#because I don’t get that level of engagement anymore

[duuhrayliegh]

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

#bartender!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader #bucky x peanut #consequences #ray's writing #bartender!bucky barnes x peanut!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky barnes x you #bartender!bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky x you

[mochiwrites]

good morning little people in my phone

#momo rambles #head in hands #woke up feeling a little bit low #that fear of people losing interest in my writing has returned #it’s #ugh #I miss waking up to comments and things sitting in my inbox :< #granted it’s probably because I updated in the Middle of the night #but still :( #I’m really nervous that people are losing interest in my stuff because there’s more interesting mumsc*rian fics now #like a ‘this is old and everyone wants the new stuff’ kind of thing #does that even make sense #who knows #but yeah I’m #wanting to cry in this Wendy’s #it genuinely kills me that I can’t enjoy updating with my friends #because I don’t get that level of engagement anymore #and aaaaaaaaaa #yes I’m writing for myself but I also Am partly writing because I like sharing #and I do enjoy the attention my writing gets #or well… used to get anyway #I’m gonna go back to bed I think

[misguidedasgardian]

Storm's End 3

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, blood, violence, smut on top of a dragon, asphyxia (not severe), kind of choking, moon tea shows up, and other very dark things. 

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.9 k

Notes: Ufff It seems I can’t do one shots anymore, I think this required another third part because I didn’t want to make it so long… anyways… 

Maybe… you’d prefer for Vhagar to have devoured you…

You shook your head at that, you couldn’t think like that, you had to be strong, perhaps tapped into your real father’s force, he was a good man, a strong the, brave, and kind, you had to be like him.

You whimpered when you felt your uncle’s hot hand in your belly, making you lean back until your back was against his chest, you tried to look around, but you barely could see cloud at this time at night

“You are shaking”, he purred against your ear, you barely hummed, your clothes had barely dried, but you were freezing

“I’m cold”, you murmured, he chuckled darkly, making you shake some more

“you’d think that you’d ran hot, like a dragon, and then I remember, you are only a bastard”, he mocked, but you didn’t fight him, you didn’t have the strength, you didn’t care anymore

What if your father was Harwin Strong? he had cared for you, he had protected you and guarded you, consoled you when you cried, cared for you when you were sick or when you fell and hit your hands or knees, he had loved you, you could see it in his beautiful eyes, you missed him, and Ser Laenor didn’t care, he loved you too, he accepted you and called you his, you were a Velaryon. And now Daemon, for everyone he was the fearsome devil, the rogue prince, unreadable, unpredictable, merciless, but for you and you siblings? He was your father, who cared for you, guided you, taught you, he was fearless when it came to defend all of you and your mother, he watched over you all and knew how to give you counsel 

Perhaps he was jealous, you have had three fathers, and he barely had half of one, your grandfather had been sick for so many years, he couldn’t be a good father for Aemond, you thought

“What happened? a dragon took your tongue?”, it was a sick joke, a single tear fell from your eye at the thought of your baby dragon Karnax.

You named him in honor of the first ever dragon that bonded with Aerion, and together with his flames he forged the city of Old Valyria, and created the greatest empire the world had ever seen.

How silly you had been

Perhaps the gods had taken away your dragon for your boldness, who did you think you were?

Aemond grabbed you by the back of your neck, roughly, grabbing your hairs until you cried out

“I like to be answered when I talk to you, bastard”, he grunted, he pretended like he wanted to drag you off of the saddle, into the air and to your certain death and you squealed, grabbing back at his arm

“No! please!”, you whined, “don’t throw me, don’t kill me!”, you begged him

“Why would I kill my new toy? after all the trouble she make go through to get her”

He didn’t release you, but he let you accommodate back in the saddle with shaky hands, grabbing into the rough leather. Vhagar’s flight was steady, thanks to her huge size, it would be enjoyable, if it weren’t for the circumstances that led you here 

“What are you going to do with me?”, you asked in a whisper, he caressed the back of your head and neck, but it wasn’t a soft, loving caress, it was rough, dominant, to show you his power and dominance over you

“I told you what I was going to do to you”

I lied, I’m going to give you my bastard 

“Please uncle, you took my dragon, you draw my blood”, you whimpered, “I payed by brother's debt”

For one second to the other, the skies opened up, and you gasped when you could see Dragonstone far in the horizon.

Aemond grabbed you even tighter

“I will say when it’s payed”, he chuckled darkly, and he pushed you over the handles in his saddle

You whined when he pushed you even lower, grabbed you even tighter, the handle hit you right over your belly, preventing you from breathing properly

You coughed, tears falling down your eyes

He had ripped your riding pants, but you still had your upper part, working like a dress, he raised that, exposing your intimacy, which still burned and ached…

“No please.. AH!”, he impaled you on his cock, dragging you back, letting your weight make him ripped you open even more

It was worse than before, your inner walls were sore, and aching, it felt like he was ripping you open

“No more, please uncle”

Vhagar growled under you as he started thrusting into you, over and over, each time it burnt more, your insides were on fire, every thrust you were out of breath, the handle digging under your ribcage, making you whimper

You couldn’t breathe

And the only thing you could see was Dragonstone, right there…

So close, yet so far 

Aemond leaned into you, grunting in your ear, dropping wet open mouthed kisses in your neck

“Please”, you begged, “no more”

“I’ll say when is enough”, he grunted, “fuck, you are squeezing me so tight”, you didn’t even know how you were doing, perhaps was the fact that you started feeling dizzy because of all  the oxygen you were lacking,a dn that made you clamp down on him.

“please”, you whimpered with the last of your strength, suddenly you didn’t care anymore than your uncle was taking you against your will, the last thing you saw before your eyesight began to tunnel was the stronghold of your family, your own home.

He felt you going slack under his grasp, and that is when he realized you couldn’t breathed, he pulled you back, hugging you tightly against him, and then you managed to get air inside your lungs, gasping greedily 

he kept fucking you, as he had you relaxed in his arms, he held you almost tenderly, making sure you wouldn’t fall off the saddle.

Inside his dark mind, it was true, he wouldn’t want to lose you. he didn’t want to kill you, he wanted to keep you

You were what he deserved

You were just a little bastard, a girl, you should be thankful that he, a prince, was even looking at you, adding in the fact that you and your bastards brothers where pretenders to the Iron Throne, he was just doing his duty, to prove to you how wrong you all were.

He grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him, your eyes were misty, out of focus, your sweet mouth was open, taking short breaths, trying to recuperate yourself, meanwhile he was still pounding into you.

He placed a hand over your belly, drawing you even close to him, and that is when he could draw a moan from you, as a tear fell down your eyes

It was too soon to expect you to feel pleasure… hell, he didn't do this for your pleasure 

He did it for his own 

He felt like you might give in, but you didn’t, more tears fell down, and you whimpered when his cock touched a special spot inside of you, feeling shamed, cold and frightened 

“Please uncle”, you whimpered, grabbing into his hands all over your body, “it wasn’t my fault, I’m sorry”

“Would you rather I go after your brother?”, he asked, you shook your head, “then shut up”, he got angry, throwing you in your belly wasn’t an option anymore, he didn’t want you to asphyxiate, so he pounded into you harder and harder, making you cry out.

He closed his eye, concentrating on the sensations, and he had never felt anything like this, he was fucking the girl he always desired, a girl with no power, no nothing, over the biggest and most powerful dragon in the world.

He ruled the skies, and now he had you.

He tried to get to you the right way, he bit his own tongue and put his tail between his legs and asked your whore of a mother to betrothe you two, he didn’t give a shit about uniting the family and fixing the strained bonds 

He desired you, he desired you so much it made himself hate you, because he believed that you were not worthy of his love, passion and attention

You were a bastard

Like his mother always taught him, and bastards deserved nothing, to inherit nothing, they were born out of sin, and weakened flesh

Two things he despised

Sin and weakness

So he had tot ake you the way he was entitled too

It didn’t help that he hated your brothers

It was not fair

that they were loved, protected, cared for, after everything they had put him trough, they always got away with it…

So he was going to take it all on you

He would give the entire royal treasury to see those bastard’s faces when they realized what he had done to you, their dear, lovely sister

“It hurt, please, uncle, please stop”, your cried made himrealize how hard he was fucking into you, completely lost in his dark thoughts of revenge and desires 

He didn’t want to stop, he grunted and moaned in your ear, he licked the tears of your cheeks, and then, he bit down in your shoulders until he drew blood and you squirmed in his grasp due to the stinging pain

Having you struggling and twisting in his arms, squeezing him like a fist, your little whines and pleas, he cummed inside you, hugging you tightly despite your hands scratching all the skin you could reach, he grunted in your ear filling you with his seed

He was already addicted to you, your unwillingness and your tightness 

he made yo u lean in and looked where your bodies were still intertwined, he discovered, with sick pleasure, that his cock was tainted with your blood still

Now you were ruined, for everyone else

He chuckled at the sight and at your lame lie. that you were betrothed to Cregan Stark 

Well, not anymore, he thought with satisfaction when he heard your cries and whimpers starting again.

“Please”, you whined, and when he looked ahead he could tell why

Dragonstone stood there in all its might.

He grunted, grabbing the reins of Vhagar and made her turn away, if you got to close, they were going to spot you, and could easily attack

“No! please!”, yo grew desperate when you realized you were not going back to Dragonstone

“You think I was just going to drop you there?”, he whispered in your ear, “no, it is not going to be that easy”

‘Please, you got what you wanted”, you whispered, defeated, grabbing into his hand that was still holding you by your belly  

“Not even close”, he whispered darkly, pushing inside your walls again, growing hard only at the thought of your despair

“I want to go home”, you cried

But he didn’t take you home

You arrived at King’s Landing when the sun was rising in the horizon

The Usurper was dragged out of bed, or that is what it looked like when you entered the throne room and Aegon was there, sitting in the Iron Throne lazily, almost snoozing, his clothes where dirty, his hair was in disarray

The sight made you sick 

When he saw who you were, he giggled drawing his head back

“My brother, ever the over-achiever, we send you for a stag and you came back with a little dragon”

The doors opened behind him and you looked back to see Queen Alicent and Otto, who looked back at you wide eyed

“What is the meaning of this?”, demanded Otto

All eyes fell on you, you you only played with your hand looking at the ground

You felt Aemond’s seed dripping out of you, you only managed to squeeze your thighs together and swallow a whimper, praying they couldn’t see it. It was probably just a phantom feeling, but you still felt shame and fear. 

Aegon was looking at you like you were the most amusing thing he had ever seen 

Alicent’s eyes filled with tears, and her mouth twisted in a horrified face

“Aemond…”, she called, it didn’t take a genius to know what had happened between the two, “what did you do?” 

“What I did was find a way for the pretender to surrender, without blood being spilled”, he said out loud, to all of them, he grabbed you by the back of your neck and angry tears fell down your eyes, “we have her daughter, is she doesn’t come here and surrender, we are going to feed her to the dragons”

Aegon’s laugh rang all over the room 

“You already fucked her, didn’t you?”

“Aegon!”, chided Alicent, Aegon giggled again, but she then looked back at her favorite son, with an incredulous look on his face

“You didn’t, didn’t you?”, she asked, fearful.

