicious cannibalistic themes can be when digging into capitalism, patriarchy, human connection and autonomy for those at the bottom of the food chain.

In Luca Guadagnino’s Bones and All, based on Camille DeAngelis’s 2015 novel, two cannibal lovers face tragedy. In the final scene, Lee (Timothée Chalamet) is dying from a punctured lung and he’s not willing to let his partner Maren (Taylor Russell) do anything to help save him. Their lives thus far have been defined by marginalisation, abandonment, shame, violence and trauma with only romantic love between the two of them offering any sort of true solace. With his final breaths, Lee urges Maren to eat him, "bones and all." We’re told in an earlier speech it is the ultimate, cathartic cannibalistic feeding experience. And so, through tears and after initial reluctance, she does. Two disenfranchised people finding connection in the most tragic of circumstances.

Now if your takeaway from this ending is that it condones literal cannibalistic love, then screenwriter David Kajganich would like to interject. "If I felt we had somehow pointed an impressionable audience in the direction of ‘this is a beautiful vision of how love should work’ I would have not gotten my laptop out," he tells Mashable. "I think what's important isn't why Maren finally eats Lee, it's why Lee gives up." The teen maneater’s fatal injuries were incurred while killing Sully (Mark Rylance) an elder cannibal. It’s not the first time Lee’s killed; it started with his father’s death and ever since it's been the predominant means by which he secured human flesh to eat. "In his case, the specific trauma of murdering his father is a repeat cycle that even love can't break," says Kajganich. "The ending is less about cannibalism and more about Lee's character deciding, 'I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to live even for this relationship.'" Living on the outskirts with his trauma, the guilt and the shame of his murderous cannibalistic secret is ultimately too much for Lee to bear.

A nuanced understanding is required when regarding the cannibalism trope employed in the novel and its 2022 screen adaptation, as several other social and cultural themes, such as class and gender, overlap and are presented through this taboo prism. But neither book nor film are alone in this resurgence of cannibalistic narrative exploration. Sebastian Stan raised red flags in Mimi Cave’s 2022 poppy rom-com horror Fresh as a hunky human flesh connoisseur using meat-cutes (spelling intended) to source female bodies to the highest bidder. Factual television series like House of Hammer and true crime drama Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story have been readily consumed by audiences with a taste for sordid exploitation. But, as audiences, are we missing the memo that directors are trying to send us through this series and movies?

Eat the rich

There’s something of the American Psycho about House of Hammer, which details not just actor Armie Hammer’s public downfall – following allegations of sexual abuse. The documentary examines Hammer's expression of cannibalistic fantasies in DMs and shows a backdrop of context by also looking at the alleged criminal legacy left by the powerful men in his super wealthy family. Patrick Bateman, the eponymous psycho in Bret Easton Ellis’ 1991 book and Mary Harron’s 2000 film adaptation, like Hammer, has the power, the wealth, the looks, and the cis white male privilege to have whatever he wants – so why not human flesh too? He’s the ultimate consumer but the bodies of his victims tell a bigger story about his immorality. "When Bateman’s seeking the service of sex workers they think it’s for sex that they're going to provide but he ends up cannibalising them," says Mary Wild, Freudian psychoanalyst, cinephile, and co-host of The Projections Podcast. "What he's lacking is humanity. He sees it in people just trying to make a living and he needs to take that away from them." In these contexts, cannibalism runs parallel to extreme wealth and privilege within a capitalist system, in which wealth often comes at the expense and exploitation of other less privileged humans.

"But it is important to differentiate those who have cannibalistic sexual fantasies and those who literally act on. Although these two sometimes intersect, this seems to be the exception and not the rule," says Victoria Hartmann, Ph.D., an extreme pornography and paraphilia researcher and executive director at Erotic Heritage Museum Las Vegas. "I strongly believe it remains vital to carefully consider the chasm between those who are disordered in such a way they would cause harm to another human being in real life without a shred of empathy, and those who have unusual (which can also be considered extreme) sexual interests."

Texts attributed to Hammer suggest he has been "kink-shamed" for his sexual fetish which is commonly known as vorarephilia (vore). Vore is characterised as "the erotic desire to consume or be consumed by another person or creature," specifically being swallowed or swallowing someone whole which is a tad different to the allegations against Hammer. Many of the women claim they were coerced and manipulated into his so-called vore situations which left them feeling physically and emotionally damaged. In the vast majority of cases – because eating people is a horrific crime, of course – vorarephiles, whether they imagine themselves as predator or prey, mostly enjoy this kink in a fantasy realm reinforced through images, texts or video games shared online through websites like Eka’s Portal. "Research continues to indicate, and this has been reproduced in study after study (including my own studies from 2012-2014), that paraphilias (also known as fetishes) are not usually indicators of abusive tendencies," adds Hartmann.

For some, however, the focus on cannibalism in this conversation says a lot about our social acceptance of certain heinous acts compared to others. "Sexuality scares us; it is a place where we as human beings are deeply vulnerable, both physically and emotionally," Hartmann tells Mashable. "Now add to that something of an ‘extreme’ nature (such as a cannibalism kink) and this creates even more fear — both existential and real….we are forced to ask ourselves why some people would be drawn to the idea of sexualising death, it’s process and its aftermath."

