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sundrop-writes · 3 months

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Officially announcing my new series: Careful.

A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.

'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'

The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!

(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)

The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.

...

The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did.

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers.

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.”

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.”

“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.”

The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it.

It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever.

It was you.

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?

Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully.

You had a son.

…

When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him.

The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep.

Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion.

Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief.

Shock.

You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here?

“Y/N,”

He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over.

This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions.

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret.

Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage.

And that was when you finally spoke.

“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say.

You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time.

“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?”

You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure.

“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat.

“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out.

“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless.

He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception.

…

You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well.

Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent.

“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips.

“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply.

…

Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly.

He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind.

“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.”

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?”

“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.”

“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off.

You already knew what he was going to say.

‘Do you know when he was conceived?’

“No.” You rushed to say.

But it was a lie. You knew.

You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived.

You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember.

And you knew exactly when.

The night was so vivid in your mind.

…

He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart.

When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question.

“Do you have a condom?”

It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him.

“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward.

When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you.

“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.”

(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.)

He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this.

He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you.

This was always his favorite part.

The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way.

It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other.

It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible.

With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t.

“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning.

“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.”

Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’.

The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth.

He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time.

…

It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why.

Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night.

He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were.

But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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chaedomi · 7 months

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AGRICHE TO PEDELIAN

SUMMARY . flowers don't attract butterflies alone. suddenly, others are gravitating to you, expanding your long list of obsessive admirers. pt. 1

CHARACTERS . THE BLUE PEDELIAN

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, kidnapping, mild injury, implied violence, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 2.4k+ / MASTERLIST.

HOW DID it end up like this? It all happened in the span of one night while you were asleep. And when you reopened your eyes, you quickly discovered that you were no longer inside your bedroom. You had time to explore every place in your manor, so when you couldn’t identify which part of the manor you were in, you began to panic and overthink.

Your distress got worse when a silver-haired female burst into the room and grabbed you into a hug as if there wasn’t some problem with this. At this point, you began to cry, fully convinced that you were kidnapped, pushing the woman away from you, and startling her. It was in chaos for a while, your screams mixing with your words as you wailed for your freedom. The woman tried to reassure you with sweet words, inclusive of the maids present who stepped in to assist by dangling pretty jewelry in front of your face to distract you.

Unfortunately, their efforts to appease you only increased your wails. When a masculine figure barged into the room this time, it was only then you stopped crying, in favor of blinking at him while the stray tears fell from the corner of your eyes. Staring at the male, you knew he looked familiar, your panicked mind just couldn’t identify who.

When he approached you with a gentle smile, patted your head, and began this monologue of ‘protecting’ you, you finally put the pieces together; this male was no other than the heir of The Blue Pedelian, CASSIS. Oh, boy…

In truth, your kidnapping was all ROXANA's fault, and she had no choice but to admit that. God forbid if her family found out that she was the whole reason for your disappearance, it would even make her kind-hearted mother hold some form of grudge against her and result in her execution. Luckily, no one was able to trace the doings back to her… except her red-eyed freak of an older brother.

Satisfying her curiosity was not worth it. As they say, it killed the cat. Now, she was stuck reaping the consequences of her stupidity; distraught over your disappearance, and additional work that could have been avoided, in her plan.

…If her life didn't depend on his, you bet she would have already retaliated without mercy. How foolish, she gave him an inch and he took a mile.

But, who is to blame other than herself? To explain, it was a fleeting thought that crossed her mind one morning to which she initially paid no mind… till it stubbornly stuck inside her brain. From what she remembered, in The Abysmal Flower, Sylvia displayed extreme and obsessive feelings toward you, despite being the enemy, willing to risk her safety to keep you by her side. Due to her intervention, however, Sylvia remained out of the picture. Still, she began to wonder.

If Sylvia wasn’t immune to your adorable charms, could it possibly be the same for Cassis? And thus, it marked the beginning of her little experiment. It came as no surprise to her that Cassis was on guard when she first introduced you to him. After all, almost every Agriche child was a demon spawn.

Regardless of the precautions Cassis took, his guard quickly crumbled once he was exposed to your innocence and purity, much to Roxana’s amusement. His hostile attitude quickly evaporated, he even held you on his lap (with Roxana’s permission), reciting stories that would intrigue a child your age. …She wished he was that cooperative with her as well.

She continued this pattern for a few weeks… every day, she would spare some time to take you to Cassis and observe how it played out in the distance. And each time, it never failed to entertain her. A righteous and kept man like him becomes nothing more than a slave for a child, an enemy’s child. She was long satisfied with her discovery, it’s just that Cassis was always in a better mood and more willing to listen after he spent his time with you.

But the day Cassis got too comfortable and had the guts to refer to you as one of his SIBLINGS, she realized, she may have spoiled him too much. She never had a problem when Sylvia referred to you as her ‘little sister.’ However, that was BEFORE she was thrown into the novel world. Now that she had the opportunity to experience your kindness herself, anyone who tried to make their claim on you outside the family is nothing LESS aggravating. And that was the end of your little visits.

That’s when it went downhill. Of course, Cassis was quick to pick up on your sudden absence throughout the days. He tried to ask, but once Roxana's tone progressively got more aggressive the longer he persisted, he finally got the hint. He wasn't seeing you again.

Roxana was grateful that Cassis had shut his mouth after a while. But, she found it odd how compliant he remained without your presence. More so, she hated the way he stared at her, a hidden intent she couldn't figure out in his eyes. It intensified when she gave him a map of the manor, a faint sighting of a smirk ghosting his lips. …Out of all people, Roxana would have never expected Cassis to kidnap someone. Trust no one, as they say. What an arse… Repaying her good deeds with this.

And so, the manor of The Black Agriche was thrown into a frenzy, having lost something very precious. Unless Roxana wanted to stir more trouble with hasty actions, she must sit quietly for now. …At the very least she didn’t need to worry about your safety. Unlike The Black Agriche, The Blue Pedelian will never torture their captives, let alone a young child like you…

Meanwhile, you were having your own crisis. This was a very drastic change. Although the violent nature of your family often terrifies you, you have grown used to it… kind of. Now, with the serene environment of The Blue Pedelians, you've grown antsy, anticipating some form of chaos to arise.

Ignoring how he took you without your agreement (no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions in a good light), you felt more comfortable being around CASSIS than the rest of the family. You weren’t sure if the times spent together back in your manor contributed to your lack of fear around him or relieved over the fact that your situation could have been very worse, and you didn’t care all that much. Cassis's attitude toward you didn’t change from when he was held prisoner, instead, his doting habits only increased now that his actions were not limited and monitored. He spoils you a lot, more than he spoils his younger sister. He will try his hardest to provide whatever you want, as long as it stays within the 'reasonable' range.

And by 'reasonable' he means, stop asking him to return you home. Suddenly, he understood Roxana's frustration. Is this what she felt when he continuously persisted? He doesn't get why you would want to return home out of all places; your family is vile.

It's not like you wanted to return, you had to. Although you wished to run away and never return, the odds were still not in your favor for you to make your escape plan. Something also told you that residing in The Blue Pedelian Manor was its own kind of hell…

The possible feud that can brew if your whereabouts were revealed made your skin crawl with fear. Knowing your value between the two families as well, you would be caught in the crossfire, and who knows what would happen to you then… You were trying to make things better for you, not destroy all your chances.

Cassis still didn't listen to your concerns (he never does), shutting down your complaints with a stern glare. …You just hope whatever war was to break out, it would happen later rather than sooner…

Just what was wrong with you? He’s trying his hardest to get you accustomed to your new surroundings, spoiling you with gifts, spending time with you along with his sister, anything to put you at ease. Yet, you just didn’t care! All you did was flush his efforts down the drain. He thought he was making progress with you, so he would never expected it, hell, even imagined it. But, when he caught you creeping around the exit gates, your freaked-out expression said it all. Now, here you were, leg chained to the bedpost back inside your prison-like bedroom. Seeing you chained up reminded him of himself, and it was interesting to see the roles switch to some extent. Truthfully, your tears pained him, but, he didn’t see the point in you crying. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he wished that you’d stop acting as if he was.

"Why can’t you understand that this is for your benefit?"

Oh? SYLVIA adores you? Why, that's no secret and is obvious to anyone who witnesses the interaction between you and her. Why wouldn't she love you!? You're everything she ever wanted in a younger sister… well, minus the looks, but, she can get past that!

MORE doting than Cassis, it's overbearing, honestly. Ever since your first encounter, you don't remember a time when you were left alone; it's always some lousy excuse to be around you. She hugs, kisses, cuddles, squishes, and any affectionate gesture she can think of, she does it to you. It was like she was trying to merge herself with you.