They all talked like you weren’t even there, and for a time, you enjoyed being invisible

“What does that matter?”, he asked, manhandling you, moving you by your neck like you were some rag doll, “she is a bastard, you said so yourself”, Alicent covered her mouth, horrified

“I never meant for you”

“What my brother did was great”, sentenced Aegon, “you got us Lord Borros, and you got us some entertainment, well. a hostage but, entertaining nonetheless”, he said raising a cup he held by his hand, “we should hold a feast tonight, for my dear brother”

Otto didn’t know what to say, he kept looking at his grandson, and then at you, not really knowing if this was good or bad, but he liked the initiative of his grandson

“Ser Criston, put her in Rhaenyra’s old chambers”, he commanded, and Ser Criston, who had been standing by the gates, walked towards you and grabbed you from Aemond’s grasp and led you off of the throne room

It was painful to be back into your mother’s chambers, you remembered it from your childhood, and now you were alone and sad

But not for long, as Queen alicent showed up in your chambers

She found you sitting in the edge of the bed, and you didn’t stand up, or do anything, you just sat there, looking at her

“Are you comfortable dear?”, she asked shakily, her hand linked together in front of her, that ever present scowl on her face

“I’m sorry for the loss of the King your grace”, that seemed to kind of break her, a single tear fell from her eye and nodded

“Thank you dearest”, she looked around, you could see that she had trouble to face this, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you moved uncomfortable, your core aching, you hissed and she seemed to notice

“Aemond… was always smitten with you”, she said faking a smile, and you looked up at her in surprise and disgust

“What?”, she looked away from you and started pacing. A tear fell from your eye when you realized she was just trying to diminished what had happened, in favor of her son

“Aemond was always a driven young man”, she said, with that nerve-wrenching smile

“What will happen to me?”, you asked in a whisper

“We are still debating the best way to proceed”, she said calmly

“Please your grace, Alicent, I want to go home”, you cried, “I want to go to my mother”, you stood up and grabbed her gently, she seemed shaken up by your outburst, “please”, you begged her, but she shook you away

“Prince Aemond will decide what is to do about you”, she said, recuperating her composure

“No! he is going to rape me again”, you cried, she winced at the word

“I’ll have moon tea brought to your chambers”, she said simply, walking to the exit

“PLEASE! I want to go home!”, she closed the door in your face and you went there and slapped your hand on the hardwood, “please!”, you begged but it fell on deaf ears 

For better or worse, you were left alone until the night fell over in King’s Landing, you were to busy staring at the horizon, in the direction of where Dragonstone was

Were they thinking of you? Were they missing you?

Did they know something happened to you?

Did they believe you died?

Maids brought you food and wine for you to drink and eat, to replenish your strength, and even though you haven’t eaten anything since lunch the day before, you found yourself so nauseous you couldn’t even have a single bite 

You could hear it, all over

There was a feast being celebrated in the Keep, as Aegon promised

A feast to celebrate you being kidnapped, you were a valuable hostage, now they might make your mother surrender.

Would she?

For you?

Would she give up her birthright?

Finally exhaustion got the better of you, and you removed your torn riding gear, to put on the nightshirt the maids had left for you, and you curled up in the bed 

You were exhausted, and you managed to fall into a dreamless sleep

Until you were suddenly awake

Greedy hand grabbed you, fondled you, grope you

You whined, fighting between the realms of dreams and reality

“Fuck, you are still dripping”, it was Aemond, as his fingers tried to pry you open for him, you tried to grab his hand, but you were too weak, and still in a haze

“Uncle”

“Mmm yes”, he purred in your ear, as he got rid of your night dress, you knew what it came next, and you hissed when you felt him entering you. He hugged you tightly, obsessively, grunting in your ear as he started pounding into you

It was of no use to make him stop, you just had to endure it, but it still hurt, it still burn as he cock split you open.

In this position it was tighter for him, and for you, you could tell, you just laid on your side as Aemond took from from behind, hugging you against him so you couldn’t move away from him

“You are my little whore now”, he said, you could smell the wine on his breath, “I’m going to breed you, it is only fair, that a bastard births my bastards”

“I don’t deserve this”, you cried, tears soaking the pillow beneath your head, “I didn’t do anything to you please”

“Didn’t you?”, he mocked

“I loved you”, you confessed, “you were my loving uncle, my friend”, you said sadly

“Not anymore”, he mocked, kissing the side of your face, “I bet you hate me now, don’t you?”, you grabbed into him, sobbing

“No”, you cried, and he chuckled, fucking into you rougher, making you cry out

“Oh you don’t hate me?”, he purred, “aren’t you sweet?”

“Please Aemond”, you whimpered, “I don’t want to have a child”, you cried

“Too late for that”, he teased, “You will give birth to my white-haired children”, he teased, biting on your neck 

He cummed inside of you that night as well, staying there deep inside you until morning

When he was done with you, he released you hastily, you woke up hissing at how uncomfortable you were.

You didn’t even know if it was possible, but you felt  it in your belly still. 

He was getting dressed again, looking back at you with appreciation, it was the first time he saw you truly bare for him. You hair messed up, your tired face, your marked skin

But unbeknownst to you, you looked beautiful and delicious to him 

Until the door was knocked

Aemond answered for you, and he saw it was a made bringing a small tray, in it, only two things, a small tea cup, and a small pitcher

“What the hell is this?”, he asked, mad out of his mind

“T-the Queen send it, your grace”, she said with a nervous stutter

“I didn't asked who send it, I ask what it is”, he almost bit off her head

“Moon tea, your grace”, you jumped in the bed when you saw Aemond grab the small tray and smashed it against the wall, making you and the maid terribly scared 

“get put and if I see you again I’ll flay you alive”

“YES M’LORD”, and she ran out of the chambers, when Aemond turned to you, he find you crying, grabbing into the sheets, covering yourself

“If you drink that filth, you’ll live to regret it”, he threatened, and left the room, with you exhausted and in tears

He erupted in the middle of a meeting of the small council, his grandfather and mother invited him to sit down, his brother wasn’t present, but it was early in the morning, so he didn’t find it strange 

“Daeron will marry one of Lord Borros’ daughters, and you will marry your niece”, said Alicent, not looking at his son, but at the table in front of him, she couldn’t stand the sight of this man she hardly knew, “we will send the terms to Rhaenyra, to stop this nonsense of her taking the throne…”

“Why?”, asked Aemond, bored

“Why? because you dishonored her! Rhaenyra…”

“Will do as we told her if she wants to see her daughter again”, he said, “nothing has to change”

Alicent and Otto shared concerned looks

“The first thing to do is to send word to Rhaenyra that we have her, and she is alive, if she thinks otherwise, they could retaliate”

“I will send a raven to Rhaenyra”, muttered Otto

“Aemond saved the princess”, Alicent said, “he saved her from dying in the treacherous waters of shipwreck bay”, Aemond chuckled darkly

“That’s the story we are going with?”, asked mockingly

“Yes!”, snapped his mother, Aemond only shook his head, amused

“So be it”, he mocked

. . .

Rhaenyra watched the Fellwood woman retreat from the room and she whined in pain, Daemon grabbed her softly, hugging her tightly against him to soothe her

“Everything will be alright”, he muttered gently, Rhaenyra only nodded

“Your grace”, her new appointed Queensguard appeared in the war room, “a letter from King’s Landing”

Rhaenrya didn’t dare to receive the letter, but Daemon did, he opened the small scroll rapidly and angrily, and read it carefully, to finally snort

“THOSE CUNTS!”

“What is it?”, Rhaenyra asked

“They have her”, he whispered, and Rhaenyra drew a sigh of relief, until know she didn't really know if her daughter was alive or not, at least she was, “they claimed that one eye cunt saved her from the seas, and took her to safety”, Rhaenyra chuckled darkly, “they are offering to marry them, and offer the same terms of surrender”

“Or?”, she whispered

“It doesn’t say”, he said back, crumpling the paper in his fist, “What if they give us our daughter back, or we kill them all?”, he grunted with greeted teeth, angry tears leaving her eyes

“We need to tell the boys”, warned Rhaenyra, “we need to ask them to see her, to see if she is alright, then we can set something up”

“You are not giving up your birthright”, he sentenced

“I just want to see her”, she whined, “see if she is alright”

“We will teach them what happens when you mess with our family”, grunted Daemon

taglist!

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00 @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @

#misguidedstorm #misguidedhouse #aemond targaryen x reader #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #aemond #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader

[spacelazarwolf]

y’all i found it, i found the post that originated the claim that i’m a ZionistTM and it’s even more ridiculous than i expected.

��————————————

—————————

this is, of course, the same person who labeled me a MisogynistTM for making a half baked joke reblog basically saying “jewish standards of masculinity are different than white western standards of masculinity” then cited orthodox judaism, a community i’m not a part of, as why Actually The Jewish Community Is Horrifically Misogynistic And Bad (as if i haven’t faced misogyny from jewish cis men before???????)

anyway, my post in this screenshot didn’t once mention israel. it didn’t mention zionism. it was talking about antisemitism. i turned off reblogs because people were making it about zionism and israel, which was derailing my original point. i set a specific boundary and people kept crossing it, so i turned reblogs off and blocked people who wouldn’t leave it alone. absolutely nothing about that could possibly indicate that i’m a zionist unless you think that diaspora jews setting boundaries about being forced into a conversation about israel, especially one where we are essentially being blamed for the antisemitism we face because of the government of a country we don’t even live in and have no control over (there’s a phrase that, it’s called dual loyalty and it’s been getting jews killed for decades) or if you think simply talking about the history of antisemitism and current rising levels of antisemitism is somehow “zionist propaganda” in which case you might want to get your head out of your ass and question why you’re agreeing with literal nazis. also bonus points for this person literally just blatantly blaming jews in the tags for the rise in antisemitism because we’re apparently not being antizionist enough to deserve basic human decency and safety! not even trying to hide it anymore huh!

and of course it worked like a charm bc now, months later, you have people saying this:

“the jew is trying to disguise himself as one of you to trick you!!!!!! he is actually evil and trying to manipulate you to further his evil (((zionist))) plans!!!!!!!!!! beware!!!!!!!!!!!” which is literally just repackaged antisemitic tropes that are centuries old. i’ve never interacted with the person in this screenshot in my entire life, and yet they seem to think they have insider knowledge into my Evil Zionist Plans to infiltrate the community and spread Zionist Propaganda because they interacted with one gentile witch that threw a hissy fit about being told not to be antisemitic in discourse about gentiles appropriating lillith. this gentile decided that every single jew who disagreed with them was a zionist, and when i told them it was antisemitic as fuck to call any jew they disagree with a zionist they went on about me being a “raging zionist” and “faking being queer” for DAYS. so it’s not a mystery where the person in this screenshot got the “ooh scary (((zionist))) pretending to be queer and trans to spread his evil (((zionist))) propaganda” rhetoric from. it’s word-for-word from the gentile witch who was pissed about fucking LILLITH DISCOURSE.

bc the thing is, these ppl don’t actually care if i’m a zionist. if they did, they would be engaging with what i’ve said (which is practically nothing because i knew the second the word israel touched my blog that this would happen — which is why i didn’t want people going on and on about israel on a post about antisemitism). they know that labeling a jew a zionist is an immediate death sentence in progressive circles. they know it’s the easiest way to discredit a jew you don’t like. because it doesn’t matter how many times you say “no, i’m not” you will be forever tainted in the eyes of gentiles by that accusation. that’s why they made the accusation in the first place. and so i will continue to not share any of my thoughts or opinions other than “i’m pro palestinian liberation” and “i’m not a zionist” and people will ignore that to play yet another game of Zionist Telephone to target a jew they don’t like. it’s not the first time it’s happened, to me or in general, and it won’t be the last time. i just hope people seeing this and reading this will help people understand how fucked up and antisemitic it is.

so yeah. if you see accusations floating around that i’m a zionist, this is where it came from. a situation that is textbook dual loyalty, being punished for setting boundaries on my own blog, and people who hate trans men jumping at the chance to demonize one with one of the easiest tricks in the book as soon as they see he’s also jewish. the fact i keep having to address this when the origin of the rumor is literally just antisemitism should heavily inform how seriously you take random claims online that a jew is a zionist. most of the time it’s just blatant antisemitism, and very often it’s a way to silence an unrelated conversation that person was trying to have.

