#I'm just looking at these events screaming

[writersdrug]

You and Konig spend the night drinking and wake up to each other <3

Unsure if we’re hung over or still drunk

König and you being drunk homebodies

Warnings: vomiting/emetophobia trigger warning!! Mentions of sex, drunk reader and König, fluff, König being the caring partner we all crave

A/N: I know exactly who requested this and I'm sorry it took so long 😭 I don't even have an excuse, it just say on the back burner, but here you go! Enjoy~

Photo credit to 661ave

You don't remember much from the night before: just glimpses of this and that.

You and König dressed up for the awards ceremony, a glass of wine in each of your hands, managing to convince him to dance with you... holding some bronze, dark cocktail in your hands as König insists it's the best thing Germany ever made. From there, it only gets worse.

You remember laughter and giggles, promises whispered into your ear, making you blush... König pulling you outside of the event, nearly tripping over your own feet as he dragged you into a taxi... watching as he threw a wad of cash at the angry driver as you both shamelessly made out in the backseat of the car... continuing the fiasco on the loveseat in your home...

And then it goes black.

Last night, you felt like a couple of teenagers escaping a party. Now, you felt like you'd just finished a triathlon.

You groaned. The sunlight peering through the blinds was too bright, your stomach churned, your head was pounding, and there was something heavy and warm draped over your middle. You tried to push it off, to no avail - König made a sound, and his fingers twitched against your side.

"König..."

"... mm..."

"Get off..."

"... m... mh-mm..."

You sighed. You needed water - your mouth was drier than a desert, and every cell in your body screamed for hydration. You could stand to take a bath, too.

You tried turning your head to look at König - which was a mistake. The entire room spun dangerously, and your stomach threatened to empty its contents then and there. You slapped a hand over your mouth and threw Königs arm off of your body with all your might. You stumbled into the bathroom, crashing into the door frame and collapsing on your knees. You barely made it to the toilet in time to spill last night's dinner, gripping the edge of the bowl like it was your lifeline.

God, you thought, when was the last time I was hungover like this? Highschool?

As you were emptying your stomach, you felt a hand scoop your hair back and away from your face. You saw König out of the corner of your eye - he was only in his boxers, sliding down the edge of the tub to sit next to you, his legs splayed out before him. He held his other hand over his eyes as you finished your business.

You panted, pulling the handle to flush and squeezing your eyes shut. Your stomach felt better, but your head was pounding, like you were being stoned. "Thanks..." You mumbled to König, and he grunted in response.

"Better?" He asked, still shielding his eyes from the bathroom light.

You groaned. "Yeah." You sat back on the cool tile, leaning against his chest. "Never trusting any of your recommendations again, by the way."

He exhaled, possibly meant to be a laugh. He let go of your hair and rested his hand on your thigh. Watching his thumb rub soothing circles into your skin made you feel dizzy. To be honest, you couldn't be sure that you weren't still drunk. Between the spinning room and the lightness in your chest, there may have been a bit of drunkenness left in your mind - but that could have also been from vomiting.

"Let's not do that again..." You mumbled.

"Mhm..." he said, his voice hoarse from dehydration. "What was it we did?"

"Idunno. You told me to try a drink - I think I had three- no, four..."

"Jägermeister..." he mumbled in a pained voice.

You both sat there for a few minutes, eyes squeezed shut as you focused on breathing. The feeling of König's breath washing over the crown of your head was soothing, even in your half-dead state. You would have been content to stay like that, sat up against him on the cold, bathroom floor as you recovered from your hangover.

Eventually, König threaded his hands under your armpits and helped you stand, guiding you into the bathrub behind you. He murmured something in your ear about "need to get something", before he turned on the shower and let the cold water hit you. You griped and tried to change it to a warmer setting, but he told you to let it run for a few minutes. "It'll feel better, schatz."

He left the bathroom door open as he trudged - stumbling was a better word - into the living room. Despite the constant fogginess in his mind, and the ache in his legs, he was a man on a mission to take care of his partner (and afterwards, himself). He began picking up all the clothes that he had torn off of you and himself in a hasty desire for drunken sex. He would have gotten hard at the memory of him plowing you into the sofa, and at the sound of your drunken moans and giggles as he struggled to hold himself above you - but his hangover prevented him from having any sort of reaction to said memories. The most he could do was laugh and snatch your panties that were hanging off the corner of the TV.

He piled the clothes next to the washer and dryer, then moved into the kitchen. He fixed two thermouses of water for the both of you, and grabbed an extra glass and an Alka seltzer for him. He carried the items back to the bedroom, peeking into the bathroom as he passed.

You stood in the shower as the freezing water hit your back, hugging yourself and shivering at that point. You eventually gave up waiting for König and turned the knob to the left; you sighed in relief as the warmth seeped into your bones, melting away some of the fogginess in your head and making you feel less grimy. You leaned your forehead against the tile in front of you - your stomach lurched a bit, but you knew there was nothing else to come up.

You heard König slide into the shower behind you, but you kept your head against the tile. He whispered something in German that you were too exhausted to decipher. His hand gently slid onto your forehead as he pulled you back against him. You leaned there, eyes closed as you let his scent wash over you.

"Mein liebling..." he murmured, massaging his fingers into your shoulder muscles.

"Don't call me that." You spoke softly. "You tried to poison me last night."

He chuckled, rubbing a warm, wet cloth over your neck and shoulders. "Almost took myself out, too, didn't I?"

After a moment of standing in the silence with him, feeling drag the cloth softly over your face, you realized that he was replicating your nighttime skincare routine. Except, it was currently one in the afternoon, and you normally don't do it in the shower. You would have told him that he was using the wrong kind of cloth to clean your face, but you decided to keep your mouth shut. Both out of gratitude and the comfort of his touch.

He carefully finished washing your face, then your body, making sure to be gentle and slow. He whispered unintelligible phrases against your scalp as he turned off the water. He pulled you into the center of the bathroom and wiped you down with a towel - you were practically asleep standing up, but he made sure to hold you steady.

After you both brushed your teeth together, he helped you pull on some clothes, before letting you crawl back into the bed. He then went back into the bathroom to finish drying himself off. You kept your eyes closed, listening to the ambiance of König's movements, combined with the sound of the breeze outside.

You looked towards the window and noticed he had cracked it open. You also noticed there was a thermos and a sleeve of crackers on the nightstand, right within your reach. You felt a sudden onslaught of emotions and tears forming in the corners of your eyes; maybe it was because you were hungover (or at this point, possibly still drunk, you couldn't tell), but it finally broke the damn, and you began to cry, quiet sobs and sniffles breaking the near silence in the bedroom.

Instantaneously, you heard König nearly breaking his legs as he floundered over to you. The towel he had held had yet to hit the floor by the time he was kneeling by your side.

"Was? Was ist falsch? Are you ok?" He said, placing a hand on your forehead with a worried expression.

You let out a sob. "Nothing, it's stupid- you're too good to me... you're hungover too- and you- you did all this shit for me- 'n here I am, not doing anything at all for you-" your words melded with your sobs, which had taken over the conversation.

He sighed with relief, petting the crown of your head and planting a kiss there. "Liebling... I'll always take care of you- even when I don't feel gut." he murmured. "You always come first - but I promise I'll take care of myself too, ok? Just for you."

You sniffled again and nodded. "M'kay..." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to stop the flow of tears - you needed all the hydration you could get.

"Although, promise me one thing-"

"Hmm?"

"Let's not to do this again. It's not good for you, and I can't take care of you properly when I'm like this."

You nodded again. You'd rather be in hell than have this bad of a hangover. "Promise."