Honestly, her compassion spooked you. Her behavior reminded you a lot of your second stepmother, Maria. So, you weren't surprised when she had some hostile reaction whenever a maid would unintentionally interrupt your 'bonding' time. The sweeter they are, the more aggressive. Well, at least there weren't any dead bodies scattered on the ground…

Have you ever been so upset that you began to cry? Sylvia is a perfect demonstration of that. Perhaps you were right to compare her to Maria, the rage evident on her face was akin to the deadly glare your stepmother wore when she was furious. Flashbacks clouded your mind of how Maria snapped when a servant accidentally spilled milk on your gown. This situation was much different; a maid somehow cut your hand with the teacup. The one time Sylvia thought it was a good idea to let you get some fresh air outside your room, the fun atmosphere was ruined by something silly as this. It’s no surprise if your family lashed out, but to see a sophisticated woman such as Sylvia spew out words of profanity and behave so hostile was unexpected. At the very least, you appreciated she held back for your sake. With the way her hands shook with rage the longer she chewed out the maid, you had the impression Sylvia wanted to do much more than a stern talking to.

“There you are! I looked for you everywhere. I was beginning to worry that you’ve run away, but, you won’t do that to me, right?”

Your fear of RISCHEL was reasonable. Given his position inside his household, you two never met that often. However, the rare times you do meet, his piercing gaze never fails to make you shrink back on yourself. If you think about it, his hateful attitude made sense. You were one of the many offsprings of his biggest enemy, Lante, and said enemy kidnapped his son and tormented him mercilessly. Some of his son’s many torturers included Lante’s children, so you could just imagine the many scenarios that went through his mind. You don’t blame him if he was tempted to torment you, solely for Lante having a taste of his own medicine.

While Rischel’s expression came across as wanting to bury you six feet under, in truth, he was very much intrigued by your existence. It was confusing to see his son return with an unconscious child after escaping. And for a moment he feared that his son went mad when the child held in his arms was an Agriche and pleaded for your protection.

He was hesitant (for good reason) but ultimately agreed in the end. If his son saw something valuable in you, then there must be some worth in keeping you around. However, it didn’t mean he automatically trusted you. Without your knowledge, he monitored you, planting eyes everywhere. Any suspicious activity he was informed of would be enough validation for him to throw you out with no hesitation.

…So how exactly did his wariness morph into overwhelming softness toward you? (like father like son) The feeling just dawned upon him and he noticed it all: your mannerisms, your innocence, it slowly rubbed on him in a positive light. This was strange. He wonders if you had used a spell on him, no one should fall under anyone’s whims so suddenly as if you possessed this charm that melts even the hearts of the cold-blooded. But, oh, did the feeling around you feel so nice. And soon, he simply gave in to the desire to love you and protect you.

You realized how much more tolerable he became of your presence, to your relief. Even so, the feelings you saw on the outside couldn’t begin to compare to the rapidly developing obsessive feelings he harbored for you. And by the time you began to pick up on the dangerous signals, the damage was already done.

You were beyond speechless when you looked into the reflection of the mirror, staring at someone else entirely. Her hair was a shade of pure silver, and her eyes resembled the golden rays of the sun. As you reached your hand out to touch the glass, your body froze as reality sunk in. This was not another person, but rather you, with a new appearance and identity you were forced to carry. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at the faces of Rischel, Cassis, and Sylvia, hoping for all of this to be one big joke. But, the pleased glances they returned alerted you that this situation was far from a joke, and you had to accept your new fate.

“Sylvia was correct. This look suits you perfectly.”

You were stressed and rightfully so. How could all of this happen? And why did it have to be you? You were still young and didn’t deserve to deal with these problems. In such a short amount of time, along with new obsessors formed, you temporarily resigned to a new lifestyle, switching from agriche to pedelian.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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buggachat · 11 months

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So, this is very important. Emilie or Amelie?

(Answer: Amelie. But seriously, I'm getting ahead of myself, let's talk about it.)

This is kind of a long post. If you don't want to read all of my ramblings, feel free to skip to the final point. That's the important one.

A mysterious woman who is clearly one of the two Graham de Vanily twins was in attendance of the party at the end of the episode. But is she Emilie (Adrien's dead mom, revived by Gabriel's wish) or Amelie (Adrien's already alive aunt)?

Here's the thing. The answer to this question is actually extremely important. Emilie being alive would be a HUGE deal and would have extreme consequences on the narrative and themes of the show.

Seriously. We need to know whether or not Emilie is alive. So, let's discuss— what do we know?

1. Amelie should be at this party.

Seriously. Amelie would be at Adrien's party.

You know who is in attendance at Adrien's party? Not just his friends, but also adults in his life. Nathalie. Su-Han. Jagged Stone. Penny Rolling.

You know what Penny Rolling's relationship is to Adrien? She's the manager/new girlfriend of his friend Luka's recently-undeadbeated-dad. And she was invited to Adrien's party.

Seriously. This is a party of any significant character. Everyone and their mother was invited and— hey wait, where's Félix's mother? Félix is here, and certainly our favorite mommy's boy would invite his mother along. Surely Adrien's aunt would be invited to Adrien's party.

You know, Amelie's aunt, who had a not insignificant arc in the story? A family member to the Agrestes, who we've seen struggle, who would well deserve a shot of her smiling at a party at the finale?

Amelie, who had some unresolved tension with Nathalie, centered around their respective relationships with Gabriel? Tension that would likely be rectified after Gabriel's demise?

Not only would Amelie be at this party, but I absolutely believe she would be sitting next to Nathalie. (I mean, they do know each other. Who else at that party does Amelie even know?)

If that's not Amelie, then where is she?

Oh, and side note, what was the shot just before the shot of the mysterious woman? Oh, that's right. Amelie's son.

2. She only appears for a brief flash, given no more significance than any other character in attendance.

There's a reason why everyone is using the same shot of the mysterious woman when discussing her. That is the only shot of her. There are more shots of Penny Rolling than of her.

Here's the thing. Either Emilie is alive in this final scene, or she isn't. So, how would you expect this scene to play for these circumstances?

Here is a complete list of everything I would expect if Emilie were not alive:

A brief shot of Amelie.

Here is an incomplete list of some of the things I would expect from a "Emilie, the mother of the deuteragonist and ghost that has been haunting the narrative for 5 Seasons, is alive now" reveal, at the bare minimum:

A shot that lingers on Emilie.

Emilie, seated with Nathalie AND HER TWIN SISTER.

A shot of Emilie opening her eyes during Gabriel's wish.

The newscast, which they watch during the party, having a mention of "... and Parisians are still celebrating the rescue of Emilie Agreste, who was previously missing but recently found!"

Adrien literally acknowledging that his dead mother is suddenly alive at all? AT ALL? Looking at her, mentioning her, literally ANYTHING from him? I mean, seriously, what did he think happened—

3. Adrien's perception of his mother's reappearance would need to be addressed. It was not.

Adrien does not know the wish was cast.

Adrien does not know anything.

Here's the thing. While, yes, Emilie has been described as "missing"/"disappeared" in the show, it is absolutely clear to the audience that Adrien has been under the impression that Emilie is dead.

We know this from the painting in the foyer that depicts Gabriel and Adrien in mourning. We know this from the way that Adrien (correctly) draws the conclusion that "Nathalie has the same illness as my mother, therefore she is dying". We know this from the way that Adrien speaks about his mother in past tense, how he encourages his father to move on and date Nathalie, how he has never once in the show seemed to be under the impression that Emilie could come back.

So, if Emilie suddenly came back........... someone would need to explain it to Adrien. He would need to be fed another lie about it. We would need to be made privy as to what he believes happened.

Examples of how this could have been easily achieved:

Again, the newscast. Nadja acknowledging that the missing Emilie Agreste had been found. Maybe mentioning that "she was found being held captive by Monarch" or something. I dunno, whatever lie that works.

Adrien, during his conversation with Marinette, mentioning what happened to Emilie from his perspective, the same way he vocalized to her what his perception of Gabriel's death was. I mean, seriously, Adrien was already doing this expositional dialogue... why wouldn't he mention his mom during it?

4. Leaked production material does not change the final product.

Yes, scripts were leaked of this season. There are deleted scenes in the storyboards. There are script changes and allusions to certain things and mentions here and there in these materials that suggest that the mysterious woman could have, at some point in production, been Emilie.

... at some point in production.

So, here's the thing. This is the most solid Emilie argument we have. In fact, I'd argue it's the only argument that holds any real ground at all. .......... and it's in content that we aren't supposed to have.

( Actually, it's the only real Emilie argument I've seen... period. The only other one I've seen is the fact her statue is gone, but I'd argue that the removal of her statue has symbolic weight no matter what. It was a symbol of Gabriel's obsession over her, the way that she haunts the narrative, the way she looms over the Agreste household. Alive or not, this is not the case anymore. So it makes sense to remove it. )

If your interpretation of the source material is solely, and I mean SOLELY based off of out-of-context snippets of things that were in the writer's room Vaguely At Some Point, things that now directly contradict the final product, things that the audience was absolutely under no circumstances meant to see...

You're not interpreting the episode. You're interpreting out-of-context snippets of a rough draft of it.