#jewish #jumblr #antisemitism

[qqueenofhades]

Last anon here -- I'm sorry for sending that message through. I don't know what is and isn't true anymore.

I deleted what I presume was your first ask (the one accusing me of not condemning the Gaza genocide and calling me a "DNC shill and a liar") because it was rude, uncalled for, and I couldn't see any good to come of engaging with it. However, because you've returned and apologized and sent this followup, I am willing to answer it, because I am aware that we can all do stupid things (especially on the internet) that we regret. So there is that.

Once again: I have strictly limited my posts/reblogs on this topic because it is so inflammatory, there are reams of people willing to attack you on every side, and none of it is actually constructive (this is the blue hellsite where we have two whole jokes about Ea-Nasir and color theory in children's hospitals. We are not doing important social justice work here and expecting this to be the main/only forum in which we post the Correct Opinions is not going to work out for anyone). But I would like, for the record, to point out that I have condemned the situation in Gaza and explicitly called it a genocide and Netanyahu and co. war criminals. Often and repeatedly:

Ask from October 28, 2023:

What’s happening to the Gazans right now is no qualification or equivocation, a genocide. It should rightfully be opposed and called what it is. But unfortunately, I have spent too much time around Western Online Leftists to believe they actually care a whit about stopping genocide as a fundamental principle, and only want to be seen to loudly care about what their Ideology has told them to care about. [...] To put it bluntly, those genocides are being committed by nation-states that Online Leftists like for being “anti-Western,” and therefore their activities are actually fine and should even need to be defended.

Another post from December 2023 explicitly calling out Netanyahu and his cabinet, while also pointing out that Tumblr's response now mostly consisted of antisemitic dogwhistles and rampant political misinformation:

[...] the way Netanyahu is personally a genocidal maniac with a far-right cabinet of war criminals and is bent on continuing the war in order to escape his own criminal prosecutions (and yes, he is HIGHLY affiliated with Trump and Putin) but this somehow still does not remotely justify or excuse the rampant frothingly mindless and generalized anti-Semitism seen everywhere on leftist spaces these days [....]

An ask from January 10th, 2024 (worth probably reading in full) where I once more say that nobody wants this to be happening, but that once again, the criticism in Western leftist forums (particularly Tumblr/Twitter) is not made equally or in good faith :

Nobody of basic good sense and decency wants to see Gaza leveled while the Israeli state continues to apply a number of violently cruel collective punishments even outside the actual daily bombing of civilians. But for the love of god, let’s get rid of the idea that the continued mindless violence doesn’t benefit Hamas (because it does; unsurprisingly, sympathy for their cause has soared in Gaza) as much as it does Israel, or that Hamas is some kind of benevolent peacemaker that is being thwarted by the cruel imperialist US/West.

This post, also from January 2024, explains why the kind of stunt-trick "pro Palestinian" activism that just relies on publicly hassling Jews is a) antisemitic and b) actively harming the people of Gaza, while once again pointing out whose fault this whole mess actually is:

If these people actually wanted to advocate constructively for Palestine in a good-faith way and not just punish random Jews or people who might have once met a Jew (which they don’t), they would take a look at that, go “hmm, this isn’t really getting the right result” and listen to the people who are telling them that by generating this bad publicity, they are doing far more harm to the cause than good. They are going to make the cause look foolish, they will drive away anyone who isn’t already radicalized, they will shut down any possibility of discussion and dialogue, and their efforts will be picked up in the Israeli nationalist right-wing media/Netanyahu and his war criminal advisors to insist to left-wing or anti-zionist Jews that (one of the, you know, big fucking reasons Israel was founded in the first place) they aren’t safe in any other country in the world, and they need to support the Israeli government’s actions, no matter how heinous.

A follow-up from January 31, 2024, discussing (again) the problems with insisting that Biden personally/the American power apparatus is just giving Israel a blank check and therefore Biden Iz Bad And This is All His Fault:

Once again: I strongly disagree with the idea of just giving Israel/Netanyahu a blank check to keep committing atrocities, but I also need to repeatedly point out that Biden isn’t doing that. His initial unconditional support of Israel after October 7 (which at the time was the correct response) has shifted to a much more measured and conditional approach where he has muted the overtly pro-Israel statements and started talking about a two-state solution and the need to protect the lives of civilians and trying to keep a lid on what could become a REALLY bad situation with all kinds of war-hungry powers eager to jump into the Middle East and blow it completely to hell.

I am a historian. This does not mean that I always know The Greatest Things Ever, but it does mean that I default toward long, cautious, and qualified responses where I try to consider multiple perspectives and nuances, rather than just posting pithy soundbites or black-and-white statements. (Yes, I know; I am doomed on social media.) Thus when I do discuss the situation, I tend toward trying to put it in broader context, to push back sharply against the idea that being "pro Palestine" is just being wildly antisemitic on social media and nothing else, and to call out those bad actors who are using this situation to continue to imperil American democracy and deliberately try to get Trump (who openly hankers to be a genocidal fascist dictator for everyone, not just Israel/Palestine) back into office.

I know that this is a situation which provokes (to say the least) strong emotions from everyone. I know that it's infuriating to feel totally helpless and just to have to watch it from afar. I know that we all wish we could stop it and that leads us to create meaning or assign importance to our own actions where there actually is none. But that does not mean that people have total liberty to spread antisemitic conspiracy theories, wild political misinformation, narratives designed whether unwittingly or deliberately to help Trump and other far-right fascists, and otherwise anonymously dogpile on people who haven't Posted The Correct Opinion on Tumblr (once again, Tumblr, where we get our news via Destiel meme). So I hope this has helped you, if this is what you wanted to get out of contacting me today, and hope also that you'll continue to think about what to do and how to act. It's hard, I know, and you have my sympathy. But so it is for us all.

#anonymous #ask #history #politics for ts #israel hamas war

[zanarkandskylines]

Leave It All Behind

『♡』  fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | aged to 24 | nasty break up ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 

summary: a heated argument, a slammed door, a thrown ring, and two broken hearts. everything changed in the blink of an eye when you decide to blow up your whole life over a change of scenery. tags & warnings: violence against a partner, angst, no happy ending, bakugo cries a lot a/n: this physically pained me to write because I don’t wanna make Katsuki cry like that but the angst just came flooding out of my brain 😭 ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,175 ꒱

“I quit.”

Katsuki drops the mug in his hand, ceramic pieces and lukewarm tea splattering all over the kitchen floor.

“What?!” His voice is amplified, preparing for the argument he knows is brewing.

“I said ‘I quit.’ I left the agency today.” Your tone is cold as you cross your arms and shift on your hip.

Katsuki blinked repeatedly and scrunched his brows together, wondering if he somehow jumped into a different reality.

“We fuckin’ talked about this! I thought-”

“What? You thought you could order me around like a goddamn dog?!” You snap, waving your hands around in defense.

“No! Where th’ fuck is this coming from?”

Katsuki is legitimately bewildered. You just had the conversation last night and came to the conclusion you were not going to quit being a hero - all of that just flew out the window at mach speed.

“I decided myself I didn’t need the number two hero ordering me around, acting like I’m gonna sneak up and take your fucking job!” The anger inside you is boiling hot, your voice raised to match Katsuki’s volume.

“Th’ fu…I don’t think that! I’ve been by your side since day fuckin’ one! Where the hell is this coming from, y/n?!”

You take a step toward him, purposefully invading his space to get under his skin. He hated when you’d do this during a fight.

“I’m tired of it all, Katsuki! What the hell is the point?! Heroes are used as punching bags! We’re fucking humans and we are treated like pawns in a goddamn game. I’m tired of being a symbol of something I don’t believe in anymore.”

Katsuki takes a step back, bumping into the countertop as his expression shifts from anger to concern.

“Baby, let’s take a step -,” he attempts to say to lower the level of tension in the room.

“Don’t fucking call me baby,” you snarl, pointing a finger in his face.

What the fuck is happening between you two?

“Fine. Y/N, let’s take a second-”

The sound of a slap echos in the kitchen, cutting through the conversation and stopping time itself. You’re breathing heavily, a fire burning in your heart as you glare at your finance. Katsuki’s stunned, his cheek reddening from your strike. He doesn’t turn back to meet your gaze, hopelessly refusing to accept what just happened.

“Shut the fuck up. I’ve made up my damn mind.”

“…did that make you feel better?” He mumbles, voice wavering as he swallows hard.

The final string inside you snaps - a cable becoming frayed, flailing wildly out of control with electric emotion.

You shove him against the counter and spin on your heel, stomping out of the kitchen. A piece of the broken mug in your path catches your bare foot - you don’t even acknowledge the pain of the pottery slicing through your skin.

Katsuki is frozen, he’s astonished and cannot even form words to say to you right now. Who the hell was this? Where did his beloved fiancé go?

“I’m done. I’m fucking done!” You scream, returning to the kitchen from the bedroom. You’re holding your engagement ring in your hand.

Katsuki’s heart turns to concrete and drops into the pit of his stomach.

“W-wait, y/n, please…just wait a s-second,” he begs with trembling hands. “Don’t do this.”

You chuck the ring straight into his chest, bouncing off his shirt and clattering onto the kitchen tile. He audibly gasps, watching as the ring rolls into a puddle of the spilled tea.

Katsuki’s blood runs cold. Is this real? This had to be a nightmare, a really fucking terrible nightmare. There’s no way his sweet hero of a partner was standing in front of him. You had to have been cloned and this is an imposter.

“I. Am. Fucking. Done. Fuck you, Katsuki Bakugo. Have a good fuckin’ life.”

Katsuki scrambles to grasp your hand as you turn your back to him.

“Please, stop this! I can’t lose you, y/n!” He blubbers, unable to stop the hot tears spilling from his eyes. His voice cracks as he’s calling after you. “I’m s-sorry! Whatever it is, I’m fuckin’ sorry. We can talk about it. Whatever is happening, we can fix it. We can forget this whole conversation happened!”

You smack his hand away from yours and the sting is sent straight to his bleeding heart.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve made up my mind.”

You don’t have time to pack anything, nor do you have time to explain yourself. There’s nothing you can do - no turning back now. The plan is in motion and there’s no putting on the brakes.

Reaching into your pocket, you take your phone out and smash it against the floor. Pieces of glass and small electronic parts scatter in all directions. The phone remains powered on as it bounces on the floor, a glimpse of your lock screen visible to Katsuki. It’s a picture from your engagement photo shoot - the phone screen split directly in between the two of you.

“Sell all my shit, I don’t want it. Never, ever, contact me again.”