König placed a satisfied kiss to your forehead again, muttering a quick "Geh schlafen, süßes Mädchen..." into your scalp. He stood back up and headed back to the bathroom, picking up the discarded towel and rubbing it over his hair. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, scoffing at the bags under his eyes. Not what I used to be, eh? He thought.

He headed back into the room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, and lazily tugged them on. He thought about putting on a shirt, but the idea of it made him cringe. He felt overstimulated enough as it was - the shirt would just feel suffocating. He then shuffled over to the bed and climbed in, pulling you against him with an arm wrapped around your waist. He sighed, tucking your head underneath his chin.

"At least we have all weekend, ja?" He said quietly.

You didn't respond, making him crane his neck to look down at you. "Schatz?" He said, holding his hand in front of your nostrils. He knew you were alive, of course - but the feeling of your warm, slow breaths against his fingers granted him peace of mind.

He chuckled, tucking his hand back around your waist as you slumbered on. "Süße Träume, mein liebe." He whispered, curling around you and letting his eyes fall shut.

------------

Bleh I wasn't too confident with this one, but I'm trying to clear out my drafts so I pushed it out. Hope yall like it! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 🥰

#konig x reader #konig #call of duty #konig cod #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig blurbs #cod x reader

[hoonieshoney]

"he'll tell at her more to see her sob" PLEASE write a dacryphilia smut drabble on this i beg

Come here nonnie, lemme just 😗🧠

I hope this is what you were looking for 🥹

Another canon small smut drabble in the I Beg, Save Me universe! This would take place the day after the ahem altar scene. Not proofread!

🚫SMUT🚫MDNI🚫

🚫DARK CONTENT🚫NONCON/DUBCON🚫

🚫DACRYPHILIA🚫

"O-Ow..Heeseung..I'm still too sore from yesterday..it hurts..I can't"

You laid flat on Heeseung's bed, both fully nude, you spent the last half hour with his tongue in your mouth. Rubbing your hands all over each other. He tried slipping one of his thick fingers inside of your cunt but the immediate intrusion had you whining and immediately pushing him off of you, the pain still present from yesterday’s events.

He sat on his knees and slowly blinked, his bambi like eyes quickly turned dark and brooding, like a shark in water stalking its next meal.

“That’s really fucking adorable angel..” He smiles, but there was no amusement behind it.

“What is?” 

“That you think you have a choice.”

Before you could open your mouth to protest he was on top of you, grabbing both of your wrists in his large hand and pinning them above your head.

“Am I scaring you, angel?” He’s still smiling watching your panicked expression, his eyes twinkle watching the tears line your waterline. 

“Yes..”

“Hmm..don’t be, angel. It’ll only hurt for a little bit. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

“No! Hee-Heeseing this isn't funny! Get off of me!” You struggle against his restraint on you but he just smirks. “If you keep acting up. You’ll regret it, angel.” 

You squirm again and he rolls his eyes in annoyance. Fine, have it your way angel.

“I said STOP!”

The boom of his voice made you freeze instantly. You had never seen this side of him before. His eyes were narrow and dark as he watches your scared face and sees the full glaze of tears start to form in your pretty eyes. The sight going straight to his cock.

Oh, angel. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.

Your tear brimmed eyes stare at him silently pleading him to stop. He opens your legs and positions himself at your sore entrance, and he slides in with ease. Thankfully the make out session had you just wet enough for him to slide in. His eyes widen slightly as he enters you slowly, inch by inch, feeling you clench hard around his cock. A high pitched whine leaves your parted lips at the unbearable pain you feel at him stretching your already sore hole. He sheathes himself inside you to the hilt in one go. Your legs kick and shake around him, his hand still keeping a firm grip around your wrists.

The wail that leaves your throat is loud, a few tears finally fall down your red cheeks.   

A sickening smile etches on his face at watching you shake and cry under him, you were hoping the tears that you were spilling would be enough to make him realize he was hurting you but he only picked up his pace and rocked harder against you causing you to scream out louder, hearing your pained sounds only made him enjoy your pain that much more. 

Using his free hand he grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, making him go even deeper inside of you. You could feel the mushroom tip of his head hitting your cervix with each forceful thrust. You hate that you can feel yourself becoming wetter with each of his harsh thrusts, the pain was still excruciating but it was becoming laced with pleasure. 

His cock was hitting the right angles inside of you, it was stroking that deep spot deliciously, it was overshadowing the assault he was doing on your cervix and the bruising of your walls around him. Your hips started to instinctively move and grind against him every time he bottomed out in your sore pussy. 

This shouldn’t feel so good.

“You feel so good, angel.” He grunts watching you become a sobbing incoherent mess underneath him. You were repeatedly crying out his name with hot tears running down your face, adding to the mess of sweat and red cheeks. You weren’t sure if you were crying from the pain or from the pleasure anymore. 

You start to feel like you’re in a floaty head space, dark spots clouding your vision as you struggle to breathe from the pain and all of the crying, the familiar sensation of your orgasm is nearing. He can feel it too, he finally lets go of your wrists and grips your waist hard. The bruises from yesterday present, he grips the bruised flesh harshly and pulls the lower half of your body harder against him, meeting each of his thrusts, he’s using you like his own personal fleshlight. 

There's no oxygen left in your body for you to make a sound when your orgasm finally hits you like a freight train, your entire body convulses at the overwhelming sensation. You can only throw your head back with your mouth open and drooling.That sent him over the edge.The sight of the sweat, tears, and drool coating your face and neck had his eyes rolling to the back of his head. With a loud grunt he threw his head back as his hips stuttered against you and let his hot cum fill you to the brim.

He pants heavily as he comes down from his high, watching your fucked out body under him. A sinister grin stretches his lips looking at the hazy look in your eyes. He fucked you so hard he sent you into subspace. He grabs your cheeks with one hand squishing the wet flesh between his fingers, “didn’t that feel good, angel?”

#i beg save me #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung smut #lee heesung smut #lee heesung x reader

[wosoluver]

Trying hard

TW: suggestive content

Andrea x Teammate!reader

"Why are the both of you fighting so hard to hate eachother?" - Asked Lola.

No one on the team understood where all that came from. And seemingly not even you or Andrea seemed to know.

"She started it."

You were all doing warm ups in training

"Literally when?" - Lola insisted knowing her friend very well. And Andrea just huffed at her.

You were new on the team, arrived in the beginning of the season. You were a forward, she was a defender, you naturally clashed a lot during trainings.

But still there was never an event to cause your constant bickering at each other.

"Everyone dividing into teams." - Yelled the coach.

As usual the two of you were in opposite sides. But twenty minutes in Medina started to get frustrated. She couldn't manage to stop your attacks, that led her to commit a bunch of fouls, this one had been particularly hard.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" - you screamed out as you got up. You were in pain but in the moment you saw red. And you pushed her back. - "You aways pull this shit! Try to learn how to manage your anger issues. It's not my fault you suck at your job."

And that's all it took for her to stand up and try to start a physical fight.

But thankfully you were separated by your teammates.

"You two are staying late as punishment." - That's the only thing coach said before starting the game once again. You stayed on the sidelines trying to cool down.

You couldn't help but watch her every move. How the sweat glistened over her muscles as she gave her all on the pitch.

"Alright we're done for the day. Not you, Medina and Y/L/N, you two are working on your 1 v 1 and if you start another fight we'll have a problem."

"Fuck!" - You let out under your breath.

You grabbed the ball closest to you.

You two did some drills, but when you tried to pass her once again she pulled you down, but you managed to trip her with your legs, and soon she was on the ground too.

"Your not gonna yell at me?" - she asked.

"I'm too tired for that." -

"Why do you do it?"

"You're the one who keeps attacking me! But I apologize for saying your not good at your job. You're actually pretty skilled."