So, here's the thing. I've seen some of these leaks, I've seen a lot of people talk about these leaks, I've seen the rumors and I've heard the gossip. I'm not going to parrot it, because honestly, I'm still annoyed that the leaks exist at all. It feels a bit insulting to the art form, tbh, that incomplete scripts are being passed around and touted as significant and more accurate than the actual completed script.

But I'll say one thing:

If the rough drafts of scripts, deleted scenes, etc pointed to Emilie being alive.......

Why did they remove them?

(The answer is simple: because they changed their minds. And you don't have to stress about or mull over why they did it, because you were never supposed to know that it was changed, because you were never supposed to know about out-of-context rough drafts of the script in the first place. It doesn't matter. It's not the product. Writers are allowed to toss around ideas and scripts and then change them. It's unimportant and you're not supposed to be privy to it. It's not for you. It's not what they made. It's certainly not more accurate to the direction they're headed than what they settled on. )

Point is:

IF THE LEAKS DIDN'T EXIST, YOU WOULDN'T BE CONFUSED.

YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THE LEAKS.

YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE CONFUSED.

5. So, Astruc on twitter.

Okay, I love perusing Astruc's twitter for snippets of information as much as the next obsessive miraculous fan. I have perused his twitter a lot. Astruc always addresses comments and concerns under like 20 layers of coyness.

People ask him, "is it Emilie or Amelie"? And basically, every time, he responds with some variation on "pay attention and you'll know".

He's been shooting down people presenting the clues they find to him, on both sides of the argument. Some examples (which include the Amelie wearing black and Emilie wearing white thing):

So, what does this mean, beyond the already known fact that Astruc likes to mess with us?

Obviously, I'm not Astruc. I don't know his mind. I also don't have much of vested interest in dissecting everything he says, nor do I take his word at face value a lot of the time (again, he likes to mess with us).

However, I think two things are fairly clear here:

It IS possible to know whether or not Emilie was revived by watching the episode.

It's not the small details he wants us to look at. Admittedly, color schemes and set dressings are small details. It's not the big picture. It's not important. It's not the heart of what he, or any writer in his position, would want us to interpret.

( Side note, but if nearly every single Emilie argument is based off of things NOT ACTUALLY IN THE EPISODE, then doesn't Astruc saying the answer is in the episode shoot that down right off the bat? But hey! I digress. )

So, what is the big picture? What are the things that writers are truly proud of? What is the thing that a writer would want us to pay attention to? What are the details of the show that can help point us to what transpired in the episode? What—

6. The WRITING of the ENTIRE SERIES, INCLUDING within THIS VERY episode, the dialogue, the themes, the character beats, the symbolism— Literally. All of it. Points to Emilie. STAYING. DEAD.

This is actually the heart of my point.

Emilie absolutely was not revived here.

Here's the thing. The themes of grief and loss and mourning are extremely present within the Agreste arc. Throughout the entire series, the following has been hammered in by the writing:

Gabriel is obsessive for wanting to bring Emilie back. His desires are not healthy or sound. He is delusional. He is hurting Adrien and Nathalie by living in this fantasy.

Gabriel should have moved on.

Nathalie wants to move on.

Adrien has already moved on.

EMILIE HERSELF wanted them all to move on.

Emilie is a nearly angelic figure. Adrien is literally the deuteragonist of the series. Nathalie is a morally grey character with a clear redemption arc. Gabriel is the antagonist.

The "better" the character is, the more certain they are that Emilie should not be revived.

The CORRECT choice, if Gabriel and Nathalie chose the "right" path from the start, would have been for Gabriel and Nathalie to focus on parenting Adrien themselves, instead of obsessing over bringing a dead woman who has already come to terms with her death back to life. That's what Emilie wanted. That's what Adrien wants. That's what Nathalie has wanted but was too afraid to say. That's what Gabriel refuses to accept.

Look, if I go in depth into the scenes where this is addressed, I'd be here all day. Instead, have a screenshot compilation, I guess.

Again. That's been a core message of the series this entire time. And while I don't have screenshots of it being spoken so plainly in seasons 1 and 2, Gabriel has always been depicted as sinister, and his obsession has always been framed in the wrong.

Now, if you're one of those people who refuse to analyze the text at all or interpret what the messages of the show are on the grounds of "the writing sucks so who cares, it's probably just inconsistent writing and they forgot about the themes in the final episode" or whatever, then like. Ok. But here's the thing— this theme is even more hammered home in the finale.

Guys. I'm serious. What the hell do you think the scene before the wish was saying?

Gabriel, at his lowest moment, brought down. Gabriel, detransformed and on his knees before Bug Noir. Gabriel, at the final hour of his life, near tears, still obsessing over his wife, still thinking of his wife his wife his wife above all else, as Bug Noir lays out the literal themes of the show to him in all their beautiful glory.

And then literally forces him to watch the very videos that he had tried to force Nathalie to delete. Forces him to face the very words he refused to acknowledge. Forces him, at his lowest, to come face-to-face with the truth he denied.

.... And it hits him. What she's saying hits him. Because how can he deny Emilie's own words? The very woman he's doing it all for? How can he bring her back to life when she would want nothing less? How can he force the love of his life to live knowing that someone had died for her to, when she didn't want that? How could he have lost himself so much in the madness?

And then Bug Noir comes in with THIS

.... And Gabriel says....

.... Note that, he does not continue to deny it. He does not plead his case that Emilie should be alive. He is no longer arguing that. Here, he has seemingly begun to accept the premise that Emilie should not be brought back to life. Instead, he has a new premise:

He does not want to be alive if Emilie is not.

Gabriel is not selfless. Gabriel is not a good man. Gabriel says, earlier in the episode, flat out, that he is more than willing to kill whoever it takes, whatever rando he wants, to get what he wants.

Here's the thing.

Gabriel wants to be with Emilie.

Gabriel is willing to kill anyone, whoever it takes, to make this happen.

Gabriel realizes Emilie does not want to be alive.

Gabriel decides that he will honor Emilie's final wish......... only partially.

Because Emilie wanted both Gabriel and Nathalie to take care of Adrien. But Gabriel does not want that. It's not that Gabriel is above killing someone to save his own life, it's that he realizes that he, too, does not want to be saved. Because he does not want to live in a world without Emilie.

He would rather be dead, with her, than alive and caring for his own son.

Gabriel Agreste's wish is a suicide. I mean, we already knew this— but I mean, literally. It's not a selfless sacrifice. It's not one final act of goodness. It's a suicide. He decides he wants to die, and he decides that he will save Nathalie in the act— because it's what Emilie wanted, and Gabriel is obsessive. The only person who would reason with him is Emilie herself.

And what does Gabriel's wish look like? How is it depicted to us?

Gabriel and Emilie, cast in a white light. Emilie lifts from her coffin, notably still limp, as Gabriel rises up with her.

He rises up with her, notably supporting her limp head with his hand. She is still unconscious. And he is joining her.

One last selfish act. The final nail into his "trying to be a dad" coffin. He doesn't want to be a dad anymore. He only wants to be with Emilie. And he will gladly pass that responsibility, the responsibility of parentage, onto Nathalie— The only character in the show who has been showing an explicit, vested interest in LIVING to take care of and be a parent to Adrien.

Nathalie is alive. Nathalie is well. A life for a life. One life for one life. That's all that's depicted. That's all that's shown.

Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that more could've been a part of that wish? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that the wish could've been more complicated? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that some random other person died? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that all of that dialogue and that entire scene and the entire buildup of Emilie's recordings were just soooooo lol random and that Emilie just decided that she's totally cool with being revived and alive now and that the entire themes of the series were a lie?

I also think it's technically possible that Marinette has secretly been a hamster wearing a human suit this whole time, and Lila is actually secretly a sentimonster made by Gorilla. And maybe this show isn't a romance, actually, and that Adrien and Marinette aren't meant to be endgame. In fact, maybe the entire series was a big prank. Maybe I'm adopted and my parents lied to me about it.

But how it looks, from what I see, from what I've watched, what just happened is....

Gabriel accepted that Emilie is dead.

This made Gabriel want to die, too. Because he doesn't care about Adrien as much as he cares about Emilie.

So, he did. And he shirked parentage onto Nathalie.

Is this "winning", by the way? By any stretch? Is this "Gabriel getting what he always wanted"? Is this "Gabriel being proved right"? Is this a lack of consequences? Are we really going to call a broken man, who has been slowly turning to ash and rotting away for an entire season, who suffered and was beaten down and, at the very end, had the only people ever in his corner (Nathalie and Adrien) cursing his name and wanting him dead.... him being right all along? Is him committing suicide the series justifying his actions? Is him committing suicide (again, not a selfless sacrifice) him "doing good" and "being redeemed" by the narrative? Is a faux image of him, a false narrative, a complete fictional person that he never truly was being celebrated by ignorant Parisians, him "being redeemed"? I suppose that's another essay altogether. But I'm tired of writing.

also, there was still only one goddamn twin at that party

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 finale spoilers #ml recreation #recreation spoilers #re-creation spoilers #ml re-creation #emilie agreste #amelie graham de vanily #gabriel agreste

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prickly-paprikash · 8 months

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The Bishop in the first Castlevania season is pure evil who believes himself good. He's nearly every crime and hypocrisy of the Catholic Church distilled into one neat, wrinkly, putrid man. He is easy to hate. He is supposed to be despised and we are expected to cheer and rejoice when Blue Fangs chewed on half this man's face.