He’s hysterical at this point, sobbing and a whimpering where he stands.

“Who th’fuck are you?! Where’s this 180 comin’ from?!”

Katsuki’s desperate for any answer, he doesn’t care if it gets you to stay.

“I’m tired of playing hero when my true allegiance lies with the villains.”

That’s the last thing you say before hastily making your way to the door. Hand on the doorknob, you take a final moment to say goodbye to everything you’re leaving behind - the love of your life, your career, friends and family. All of it is burning to the ground.

Katsuki bolts to the door, slamming his hand onto the wood to stop you from leaving. He’s panicking as his whole life is crumbling in front of his eyes.

“Please. Y/N. Y’don’t have to stay with me. But for fucks sake, is this worth throwing everything away? How could you do this!? What do I tell your parents, our friends?!”

You say nothing as you yank the door open, forcing his hand off the frame. You don’t make eye contact as you pull the door closed, jogging down the apartment hallway.

You know for a fact if you stayed for any amount of time longer, you would have crumbled. Taken it all back and refuse to leave, walk the path of a happy and healthy life.

“There you are. I was about to go knock on your door to get you, silly!” Toga says cheerfully, taking your arm in hers. “Ready to go?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The walk down the sidewalk is the hardest road you’ve traveled, not looking back at all the damage you’re leaving behind.

The new generation of the league of villains welcomes you with open arms and cannot wait for all of your inside intel on hero society.

It’s about time you make a change in this world - your way.

I have an extended idea to build off of this short where villain reader meets pro hero bakugo again in the future but we’ll see if it ever comes to fruition

#bakugo katsuki #bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo angst #katsuki bakugo #angst with no happy ending #☆.rei writes

[sokkastyles]

I hope you don’t mind me sending in asks every so often, because I really love your blog and I like reading your opinions/analyses of ATLA’s story and characters. What I want to talk about is this one trope in fiction that I’ve always liked and wanted to see more of, which is “Person A sees characteristics of Person B’s personality or abilities that are kind of morally dubious or complicated and possibly less than desirable (depends on what the ability or personality trait is) and even though Person B has complicated feelings about what they saw, they never flinch or look away from who Person A is.” Because I’m obsessing over Zutara again, this made me think of the scene where Zuko sees Katara bloodbend for the first time and while he is momentarily surprised, his facial expression goes back to normal quickly. Something similar happens when he sees her waterbend while confronting Yon Rha. I really wish we had gotten a scene where Zuko and Katara actually talk about her blood bending abilities, though the main reason I wanted this isn’t only because of the potential for another Zutara moment. I also really wish the narrative had utilized bloodbending more and that we had gotten to see more of Katara’s complicated, ambiguous feelings about bloodbending (and yes I know she didn’t like bloodbending in canon, but I wish we got to see her be a bit curious about it or not knowing how to feel about it before she decided that). What are your thoughts about this? Is there anything about Katara’s bloodbending that you wanted to see explored in the narrative as well?

First of all, I love getting your asks! They are always very well thought out and insightful! I think you sent me another one that I didn't get a chance to respond to yet because I have been very busy, but I'm not tired of getting asks from you at all!

And I do think an underrated aspect of Zuko witnessing Katara bloodbend is that it's validating to him as an abuse survivor, as a fellow child of war who also lost his mother, as someone who deals with anger issues, to see Katara bloodbend and be able to control her bloodbendinng in that moment.

I do not think that Zuko was intentionally living his revenge fantasies through Katara or encouraging her to commit violence. We've actually seen both Jet and Hama try to do that to Katara and there are some distinct differences. If you recall the way Jet and Hama talk about their actions, and the way they try to get Katara to also do those things, they appeal to her with specific language. They appeal to her anger, specifically, telling her to think about what happened to her mother. They take joy in assuming that she is just like them and has sunk to their level.

When Zuko talks with Katara about Kya, he does not focus on her anger and loss and the need for revenge. Instead, he tells her that Kya was brave. When he sees himself in Katara, he doesn't see negative. He sees someone who is angry, yes, but also someone who isn't controlled by that anger.

Part of the problem with the way antis talk about this episode and Zuko or Katara specifically is this pathologizing around whatever "fantasy" they think Zuko or Katara might be engaging in. And let's be real for a second. It is actually incredibly common for abused children to have revenge fantasies about their abusers. Like, incredibly common. But it's something that is not talked about very often because we don't like to think about it. When it is talked about, it is usually in terms of the person becoming violent themselves.

I do think that Zuko wanted for Katara the same thing he got with his father, the chance to confront him and to walk away, to not be goaded into violence or sink to that level. But that doesn't mean it isn't also incredibly validating for Zuko to not only watch Katara have power over this man, but to be able to exert enough control over that power to be able to walk away.

Which is similar to what Zuko does with his father. Zuko doesn't want to be angry anymore, but that doesn't mean he suddenly becomes a doormat. And when he faced his father, he was prepared to fight if he had to. He brought his swords, he redirected lightning right at Ozai's feet. He made it clear that he could have hurt Ozai if he had wanted to. But he has enough control over that anger not to. Directionless anger is ultimately similar to intrusive thoughts of revenge, because both make the person feel helpless and out of control.

Also my piping hot take is that Aang was afraid of Katara's anger because he himself never learned to control the Avatar state, whoops.

Anyway, I love that Zuko has that moment when he maybe sees a bit of his old self, the part of himself that was angry and wanted to hurt people because he was hurt, in Katara, and it surprises him. But now he's wise enough to have compassion for himself, and for her by extension, and understands now that that anger comes from grief.

#zuko #katara #zutara #the southern raiders

[nyikondlovu]

Chefs Kiss (Sydcarmy) fans stay with me, Chefs!

I’m not taking anything Ayo, Jeremy and Christopher say against sydcarmy, aka Chefs Kiss, seriously.

They purposefully kept Carmen and Sydney as separate as possible this season, which is a big mistake in my opinion.

The show is about the characters and their relationships with each other. Food is a part of it, but it’s mostly the relationship each character has with one another that makes the show.

The writers trying to dispel the rumours by keeping what I would call our male and female leads apart is nuts because Jeremy and Ayo play so well off of each other but by separating them Jeremy gave his weakest acting (which is still very good) during Carmy/Claire scenes?

They keep saying The Bear doesn’t need romance then give Carmen a whole relationship that was so boring to watch for like 7 episodes and felt like watching paint dry because Claire isn’t engaging.

I’m expected to care about her, what she supposedly means to Carmen and hear about how great she is but don’t get to see it? She’s an ER resident for gods sake and she’s running around town giggling every 5 minutes without a semblance of the hard work and exhaustion that comes with being a doctor.

And for the reason stated above, I believe she’s a manic pixie dream girl. She’s there to change Carmen’s view on life, be different and quirky and the one who got away when in reality Carmy forgot who she was and had to be reminded which took him a whole 5 seconds to remember the supposed love of his life, purposefully gives her the wrong number and she says “You’re the Bear, of course I remember.”

No one was gonna take her seriously as the person to keep up with Carmy and help keep him sane.

Meanwhile Sydney does. She anchors him, she keeps up with him and she calls him out on his shit. Sydney isn’t perfect. She’s terrible at stating what she needs at that moment, she slightly short tempered and she is passive aggressive.

She also is working on her impatience and passive aggression. She eventually tells Carmy she needs his attention as her partner. She speaks up for herself to her dad and she’s not letting her ambition be treated like a bad thing anymore.

Carmen and Sydney would make sense because they are flawed. Carmy stops going to group therapy as soon as he starts dating Claire because she’s ‘fixed’ him and they don’t work because of that.

Sydney has ‘levelled up’ in her professional life, she’s more assertive and willing to listen and has just grown as a person and that type of continuous strive for self growth is what Carmen needs to see in order to do the same HIMSELF.

Sydney isn’t there to fix Carmy, she’s someone who he can grow alongside.

Claire was used as a kids bandaid to a gaping wound; the wound being Michael. Claire represents a life where Mikey was alive and Carm’s fucked up family was as whole and happy as it’s gonna be. She represents the past and everyone PUSHED him to want to date her in the past.

There is too much between our two chefs for simply business partners:

S1 shows Carmen scrubbing the floor of the restaurant when in turmoil while Sydney does the same in S2;

She’s spliced into the montage of Carmy and Claire as though she’s a silent part of their relationship;

She has the three dagger heart tattoo which typically represents romantic heartbreak and turbulence;

Carmen remembers her interest in his whites from three months prior even though she didn’t say anything and gets her her own custom whites;

The imagery from their conversation under the table? Him asking her to screw the other side and “say more, please” as he holds up the table (and Sydney) while she finally shares her fears;

“You’re not alone.” “Neither are you.”;

The memories of Sydney being what calms him from his panic attack;

During said panic attack, the song that was Claire and Carmen’s plays in reverse and any flashes of her are accompanied by memories of his dysfunctional family while the moment he thinks of Sydney? The song starts playing correctly. He calms and flashes of his family (and Claire) disappear;

Them constantly cooling an argument with the ‘I’m sorry’ gesture;

Him constantly being in tune with her emotions and body language.

Sydney represents a new beginning. The chance to build a healthy family with the staff of The Bear, Sydney, Natalie and Richie. She represents a future. She represents good change.

I’m fully convinced Ayo and Jeremy are just doing what all actors do with a ship that’s not yet canon: downplaying or dismissing it.

C’mon if you’ve been in The High School Musical The Musical The Series fandom and shipped Rina from the beginning, you know how it feels to be persecuted and gaslit by other fans and the actors for seasons.

TL:DR, Chefs Kiss is literally a super slow burn and no one of the team will confirm it until it actually happens.

Also, never let your girlfriend (Claire) stop you (Carmen) from opening a restaurant with the love of your life (Sydney)

And if you think they should “stay platonic”, ask yourself WHY every swirl ship with a white male lead and black female is hated by fandoms and the argument is “they’re best friends” or “they’re like siblings”. WHY can’t black women be desired? Because you can’t self insert? Check yourself before claiming a character who was so underwhelming I skipped so many scenes is a better match than the character who has seen him at his worst and told him he cannot and will not talk to her like that. The first person he thought to open a restaurant, that means so much to him, with

#sydney x carmy #syd x carmy #carmen x sydney #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear #claire the bear #the bear s2 #the bear fx #the bear hulu #chefs kiss #I’ve seen this film before #I never lose with my ships #trust me #y’all platonic bitches so transparent you might as well be a window #the category is: hating when black women are in the spotlight #fandom racism #different fandom same shit

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not reconnecting with my brother?

I (21x) have a really complicated relationship with my brother (18m), not helped by the fact we both live with our mom right now. He’s had a really hard time in his life, with having anger issues, ADHD, what we both suspect is NPD, and our family being. Dysfunctional at best and neglectful/borderline emotionally abusive at worse. We both know that our family wasn’t particularly good for us, but we have pretty different approaches on how to deal with it/how we feel like it’s effected us.

This is where some of my (100% AH) behavior comes in- I was incredibly cruel to him as a young teen (12ish) and basically belittled him and pushed him away at every opportunity. We used to be intense but loving with each other and I feel like I took that and made him feel like he couldn’t love or trust me (which he’s told me himself multiple times). I know I failed him as an older sibling and I hold so much regret and shame for not nurturing him into all the good he held (and still does).