"Yeah, just not enough to stop you."

You looked over at her watching how the sun made her eyes look, their prettiest.

"Sorry for being harsh, I just- it's frustrating."

You got up and offered her a hand up in the process, which she took.

"Let's go."

You both went into the locker room, and went straight to shower. But she accidentally slipped on the wet floor right in front of you, taking you down with her.

"This one was not intentional I swear!"

"I'm so going to get bruised." - you said trying to help each other up. But failing miserably. But taking the situation in comically.

When you two finally managed getting up, you finished showing and getting changed.

"Can you give me a ride home? I came with Lola this morning."

"You'll owe me one."

"Fine."

Next day everyone was shocked when the two of you started joking around.

"Oye, I'll go easy on you today!"

"No, you can't!"

You left for the gym, as Andrea stayed behind.

"I knew it!" - Said Lola.

"Knew what?"

"You two liked each other deep down."

The younger girl only rolled back her eyes. Leaving the room. She didn't want to admit to anything.

She stared at you the whole day. Now that she couldn't blame it on the hate, she realized that maybe those feelings she had, were more than frustration. It was a mix of admiration and longing. It felt somewhat like a crush. And the realization made her cheeks red.

"Y/N! Can you stay and train with me for a little longer?"

"Yeah of course."

Lola simply looked suspiciously at her friend. - "Don't you need me to give you a ride home?"

"Y/N can take me."

"Okay." - She didn't want to insist too much. But she knew something was up.

After spending another hour training you decided to call it a day. Heading inside.

"You're doing better at blocking me."

"You're still winning though."

"Give it some time, you'll get there."

That week during the derby, between the team and Real Madrid. You were being ferociously taken down. Probably for the same reason as aways. But that was working you up, and Andrea as well. Even if she wasn't personally getting hurt.

But when they took Wifi down, as she was about to enter the penalty area, Andrea was so annoyed, she started running from the other side of the pitch to start a fight with Oihane. But before she could you intercepted her, pulling her away the best you could.

"Hey, stop if you get another card, you're out of the game."

"I don't care!"

"Well, I'm not letting you."

"You can't boss me around like you do to everyone else!"

You thought you were past this stage of fighting for no reason. She thought so too, but right now she couldn't deal with the pressure of the game, her hot headed need to bite back and the way your arms held her back with force against yourself.

Once the game was over and you were ready to leave, you walked towards the car without saying goodbye to anyone.

But unfortunately Andrea was able to catch up with you.

"I'm really sorry."

"I thought we were on good terms!"

"I can explain, can we please get into the car?"

"I'm not giving you a ride."

"I'm not asking for one. I just want to talk privately."

You huffed as you unlocked the doors.

You both sat respectively in your seats. You waited for her to start talking.

"My head was spinning out of control. The way they were making so many fouls, and we were struggling to keep up, was getting to me and when you held me back in your arms, I just exploded."

"You keep throwing your frustrations on me again and again."

"I know, but I've been trying to fix it, since I realized where they came from."

"Which is what? Your anger issues?"

"I don't have anger issues, it's you!"

"I don't have any anger issues!"

"No, I mean I have a crush on you.

That's what has bothered me from the start!"

By now you just stared at her, mouth agape.

"You're not going to say anything?"

But before she had barely ended her sentence, you kissed her passionately. This led her to pull you from the driver's seat to seat on her lap. And when you pulled away to breathe, she decided to pull you to the backseat to blow off all the steam you had build up during the game.

And you thanked god you were parked so far from everyone else that day.

#woso x reader #espwnt #andrea medina #andrea medina x reader #atletico madrid femenino

[blue-blue-blooms]

The First Date

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Your first date with Eddie doesn't go exactly as planned after you and your friends get taken and drugged by Russian spies, making him think that you stood him up.

Warnings: A little bit of angst.

2k words

Eddie Munson.

You'd seen him around school. He was loud, rough, and slightly intimidating. 

The first time you saw him was in the cafeteria, loudly speaking about the throes of capitalism, forced conformity, and the demonization of people whom society deemed 'different'. You mostly tuned people out during lunch, but it was hard to ignore Eddie. He was so captivating. You weren't sure if it was the way he used his entire body when making a point, aggressively gesticulating, or the way his face twisted and turned as he spoke, or just his general demeanor, that made everything he said sound so poignant. He hadn't really been in your orbit before, so outside your social circle. You were friends with people like Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, not necessarily because you were popular but rather through shared trauma. There was something about going through life-altering events and near-death experiences that really bonded people for life. 

The first time you spoke to Eddie was after you saw him taping a poster on a bulletin board outside the auditorium. 

Hellfire Club. D&D. 

"Hey, is that a D&D club?" you asked him.

He turned around, slightly startled, and looked at you with surprise. 

"Oh, hey! Didn't see you there. Yeah, it's a D&D club. I'm trying to recruit new members since we're running a bit low..." He replied, giving you a hesitant smile. 

He seemed a bit nervous, slightly tugging on his hair and anxiously tapping his foot. You're pretty sure you were making him nervous. You'd seen the way people like Steve treated people like Eddie, even though Steve had grown considerably after taking out a Demogorgon and watching his girlfriend nearly die. You'd seen the way Tommy and Carol used to laugh at the 'freaks', shoving them around in the hallways, making fun of their interests, like the time Tommy made someone in the band cry during a pep rally. The realization that Eddie was nervous because he expected you to do the same slightly hurt. 

"That's cool! This kid that I babysit—his name's Dustin, he really likes D&D. He plays it a lot with his other friends. Whenever I used to babysit him, he'd drag me to their games. I never really got it, mostly because any time I asked a question, Dustin would scream at me," you breathlessly ramble, "He's not a huge fan of anyone who doesn't get the point, like, right away."

It seemed that the more you rambled, the more at ease Eddie became, and suddenly he was laughing as you spoke. 

"Well, I promise that we don't yell at anyone in Hellfire. Only when we're excited," Eddie said, a small smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you, "Just in case you ever wanna join in."

"I might take you up on that offer. I've been pegged down the list of 'coolest teens' that Dustin knows, and my ego's taken a hit," you joked. 

You hadn't ended up joining Hellfire. But you and Eddie had become sort of friends. You'd see him around school. You were both in some of the same classes, you'd see him in the hallways and you'd wave at each other. Sometimes you'd see him in the parking lot after school and you'd chat for a bit. But that was the extent of it. You didn't grow closer until summer started and you got a job at Starcourt. You worked at Café Nocturne, right across from Scoops Ahoy where Steve had started working. Most days, you spent your lunch break lounging around Scoops Ahoy, eating free ice cream, and making fun of Steve with his co-worker Robin. Sometimes you wondered what Eddie was up to, not having seen him since summer started, and you found yourself hoping you'd see him around Starcourt. 

It wasn't until the second week of summer that you saw Eddie. The Café had been relatively quiet, only an old couple sitting in the far corner drinking lattes. You were trying to pass the time by making random drinks when you saw Eddie lingering by the cash register. 

"Eddie!" you said, surprising yourself by how loud you were. You cleared your throat awkwardly and shuffled over to him, sending him a shy smile. 

"Y/N? Hey, I didn't know you worked here," Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "It's nice to see you again, I was wondering where you went."

"Oh, just been making coffee...hanging out with my friends," you replied, "How's your summer been so far?"

"Erm, yeah, it's been okay. I've just been working, hanging out with Gareth and Jeff, writing some new music," Eddie replied.

"For Corroded Coffin, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, wow, how'd you know about that?" Eddie said, nervously twirling his hair. 

"Oh-um...I heard you talking about it in the cafeteria once," you responded, hoping you didn't sound like a stalker.