He uses god to control and manipulate the powers and people that be. While his belief in god may be true, the church and the faith are more tools for him to retain control. It is glaringly obvious that this man is power-hungry.

There is nothing, and I mean nothing at all redeemable about that asshole.

The Abbott is every conservative relative who genuinely loves you, but is a blind idiot holding on to institutions simply because they are "right".

While the Bishop's character is real, most of us won't encounter him. We see him on the news. I'm not even American (been there once for two weeks) but even I've seen his like on news and media. He's a televangelist who consolidates wealth, clout and power through the fanaticism of his followers. He is drunk on the authority he possesses. His belief in god isn't the point; whether or not he holds faith, the man cares solely about power.

The Abbott is someone in our lives we know well. Your conservative mother who refuses to even show a modicum of tolerance towards queer people. Your father who is buying into the religious side of Youtube and Tiktok. Your brother who has grown up to carry terrifying, fascistic beliefs. Your sister who feels lost and found some semblance of acceptance in a church who still believes women are lesser. Your aunt who despises vaccines. Your uncle who tells you that you should've become a priest or a soldier.

The Abbott, deep down, has some redeeming features. But it's not enough to forgive him for his idiocy.

Ask any child who had to grow up with a religious parent, especially a Catholic or an Evangelical. They fucking love the story of Abraham sacrificing his child to God, and finding a ram in its place.

Evangelicals are bent on this tale. They will always preach that god comes before children. That children and their suffering and their needs must always take a backseat to the word of god.

A trans child asking their parents to understand—their words will fall on deaf ears because god and the holy man told them that 'transgenderism' is a vile philosophy that seeks to groom and twist kids. A college freshman debating with their parents about free healthcare and immigration will be stonewalled because the charismatic preacher said that god will provide. god will heal. god did not invite these foreigners into this land.

It is Maria, begging her father to listen and having her pleas fall on deaf ears.

The Abbott is someone I hate more than the Bishop.

Men like the Bishop exist, but they are few and far in-between.

But the Abbott? The Abbott is someone I share a table with at dinner. He's someone I see during family reunions. He's someone who shares misinformation online, and I see it on my timeline because we're social media friends.

I fucking hate him so much and I hope he gets what's his.

He never deserved Tera. He never once deserved Maria.

#netflix castlevania #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #maria renard #tera castlevania #tera #maria castlevania #the abbott #paprikash ramblings

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pynkgothicka · 11 days

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ＫｎｅｅＳｏｃｋｓＫＮＪ

Pairing - Tutor! Dark! Kim Namjoon x AFAB! Reader

Synopsis-Based off Parasite, your korean teacher leaves to go on a work study trip, and leaves you with his best friend to be a replacement teacher. Part 2 of the movies series.

Featuring - Brandon Perea (Angel From Nope)

Word Count - Around 3k

Tags and Warnings - age-gap, manipulation, murder, fingering, tutor/student relationship

Authors Note - As you can probably tell, the stories are majority very loosely based on the stories with me throwing my own twists into it all. Also Joon is a conglomerate of all the Parks (the poor family) into one character! Enjoy:3

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“So you want me to basically be your substitute?”

Namjoon eyed his friend as he ate from the bowl of ramen in front of him. One of his old high school friends, Brandon, stopped by his apartment out of the blue. And of course, Namjoon was embarrassed, the place looked like a dump.

Which is exactly what it was.

A dump.

“Yeah, listen I know you're smart. And I know you need the pay.” Brandon said taking a bite out of his ramen. He used his chopstick to point at Namjoon. “Also I trust you man.”

Namjoon groaned out leaning back into his couch. “Trust me? With what? Don't tell me you got roped into something fucked up.”Namjoon complained. Brandon had that look in his eyes, Namjoon could tell when he was being shifty.

“So maybe I've kind of got something going with the girl, she's sweet, super sheltered, like the perfect girl,” Brandon says leaning back long with Namjoon. “I plan on asking her out when I'm back okay? I just need you to be so you man. All scholarly and shit.”

Namjoon thought about it for a minute. “How's the pay?”

“Around 500 a session. Trust me her family has the money to blow. They want the best and they trust me to have good recommendations. Also, the mom is a bit of an airhead anyway.”

“Fine, you're lucky I need to make rent.”

📖

You sat in your room bored out of your mind. Your mother told you that Brandon had found someone to continue your studies while he was away. You knew your mom was probably annoying the poor man downstairs. She had a habit of talking too much.

Curiosity got the better of you as you found yourself heading downstairs to your lavish mansion kitchen. You sat on the stairs, peering through the railing.

Your new tutor was handsome, slightly built with a buzz cut. He reminded you of men you see in movies, rich CEOs who would fall for their secretaries. Or even a dangerous boxer who has a soft spot for the ballerina.

Lost in your trance, your mom spotted you. “Oh! Sweetheart come down, Mr. Kim here would like to meet you.” You curse under your breath as you stand up and walk the rest of the way downstairs. Almost tripping as your socks slipped on the hardwood floor. You catch yourself walking over to the side of the island.

Mr. Kim looked at you for a moment before smiling. “Please call me Namjoon, Mr. Kim makes me sound old.” He said extending a hand. You take it and give him a slightly firm handshake.

“She'll call you Mr.Kim, respect always remember sweetheart?” Your mom cooed passing you a bowl of pomegranate seeds. You nod towards her as she smiles. “Okay now go study, Mr. Kim is a very smart man by the sound of it. If you need anything call me upstairs.”

You were already walking upstairs with Namjoon following close behind. You led him into your bedroom and sat down at your desk. You pull out the notebook that you and Brandon used. “Sorry if my mom was annoying you, she's ditzy like that.” You mumbled going to the practice test you were doing before Brandon left last session.

Snap!

You jump at Namjoons snapping right in front of your face. “I want you to focus. From what you're mother is telling me she wants you to pass with Korean as a foreign Language for college next semester correct?” You nod at Namjoon. You focus back in on the practice test.

It was a particular problem you stared at, and it was something you couldn't figure out. You were about to circle A but you were stopped by Namjoon grabbing your wrist. “Are you certain that's the answer?” He asks leaning next to you. You shake your head, no, your breathing rising in speed as his hand holds your own in place. “Then why are you answering it?”

“Because it's the next question?” You say your voice peeking as you finish the statement. It comes out like a question and more so it comes out as you being rude to him. You shake your head looking up at him. “Sorry… I mean… it's true I just didn't want you to take it as me being rude to you.”

“Focus.” He reprimands. “Look at the question and think again.” Namjoon let's go of your wrist and you reconsider the answer. It's D. The answer is D. You circle it and look back at Namjoon expecting a response. You're welcomed with a warm smile. “Very good.”

His hand digs into the bowl of pomegranate seeds and he pops one into your mouth. You blush as you feel the tips of his fingers touch your lips and the action in general. Not even Brandon did something that bold. “T-Thank you Namjoon.”

He gives you a warm smile, showing his dimples, something you just caught. “Good, now continue answering the rest of the questions, you don't want to do bad you're first day with me do you?”

📖

Once Namjoon got his pay and started his trek home he realized something. Brandon was right, you pretty much were the perfect girl. Just from one lesson, he realized he enjoyed teaching you something he's become so familiar with.

While he was lost in thought Brandon called him and Namjoon picked it up. “Hey, how was your first class?” Namjoon didn't want to tell him that he was secretly fond of the girl that Brandon liked and that he felt something for her as well so he chose to be as bland as possible.

“It was good. We just kind of reviewed what you guys already went over before.” Namjoon said crossing the street and walking into his apartment complex. He checked the mail seeing that he had nothing.

No one usually contacted him unless it was some bill.

“That's good, is she ok? I know I kind of left on short notice.” Brandon said into the phone. Namjoon hated that he felt indifferent towards Brandon's concerns. It wasn't really like him to see his friends whining about nothing in particular. “God I must've hurt her so bad.”

“I mean if she's hurt she didn't say anything about it, I mean I guess she was nervous,” Namjoon said entering his apartment. “I mean it's nothing bad for her to not be upset. Maybe she'll ask about you later?” God, he hated giving Brandon hope.

But Brandon took it as is. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate you doing this for me. Call you later.” And before Namjoon could even wish him goodbye the phone hung up in his face.

He let out a sigh before pouring a bowl of cereal. He wished you were there for him. You wouldn't have him eating this, you'd probably want him to eat better. Namjoon caught himself thinking in that way and he caught himself. He knew this would end badly. There is no other way it could go.