Where it gets rocky is our current relationship. I hate to say this and I’ve never said it to his face, but I feel like the roles have completely swapped. He talks over and down to me, gets incredibly upset when I won’t drop everything for him (I won’t get into it bc this would turn into a long vent but he once got legitimately mad at me for days for not giving up my bed and bedroom for him out of nowhere because he didn’t want to be in his anymore). He’s called me every cruel name under the sun, and when I fight back or our fights get ugly, he reminds me it’s all my fault he’s like this because I ruined our relationship. I’ve tried to heal from my own separate trauma and mend our family situation but whenever I talk to him it’s like I regress into a fawning doormat who never challenges the way he absolutely steps over me and puts me down (my friends have talked to me about this and have come down a lot harsher than me, so I’m borrowing their words because I can’t let go of the fact he’s not. Wrong to be this upset with me- I’m a victim of emotional abuse in my own right and I know how it feels to be wrapped in fear and hate and don’t hold it against him that he’s been hurt by me).

I’ve wanted to be a better sibling for a long time, and since about 16 I’ve made a conscious effort to shelf my pent up resentment and hurt emotions to try to always understand him and give him space to be upset, plus always taking the step to reconcile and apologize for my part to play in arguments. I refuse to call him any of the horrible names I used to (bare minimum I know, but I’ve really worked to diffuse that anger and make sure everything I say isnt an attack on him personally and only ever touches oh his current actions) and I try every diffusing move in the book with only framing my feeling as mine and not reflective of who he is and how I want to know his feelings so we can work to understand each other and move past the proboem. But he still treats me like an unstable, untrustworthy bitch who “emotionally manipulates him” by breaking down crying when he calls me names and tells me I’m stupid and he’s above my level of intellectual thought and rationale (I wish I was joking but he has directly said this, almost word for word).

I’m at a big crossroads. I want to keep trying to show him I love him and want him in my life, but it feels like he’s given up on me. If he truly has, I think I have to accept it as part of my failures and shames, but he also tells me he wishes I spent more time with him and that he wants to have a relationship with me. AITA for trying not to engage with him anymore? I want to support him but when he treats me badly if makes me regress into anger and like I’m just digging myself deeper and I’m never going to be good enough to be part of his life. I don’t know what to do with myself and how to live around him when a conversation as small as asking him to do the dishes turns into him berating me for being a nagging stupid asshole.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[stormoflina]

Regarding szobo and Trent’s friendship. I think it’s one of those situations when u are an introvert person and friendship dies down. Not saying they not friends anymore obviously are. However, compare his friendships with other people like Jude he publicly shows support to Jude and Jude does the same if not more to trent tbh😂 he comments on every single Trent’s post. Trent doesn’t mind being seen on camera with Jude hence england content and story reposts . Where as Trent doesn’t like szoboszlai posts anymore for long time or comment in months either. I know Jude trent are a lot closer friendship wise but I think Trent did see comments and now you can tell he doesn’t like being seen on camera with szobo anymore even when szobo tries so hard to walk with him/grab his attention Trent ignores it and doesn’t want to be in same picture frames either or in training too he always purposely makes sure he isn’t. I don’t think they are as close as some think they are in my opinion anymore. Like Trent publicly shows so much love to ramsdale madders Jude hendo ect where as with szobo he hasn’t since September

Ngl, reading this kinda broke my DomiTrent heart 💔

I will have to disagree on the part where you say Trent purposely tries to avoid being seen with Domi on camera / avoids him. If you look at the fancams and bts stuff, they are still very much glued together. Trent seems image- conscious, but I don't think to this level. Yeah, he's an introvert, but he also seems like a kind, nice person, so I don't think he would do this.

It's also important to highlight that obviously Trent is going to be different with all the people you have listed. They have known each other for years and are national teammates. That's such a significant part, sharing the same nationality, speaking the same language, having been brought up in the same culture. Domi is also very different, much more relaxed around his national teammates. We joke around a lot about how he is being a "beg" around Trent, because to the naked (and DomiTrent focused,lol) eye he's totally acting like that, but , okay hold on.

I think I'm about to get a bit defensive here 😭

So Trent's mother tongue being English, him still in his boyhood club, playing for England, those are such huge advantages that players like Dominik will never get. I think it just doesn't show, because he speaks fine English and moves around like a very, naturally confident person. But still, to someone who has followed the Hungarian NT for years, he is almost weirdly """"shy"""" in some of the lfc content. You can tell English is his least strongest language and that he knows he is basically a little nobody in Liverpool.

Okay, Hungarian tax over lol. So, I think if any of the 'they are being forcefully separated' stuff is true, in any shape or form, it's probably only the sm team making a choice to not throw them under the bus for engagement basically. They obviously get along well, most likely not life-long besties, they have only known each other for like what, 6 months? But I like seeing them together, and especially with comments like the one, where Dominik said he often feels lonely moving to England, then saying how Trent was the first one to ask him out to hang out? That's so sweet!

Sorry for the long answer, I think I just really feel for Dominik in this scenario you raised, because he is even posting his dog, who technically is not even his dog anymore, so I just feel bad for him 😭

#dominik szoboszlai #trent alexander arnold #domitrent

[helluva-dump]

At this point, the hazbin/helluva critical community has fallen flat. And when I say that, I mean that it lacks potential. Like, I thought we were criticizing about the characters and the show itself. I thought we were talking about it's issues and what Viv could approve on it. But now, these people are just targeting fans of Viv's show who are just going on about their day, taking screenshots of harmful posts and posting it on the critical blog just to shit on them. You can't even consider that "critical" now when you're just being an asshole. They wonder why Viv and her fans think the critics are so bad. On top of that, these people love to make assumptions about Viv harassing Gooseworx all because she's a "terrible person" like please stfu. "She probably did this" and they don't even have any proof. Maybe consider that Viv actually enjoys tadc and it's success? What is all of this "viv is mad because the amazing digital circus is more successful than her shitty shows"? I dunno, man. That critical community is just so fucking dumb and stupid. They're not even talking about the shows anymore. They just bitch and fuss about everything.

For real, I had never seen such a critical community this much of a train wreck as the fandom is.

I mean hell, I engaged with the SVTFOE community before (and that show has the EXACT same problems as Helluva boss) and the critical blogs were very chill.

I feel like what didn’t help is how immature and unprofessional Vivziepop acts publicly. But at the same time…. I can’t really blame her for getting defensive when these antis dogpile her on everything.

And yes, the screenshots making fun of harmless posts of fans were red flags to me. Like dude, we have rabid fans and Stans do that to us, why the hell are you stopping to their level??? (I’m not gonna include the voodoo controversy because that to me needed to be talked about. A lot of POC fans and criticals had every right to discuss that and Viv should had given an apology or explanation over that. With closed religions that always got stereotypes due to colonizers, you need to be careful when writing about them. )

Oh God don’t get me started on the whole Vivziepop and Gooseworks relationship assumptions… that actually annoyed me too and I’m sure there’s no bad blood with them. I get she had bad blood with Tracey and possibly Ashley, but I don’t think it’s fair to assume she’s like this with every indie creator.

Honestly, its both of their fandoms that are acting unhinged. But I even seen hardcore fans of Viv like Dani praising TADC and Gooseworks, so I doubt the whole fandom are planning to sabotage them. TADC isn’t a rain full of sunshine either, they too have so much bad apples there.

Also my big issue with this community I’ve noted some critical blogs that claim they wanna make an original series (well one already made a webcomic) but they NEVER stop bitching about Viv and go on and on how they never do this to their project… unmmm dude? If you constantly compare your project to Viv’s, your gonna lose your audience this way. This can make you come off as an a logger and a very petty person to others. Trust me, this is NOT going to make people want to be interested in your original projects.

It’s also very unprofessional to do this publicly. I get looking at bad writing motivates you how to not to things… but the constant comparing is going to make you look like a very petty person to your outside audience. And they feel like your project won’t have agency on its own without being “better than Helluva/Hazbin.” I say this because I too am working on an indie project I want to make to a webcomic. And I REALLY don’t wanna ruin my reputation that way.

That’s what Zeartist did when he made his shitty ass books and would constantly hitch and whine about twilight on his life journals. And he would always bring up his original series and how it’s “better” and how he wouldn’t write such garbage like Stephanie Meyer.

And guess what???? His books are just twilight 2.0 but even worse 😂😂😂 he ended up doing the exact same thing stephanie did, bitches out over criticism, and yeah a huge hypocritical asshat.

That’s why constantly comparing your project to another person’s to seen as better is NOT a smart idea. Please have some self awareness there if your actually planning to make a webcomic or an original series.

Also… I’ve noticed people that have beautiful startled would waste it on blind hatred. Like that “I HAtE VIVZIEPOP” blog. Like godamn, their art is beautiful but they had an unhealthy hate obsession with Viv… why waste your energy on that when you can make something better?

I’m not talking about rewrites, AUs, or redesigns because to me those are like fanfics and for fun. The stuff I do is mainly just for fanfic fun and a writing/world building exercise for me. But also a little bit of self indulgence since I sitll admire Viv’s characters. You can enjoy something without giving your support to the actual creator. I’m trying to show my support to the team behind it.

(I’m even planning to buy fan merch from one of the clean up artists on their shop. To me it’s the ethical way of getting Hazbin/Helluva merch without directly giving it to Viv but to her artists instead. )

#helluva boss critical #Hazbin hotel critical #have some self awareness yall #anon ask #ask

[angelhusbandry]

[primal fear 1996 ending spoilers]

been thinking about primal fear a lot again lately and it’s led me to think about the way people engage with it online and the most fascinating phenomenon to me is people who like it but hate the ending because i get where they’re coming from! when i first watched it, i identified a lot with aaron, and the ending twist made me suddenly very uncomfortable! but i took some time to analyze that discomfort and guys, i think it’s genius.

like: by the time you get to the twist you know the score. and like veneable said, she would’ve done it too! anyone would’ve done it! the twist isn’t that aaron did or didn’t do it — once we get to roy we know on some level he did — but the twist is that he didn’t feel bad about it. and he doesn’t need to! aaron stampler is a “villain” because he is not a sympathetic enough victim anymore. he had something bad happen to him and he responded. he’s able to construct himself as the perfect victim, something vail both pities and is all too ready to exploit (trying to “draw out” roy etc) and vail is shattered because he was tricked. because he supported someone who should’ve been supported, but wouldn’t have if he knew was more complicated than the easy, digestible version of a victim he was willing to support

when people make “aaron actually has DID” or “roy is real” aus so he can be demure and happy and vail can be his dad you are continuing the thought that caused aaron to do what he did, that aaron would’ve needed to be helpless, unaware, more pitiable to have been worth sympathy. but he’s not! he’s not a necessarily good person. and i have a great sympathy and love for him because of that, not despite that. what he did is material, and that’s what makes it defensible, not how he thought of it or his true personal feelings behind it. i can relate more to a “bad victim” than i can to the fake version of aaron stampler that he created to force people who don’t actually care about victims to accept due to a complete lack of complexity. but he’s a complex guy. and i love that for him ❤️

#does this make sense… i’m literally about to see a movie in theatre so this is just an off the top of my head screed #i do think u can make the argument the movie frames him as Evil but i don’t think that makes the ending less good #and also i think it’s the way vail feels so it works for me #primal fear #aaron stampler #primal fear spoilers #my post #EDIT: someone decided this was vauging them so i feel compelled to add it’s not. i’m not involved with fandom like that i don’t know you ppl #being into fanon or aus or whatever is fine but it’s not the people i post for cause i don’t like that stuff very much #this is a make ocs or directly interpret the text zone