"Right, yeah, you should come see us sometime. We play in the Hide Out every Tuesday," Eddie said, as a shy grin crept on his face, "We kinda get a crowd, actually...of about five drunks."

You let out a small giggle, "That sounds nice. Unfortunately, I work every Tuesday. Maybe when school starts?" 

Eddie was slightly deflated at that, nodding his head in understanding. Not wanting to ruin your one chance at spending time with Eddie this summer, you hesitatingly asked, "Maybe we can hang out sometime? You could teach me D&D? I didn't get the chance to learn when you first offered..."

Eddie immediately perked up at that, nodding vigorously as he said, "Yeah! Yeah, that'd be great. I can totally do that. Erm, do you wanna meet here tomorrow at 7? We could grab some food-"

"Oh, I was hoping we could meet somewhere else. Maybe at Patty's diner? It's just that I spend all my time at Starcourt," you responded.

"Yeah, that works. Patty's at 7. It's a date," Eddie replied, before quickly backtracking. "Not like a date-date, I just meant, like, a platonic date. Like just friends hanging out, chilling, y'know? Unless you want it to be a date? It doesn't have to be! But, like-"

You cut him off before he could dig further into the hole he found himself in, giggling a little at how flustered he looked. "It's a date. A non-platonic, hopefully romantic, date."

"That's...that's great, yeah. I will see you then," Eddie said breathlessly, shuffling his way out as he raised a hand to wave goodbye, almost knocking into the table behind him as he left.

God, he's adorable. 

♡♡♡

"I swear to God Dustin, if we die in this elevator, I will strangle you with my bare hands," you grit out, pacing back and forth as everyone tried to reel in their panic, "I have a fucking date in two hours and if I miss it, I will literally end you."

"No one gives a shit about your stupid date," Dustin yelled, throwing his hands around wildly as Erica slammed a bottle of weird-looking fluid on the wall. You weren't even gonna try and deal with that, it looked like Robin had it handled as you watched her snatch the bottle from Erica's hands. 

Things escalated pretty quickly from there and suddenly you were lying on the floor of a bathroom cubicle, trying to make the room stop spinning. 

"Is this what it feels like to do drugs?" you groaned out, stretching on the disgusting tiles and praying that your head stopped pounding. 

"I wouldn't know," Robin replied, "But if it is, this sucks."

"Steve? Are you alive?" you asked, "I don't need you dying on me. You're my ride home." 

"I'm good," you heard him croak.

"Think we puked it all out?" you asked.

"Let's check...interrogate me." Robin said.

"When's the last time you peed your pants?" Steve asked, and you heard Robin let out a cackle, "Today."

"What the fuck, Robin?" you laughed.

"It was when they took out the bone saw. And only a little!" she defended herself, giggling with you. 

"I'm meant to be on a date," you moaned, "He's gonna think I stood him up. How am I meant to explain this shit?" 

"We'll figure it out," Steve replied, "Also, who's this guy anyway? You've been moaning about missing this date for, like, hours?"

"Yeah, it's getting kinda annoying," Robin added. 

"It's Eddie." you replied, crawling into the stall next to you and sitting down in front of Robin. "Eddie Munson. He's a senior. Long, curly, untamed hair. Really loud. Plays D&D."

"Wait, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson? Isn't he a drug dealer?" Steve asked, a little surprised. 

"Don't call him that!" you said, slightly defensive, "And I didn't know that. But if this is what drug consumption is like then he needs to stop."

As the drugs slowly purged out of your systems, and Steve tried to hit on Robin only to get rejected and have a heart-to-heart, the three of you found yourselves giggling hysterically in the dingy bathroom. It wasn't long until Dustin and Erica burst in and dragged you all out. As the night progressed, things only got worse. And soon, all of you were facing off a thirty-feet tall Mind Flayer and reeling from the loss that followed. Then the dust settled, a different story was fabricated, and everyone had to pretend to move on. And you had an apology to give.

♡♡♡

You didn't see Eddie until school started again. It was the first day back, hallways busy and bustling as the freshmen teetered around cluelessly. This year felt different, like there was some cosmic shift in the air. Everything seemed duller, void of any feeling. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but if you had to guess then it was probably the Starcourt 'fire' that had brought on this change. Things weren't the same after. It was like all of Hawkins was reeling from the loss, despite not having known the truth. You wished that you'd been oblivious. Maybe then everything wouldn't hurt this much. 

You didn't see Eddie around school until lunch. You were almost sure he was avoiding you. You finally saw him lingering in the hallway by his locker, putting some books in, and you immediately made a beeline for him. 

"Eddie!" you called, startling him as he looked up. 

You walked over before he could say anything, "I've been looking all over for you! I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to Patty's. I wanted to explain everything over the summer, but my parents grounded me, which was incredibly annoying since I didn't even do anything. But I think they were just super paranoid and didn't know what else to do and I didn't have your number so I couldn't call you and-"

Your rambling was cut off by Eddie as he held up his hands and dismissively waved, "It's cool, it's fine. Honestly, I don't know why I thought you would show up. If it was some joke or whatever, like, it's...whatever."

"What? No! That wasn't some joke. I really wanted to go on that date, but you know what happened at Starcourt, right?" you anxiously spoke.

"The fire? I don't see what that has to do with anything. Doesn't your shift end at 5?" Eddie asked skeptically. 

"Yes, yes it does! But I usually hang out at Scoops Ahoy because Steve's my ride home. I was doing that and then the whole fire thing happened, and I just got caught up in all of that, and then, y'know the house arrest? My parents thought if I stepped outside, I'd die or something," you quickly explained, "I promise I didn't stand you up!"

Eddie looked at you for a while until a small smile crept up on his face, "Relax, I believe you."

You immediately let out a sigh of relief, "I promise I'm not an asshole." 

There were a few moments of silence that stretched between you two until Eddie finally spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened. That must've been horrifying."

You don't know the half of it. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Erm, yeah, it was. But I've had some time to recover."

"How about we re-do that date?" Eddie asked, "Except this time I'm gonna pick you up, can't imagine the types of trouble you get into when I'm not around."

"Sounds good, Eds." you smiled, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. As you broke away, you could see a small blush settling on his face.

"God, Y/N, buy me dinner first."

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #corroded coffin #starcourt #hawkins #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #angst #drabble #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #light angst #stranger things oc #stranger things imagine #eddie munson is a sweetheart #eddie munson is shy #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rheanys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− my Lady, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; his fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rheanys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fanfic #canon aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #hotd fanfic #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fandom #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond x niece

[dwreader]

Post-Season 1 IWTV Podcast Transcript

Special Guests: Assad Zaman, Rolin Jones and Mark Johnson

"Armand is someone who comes into Louis's life in the second half of IWTV, they meet in Paris and Armand is immediately like most people completely entrhalled by everything about Louis and what he stands for. He's changed from the person he was before he met Louis, which is a person who's a bit lost in the monotony of his life is the way I would describe it. -Assad Zaman

[intro chit chat with Assad]

Assad: Armand is someone who comes into Louis's life in the second half of IWTV, they meet in Paris and Armand is immediately like most people completely entrhalled by everything about Louis and what he stands for. He's changed from the person he was before he met Louis, which is a person who's a bit lost in the monotony of his life is the way I would describe it.

N: Its been 500 years its definitely been monotonous. [514] Ok yes 514. Ok we get it. You need some love in your life. Now did you know from the beginning like when you got the sides, were you told you were going to be playing Armand.