📖

Namjoon had taught you for about a month now, and you couldn't stop thinking about him. Even now as he sits next to you while you study what he taught you today, you couldn't help but fantasize about him.

You sat with your head down reading over the pages in your notebook. You poked your lip out, hoping he would notice you. It was fruitless of an attempt but you at least had to try.

“Namjoon, have you ever been in love?”

He looks up at you cocking a brow. “What does this have to do with Korean?” You look away at his question, keeping your eyes glued to the notebook. Namjoon takes his thumb and tilts your eyes to look into his own. “Look up here, Answer the question.”

Your eyes look away. “It was a dumb question, I shouldn't have asked it.”

“But you did. Why?”

You let out a sigh before responding. “Well, I was just wondering if you had, you don't have to answer it, I know it's off-topic.” You blabber on, Namjoon letting your head drop.

“Well, yeah of course. I'm 29, and I of course have had a few relationships. But they always just don't get it you know?” Namjoon rests his head in his hand, elbow resting on your desk. “They didn't want to change for the sake of our relationship. I guess I just have a bad taste in women huh?” He ended with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I mean what do you like in women…? I can probably be a good judge of character for you.” You add playing it off as being nice towards him. Maybe if he told you what he liked, you could change to fit his standards. Namjoon seemed to be a perfect man, and maybe you being almost 20 could be perfect in his eyes if you did.

He turned to look at you. “Well, I like my women of course pretty. Smart, shy, well… I mean that's too much already.” He said throwing his hand up to brush it off coyly. You put a hand on his thigh, looking into his eyes as to encourage him.

“Tell me, I want to know.”

“Well, I don't think it matters really. Unless you think that you're right for me.” Namjoon said leaning down to get closer to you. “Are you baby? Are you the right person for me?”

You nodded getting closer, your lips ghosting over his own. Namjoon does the final push, connecting your lips together. His hand goes to your hair, tangling his hand into it. His tongue brushed over your teeth, pushing into your mouth. You were messy, clunky, and unsure of what you were doing. As he pulled away, his chest rose and fell. “Do you think you love me?” He finally asks. “Is that why you asked me if I had ever been in love?”

“Mhmm, you're just so… amazing and wise… I've looked at you since you showed up in the kitchen…”

“Good, I think that you're amazing, and I want to see where this goes, I think you're the right person… the one I've been looking for,” Namjoon said before connecting your lips again.

📖

From that day on, every time you had a class with Namjoon, it was really spent cuddling and enjoying your time with the older man. Laying in bed, you two would usually talk about life, normally letting Namjoon talk and praise you. Maybe it was due to the fact you usually went along with whatever he wanted to do.

Like now.

You dug your nails into his arm, his hand dug into your panties, fingering you. He quieted your moans with his lips, you sitting in front of him, toes curling as they hang off your bed. “Joon…” You whine into his mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible. “It f-feels so good…”

His fingers curled, blunt nails hitting at your walls. “Yeah? Doesn't it feel good to be loved?” He said placing kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey to join new and faded ones. He usually couldn't keep his hands off of you, no matter what, usually liking for his hands to dig into your thighs, thumbs brushing over the top of your knee-high socks. But now he wanted to give you pleasure, something he called a gift since you two were together.

You nodded as you feel your cunt gush around his thick fingers. “Please let me cum… I need it, sir.” You moan quietly into his mouth. Namjoon only liked to be called sir when messing around. He told you that it made him feel empowered and that you being there made him feel so much better than usual. You saw nothing wrong with that of course, isn't that the role of a lover?

“Do it for me, baby, all over my fingers.” And you do, as soon as he says that, you throw your head back on his shoulder. You collapse onto him, Namjoon adjusting it to where you laid on him in bed. He stuck his fingers into his mouth, sucking off your juices. You couldn't help but blush. “You taste amazing, like always.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Are you still going to be able to make it to my party? I know my parents invited you and stuff.” You ask, hand playing with your boyfriend's cheek. Of course, coming from a rich family meant you'd have large parties for your birthday. It's not like you wanted them but, they also told you they invited your tutor who just so happened to be your boyfriend.

Namjoon swatted at your fingers, chuckling a bit. “Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. We just won't pretend to be a thing.” He says. You nod in agreement, knowing your parent's reaction would most likely ruin the party in general.

“Yeah… okay! We should have around 30 minutes left, and I really just want to nap.” You say closing your eyes and laying down your head. Namjoons hand stroked at your head soothing you to fall asleep.

📖

The day had come for your party, and Namjoon couldn't have been more excited. He put on a brand new suit, one he brought with the money he made from his newfound job. As he arrives at the home, he spots that people have already shown up and that it's an outside party at that. Namjoon walked towards the backyard patio, your father setting up a backdrop for pictures.

“Mr, Kim, just the man I wanted to see,” Your father behind raising up to hug the man. “I'm glad you made it, hey can you head inside to grab the champagne buckets? They should be in the cellar in the basement.”

Namjoon nodded. “Yes, of course, I'll be back.” Namjoon makes his way to the back door seeing a table of women who blew kisses at them. He smiled before going inside, taking his phone out to send you a quick text.

Namjoon: Just arrived! Ur dad is already putting me to work lol

Baby🤍: Oh goddd I'll get on him about it.

Baby🤍 Still getting ready though, so just work for him a bit until I finish. Luv uuuu!!!

Namjoon chuckled at your texts as he made his way into the kitchen.

“So when were you going to tell me you started fucking her?” Namjoon put his phone down to look up, seeing no one other than Brandon. He stood at the kitchen island leaning on it, a drink in hand.

“Oh, your back? I thought you'd be gone longer.” Namjoon commented before turning to head to the basement. He wasn't going to deal with Brandon and ruin his girlfriend's day.

That thought was before Brandon shoved Namjoon into a wall. Brandon held Namjoons shirt. “Don't play dumb with me, I went to see her. I was gonna gift her a letter and she said she already had a boyfriend. And I know the only dude she would see constantly was you. How could you? I asked you to do one thing and you couldn't even do that?!” Brandon said, getting in Namjoons face. He whinced, Brandon's forearm resting on Namjoons neck pushing down. There was no way he was going to die this way, not from Brandon's rage.

Namjoon pushed him off, then shoved him down the basement stairs. Namjoon stood there as he watched Brandon fall, head hitting the wood. He waited until the last thud, Namjoon slowly walking downstairs to see what he had just done. Once he reaches the bottom, Namjoon smiles, the sick sight of Brandon writhing on the ground groaning. A puddle of blood formed around him, the impact from hitting the concrete probably giving him a concussion.

The bottom of Namjoons shoes clicked as he made his way to the cellar. He took the metal branding tool used to mark the barrels. The sound of metal shrieked as he dragged it towards Brandon's beat-up corpse. “I'm sorry I have to do this, but you're in my way now. And we can't have that now can we?” Namjoon taunted raising the iron. Brandon's eyes opened slightly as he saw the iron come down on him.

Namjoon felt tears pour down his cheeks as he began to beat Brandon in.He coughed up blood, and Namjoon didn't stop beating Brandon until he was certain he was dead. Once he came to that conclusion he dropped the iron. "Why did you make me do that huh?!" Namjoon yelled at no one. "You ruin everything, god, im happy you're fucking gone."

Namjoon claimed himself wiping his eyes of tears. He got up and grabbed the champagne buckets. He looked back before heading out of the basement, locking the door. He lets out a sigh before leaving, not looking back. He had bigger plans now, and Brandon wasn't in them.

He couldn't be in them.

Namjoons eyes trailed over your form, stopping at your socks as you laughed with your family. Outside the patio, you see Namjoon carrying the ice buckets and wave him over. He smiles at you before signing and returning to his girlfriend who he plans to keep forever.

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33 @devilzliaison

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graceshouldwrite · 11 months

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The Most Powerful Hack to Make Your Readers Cry

You’ve seen it all: show, don’t tell, plant a visceral image in the reader’s brain of the environment/character, write a complex character arc with lots of growth and setbacks, establish deep relationships, high stakes, etc.

All the advice for making readers cry I’ve seen so far is basically that list. But, while those things are absolutely important, I find that the thing that always does the trick, whether as a tipping point or in and of itself, is this:

THE CALLBACK!

Before we move on, this is an ANALYSIS heavy post, so all the book + show examples contain spoilers!!

So, what do I mean by a “callback?” Think of Chekhov’s gun, but, here, you use the gun to pierce your reader’s heart. As a refresher for anyone who needs it, Chekhov’s gun is just a rule in writing that anything you introduce in the book should play some role in the plot.

Specifically, the name comes from the example that if a reader introduces a gun in the first act, it MUST go off later, (maybe, say, in the third act). For example, in the TV show Breaking Bad, the protagonist Walter White prepares a vial of poison (ricin) that he wanted to use to eliminate an opponent early on in the series. After the assassination attempt falls through, the ricin makes an appearance again in the very last episode of the show, when Walt finally uses it to kill another opponent.