[misguidedasgardian]

Storm's End (End 2)

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, fear of commiting s*icide, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, blood, violence, war and death, Kinslaying, death in childbirth, dark things related to childbearing, and other very dark things. mIght miss some warnings

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4,2 k

Notes: Alright people, this is it! the END, no more, please I beg of you, this was supposed to be a two shot! No more…

It's been two weeks since he cuddled you to sleep that night 

Since you confessed to him that you didn’t hate him, that the only thing you wanted was to get back in time and spare you all that hate as well

He acted more kindly to you, gentler, he still had you everytime he could, but at least he made sure to prepare you, to even make sure you don’t hurt while he was bedding you 

But it was too late

It was too late, he had hurt you in an irreparable way

You barely spoke, you barely looked at him, no matter how he tried to coax words out of you

it was true, you did not hate him, but you were destroyed, physically, mentally

You didn’t understood it, what was happening to you

You always thought of yourself as this calm, reserved person, you made sure never to harm or annoy someone, to make sure to present yourself as best as you could, as nicer as you could… people around you cared for you, respected you, you could tell, your family adored you… you were a good person

You didn’t understand why you were being punished with so much hurt and hate

Your own body… felt so foreign to you…

Before, you felt like you were in control, like you were one in all aspects of yourself, now… you barely wanted to move… you felt every breath you took, and even moving posed a challenge, like you had to command every movement of your body… like it didn't belonged to you anymore, you yourself were just floating inside this unknown vessel, who belonged to…

Him

And you didn’t even wanted to move in the first place

You often laid on the bed, not being able to move, sitting so still, you believed that if you did so, stood so still, Aemond wouldn’t see you, wouldn’t hurt you anymore, would forget you exist.

You felt like by only moving, you were going to make him hurt you

You offended him by only existing, by breathing, so when he entered the room, you barely did so…

He would see it, the state you were in, he chose to ignore it, and only spend time in the chambers like they were his own, he would read by the fire, he would sip wine and eat with you as well…

He couldn’t tell, but you would throw up everything you ate

Maybe that is why it was so hard for you to move…

Because you had no energy

One afternoon he came in the room, unannounced, like always, he stopped by the bed, looking down at you

“Are you with child?”, he asked severely, you looked up at im

You also knew he did not liked it when you didn’t answer

“I don’t know”, you answered truthfully

How would you know? you did felt “different”, but it was such a difficult and different circumstances, you couldn’t be sure if the “changes” you were feeling was because your uncle’s seed had taken root in your womb… or because of the estres

He sighed, loudly

“I’ll fetch a maester”

This wasn’t the first time the old man examined you in such an intimate way it made your eye spilled silent tears, but again, you felt so out of your body, you were starting to become indifferent to whatever was happening to you

“He is not with child my prince”, the old man breathed finally, and you didn't know how to feel

If you were with child perhaps Aemond would be satisfied, and would leave you alone, his purpose of humiliate you in the ultimate way would be fulfilled

On the other hand, having a child terrified you to your core

Having a baby… growing it in your belly….

Birthing it… you were there with your mom the day she lost your baby sister, and you were so horrified… maybe you’d die in labor, and the thought, of your child, being raised by the greens, frighten even more

If they even decided to raise them, knowing them, they would throw your babe into the depths of Flea Bottom with the rest of Aegon’s bastards…

That “silly” imaginary scenario made you cry, real tears, all the possibilities were terrifying, now even more so because Aemond was going to keep bedding you until he got what he wanted

You didn’t even know what he wanted anymore

“What is wrong with her?”, he asked coldly, the old made made a weird face, and Aemond grabbed him and took him out of the room, so they could speak without you hearing them

Speaking of your body, out of your earshot

Yet another proof, that your body didn’t belonged to you anymore 

“She is dehydrated, stressed, and she hasn't been eating my prince…”, you heard the old man say, “women are delicate, they need optimal conditions so they can breed…”, you felt like… something else 

“Get out, don’t tell anyone”

Aemond didn’t know the maester’s loyalties lay somewhere else.

He returned to you, and he communicated to you he was going to be send away to Harrenhal, to sort some political matters, and you should do well in using this time to rest, eat, and drink whatever you liked

Of course there was a hidden threat, so he bed you one last… long time, and when the sun broke the next morning, he was gone

Alicent had become frightened by her own son

She thought she knew his heart, but oh how wrong she was

She saw a side of him that scared her more than the drunk side of Aegon

A possessive side, dark side… 

A side that was capable of killing, raping

That poor girl

Rhaenyra’s daughter, she involuntarily whimpered every time she thought about the only daughter of her childhood companion

Alicent was scared of her own son

And this was going to get out of hand if she didn't do something 

The summit was barely a few weeks from now, and she had no idea how to remove his son’s claws from you

And she knew that if it came between getting back his father or keeping you, his father was going to be lost forever, especially since the maester had come to her the day before and told her that you were with child, and as instructed, he had lied to the Prince.

He couldn’t find out…

So gathering the last of her bravery and strength, and with the help of Larys, she… had you taken, in the middle of the night when she knew Aemond was away in Harrenhal, securing the castle before the summit 

She exchanged correspondence with Rhaenyra before hand of course

And exchanged you both, before the summit

It was a dark night without moon when you were dragged out of bed and walked amongst the secret passageways of the Red Keep to the docks of King’s Landing 

You should have been relieved, but you weren’t, you were frightened, because clearly Aemond hadn't agreed to this, you knew his anger and his rage, and you were scared of what he might be capable of, especially after he had told you that might just someday appear in Dragonstone and burn the castle  to the ground and everyone on it…

But like you yourself said, it was better one week back in your family’s arms, than years with him.

“Aemond…”, you started, “It’s going to be angry”, you whined

“Let me handle my son”, snapped Alicent, as she herself grabbed you and dragged you through the moldy passageways of inside the Keep 

“I must try again and beg you to convince your mother to see reason, that is why I’m releasing you”, Alicent said as you were about to jump on the small boat that was going to get you to the ship

“Please see that Aemond…”, she nodded shortly, but you and her knew very well than there was nothing she could do

The control over dragons was an illusion, they were savage beats, unpredictable and destructive.

As you were sailing back to your home, passing by another vessel, you couldn’t find it in your broken heart to be relieved, you felt like this was making things worse

Much more worse

You were the last chain containing the wrath of the biggest and most powerful dragon in the world

And it just snapped 

And it couldn’t be that easy, just slipping away, going back home…

But as you saw the black castle in the distance, that is when you felt it, the relief, the happiness 

You were home

For a week, a moon or years, it did not matter, you were home

Before you knew it, you were walking slowly up the huge stone bridge connecting the castle with the rest of the island, and then… there they were

Your entire family was waiting for you a bit unfitting for a Queen, a King consort, and princes and princesses, but they clearly did not care as you mother ran towards you, embracing you tightly as soon as she had you within her grasp

“MAMA”, you sobbed into her neck

Her touch, her smell… it brought you back to life, it brought your soul back into your body

“My baby girl, my sweet, my love, my heart, you are home”, you could tell she was also crying as she held you in her arms

You could no longer stand, your legs failed you, but she had you, she was a strong woman, so so strong.

You couldn’t remember much after that

You just collapsed 

You woke up feeling… uncomfortable, a sharp pain between your legs

You whined and tried to get rid of said intrusion, that is when you came back to your senses, the maester, the dragonstone maester, released you with with a concerned face

“She is with child your grace”, you felt your mother’s crying, and dark promises from your Stepfather to… “kill the one-eyed bastard”

You pushed the maester away, and he only nodded

Your mother’s attention was back to you, smiling

“My love”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want anyone touching me”, you whispered, she nodded

“You don’t have to be sorry”, she said simply, she sat by your side, a single tear fell from her eye

“I’m fine”, you assured her, “just a little broken, but aside from it all, I’m home”, she barely smiled and nodded 

“Your brothers want to see you”, she said softly, Daemon stood there, looking down at you in pity, didn’t say anything, didn’t approached you, but you preferred it that way

“I’d like to see them too”, you said, standing from the bed, you had noticed they dressed you in a simple dress 

Your brothers entered the room, but you were nervous, they could see it, and didn’t push you with the physical contact.

Nervous or not, scared to death or not, nightmares or not, you were home, for the next two weeks, you were safe and sound in your home with your family, your whole family, they had all expressed their love for you unborn child. 

If you only knew then, you were going to look back to those days as the happiest of your life…

The summit went terribly wrong… awfully, terribly wrong

Aemond was enraged, for the simple reason you were taken from him, his own family had mocked him, deceived him, betrayed him, you were his, not theirs to trade like they saw fit, he had claimed you, he belonged to you

As expected, not even Aegon could control Aemond, who demanded you to be brought back to him, now he seeked a marriage, and again, demanded that the pact of the division of the Kingdoms was sealed under a marriage pact, but not only Rhaenyra refused, but Aegon and Alicent did also…

It was a breaking point

The first one to suffer his wrath… was your baby brother

Plucked front he skies as he was returning front the Eyrie a few weeks after the summit

Your mother, nor you, not anyone really, was the same

The pact of no aggression went to shit after that

And the seven Kingdoms submerged in a gruesome war

Your brother Jacaerys was next, he perished in the narrow sea, he and his dragon, fighting against the triarchy, your baby brothers were lost too, Aegon and Viserys, you were numb by then, but the wails of your mother would hunt you forever

By that time, you were almost about to give birth

You had terrible nightmares everyday and you were certain you were going to perish in childbirth, only to punish your mother further

It was a terribly stormy night you gave birth

Terrible shapes were drawn in the walls because of the winds that sneaked through the windows threatening to make the flames of the torches perish. You felt like you were hunted by demons of the seven hells, waiting in the corner of your eyes and the room, ready to collect you

But the wail of your baby scared them away

Against all odds, you recuperated, your baby brought a glimpse of hope into the castle

Your mother was never going to smile again, but you felt her relief, and she seemed to draw a small smile only for your newborn son when she held him in her arms

Aemond’s son

You had heard terrible things about him in the last months 

That he married Floris Barahteon

that she died trying to bring forth a deformed child

That it was because a witch from Harrenhal, Alys Rivers had poisoned her because she tried to take away her lover

Yes, Aemond had taken a Strong bastard as a lover 

You could say he had a type

Things took a turn when your mother took King’s Landing

You assured her you were better here, in Dragonstone, “holding the fort”, as it were, you did not want to go back to that palace, even though, staying here alone would probably tell Aemond that you were here…

But…

He had taken wives and mistresses, so maybe, only maybe, he had forgotten about you 

Oh how wrong you were

Your baby boy was about to have his first name day when you heard the terrible news

King’s Landing had fallen

Because your stepfather, Daemon, has challenged Aemond, who remained the biggest threat, to a single combat with their dragons above the God’s eye, and he had perished

And Aemond survived it…

He and an injured Aegon took back the capital, slayed your mother, your remaining baby brother Joffrey had perished as well

And you stood in Dragonstone, alone

Dragonless, powerless

The houses loyal to your mother’s cause were in disarray, and even though her cause was still alive and well, it was hard to find something to fight for, your baby brother Aegon the III had been captured by The Usurper, and nobody looked at you, the known disgraced daughter of Rhaenyra 

You didn’t have time to ponder, or to grief

7 days after the death of your mother, sails and wings were seen upon the horizon

Ships dressed in black, gold and Green, and the monstrous Vhagar guarding them

Your people fought valiantly, knowing they were going to perish, they did not have enough strength to repel the force and defend the castle… and yet… they fought to die, for your mother’s cause, for you

But it wasn’t long… until you heard rushed step running down the stone hallway and towards your room, armor and sword clashing, screams and wails of agony

You shushed your baby, who was whimpering, ready to start crying

You sat in a chair in the corner furthest from the door, you had a vial of Tears of Lys, the maester had concocted for you

“For its preferable death than what they do to women on a siege”, He had said, it was enough for you... and for….