A: I think if I knew I was auditioning for Armand, I wouldn't be here. I think just the prospect the notion would send me over the edge and I would crumble. I got the audition, a couple scenes with Daniel Molloy, a character named Rashid, I know who this guy is he's highly efficient and he's got skills, very clear part to play in. I kind of went in and did those tapes fairly confidently. Then I got a recall and another scene added, with a bit more subtext. Rashid has a bit of a sting to him with his status. Then I got a third recall and Rolin asked to have a meeting with me on Zoom, give some notes... I was thinking why is he wasting his time talking to me about Rashid when he's got Louis and Lestat to worry about so I'm terrified I get onto Zoom with him and okay okay so basically Rashid is in disguise, he's not Rashid he's actually the vampire Armand and he proceeds to tell me all about Armand. I'm think just don't lose your cool. This has to be a secret and we don't want to leak it but we want to see a bit more from you. And I got off the call and I almost started crying.

N: So how much time did you get then? between that first audition to the recall? You have to go from a no nonsense assistant to I am a vampire king?

A: They gave me maybe 8 or 9 hrs between the call with Rolin and the next tape I sent over. And then I did another 4 rounds after that... it was a grueling process.

N: Once you get to set, everyone knows or its still a secret you're witholding?

A: Apart from the main cast, a lot of the crew didn't know.

N: Sit quiet in a corner and don't attention?

A: That' was my initial approach to Rashid before I knew he was Armand. All  he wants is to keep his job and not get killed.

N: Now while you're filming the first season, what convos did you have with Rolin about the plan for Armadn in the show?

A: We did discuss wth events in IWTV and where we're gonna see him in season 2, a lot of that is very important. Where Rolin has curiosity is when we look into Armand's past and where he came from, there's some obvious differences to me in what to explore and to see what we want to pick from it. His story.. its complex. He's messed up. He was messed up even before he became a vampire. The events that makes Armand have to be complex enough to see how he turned into  what he is. .... I was also very aware as an actor a duty to the story being told in this moment, it's Louis's story and him recounting it to Daniel, their story is very important as well. As much as Armand is sizzling in the background, I have to honor their story as well. We don't want the audience to draw too much attention to it right now cause it deviates from the story and the themes that are important to explore in the season.

N: When Rashid revealed himself, I screamed. It only works cause Rashid has so cleverly.. you almost forgot about him.. "love of his life"? Louis?? Not another old vampire and this one who can stand in the sun.

A: We hope that he hasnt made the same mistakes all over again.

N: Why is he pretending to be Rashid this whole time?

A: I think it's incredibly painful for the love of his life describing another love of his life. There is also curiosity with Daniel about why he's allowing this interview to happen.

N: And Rashid was there in that first interview so that whole thing makes sense.

A: We actually don't know what transpired in SF, cause he was not there in the book. How far did Louis get and what Armand had to do to stop him? That could also be why this interview is happening.

N: A little taste of what's to come in s2?

A: Theatrics, vespas and romance is in the air. We're in Paris. It's a gorgeous part of the Paris and the journey they take to get to Paris and the showdown that has to happen in Paris.

Highlights of Rolin Jones/Mark Johnson

N: How are you feeling about Season 2? Is there pressure? Is there a feeling that OK we did one and now we can really dig in?

R: Actually I'm just sort of being excited about Season 2 and not being scared out of my mind with it. The second half of iwtv, there's some lovely passages but there's a lot of people sitting around talking.

M: It's a whole new continent, but it's characters Rolin has already created. Im feeling quite confident and excited and abuzz about what we're going to do next season.

N: I'm very curious what attracted you to vampires and the world of AR.

M: I was not familiar with AR to begin with, my excitement has to do with what Rolin did with it for the pilot and thought this is extraordinary and I read AR and realized all of the treasures, of what Rolin took advantage of and what needed redressing.

N: Rolin, can you explain to me the process, you know, how did you pitch yourself as the showrunner of this?

R: I had an overall meeting with them about a list of things I wanted to do and as I was leaving they said we forgot to mention our boss bought the Anne Rice books, I stopped and I put everything and I said we're gonna take another 45 min for the meeting. By the time I left, I knew that's what I was going to do. They put me thru the gauntlet to prove if I was a guy. It wasn't just about whats a good poilot or first season it's what does this look like 8 seasons from now.... I was really excited cause I wanted to do something grand and big. I had some of my theater pals create a visual world.

N: Let's talk about Louis being black. I feel as though we are in this age of adaptation or reboots if there will be a gender or race swap and that's the extent of it. It felt as though you making this change meant you got more story, you were able to mine that fact for more story points and a new dynamic. These two men are famously white... and I'm wondering about the choice to do that and what it was to execute that.

R: I came around to his ethnicity a sort of interesting way which is through Lestat. There's a famous rewrite of Lestat in book 2, he's sort of an aggressively different character than what he was in book 1 and that's the Lestat she carried on for the rest of time. So that's our Lestat. So we tried to take the given circumstances and put him back in this time period, so he had a super emo relationship wtih this guy with Nicki, then he had uhhh  a very excitable relationship with his mother as his second companion choice (we'll get into that in season 3 y'all), and then I was like lets give him a legitimate a third attempt at figuring how to be with somebody for the rest of his life and how to not repeat your mistakes. And I started from there so it had to be someone with some money cause he had to be with his own folks and I thought he wanted someone who could fight back and who could be a challenge and would force him to restrain himself. And nobody at AMC was interested in 7 seasons of the regretful plantation owner, so we made Louis come from a lineage that did have a plantation and did own slaves. And the second thing was aesthetic if you take away the ruffle shirts and all the swampy goodness and you wanted to make this new, whats the new hot time and birth of jazz seemed right on. And there was a spot when a black man could get in on some business and have some morally gray thing that owning a plantation would. It all clicked into place pretty quickly. ... and the other thing is you're trying to build as much inherent conflict, enough not to burn thru in a season you want 7-8 years of conflict and distress and vulnerability in both of them. I wanted to load Louis with as many contradictions and things unsettled as possible.

N: How did you decide when to deviate from Anne's books? Were there rules in what you could invent ?

R: There were a couple caveats make it here and now, make it grand and big but we said she wrote a very transgerssive book in 1973 and tried to put her in the room in 2021 making a TV show... there's no point in making it if you're going to make a roughshot of it. You're constantly revisiting the book. That's when you're in draft, in after produciton draft, dropping in as much Anne as we could. We were going to write the heightened language thats in the novel. 

N: Can you tell me about how you found Jacob and Sam?

R: Obviously 9 billion people auditioned. It was very clear something very dynamic was happening when they got in the Zoom. For Jacob, there's this genuine warmth, kindness, for a character who's going to make a number of questionable choices, how do you make you want to love him? .

...

N: Did you always know the season was going to end with the reveal of Armand and the "murder" of Lestat?

R: Very early on, we were talking about making this thing in the writers room and pre-production. A lot had to do with lumber and covid. We were wrting scripts for the entire book and we got a lovely call from AMC "is there enough in this story to stay in new orleans this whole season?" So what we ended up doing, we made the first 4 into the first 7. We did that 50 days before we shot our first day.. it was a lot. And it was to the benefit of the show, we made a better product. We were not going to be able to do Europe in the same beautiful detailed way we were doing New Orleans. What was originally 8 episodes is now a 15 episode book. Was that the ending of my season 1? Not originally but it became the ending.

M: Now it's hard to imagine how we were going to pack all that into one season.

N: There's such a movement to that finale.

R: For me, that kind of episode. It's one for the people, the one for everyone else. you're doing twists and turns like a thriller. My favorite scene is the one that stops the action, the balcony scene...

N: Thinking this is all from Louis's memory.

R: Memory is a huge part of the show. We are only 7 episodes into a 15 episode story.

Audience Q: How sympathetic do you think Lestat is? Obviously this man has some major flaws like the whole next book is a whole lot of backpeddaling like he's not so bad he's not so bad. How sympathetic do you think he really is?