Death has never been an easy discussion topic let alone when overlapped with desire – unless vampires are thrown into the mix. "Most people cannot fathom even for a moment how those two could ever come together," says Hartmann. It’s disturbing and disgusting and yet, no less harrowing than assault, abuse and sexual violence, which is far more commonplace and continues to be. "We only have to look at the low incidence of convictions for these very real crimes to understand how little value we give to survivors of these forms of violence," she adds. And certainly in the case of Armie Hammer, those accusations were deemed less shocking than the claims relating to cannibalism.

What’s important to remember, says Hartmann, is that a person's cannibalistic desires may not be the root cause for their "impetus to harm others in a non-consensual manner." "Generally, it stems from a co-morbid set of personality disorders; it’s just that some happen to have a co-existing paraphilia(s)."

Consumptive love and desire

The serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer is a prime example of this sort of overlap. In the opening episode of Ryan Murphy’s Dahmer series, starring Evan Peters as the titular serial killer, he rests his head on the bare chest of Tracy Edwards (Shaun J. Brown), the man he has lured to his apartment in order to murder. "I wanna hear your heart," Jeff tells the scared Tracy as he pushes him back on a bloodstained bed, strokes his chest and breathes heavily. "'Cause I’m gonna eat it."

After Tracy’s escape and the serial killer’s arrest, we learn that he had been murdering, carving up and eating his victims while keeping some bones as keepsakes – a habit psychologically influenced by the perceived abandonment by his mother. This could be seen as a way of preventing his victims of "love" from ever truly leaving.

"Cannibalism is the consumption of someone else so, as a Freudian psychoanalyst, I see that as a longing for intimacy, a longing for psychological or emotional closeness, that is actually taking the form of a physical reunion or keeping that person as close to you as possible," says Wild. "Physical intimacy in terms of intercourse, that's not going to do it. You actually need to ingest them, you need to metabolise that person."

In fictional works the cannibal trope can provide fertile metaphorical ground to explore consumptive behaviours involving romance, intimacy and desire, especially for female writers and/or female characters, as with Fresh and Bones and All. "The mere concept of pleasure, especially tied to feminine pleasure, has been considered taboo or worthy of derision, not just in art but society in general," says Kayleigh Donaldson, critic and pop culture writer for Pajiba. "In its most basic form, romantic fiction can be a great way to bust those taboos and dig deeper into our desires. It's a safe space, so to speak, and genre fiction can be a great way to dissect those trickier areas, if it's done well."

Cannibalism in this context can be seen as an expression of female desire and autonomy in a patriarchal world that suppresses and oppresses. "We're taught to walk this literal and figurative thin line of femininity," Chelsea G. Summer, author of cannibalistic body horror novel A Certain Hunger, tells Mashable. "You have to be desirable, but not too desiring. It’s a test that female humans are set up to fail."

Unrealistic feminine standards continue to cause body image issues and eating disorders for women and girls. While not solely female conditions, female cannibal characters like Bones and All’s Maren can provide a "diagnostic criteria," says Wild. "It’s a type of eating that is done in secret, that is shunned by the rest of society and that's seen as abnormal, or, taboo, or sinister. It's representing on a screen this total, emotional spiralling and falling into an eating habit that is shameful. And cannibals themselves will express shame."

Outsiders in a discriminatory world

The desire for self-expression in a still discriminatory world has meant cannibal stories — like Raw, Yellowjackets, and Hannibal — have also been embraced by members of the queer and LGBTQ community. Not in the Dahmer sense of a gay man who racially fetishized many of his gay victims. But in the keen sense of disenfranchisement and societal shame where cannibalism is a substitute for a marginalised queer identity. "It isn't hard to imagine anyone in the LGBTQ community who has ever felt targeted intuitively understanding this metaphor," Kajganich adds. "Cannibalism is such a taboo of the civilized world, such an emblem of what is considered immoral and contemptible outside of holy communion, of course."

"Horror is often such an amplification of everyday anxieties. Why shouldn't those two things combine for those of us in the LGBTQ community as a great language for expressing how it feels when your completely natural way of being intimate is judged as morally violent and socially destructive?"

And yet, when writers, artists or filmmakers employ such cannibalistic themes, characterisations or narratives, an angry online mob is sure to follow. From right-wing groups to QAnon conspiracy theorists, pro-cannibalism accusations have been levied at varied marginalised creators and groups to justify discrimination and fascist politics. And it’s nothing new. "Cannibalism is a charge deployed by colonising people throughout the globe throughout history," Summers points out. "When [Christopher] Columbus hit the Americas he said [the indigenous people were] cannibals therefore we need to change that."

"Now there's this whole network of far right fascist media saying things like, ‘The New York Times is promoting cannibalism, this author is saying everybody should be cannibals and that is why we need to assume control of the West.' It is a fascistic way of implementing control. Cannibalism is the thing we hold up for being inhuman; not murder, not rape, and certainly not colonising. It's cannibalism."

Cannibalism in film and TV is proving to be a nourishing narrative tool to embrace and exemplify the disenfranchised. As well as forcing readers and viewers to negotiate their own awareness and sensitives to morally-challenging stories that don’t serve up clear answers on a platter. "If the element of cannibalism in the film isn't testing your empathy with the characters," adds Kajganich. "If it isn't forcing you to continue to re-up your contract with them in terms of just being open to their lives, then we failed, right?"

And that’s the power of this storytelling tool. By using cannibalism to ask questions of societal power structures, the patriarchy as well as the shame and fear associated with marginalised identity, it forces the audience to seek answers inside themselves. Is cannibalism the problem – or are we? Food for thought.

#cinema #tv #cannibalism

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