You looked down at your son, who was looking up at you with his big beautiful eyes.

His dragon, barely a hatchling, wailed and cried in the corner, flapping his silvery wings, he knew his bonded human was in danger, of his own mother, your thought, he filed shortly to stand in the armchair by your side, protecting your baby

You couldn’t do it

You couldn’t take the life of your own child, and not even your own

If you perished, who was going to care for your child? bastard prince?

The doors opened suddenly and soldier wearing the golden dragon on their chest threw themselves at you

You threw the vial on one of the soldiers face, making him cry out when the liquid got in his eyes

But they were vicious

You only started crying and screaming when one of them ripped your son from your arms, as another grabbed your limbs to tear from him

You kicked and screamed profanities as you son wailed when he was parted from you.

His dragon was caught by the neck but screeched and threw little flames that made the soldier curse

But he knew better than to harm him

“Let me go! traitors! usurper cunts!”, you were lashing out, scared for your son, your child

They dragged you through the hallways and corridors, trough halls and rooms

You knew exactly where you were going

Anywhere you looked you saw people killed, soldiers, servants, you looked at each of them, knowing their names and their faces, it was a sign of respect, a last thanks for their loyalty and sacrifice

The double doors of the throne room opened, and there he was

Sitting on the Dragonstone throne

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond’s face was one of complete satisfaction, but completely changed when he saw him

Your son, in the arms of another soldier, entered behind you

He paled, he was shocked… He knew you were in this castle, that is why he came so quickly, he had to take it, and retrieve you… But he never expected this… he knew you had been with child, but his spies never managed to confirm the birth of the baby… so he thought of the worse

The child… he had white hair, big eyes just like him… his head filled with silver curls

He didn’t even had to think about it

This was his son

You were pregnant, you had his child in your belly when you escaped his grasp

“Everyone, leave”, everyone left except for the soldiers who were holding you tightly

Aemond walked slowly towards you

He was the same as he was the last time you saw him

Maybe more… adult… he seemed tired, older, crueler….

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for two years”, he started, “to see you again… tu punish you for betraying me” 

“I didn’t…”, only with his look he got you to stay quiet

“You ran away from me… took my son with you”

“I didn’t know…”, you muttered defensively

Your son, Aerion, got strangely quiet, looking at his father with curiosity, and Aemond turned to him, and he drew a smile on his face

“This was going to be a lot different…”, he said as a threat, he dared to touch his cheek with his finger. Aerion playfully turned with a smile on his face and wiggled in the soldier’s embrace 

He planned on dragging you by the hairs, humiliating you in front of the Lords of the Crownlands, making you kneel and crawl, or worse…

But he never expected this

His son

He didn’t even have to ask, or do the math, he… this was his son, his flesh and blood.

“What’s his name?”, he asked softly, taking the babe from the soldier’s embrace, accommodated him in his arms

“Aerion”, you said simply, “Aerion…”

“Aerion Waters”, he completed, you frowned

“My stepfather named him a Targaryen, my mother legitimize him, he is a Targaryen”, you defended, then his dragonling roared, making himself known

Aemond smiled widely

“He hatched a dragon…”, he said, pride in his voice

Angry tears fell from your eyes

Aemond had killed your baby brother, your stepfather… And now he was happily holding his son, your son

“He is mine”, you whined, he looked at you, as you cried, “he is my son, and mine alone!”, you whined, at the sound of your voice, Aerion reached for you with his chubby hands, waggling frantically in his father’s arms 

“He is my son too”, he said, trying to pull him away. The soldiers grabbed you tightly 

“How do you know?”, you asked, and he laughed 

“I knew what happened that night when you left me, I tortured that wretched old man, and he confessed to me, that you were with child”

“That’s why you killed my baby brother?”, you asked, it’s been almost two years,

“They took you from me”, he said simply, “they took my son…”, he kept reaching for you, you tried to go to him but they grabbed you even tighter, “he is the sole reason… the mere thought of his existence, is what led me to win against my vicious uncle, is what gave me the strength…”

Your son was your reason to live, everyone else was gone, only he remained, you had to fight for him, you couldn’t leave him alone, you couldn’t leave him at Aemond’s mercy…. More tears fell from your eyes as you whimpered in fear

“Please… don’t harm him”, you whined, Aemond was so unpredictable, and his temper was feeble, you could never guess what he was going to do

“HARM HIM?”, he asked, enraged, “he is my son and heir… how could I ever harm him?”, he said, “I’ve killed for him…”

“What are you going to do?”, you asked then

He looked back at you, his gaze changed, fargone was the cruel and mean, his eye softened, his mouth untightened 

You hated him now

You did

And he could see it

“He is my son and heir, and I will say that publicly”, he said calmly, “I will take him with me abc to King’s Landing”

“NO!”, you fought to release yourself from their grasp, you did, “he is mine! he is mine!”, you screamed, Aerion began mumbling and whining, wanting to reach you again

“If you want to come with him, with me…”, he then smiled as yous tilled, “beg me for it”

“What?”, you whined

“Beg me to take you with me, beg for my forgiveness for abandoning me, and beg me to let you see my son”

“HE IS MINE!”, you cried, “he is mine you can’t take him!”

“Beg”, he demanded, you weep as the soldiers released you

You couldn't lose him, not your baby, you son

He could take him, he could command his soldiers to slice your neck right then and there, and your son would be alone

So with trembling legs, you fell to the ground, you heard your son whimper, threatening to start crying

And you kneeled in front of the man that raped you, that killed your brother and your stepfather

“Please”, you begged, “don’t take him from me… he is the only thing I have…”, you weeped, Aemond smiled widely 

“And what would you have me do?”, he asked

“Please I beg of you, take me with him”, you cried, “take me with you”, you continued, wiping your tears, “please, I’ll do whatever you want please, don’t take him away from me”

When Aerion realized that his “father” was not going to release him, he started crying loudly, wiggling and reaching even more strongly for you

“You'll do as commanded”, he said, his patience short, “or I will lock you up in the black cells and you will never see your son again”

“Please”, you begged, “not him”

“Very well”, he said, pleased 

Aemond got what he always wanted, he got you, and a son, and even though he reveled in the thought that he had tainted you with a bastard… he thought enough is enough

You kept your word, receiving Aemond in your bed, back in your life, you did everything he wanted

He kept his in turn, he married you through a Valyrian ceremony

Aegon died of his wounds, he left no children behind him, so Aemond was named King of the Seven Kingdoms, and your son was Prince of Dragonstone, and you, became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

Nobody complained about the fact that you were not married when he was born

Your life wasn’t happy… but Aemond was pleased with you, so he didn't harm you… much, and you were allowed to see your son everyday

You were never going to forgive him for killing your family, but you had no choice, but stand at his side

Once you were married, you got pregnant again, you gave birth to a little girl you named Aerea, an egg was placed in her crib, an old egg, that was of Aegon’s delusion, and against all odds, it hatched for her

Aemond was thrilled

he sat on the throne with his son perched on his leg, and his daughter in his arms

You actually helped him settle as King

You gave him two more children, a boy, Rhaegar, and three years later, another boy you named Maekar

You found consolation in your babies, and the fact that after you and Aemond are gone, your mother’s blood was going to sit the Iron Throne 

Edit

Aemond kept visiting Alys Rivers, his mistress, that relieved you, until her and her bastard's death at a fire in Harrenhal, nobody ever find the culprit, even though all eyes turned to Corlys Velaryon

THE END

taglist! ❤️

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle098-blog @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00fsadness @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @daemontargaryenwhore @bash1018 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ninastyless @strangersunghoon @bellstwd @yoshiplushie

#misguidedstorm #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hbo house of the dragon

[worms-in-my-brain]

Having affective empathy deficits because you have ASPD and cognitive empathy deficits because you have autism is wild. Especially when you have a high need for cognition and a high cognitive capacity. It’s like constantly playing 4D chess.

Someone telling me a story about something I have zero personal experience with? I am SO useless. Usually I refer to past situations I’ve been in so I know how the other person might be feeling and what advice I would give but when I have 0 context and I’m already bad at cognitive empathy. And I can’t even relate to how they feel or ‘feel for them’ even if they directly tell me. It’s like idk what do you want me to say. That sure is a situation. Do fuck all for all I care. Except I can’t say that, because I know people are expected to care about that stuff… and on some level, if it’s a friend, I do care—but the barrier to my understanding is so huge that I end up only caring from a, like, theoretical standpoint. Like yeah in general if my friend gets hurt I care. But also. I have no emotions regarding how you respond to this specific situation. And then my ability to engage on the topic starts to slim down to frantic attempts to engage social scripts so that I don’t show what’s going on in my head.

It’s also insane because like. I always think that I have good cognitive empathy (for an autistic person) until the end of the day. And then I drop my mask and I realise how tired I am. Or when I’m at a social gathering for a while and I use so much energy I wind up practically hiding behind a friend so nobody talks to me. And then I realise that, yeah, I might be able to use it to function to some extent, but every time I do I’m using all of these mental functions that I barely even realise I’m using anymore that it just nukes me.

AuSPD is a pretty intense combo in that it really severely damages your ability to relate to other people. Especially when the impacts they have on your thoughts make it so that, often, your perspective is only understood by yourself. (Its why I enjoy online communities sm—somebody out there is BOUND to relate EVENTUALLY and I like seeing that I’m not alone).