R: The more you spend time with it. I find Lestat wildly sympathetic. and the way it's built... You're not gonna see Lestat speaking for himself until season 3. Its a big deal right? You go ahead and have someone else tell the world about you from their POV. Who had the most traumatic entrance into the world of vampires? It's Lestat. You have no idea the baggage going into North America. We are playing with POV. Stick with Lestat, he's got a lot of pain.

Q: Why is Louis truly doing the interview? He says I wanna redo, but yet he's doing the same thing, he's dodging, cagey. Why did you bring this man to Dubai to do this?

R: It is absolutely THE question. IF you wanna know what we're still digging out, it's the why of it. There's a reason why this is the second interview. The first interview is very important. Something signifcant life altering happened in 1973 but they weren't the right people to do back then. There's a lot if meat on Louis's side, Daniel's side and most important Armand's side.. who's become the most fascinating character of season 2. There's a lot in Dubai left to be revealed.

Q: Do we think we've seen the end of Lestat and Louis's sexcapades?

R: So it's AMC, we are trying to sliding as much under the door as we possibly can. We are interested in the whole thing - the sex sure, the love story, the psychological torment, we are trying to write a love story that doesn't disappear after book 1. There's Armand coming..

N: Can we talk about what's to come? You're hinting this show can go on for many seasons, how long?

R: The real reason I wanted to do this show.. season 3. The Vampire Lestat. I really know how I wanna do The Vampire Lestat and I couldn't be more excited about it... and as goofy as body switching is, I think there's something in the tale of the body thief. QOTD... you gotta think on that one, how to do such a massive object, if you do it in one or two seasons.

#vampterview #rewind the tape

[humming-fly]

I’m being SO normal about these leaked ling and lan fan alts for the fma mobile game definitely am not completely obsessed loosing my shit over these no siree

#jk i'm screaming #catch me trying to six star these without actually spending real world money #with the new mechanics as long as i get one of each it's doable!! #it just takes like 8 months of daily grinding but!! doable!! #anyways the common guess is these are for chinese new year but some folks are saying the new update shouldn't have content for that far out #so could be the second half of the holiday event? who knows #and also who cares LOOK AT THESE SKINS #fma #fma mobile #ling yao #lan fan #humming-rambles #(also i know they're probably alts not skins but that's just the term i use more often lol)

[goldicthehedgefox]

gotta say, Shallot looks great in Trunks's clothes

#dragon ball legends #goldic's draconic legends #goldic rambles #shallot #shallot DBL #got the outfit from an event halfway through the android section of the story slapped it on him and never looked back #currently hunting down the stars I missed early in the story and decided to let Shallot loose since I never really use him outside the stor #too busy experimenting with the other units I have to let my max power Shallot run wild yunno? #tbh I'm actually just hunting down any Z Power I might've missed for Shallot cuz I've seen people have him in red stars and mine's only 7* #granted: fully completing story mode 100% is on the eternal bucket list but I really wanna see Shallot reach 7*+ #Fun Fact: I had Shallot wear Nappa's scouter right after getting it up until he unlocked SSB on my file cuz it looked nice with the outfit #i CAN'T be the only one that thinks Shallot looks great in this outfit; something about it just screams Hell Yeah to me #for those that are curious: I run Ultra Super Vegito's blue card on Shallot #the hand refill is so nice after watching him bash someone's face in and blast them #but also i think the animation suits him #can't wait for legends fest it's gonna be so much fun; my first legends fest! yippeeeee!

[rovermcfly]

JAMES LANCE interviewed for Creators Faire

#james lance #ted lasso #fellas I think I may have a disease #and it's called james lance brainworms #I can't believe this is a real person I'm looking at here #screaming biting crying etc #yes there will be more gifs because I am... unwell #I don't need food or water I just need to look at him at this event in this look #rovergifs #trent crimm

[torgawl]

it's been like 3 hours and i can't stop thinking about xiao and aether. you guys don't get it. it's the way the heart in qixing is likely referring to aether. it's because aether dedicated his poem and his dreams to xiao. it's because xiao smiled when he heard it. it's the way he's always looking out for aether. it's because even though everything was okay xiao made the effort to be vocal about how worried he was when aether pretended to drown. it's because aether is the only person capapable of persuading xiao, to the point others are aware he would do anything for him only and use it to convince him every chance they get. it's because aether is the only person capable of relieving the pain of xiao's karmic debt, not because of his powers but solely by being a part of xiao's life. it's because during the lantern rite instead of looking at the sky xiao looks at aether. it's because everytime they're together everyone else always comments about how close and fond of each other they are. it's because xiao is the only character aether is able to have alone time with without paimon. it's because as long as aether says his name xiao will always answer his call.

#I COULD GO ON #i'm not over their smiles #i will never get over their smiles #they actually look like they're in love #aether talked like wtf actually during a time limited event? out of nowhere? 😂 #TO SAY HIS POEM TO XIAO? #sorry but that's homosexual behaviour #okay i'll shut up now #but i love them so so much #i also saw leaks about this event and i know this will get even gayer so prepare for my screams on monday too bye shsjhsjs #okay but let me add the fact xiao is becoming more and more social and how traveller specifically encourages him to talk with others #and waiting for them to be alone to speak #xiao's growth being shown so well as time goes on throughout the game is one of my favourite things in genshin #i like when there's obvious care in telling a story and using time to emphasise it #i think it makes it so much more meaningful #and traveller being pointed out as the reason xiao is able to heal and grow is extremely beautiful #like no matter what their connection is just so pure and loving #something about being able to explore the world when you have a safe space to come back to #that's what xiao was lacking and that he now has with someone :')

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji

dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.

apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.

starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???

like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.

megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….

megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.

nobara:

yuuji:

nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?

imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)

megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.

maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.

yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?

nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?

& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:

megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.

nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:

megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.

cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.

IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.

you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.

maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.

maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta’s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.

maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.

i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.

i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.

*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*

since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane

i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.

Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved

Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*

Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.

megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.

Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.

see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.

i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.

#ironically the one thing that WOULD endear yuuta to yuuji is finding out about all of this #yuuji would instantly love him for all he did for Their Boy. it's the only way i see megumi actually fessing up to what happened #i think megumi's just someone who's really private and uncomfortable with people knowing a lot about him and he would try to hide this from #itakugi for as long as he could. it probably eats at him that the second years all saw him like this. i think he just hates feeling vulnera #megumi gives him the /extremely/ abridged version of events to get yuuji and nobara to chill about yuuta and how he acts (yuuji is convince #that there's no one who could be that perfect nobara keeps looking for homosexual explanations) and they instantly veer hard into finding #out everything there is to know about the zenin and how to hurt them and also yuuta's like. beloved in their eyes. megumi is their boy. #they love their boy. yuuta saved their boy. ergo they love yuuta now. it's simple math. #tonal shift is a huge sort of struggle with me as a writer just because i change my styles with every narrator #which is why it's kind of hard to flip between works if the tone is too different. i was trying to juggle sea glass gardens and toy rosarie #and i was just internally screaming b/c yuuta and jack could NOT be more different with narration styles and i was like 'fuckkkkkkkkk' #with yuuta i structure sentences with a lot of 'space' in them. i don't have a better word for it i'm not actually trained in writing so #it's all just whatever shit i made up along the way i have no officially terms. anyway. Yuuta's sentences are structured to have this sort #of detached distance between the actual message and the start of the sentence. So we end up with a lot of sentences that start w/ structure #like “yuuta thinks” and Yuuta feels“ b/c I think of yuuta as a very detached person because of how he lived. it's a survival mechanism. #a lot of the meat of what he feels has to come in almost absentmindedly. So you end up with Yuuta's suicide scene and losing the knife and #him having a line like “He swears he never meant any of the bad things he did” and the fact that he thinks his own survival is a bad thing #/he's/ to blame for is almost backdoor'd in as a given premise. it's assumed. it's not even the point of the sentence. he's been living wit #jack murdock meanwhile is an intensively retrospective character that's meant to make you almost feel claustrophobic from how “close” his #narration style is. a lot of the actual message is conveyed through imagined scenarios and emotional recollection. he's a character steeped #in regret who has been torturing himself with it for years. yuuta's survival mechanism is isolation but jacks been yearning to get back wha #he lost for so long and dreaming of it that he's steeped in really vivid internal imaginings. #with jack you have multipage lamentations remembering his son buying cereal with him but yuuta drops the fact that his parents stopped #loving him at some point and it's not even the most important thing in the sentence. it's included as a qualifier because yuuta has accepte #so much of the bad things that happened to him when he shouldn't have whereas jack hasn't accepted ANYTHING that happened. #Yuuta uses a lot of very clean cut grammatically correct narration and jacks is riddled with a bunch of “ain't's” and grammatical errors. #he has an accent for lack of a better term. so you end up w/ two characters who convey information in different ways prioritize different #info in their sentences use different sentence structures etc. so megumi would have a /very different/ style and tone from yuutas that woul #sort of shape any fic that came through him because all of my fics are primarily shaped through the narrator's voice. it's also why I set #kind of hard lines about whether a fic can have any narrator or just specific narrators b/c it determines the whole tone.