Got that? Alright, onto the examples of successful, tearjerking callbacks:

1. The Last Olympian (Rick Riordan); “Family, Luke, you promised.”

Context: The character Annabeth says this line. Years ago, Annabeth had run away from home, and Luke had effectively adopted her into a found family with another kid named Thalia. Common reason for leaving home = parental trauma! Yay! He promised Annabeth that they would be each other’s “family” from now on.

Now: Kronos, the antagonist titan, has possessed the demigod Luke and uses his body to strike Annabeth, injuring her. She’s also holding a dagger that Luke had given her when she joined his “family.”

Significance: her words + the dagger are a mental + physical reminder to Luke of his promise. They force him to recognize the sheer degree of his current betrayal by bringing him back to a different time. The fact that their found family only happened because of parental trauma bringing them together makes it worse—Luke felt abandoned by his Olympian father, Hermes. Now, he realizes that he basically did the equivalent to Annabeth by joining the titans.

2. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo); Jean Valjean’s death

Context: At the beginning of the book, the bishop had caught Valjean trying to steal candlesticks to sell. Instead of handing him over to the police, the bishop told the police that he had given them to Valjean, saving him from arrest and showing him mercy. This changed his life forever, kickstarting his character redemption arc.

Now: Jean Valjean dies surrounded by his loved ones, remembered as a benevolent man who bettered thousands of lives. He’s surrounded by light from candlesticks that once belonged to a bishop.

Context: Valjean had once taken in an impoverished woman named Fantine, showing her mercy and promising to take care of her daughter, Cosette, after Fantine died. Valjean then rescued Cosette from abusive quasi-foster parents (it’s a long story), raising her as his own daughter. This furthered his arc by allowing him to finally understand how unconditionally loving someone feels.

Now: Valjean describes Fantine to Cosette, who never knew her mother.

Significance: Both examples throw readers back to much earlier points in the story before the completion of Valjean’s character arc. In a way, this final scene feels like an external manifestation of his kindness paying off; both he and the reader feels a sense of accomplishment, relief, and just a general “OMG WE MADE IT.” Readers don’t feel cheated, because they were with Valjean every step of his 1,400 page arc. The weight of it all just crashes down on you...

3. Your Lie in April (anime); Kaori’s letter after she dies

Context: Kaori’s entire plot significance is that she helps Kousei, a piano prodigy who can’t play piano anymore due to traumatic parental memories associated with it, play again—but also, just to help him enjoy life again after a turbulent upbringing. She meets him a year before she dies of a medical condition, and her free spirit + confidence influences him to find beauty in life and music again. They basically do a crap ton of crazy funny stuff together lol

Now: Kaori has died, and she leaves a letter to him. Among other general confessions and thoughts, she references things they did and memories they shared: she says, “sorry we couldn’t eat all those canelés,” reminisces about jumping with him off a small bridge into the stream below, “racing each other alongside the train,” singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as they rode the bike together, etc.

Significance: Yes, the nature of the letter is just sad because she’s revealing that she loved him all along, apologizing for not being able to spend more time with him, lying that she didn’t like him (to spare his feelings b/c she knew she would die soon), etc. BUT, these small details highlight exactly how many experiences they shared, and the depth of their relationship. Thus, they emphasize the significance of her death and the emptiness it leaves behind.

4. Arcane (show); “I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I’m different.”

Context: Character Jinx says this in the last episode to her now estranged older sister, Vi. Without going into the crazy complex plot, basically, orphans Vi and Jinx used to care for each other before a bunch of crap went down that got them separated. They then grew up on opposite political sides; Jinx grows up on the side of the underbelly city rebellion, and Vi grows up working on the side of the richer city that essentially oppresses the undercity. Thus begins the development of their opposing viewpoints and work environments, to the point where they always meet on opposite sides of a political battle, never able to come together as a family or understand each other again.

Now: After a super dramatic confrontation, Jinx reveals that although she wants Vi to love her like she did before their separation, she knows it’s not possible because “[Vi] changed too.” She finishes with, “so, here’s to the new us” before blowing up a political council meeting a few blocks down filled with people Vi sides with. Oops! This cleanly seals the fate of their relationship as something basically irreparable.

Significance: This callback isn’t through literal flashbacks or items like in the previous examples. Jinx’ lines are enough to bring back images of their childhood to the audience’s mind. Now, the audience subconsciously places this image of: 1) two sisters so different, hurt, and torn apart, right next to 2) the image of two sisters as innocent children who loved each other and would care for each other no matter what.

Why do callbacks work so well?

If you’ve noticed something in common with all of them, you’re right: they remind audience of a time BEFORE the characters have come so far on their arcs, developed, and put on so much more emotional baggage.

Callbacks force the audience to SUDDENLY and IMMEDIATELY feel the weight of everything that’s happened. The character’s anguish and overwhelming emotions become the audience’s in this moment. Callbacks are a vehicle for the juxtaposition of worlds, before and after significant development.

This works because we, as mortals, fear IMPERMANENCE the most. We fear LOSS. For us, time gone is time we will never get back; callbacks make us face that exact fact through a fictional character. A lost moment, time period, or even part of oneself may hurt as much as losing a loved one, and nothing makes humans grieve more than the realization of a loss. A callback slaps the audience in the face with the fact that something was lost; loss hurts so much because almost 99% of the time, what’s gone is gone forever.

Of course, a good callback requires good previous character development, stakes, imagery, and all that jazz, but I thought I’d highlight this specifically because of how under covered it is.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

I’ve been binging general media lately: I finished Death Note, Your Lie in April, and Tokyo Ghoul all within like a month (FIRST ANIMES I”VE EVER WATCHED!!), reread lots of Les Miserables, analyzed a bunch of past shows like Breaking Bad, watched a bunch of My Little Pony, worked to fix up my old writing... and that’s not even all! The amount of times I’ve CRIED while enjoying the above media and so much more honestly just inspired this post.

Like, no joke, my eyes were almost always swollen during this period whenever I hung out with my friends and it was so embarrassing help

Personally, I just find that this method works super well for me, and I watched a bunch of reaction videos to these above scenes (and read book reviews on the book scenes I mentioned), and it seemed that just about everyone cried during these parts. That’s when I realizes that the callback might also just be a universal thing.

Anyway, this post is long and dense enough as is. SORRY! As always, hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated <3333

Happy writing, and have a great day,

- grace <3

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merakiui · 9 months

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intermission yandere!azul thought: azul thought he lost you when his parents divorced, but a chance reunion during breeding season convinces him of fate. a long-buried love resurfaces and with it the mounting greed and desire.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stepcest, nsfw, female reader, breeding/oviposition, gentle dub-con/coercion, obsession, one-sided attraction in which azul loves you, but you only see him as family, characters written as 18+)

When his birth parents first married, Azul's father had been caring for you, a daughter who had come from another set of parents, found drifting on a lone current. Aged two, you were the sweetest fry his mother had ever seen and she gladly welcomed you into her family. A year later, Azul had been born and you were introduced to him, the both of you coddled and adored by his grandmother and other relatives alike. Your eyes glittered with awe when you peered down at baby Azul, so fragile and small in his mother's arms. A tentacle gently curled around your finger, and he stared up at you, equally amazed, his blue eyes wide with wonder.

Technically, you were his step-sister and he was your step-brother. But at such a young age, you could only comprehend simple family dynamics—the ones in which siblings came from the same mother and were thus related by blood. So, even though you weren't truly related in that way, that's what you were to Azul. He was your little brother and you were his big sister. The distinction in what you were never mattered to Azul. You were his family, and that was more than enough.

Growing up, he clung to you like a barnacle, never wanting to leave your side for more than a minute, a tentacle forever wrapped around your wrist or tail fin. You were inseparable, choosing to rest in the same sleeping nook, bathe together, eat meals together, explore shipwrecks and collect treasure together, and play together. He adored you, looked up to you like you were a miracle incarnate. And in that same loving manner you looked out for Azul, protected him from mean mers, assured him that you'd never leave him when he got sad, and patched him up when his clumsiness earned him all sorts of boo-boos.

Azul thought you were an angel—or something constructed from perfection, anyway. You were brilliant and wonderful, the best big sister he could have ever wished for. Every day felt like the best day of his life when he was with you. Waking up beside you and challenging each other to a race to the kitchen (even though he knew fully well that he'd lose every time). Offering you the spoils from your shipwreck adventures, where he'd drape strands of pearls around your neck and you'd do the same, always one to share. Lounging sleepily at his grandmother's tentacles and listening to her regale the both of you with stories from when she was young. She told tales of her first love, and Azul had boldly pointed at you and declared he'd marry his first love. You. His sister. It was passable then because he was little and couldn't fully understand the meaning of marriage and what it meant to settle down with someone you loved.