#aspd #aspd safe #aspd things #actually aspd #cluster b safe #Cluster b #actually cluster b #autism and aspd #AuSPD

[itspyon]

there’s only two more things i’d mention aside from your super well made points about the current state of drontent, one about dnf/fan content and the other about stans.

i understand that parasocialism hit him hard after the face reveal and physically experiencing it is wildly different to experiencing it online but i think part of what he perceived as parasocialism was just the fandom coping.

for a long time there was little to no dream content (for good reason and i don’t blame him for it at all of course) and dnf artists and writers stepped up to fill that gap. not to discredit other ship artists and writers but there just weren’t as many as for dnf and they never got the same attention. this meant that the thing fuelling the fandom and therefore the thing most wildly discussed was fan content and as such was dnf.

this is relevant to the current state of things because by putting his dnf assertion in the truth video- the most serious video he has ever and will ever have to make- alongside some big boundary shifts and other insanely serious stuff he’s inadvertently cut down fan content at the knees.

there’s nowhere near as much ship or non ship fanfic, fanart, or just general fan creations as there was even a week before the truth dropped because nobody has the motivation and everyone is worried about what too far is, in the past he might have clarified/expanded on twitter or on a minecraft chatting stream but now we don’t have that association with him anymore basically at all.

so now we have no dream content and no fan content and people are using this assertion that he is innocent to make peace with the fandom and leave because there’s really not enough to keep people interested, it’s experiencing the post-october content drought without the weight on everyone’s shoulders that provided a tether to each other in a way.

on stans, i understand his new perspective but i think his u turn being completely unprecedented kind of blindsided people. dream fans and dream stans, especially in recent years, have been very self-regulating and very cognisant of dreams explicit wishes. if he was uncomfortable with the way stans were acting there’s a sense that he could have mentioned it to the fandom first before he accidentally provided people who hate his fandom with ammunition against them.

overall i just wish the handling of his expectations and wishes for his fanbase weren’t put on blast in such a way because it’s not done anything to ease the hostile perception of dream fans. sorry for essaying in your askbox btw and please don’t perceive this as me being a r/dwt2 level crazy it’s just that i miss dream, and moreso i miss the more comfortable days in the fandom when- even with the crazies and the infighting- there was some sense of unity and contentment and dream wasn’t afraid to come to us as just another person and offer guidance/engage with us casually.

oh this wasn't crazy at all anon. i totally get this for sure ! i agree, very well put

#pyon askies #pyon long post

[izvmimi]

cw: questionable reader, infidelity, reader is engaged to izuku, fem!reader. mention of alcohol and smoking. violence and deceit. brief smut with dubious consent. minors dni. 

summary: reader looks for excitement and gets more than she bargained for.

a/n: this is... something lmfao. heed the warnings.

you’re greedy. 

here you are, with a pricey ring on your finger, in a posh little apartment that is decorated head to toe with the things you like and never had to pay for, and with a lease you’ve never seen nor signed, looking directly at a framed photo of your eventually-husband on the wall. it’s the cover page from an old shoot of izuku’s that you’ve always thought was particularly sexy and encouraged him to make for you. 

it doesn’t have the same effect, you realize. 

not because you don’t find your fiancé attractive anymore - that’s far from the truth - but because you’ve decided that all of this is... too easy.

izuku loves you too much. he’s sweet. he’s kind. he makes time for you even though he’s often busy. you are the moon and the stars to him and would do anything to make you happy. 

something about that is... boring, you think. 

turning over on your bed, you scroll through your social media on a burner account you hold - the one that lets you creep on all the pro heroes that you’ve ever considered. pro hero cellophane seems to be dating a new girl these days that he thinks is probably too good for him but who he’s definitely too good for, chargebolt and mindjack appear to be going strong as usual, and ingenium remains happily married to pro hero uravity. 

you continue to scroll, and then you see him. pro hero dynamight.

foul-tempered despite having a good heart, and with a scowl to contend with your partner’s classic winning smile, you can’t conceal your own smile creeping to your lips as you click on his handle and go through his pictures.

you’ve always wondered what it would be like... if it were him instead of izuku. after all, if there was such a long childhood rivalry, it must be for a reason, right? katsuki bakugou - the name rolls off your tongue as you lay in bed, and you append it to yours instead of midoriya. it sounds better, you think. he is better for you, perhaps. 

your mouth twists as you look at the your engagement ring. it catches the light as your hand moves. 

perhaps. if you’ve caught one’s eye, perhaps you can catch the other you’ve always thought. 

after all, you run into katsuki at the store today, and for once, just once, he smiled at you. 

---

izuku has been overseas for a month by now. the video calls and text messages have remained the same level of consistent, every day and twice on sunday, and he’s sent you postcards, many of which apologize for not being there and others making it very clear that he would want nothing more than to hold you close. you’re most fond of the presents - expensive shoes and clothing, makeup, anything that you ask for to keep yourself looking well-maintained - although you still do appreciate how sweet he is when he calls you in the middle of the night, and how that rapidly shifts to a more hungry, dominant tone in the early am.

but you’ve realized you like bakugou’s voice better.

“you come around here often?” he says in a low tone, as he catches you on your daily run through the park down the street from your highrise. you laugh, coyly as you stop and thank the heavens that you picked this particular outfit that accentuates your best assets.

“you know i live here, don’t you?”

he grins, and you’re blinded by white teeth in the early morning sun.

“yeah, i’m well aware midoriya moved you in here.”

you scrunch your face. it’s that classic rude behavior that stings but perhaps can soften over time. maybe you’ll be more partial to it when he’s fucking you.

“he did so kindly move me here, but i have my own money, you know,” you say, sweetly. bakugou tilts his head to the side, and you keep your smile even, batting your eyelashes ever so slightly. it’s irresistible and you watch his eyes glide over you carefully before he catches himself.

“can i continue my run, mr. dynamight?” you ask, skirting past him. accidentally bumping into him, you apologize, but you deliberately hold onto his bicep. it’s a trained move. you’ve done it on midoriya enough times to know that it works. 

you don’t say anything else to each other -  bakugou makes some noncommittal sound and decides he’s no longer interested in the conversation - but you figure some progress has been made as you run off, making sure he has a good view of you from the back.

---

bakugou is hard to break, but he leaves just enough hints that you can crack him. after all, since you’ve met in the neighborhood, he seems to pop up everywhere you are, to the point that you’ve teased him about potentially stalking you.

“i don’t think izuku would like how much time you’re spending around me,” you finally tease. you are sipping from a martini at a bar, again not too far from your highrise, enough that you can stumble back home together and make a very serious mistake (or not). bakugou’s drink is surprisingly sweet - an amaretto stone sour - and you tease him endlessly for it.

“it’s good,” he replies, gruffly, not looking at you. he downs it quickly, and you think perhaps a couple more of those will get him drunk and honest.

"midoriya doesn’t care about much other than hero work,” bakugou says. 

you raise an eyebrow slightly at the implication that your fiancé does not care where you go or what you do. and yet here you are, on a friday evening with #2, hoping that perhaps he will look at you the same way your partner does.

“like you do?” you joke, laughing. the tilt of bakugou’s head is just teasing enough at this angle and you remember that he is quite charming despite all of his supposed faults. 

“i’m here with you tonight, aren’t i?”

you don’t have a comeback for that. instead, you shift, and then you move in a little, and he moves in too, and your lips meet.

---

when clothes come off and your phone turns off, for a minute, you consider just how wrong this is. after all your partner hasn’t done anything wrong except be himself, and now you’ll probably miss his calls to sleep with his friend. 

and yet when katsuki stuffs himself inside you and his fingers intertwine with yours, it’s very hard to imagine that anything else matters. what matters is this moment, right now, where katsuki has also noticed you, and also dreamt of pleasuring you, and doesn’t care about risking his reputation or his friendship for your sake... it feels like something you don’t want to wake up from.

katsuki gives you round after round, and by the final time you’ve tipped over the edge, you have a single second of clarity. 

your phone hasn’t rung the entire night. there’s an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach once you realize this, stress exuding from your body like the fluid (cum and all) seeping out of your legs. 

when you turn, katsuki is lighting a cigarette, something that surprises you. no pro hero you’ve ever met does this, and especially not so casually, given that they usually make sure to keep their bodies in tip-top shape.

or at least look like they’re doing so.

“you... smoke?”

he almost looks shocked you asked. you blink, pulling your bedsheets to cover your chest instinctively, but continue laying on your side. katsuki crosses his legs at the ankle and lays comfortably. he glances at the picture of izuku across the room, and you look at his face carefully for any type of remorse. there is none. rather than remorse, there’s more a curiosity. 

“does he treat you well?” katsuki asks. 

you swallow hard. considering katsuki’s lips were just closed around your nipple a few minutes ago it’s an extremely odd question.

“...” you can’t bring yourself to say no, but you also don’t think saying yes is appropriate given the circumstances. so instead you say nothing. 

katsuki pulls you closer to lay against his body, still staring at the picture dispassionately. you squirm a little against him, but he’s warm. he feels somewhat safe. somewhat. 

perhaps this feeling will change with time. after all, you’ve been with izuku for years. it’s bound to feel different having a different man in your bed.

you remain hopeful, and you fall asleep.

---

pro hero dynamight is not beside you in the morning, but before you can panic and consider yourself used, you hear tinkering outside the room, and the thought occurs to you that perhaps he needed to use the bathroom, or even better, was kind enough to make breakfast.

thinking about the incredible sex you had from last night brings warmth to your cheeks, but when you look up and see izuku’s picture, you quickly avert your eyes to check your phone on the end table.

no missed calls. no texts.

odd.

for a moment you wonder if something may have happened to him, if perhaps some karmic curse meant injury befell him and that’s why he hasn’t called you, but you quickly shake that thought from your head. you are by no means superstitious. you are allowed to fall out of love with someone.

perhaps not in this particular way, but izuku will get over it. someday.

you still feel like you should check in, however. sitting up, you wonder how logistically you can call him - should you wait for katsuki to leave or text him now and risk him calling you? 

while you are contemplating, you get a phone call... 

from katsuki.

not the fake number he’s been using to contact you all this time, but his actual one, the one you and izuku both have.

furrowing your eyebrows, you pick up the phone, and it really is him, his voice, and you wonder why he hasn’t just walked back in to talk to you. 

“hey ____, deku got caught up with something and the nerd wants me to make sure you’re safe-”

you cut him off in confusion.

“wait, what are you talking about? aren’t you just in the kitchen?”

katsuki pauses and the pit you had in your stomach earlier seems to double in size. you can faintly hear the water still running in the kitchen and footsteps shuffling around.

“... what the hell are you on about?” he asks. 

your heart starts to pound.

“babe, don’t be silly we just made love.”

there’s a very pregnant pause on the phone, and then katsuki clears his throat.

he doesn’t ask why you called him babe, and you try desperately to come up with an explanation for the extremely impartial tone he has on the phone. your throat is going dry the entire time, blood running cold from your fingertips to your toes.

“what the fuck are you talking about? why would i ever...?” 

“s-so you haven’t been here?”

“are you fucking insane? i just came back from osaka last night.” he replies, incredulous. 

a sound comes out of you that sounds like a whimper and it’s fear. bakugou is still ranting at the other end of the line but you catch only some of it. 

“hold on, i’m just gonna ask midoriya to call you because i have no idea who the fuck you’re calling babe but i’d rather stay out of it.”

the pit in your stomach triples and you start calculations in your head.

if that’s not katsuki, then who is-

the footsteps are approaching now and you quickly hang up, pushing your phone into the cabinet, smiling sweetly at not-katsuki who’s finally returned. 

“did you sleep well?” he asks. now that you look again, his red irises don’t look right, flat and soulless compared to bakugou’s natural vitality.

what’s more concerning is not-katsuki’s hands are behind his back.

you’re unable to conceal your sudden terror, and tremble as you answer:

“y-yes.”

not-katsuki has finally realized that you’ve picked up that he’s not who he says he is. a smile unfurls, and then the disguise melts away slowly as whoever the fuck you just fucked reveals knives sharpened to a point and a hole lot of rope.

you’re too terrified to scream.

“i didn’t think this disguise would work,” he chuckles as he approaches. “i always thought the pro heroes were the best of friends.”

frozen in place, you think of a way to escape, but nothing comes to mind. instead you are naked, vulnerable, confused and trapped in a web of your own making. 

your phone starts to ring, the vibration reverberating through the wood in the cabinet.

the villain smiles, and his teeth are no longer perfect and white, and your future is suddenly uncertain.

“good thing, you’re a dirty little whore.”

#izuku midoriya x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #thoughts: izuku #thoughts: bakugou #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #cw: infidelity