[advnterccs-archive]

@countlessrealities sent; Just as his boyfriend, Morty had waited for the party to die down, before deciding that it was time to deliver his present. However, his counterpart had preceded him, hardly giving him the time to grab the gift he had prepared before he was led upstairs to witness the sweet private moment the other had prepared for him.

And there they were, sharing the cupcake that his boyfriend had baked for him. Morty was trying his hardest not to fidget in his spot on the floor, but doing so became harder and harder with every second that ticked away. He had been waiting for a good moment to offer his own present, but he was quickly reaching the conclusion that it would have never come. Not unless he created him.

So, when his counterpart took the next bite of his half of the cupcake, smearing a hint of frosting next to the side of his lips, Morty reached out to wipe it off with his thumb, using the gesture as an excuse to catch his boyfriend's attention.

"Uh, I-I got your something too," he hurried to say, before his counterpart could react.

Licking the bit of frosting off his finger, the teen stuffed his hand inside his pocket. After a moment, he pulled out a small object, wrapped in bright yellow paper wrap. Inside it there was a small spherical projector that, activated, when shown stars and planets.

"I-It's...I asked the Ricks, uh, help me make this an-and program an hologram o-of the stars visible from your favourite places," he explained with a slightly nervous grin. "B-But there's also...uh, this is very cheesy, but I...I added something."

Taking back the projector, he hit a small yellow button near the lower edge of the device and the stars projected changed, moving to form words instead of constellations.

Happy birthday, Morty <3, the first line said and underneath...

"I-I love you," Morty forced out, with just the slightest trembling in his voice. "I-I know that we haven't been...I-I meant, we haven't been together long an-and this is my first long lasting, serious relationship, an-and I don't want to fuck it up, but..."

A deep steadying breath and then the words finally came out steadier even despite his usual stuttering.

"I-I know all that, and I just can't...not say it anymore. I-I don't expect you to, uh, say it back or anything but...Y-You're amazing, the best boyfriend ever, an-and you're...so great. I-I really admire you. So...I had to say it."

[[ Morty for your Morty 💛 || They both went for something cute and sweet and I love it~ Also because it's enough to make them happy 🤭 ]]

The smooth wipe of a finger against the corner of Morty's lips brought his attention over to his counterpart. That simple action enough to cause a pink tint to his cheeks. He hoped that the dark ambient lighting in the bedroom could cover it. It certainly wasn't any time to embarrass himself. Especially in a time like this.

He didn't have much time to say anything. Too blissfully stunned by the way that frosting covered thumb disappeared in his counterpart's mouth. As well as the promise of a gift about to be revealed.

For a moment, he stayed silent. Curious about what his boyfriend had planned for him. He couldn't even guess what it could be, but he knew that it would have been special. Causing his heart to pitter-patter against his chest.

He took the small object and carefully ripped open the yellow wrapping paper. On first glance, he could tell it was a projector of some kind. Even if smaller than one that he usually has seen.

Hearing the explanation for it, however, brought stars into his brown softened gaze. A little speechless for the time being as he watched it turn on. Showing off the words written in the constellations.

Tears lined at the ducts of his eyes. Shit, he didn't mean to get this emotional. Especially on his birthday, especially at such a declaration such as this. It was perfect. So god damn perfect.

And he couldn't imagine it any other way.

He knew that his counterpart was rambling now, but it didn't matter. It was endearing and so very thoughtful. That made the moment even more magical.

So, when the last lines were spoken, he propelled himself forward. Both hands placed on the other's chest, knocking them both onto the ground.

Soft kisses were pressed all over his boyfriend's face. Covering every inch of cheek, forehead, and jaw with small little kisses. As a few tear drops fell and landed.

And when he finally calmed himself down, fully settling himself comfortably on top of his boyfriend's body, he sighed. "I-I love you, too. M-More than I can say a-and for a while now,"

With a gentle smile, he laid his head on his boyfriend's collar bone. Closing his eyes, snuggling up close. "I-I hope it's... not to weird or too soon to say this, but y-you're.... y-you're my forever, PM."

An arm wrapped around tight along that waist line, pulling in the body closer to himself. "Th-Thank you a-and happy birthday."

#countlessrealities #{ answers ; 🎮 } #{ ic ; 🎮 ; morty } #event 🎮 ; ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴍᴏʀᴛ #&V1. 'ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ꜱᴘʟɪᴛ' ; 🛸🌌 #{ ᴹᵒʳᵗʸ ⁺ ᴹᵒʳᵗʸ || ɪ'ᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ -- ɪ'ᴍ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ } #{ i'm screaming i'm crying i'm just 🥰🥰🥰 } #{ they're definitely so adorable u-u !! } #{ i love them so much ! and they're so in love and so happy !! } #{ look at them !! what a good way to end the birthday celebrations <3 }

[crimeloyalty-arch]

𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐌⸻ some ~thoughts~ about harley and arkham,  mostly inspired by harleen but also a bit by the mad love novel.

arkham is a place that’s given up on its patients ⸻ sometimes because of a lack of resources (or the misappropriation of them),  sometimes because its leadership is simply unempathetic to its residents,  sometimes because its doctors are burnt out from their lack of successes.  

people don’t get out of arkham,  not by getting better,  at least.  there’s been so few patients who have improved over the last decade that by the time harleen joins the staff,  most of the doctors have lost hope completely.  what’s the point in trying when nothing seems to get through to your patients?  harleen resents this attitude,  unable to see the point in practicing medicine if one has no faith in the work they’re doing.  her fellow doctors attribute her optimism to her lack of experience,  expecting that she will give up as they have after a few months at the institution.  

most of arkham’s funding goes towards security measures,  rather than towards advancements in treatment.  most of its funding is private ⸻ and a significant portion of it is from those in gotham who do not wish to see arkham’s patients released,  regardless of whether or not they’re improving. harleen resents this too,  though there is little she can do about it without losing her own job.  she vows to help arkham’s patients,  rather than to give up on them. 

harleen’s primary purpose at arkham is to find subjects for her research;  she’s trying to demonstrate a link between long-term exposure to traumatic or violent events and the erosion of one’s capacity for empathy.   