Love comes in many forms, and Azul couldn't grasp the differences between platonic and romantic. But back then it didn't matter because to him love was love, and you promised you'd stay with him forever. That was good enough.

But then, years later, his parents got divorced. His father took you with him, and during the process his mother fell in love with her divorce attorney. Azul never saw you again. You moved away, or so he assumed when he'd search the neighborhood for you, deceiving himself that you were still here. You wouldn't leave him. You promised.

He searched all of the places the two of you used to frequent, gradually losing hope with each day. Eventually, when the acceptance letter had come and it became apparent that he had more pressing matters to focus on, he stopped searching altogether.

Azul's older now, freshly graduated and ready to take on the world, but before that he returns to the sea. There are celebrations he must attend; he's expressed his thanks to countless congratulations already, but he doesn't mind the excess. It feeds his ego. His family is so proud, but none can be prouder than his mother, who shackles him in a loving embrace, cooing about how she remembers when he was just a little fry. Though you haven't occupied his mind in years, at the mention of childhood, he instinctively looks for you amidst the many people crowding the restaurant. You're not there. He wishes you were.

There's a lot he has to do as he works to expand the Mostro Lounge. He's purchased a property on the surface. The building is old and dilapidated, but he has a promising vision and lots of time on his hands. He'll make it work. Summer break be damned; Azul's too busy for that. But he can't leave the ocean just yet. He'd put it off with potions for as long as he could, but nature prevails in the end.

Mating season, in Azul's hateful opinion, is a scam. Merfolk exhaust all of their efforts carrying clutches, nursing them for months, before relinquishing them to fate, where it's not guaranteed that any of their fry will survive the harshness of the sea. All of that hard work and for what? The slim chance that one or two will return. Azul knows there are ways to avoid tragedy. Like laying the eggs amidst sea anemones to ward off predators who may not be immune to the sting. Even so, he doesn't understand the appeal of this gamble. Most of all, he despises it because this very gamble is the reason why, without fail, he's forced to suffer through this miserable period of biological imperative.

He gets moody, viciously so, cherishing the shadowed, tranquil loneliness inside an octopus pot. Azul greatly dislikes mating seasons because it's uncomfortable to hold in a clutch for too long, and when he's cursed with one he has no other option but to spend hours curled in solitude, hot and flushed all over, while he squirms through the all-encompassing heat. It passes after he's released every egg, and he tries not to think of what could be if he had someone to take his clutch and care for them. Sometimes he destroys the eggs, crushes them so that, at the very least, they won't become a predator's dinner. It's mostly anger and selfishness that fuel the destruction. He'd never hurt his young, but they won't survive much longer, fated to die within the next few hours. There needs to be someone else. Pairs and whatnot. Mating and bonding and all of that nonsense he scowls at. He doesn't have anyone to complete his pair.

He surmises it will be the same next season. It always is.

Azul is always so sad in the aftermath, coming down from the high to meet encroaching depression. He's a businessman; he won't have time for a family. It's impossible to settle down at this stage in his life. It's too early. Things are just getting off the ground. He tells himself these things so he can focus, but it's so difficult. He wants a family of his own. He wants to know what it's like to be loved and mated. It's not fair that others around him, mers he went to middle school with, are starting families and finding their special someone. He deserves that happiness more than anyone.

Azul is selfish and greedy to a fault, but he's romantic at heart.

Like clockwork, he slinks off to rid himself of this annual burden. On the way to his usual spot, a scent hits him. It's faint at first, but the further he swims the thicker it gets, until it nearly leaves him disoriented with dizziness. He's too dazed with instinct to think about turning the other way, pulled towards the enticing pheromones like it's flashy bait on a fishing hook. It leads him to a deep crack set into the sea floor, too slim for a human to squeeze into. But he's an octopus and it's easy to contort his limbs to fit through. It opens up to a wider space, enclosed and dark, but he can sense another mer in here.

How can he not when your smell is so strong it practically sticks to the walls?

He lights the space with magic, a soft, yellowed glow that kisses your skin like a sweet sunrise. You're curled in on yourself, gripping your abdomen and whining in discomfort. He understands the cue immediately. Your body's ready to receive a clutch, and the emptiness pains you.

Azul has tact, or so he likes to think, and he keeps himself plastered to the far end of the little cave. You sense him then, smelling his own arousal and readiness. Weakly, you lift your head, peering at him through foggy, teary eyes. It's quiet; both of you stare at one another. Azul wonders if you'll reject him, fight him, bite a chunk out of him.

Instead, you force yourself up onto your arms and mutter, "'m sorry... I'll go somewhere else..."

"Ah, w-wait!" Clumsily, his tentacle flashes out, wraps around your tail fin, and holds tight.

You look at him, the haze in your eyes clearing, and you sniff the scent on the water, your brows furrowing. Your eyes slide to the tentacle, and suddenly recognition sparks in your gaze.

"Azul?"

He blinks, his own haze clearing. "Do I know..." He gasps, flinches away from you as if slapped. "(Name)? Is... Is it really you?" His mouth is agape, eyes blown wide. Before you can answer, he hastily adds, "W-Where have you been?! I thought you'd left! Is everything okay? What have you been doing all these years?"

You nod, but he's not sure which question that nod is meant to answer. "I..." You brace yourself against the wall and shudder. "We can catch up later. Right now really isn't..." His eyes trace down your body, stopping right at your slit, which is puffy and slick and not yet claimed. You also don't have a mate. Sensing his intentions, you turn away, shielding yourself. "Now's not a good time...for either of us."

Azul reclaims your tail fin, his grip gentle, coaxing. "It's fine. Please don't leave again... You're in no condition to swim elsewhere. Some brute might take advantage of you."

"But you...have to get rid of your clutch, don't you?"

Quiet descends upon the space. Azul doesn't speak; his scent says enough.

Your eyes widen with horror. "We can't, Azul."

"(Name)—"

"We're family," you whisper, shaking your head at him. "There's no way we can do something like that!"

"But we're not! Not anymore. Mom and Dad aren't together and we've never had a blood relation, so we can—"

You push his reaching tentacle away and grit your teeth. His scent is cloying, muddling the thoughts in your brain. "Still... We grew up together. You've always been my brother, so I can't go home with your clutch." You gasp when another appendage twines around your waist, drawing you closer to the floor. You glare weakly at him. "You're doing that on purpose, dummy..."

Azul flashes his teeth at you, smug. "I don't know what you're talking about, sister dearest."

"Stop. S'not funny..." He squeezes your hips, annoyingly playful, and your body arches itself into his touch. "Azul, please."

Azul creeps closer, his voice a tantalizing murmur. "I missed you so much. Do you know how lonely it was without you? You never visited or wrote. I sat alone at the head of the table every birthday and wished you were there by my side. You promised you'd never leave me and yet... And yet you broke it! You left and I never saw you again! I thought I'd lost you forever."

"You know that's not what happened. I couldn't stay because Dad wanted me to come with him."

"But I needed you more than Dad did!" he exclaims, features twisted with grief. Azul notices your subtle flinch and he swallows thickly, softens his intonation. "I... I needed you the most."

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." Your hands tremble against your nose, but it's futile. His scent surrounds you.

"Sorry isn't enough. You have to make it up to me. For every missed birthday. For every missed holiday. For every second I spent mourning you." Azul pins his body to yours, his tentacles wrapping around your arms to pull them down. He smiles lopsidedly, breathing you in like you're his lifeline. He reaches between you to press his fingers against your slit, and you mewl, squirming beneath him. He marvels at your mouth as it opens and closes, stuffed full with contradiction. "I know it's unbearable. It's unbearable for me, too, but I can help make it feel better for both of us."

"But—haa—your clutch... If you do it inside, I'll..."

His thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips, right at the borderline between scales and flesh. "You'll do fine," he promises. "Remember when you'd reassure me whenever I was scared? Now it's my turn to do that for you. So let me help you. You'll feel good soon."

"We shouldn't. What will..." You gasp and reach for his shoulders by pure impulse, overcome with a searing want now that he's so close. "What will Mom say? Won't she be upset?"

Azul hums his contemplation. Three fingers curl inside your slit, spreading it with ease. You cry out and sink your teeth into his shoulder, restlessly, painfully horny. He suspects you'd have more fight if you weren't already so deep into your heat. Maybe then your bite would have been far more agonizing.

"Then she'd better not find out." One tentacle pats your head. It's meant to be consoling. "For the record, I never saw you as my sister. I meant it when I said I'd marry you. You know that, right?"

You pull away, maw speckled with blue blood and eyes twinkling. He smiles again; you're cute when stained with his color. "Please, Zul..." You hold his face between your hands, yanking him down to your lips. His gills flutter with excitement. "Fingers aren't enough..."

"I know, love. I know."

So he kisses you.

It's heady and sloppy, more dizzying than a tempting bout of pheromones and the slick squelch of his fingers fucking you open. Azul loses himself in the sensations, massaging every inch of you with his tentacles while you throw your arms around him in return. You're coerced into acceptance in a way that's spellbinding, unable to slake the desire that burns within you. He's filled to the brim with euphoria. It's been so many years apart and now you're here with him, stuck in this cramped cave, the both of you ignorant to the hours passing above.