she’s on staff neither to provide therapy nor to handle patient medications.  the irony of this is not lost on her,  as she feels she cares far more about arkham’s patients than most of the other doctors on staff.  their apathy infuriates her.  

her research is funded by a grant from the wayne foundation,  and bruce wayne swayed joan leland into allowing harleen access to arkham.  she also intends to do comparative research at blackgate prison,  but does not get the opportunity to do so before harvey dent’s attack,  as blackgate is more reluctant than arkham is to allow her access. 

since harleen is both fresh out of college and not a true employee of arkham,  nobody takes her all that seriously.  nobody believes in the work she’s doing. she’s very isolated from the rest of the staff as a result ⸻ and even when she does interact with them,  they make it very clear that they find her ambition a function of her youth.  harleen is written off over and over and over again,  simply because she is a young woman who wants to change the world.  no one bothers critiquing the scientific validity of her ideas - it is all personal.  this plays a huge part in joker being able to manipulate harleen,  because she is so fucking determined to prove everybody wrong about whether or not she can make a difference that she loses her ability to tell whether or not their critiques are based in reality. 

harleen’s goal at arkham is neither to write a best-selling book nor to become a tv psychiatrist,  like some older comics have suggested (🙄).  she is there because she wants to help gotham.  she believes that if she can figure out how trauma and empathy are connected,  she can help gotham’s criminals,  allowing them to break the cycle they have been trapped in.  she wants to change the world,  not get rich and famous.   

the decision to allow harleen full access to the joker is a mistake.  while harleen bears responsibility for allowing the doctor/patient relationship to erode so significantly,  arkham failed its patients,  failed its staff,  and failed gotham by its inadequate internal controls. 

despite arkham leadership having been fully aware of the joker’s manipulative capability ( and having witnessed his interactions with his prior doctors ),  they allow harleen to interact with the joker alone.  part of this is due to her insistence,  but at no point do they intervene. they do not even intervene when harleen unplugs the cameras for her sessions,  which is such a massive fucking red flag that i truly do not know how nobody was like,  something is going on and we need to stop it. it’s not exactly news that arkham is incompetent,  but the fact that harleen was literally able to sleep with the joker while he was being held in arkham is beyond professional incompetence.  somebody should have noticed,  and somebody should have intervened well before things got to that point,  especially when j is known for his escapes and for manipulating his doctors. 

harleen has always struggled with the concept of professional boundaries,  since she believes connecting with her patients is important in breaking through to them,  though i do not think this would have ever been anything more than a theoretical issue with anybody other than the joker.  she would have upheld her professional responsibilities with any other patient ( which is demonstrated by her professionalism with ivy,  though we all know how that relationship develops once they are both out of arkham. )  harleen would have been an excellent doctor had she never come into contact with the joker,  who played on every single one of her sympathies,  hopes,  and triggers in order to get her completely under his control.

once harley escapes joker,  she works with bruce wayne to ensure that nothing like what happened to her will ever happen again.  cameras stay plugged in.  patients don’t get unlimited access to their doctors.  guards perform routine checks.  she’s determined to leave no more cracks in the system for people like j to wiggle through.

it’s incredibly difficult for harley to sort out responsibility for what happened in arkham.  part of the events that unfolded are entirely on her head.  sleeping with your patient is just about the worst thing you can do as a psychiatrist.  she had so many opportunities to look herself in the mirror and stop.  that doesn’t mean that arkham wasn’t also in the wrong,  as they should have noticed what was going on and stepped in on their patients’ behalf.  no doctor should have access like that,  especially with such a vulnerable population.  additionally,  harley knows that the events up until harvey dent’s attack played out exactly as joker wanted ⸻ he went so far as to steal the file on her research in order to make himself the perfect patient.  she played right into his hand and she had no idea.  it’s insanely messy,  like so much of her life,  and she has a very hard time finding the balance between holding herself accountable and forgiving herself as a result.  none of this would have happened with anyone other than j,  but harley still will doubt herself and her decision making for the rest of her life because of the way these events played out.  i think this is why she is so fucking unlikely to ever go back into psychiatry and why she would retrain in another specialty, such as surgery. 

#i just find it so immensely frustrating how harleen is immediately laughed off for daring to believe that she might have a good idea #because you know what? she is a damn good scientist and a damn good doctor ( j aside... ) #it's not like she's NOT qualified. she literally is written off because she is young and hopeful. it makes her want to scream!!!! #it makes me want to scream too #when u alienate young women u should not be surprised when they turn away from u #( not that harley was.. like.. justified in anything that happened. i'm just saying.) #woulda been a lot harder for j to manipulate her if she wasn't so damn isolated #would have made such a huge difference if any of her superiors/peers had just... believed in her. given her the benefit of the doubt #and i know hindsight is 2020 and it's easy to be like 'well she didn't DESERVE the benefit of the doubt look what happened!' #but i would argue that the events with j would have been much less likely had literally. anyone. stood up for harleen. #cause a large part of the problem is that she literally feels like 'curing' j is the only fucking way she can PROVE herself #it's just a mess #⸻ on the very moment all was lost — arc 1. #⸻ i haven’t met the new me yet — headcanons.

[hua-fei-hua]

there’s such an odd feeling to transcribing what my eighth grade diary has to say about being ~plagued~ by the feelings and experiences of having a crush, since i reflect on prior crushes and treat the situation like there will be an inevitable new, other crush someday, but i really did not turn out how the me at the age of thirteen imagined i would.

#some of the metaphors i used are pretty interesting to the me of right now #comparisons to a wild animal in a cage who is ultimately unsure if they truly wish for freedom while screaming for it all the same #now who does THAT remind me of //laughs as i affectionately pat my anime sonboy #a lot of the experiences are also described as kind of frightening and frustrating and terrible with the blame placed on the crush itself #like not the object of my unfortunate affections but the feelings i had that made up my crush on him #i was a Crush Apologist at the time if you wanna word it that way lmao #the volume i'm transcribing rn also seems to be the start of my calligraphy fiddlings AS WELL AS the dawn of my friendship w/nat #it's so easy to look at this version of myself and say i was naive at the time and i was #but there was also this intensity to the way i lived that i miss and admire #there's this bleeding-heart feeling knowing that this child grows up to be me. i love them and i believe in their strength n ability SO much #and ofc i empathize with their experiences bc they're my own and i was right i did learn from them! #but someday it will not be so close. someday the me at the age of thirteen will have the distance from these events that i have now #i kind of wish there was a word for this feeling. i don't think nostalgia or empathy fully cover it but they're aspects of it #nostalgia empathy hope and love... it's just a bleeding-heart feeling and i think i'll make up a word or smth for it later #花話 #but for now i'll get back to transcription hahaha

[sugume]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

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[thekittyburger]

Just found out you have to put in absurd amount of effort for hair as a wedding guest otherwise they'll drag you behind the registry office and shoot you or something idk

#do you know how painful and jarring a different hairstyle is #like having it out is bad enough #but apparently you can't have it natural? #if you have straight or wavy hair you have to curl it #and if its curly or wavy you have to straighten it #basically you have to look like you care #which i do! #very happy for them! #but i dont understand why you have to look like you've put effort in??? #I've got an intense fear of any heated element near my head #so curling/straightening is out of the question #but my mum doesnt care #she just wants me to look socially acceptable she doesnt care if i have a melt/shutdown #like I'm already going to be dead because it's a whole day event #and you put this on me aswell?? #on top of her not wanting me to get an autism diagnosis like. id rather know I'm a zebra instead of a shit horse #i just know I'm going to curl up and die after 5 minutes #vent #vent tw #kitty screams #like people just have their hair out sometimes for weddings #why is that not an option for me??