Azul pulls away first. Not for oxygen because neither of you need that, but rather so he can speak instead.

"Promise you won't leave me."

"I won't. I'm here to stay, so please, Azul. Please..." You dig your nails into his back, impatient. "I need you."

He flushes blue up to his ears. "A-And say you love me. More than a brother, okay?"

The tapered tip of a thicker, much larger tentacle presses shallowly into your slit. You moan your relief, rocking your hips in hopes of taking him deeper. Tears line your lashes.

"I love—mmh—love you more than—oh, please—than a brother! Zul, please, I can't take it anymore. Put it in. Please give it to me!"

Azul presses kisses all over your face, unable to stop his growing smile. "I will, angelfish. I won't keep you waiting any longer."

He pushes inside and your tight warmth swallows every inch. He drags you down onto the floor, endeavoring to fit himself to you in the closest way. You fuck like animals, noisy and wet and filthy, curled around one another like a perfect tangle of erotica. In the dimming glow of a fading spell, you capture one other's mouths at every interval, determined to savor every salacious sound. The knots in your stomach tighten and unfurl each time orgasm washes over you, and it's so blissfully mind-numbing that you forget why you were ever opposed to it in the first place.

When the first egg breaches your womb, you thrash and bite, tetchy and unsatisfied. He shushes you, cooing affectionately, petting your tummy and promising to fill it in due time. You try to snarl around another moan, but it comes out choked. He laughs, but it isn't meant to ridicule. And as promised, more eggs follow. Small, round, gelatinous things that they are, Azul knows they'll grow larger and you'll be a full house for the next few months until it comes time to lay.

He can't wait.

You ride out the rest of the eggs in pure ecstasy, so much so that it's a blur, harboring each in the crammed confines of your womb. By the time the final one has found its home inside, you and Azul are thoroughly exhausted and starved. He slips out slowly, draping a tentacle over your extended middle. They're glowing faintly, not nearly as bright to draw predators in, but once you're further into gestation you'll resemble the prettiest star.

"I'll get you something to eat," he says after a minute of untangling himself from you.

Your hand shoots out to seize the tentacle retreating from your rounded belly. "No, stay here."

"You should eat. It's been a while."

"'m not hungry..." As if to mock you, your stomach growls. You plead with your eyes, desperate. "I'll eat later. Please stay here with me. Please?"

Azul considers it, and ultimately he opts to stay. It's safer this way. He'll keep watch, and eventually the two of you will depart for home. Satisfied, you pull him back into the recesses of the little cave to cuddle up to him, your eyelids fluttering.

"Do you think any of them will survive?"

Azul turns to look at you. He remembers the way you used to snuggle with him when you were but little mers, giggling and gossiping over the silliest of things. He smiles fondly at the memory and the sight of you now, soft and gravid and glowing. And all his. Forever his.

"Of course they will."

It's an uncertainty, but he lives to beat the odds. It's in his nature to chase after and achieve the things he covets most. A family is no exception.

"Mm, I hope so," you mutter, trailing off into slumber.

"I'll make sure of it, my love."

In this dimly lit haven, it's just you and him, together as nature intended. He couldn't be more elated.

#meraki mumbles #yandere twst #tw: dubcon #tw: oviposition #tw: stepcest #n/sfw #me: how dare azul ruin my chances at getting basketball floyd!! >:(#also me: *writes smut for him*#i can't stay mad at azuzu <3

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arabellasleopardcoat · 10 months

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Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)

Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

Rquested: Yes!

A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.

“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.

You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.

“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.

Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.

With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.

“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”

“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -

But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.

“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”

And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.

“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”

You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.

“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”

Rhaenyra laughs.

“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.

“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.

“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”

You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.

“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”

You open and close your mouth a few times.

“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.

“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.

“It’s what you deserve.”

She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.

You declare war dressed in black and red.

The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.

“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.

You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.

In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.

“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.

Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.

“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.

“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.

“I do not care what he has said.”

“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.

“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.”

And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.

At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.

“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”

He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.

“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.

“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.

“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.

“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”

“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”

“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.

“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”

“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.

You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.

Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?

Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.

“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”

Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.

But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.

Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.

“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head.

“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.

“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.

“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.

You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.

It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.

And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.

“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.

You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.

She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?

“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.

“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.

“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”

“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”

She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.

It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.

“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.

A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?

“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”

“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.

“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.

“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.

A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.

“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”

You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.

A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.

You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.

You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.

Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.

Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.

As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.

Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.

Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.

“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.

“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.

She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.

Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.

What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.

“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.

Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.

You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.

Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.

And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra the cruel #queen rhaenyra

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seaofwine · 7 months

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What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.

It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha

The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.

Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.

When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.

Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).

He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.

Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.

#odyssey #ask #odysseus #i just really love him ok? ok

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sapphicseasapphire · 5 months

Text

A bit of a redesign for Cryptid Twilight! This is the real one I promise (until I change it again). Everything from the original character sheet is still true, just like… pretend that his outfit is different.

I based this one off of his Ordon outfit since I liked it (seriously, Ordon clothes and Skyloft clothes go SO hard. I would wear them) but I still wanted to keep the green tunic that he got during his adventure. Classic Link stuff. Also I put his hair up so we can actually see his facial markings since they’re very important to his character. If he ever needs to hide them though, he’ll let his bangs fall over his forehead.

More Twi lore under the cut!

In my au, those with markings on their face have the powers of a God. I’m going to make an origin story for him at some point, but in the mean time have this:

• Twi was orphaned at a young age. Like, very young. He was a toddler when he was found wandering the woods outside of Ordon Village.

• No one really knows where he comes from. Or what he is. He acted like a normal child so the people of Ordon didn’t hesitate to take care of him, though it was a shock when he started shifting!

• He has no designated father figure or mother figure. Instead, he was raised communally by the people of Ordon. Loved like a son by every one of them and he loved them all just the same. He’d cycle through their houses until he was old enough to have his own. He’s great with children and animals and has the biggest family of all of the Links.

• He can only take the shape of animals that he’s seen before. So he cannot change his face to appear as a different Hylian or turn into a different cryptid. As a child, he shifted less often because he hadn’t seen many animals to imitate.

• If my understanding is correct, in Twilight Princess, Link turns into a wolf because he is in possession of the Triforce of Courage. This turns him into a beast instead of a spirit like everyone else when he’s forced into the Twilight. And then he’s cursed, stuck in that form for a while before he can meet the spirits and their light. Right? So for my au, the same kind of thing happens. Only, instead of him involuntarily being turned into a wolf, the curse is that he cannot change his shape. And even when the curse is “lifted,” he can only pick between two forms: Hylian or wolf. It is not until the very end that he gets his powers back.

• Midna.

• No one knows how or why he has the ability to shift. They don’t know if he was born or created. If he started as Hylian and then became something entirely different or if he was always a cryptid. But I, as the creator, can tell you that he has the ability to shift because he has the blood of a God in his veins. He is Time’s direct descendant. There’s more to this! But I’ll save it for the origin story. (Whenever I get around to writing it haha)

#my art #fanart #the legend of zelda #linked universe #chain as cryptids au #sapphire rambles way too long #CAC origins #kind of #twilight princess #lu twilight #links meet au

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queenofmalkier · 6 months

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Moiraine being 70 vs 40

(Alright this one took me a minute because corralling my thoughts is a challenge in the best of times.)

To begin with I will admit... I am one of the people who was indifferent towards the age change in the beginning. They're Aes Sedai, they live nice, long lives, and I wasn't like, emotionally attached to a younger, canon-aged Moiraine. It does make her early years more poignant, but I'll touch on that later.

Primed for older Moiraine, the show started and after two seasons I can safely say I am so gung-ho for 70 year old Moiraine I might actually be feral.

Here's why I, personally, think it was an excellent choice: Rosamund Pike is 44 as of writing this, so she visibly fits into the book age. As an audience nobody is really questioning her age - a few show-onlys I watched season 1 with actually remarked on how refreshing it was to see an older female character allowed to just exist and be part of the narrative without trying to sex up and/or grandma-ize the role.

Little Did They Know.

So you've got an audience that's mostly accepting of this character being in her 40s, and then you hit them with "Oh she's 70 and lets explore just how horrific that fact actually is together, it'll be fun!"

It was not fun, it was gutting.

One of my main critiques of the book has always been how we have these long-lived women, powerful women... but we never really take much of a look at the reality of that concept. Nor are we given POV characters who are really old enough to remark on it. Pevara at least thinks about her family, but Cadsuane doesn't give two figs about hers.

And here's the thing... they're Aes Sedai, but they're still human. What happens to them as they get older, but the people who fill their life are the ones aging? How does it feel to watch a mother, a sister, a child, friends, acquaintances, EVERYONE succumb to time in a way you won't for a very long time after?

That has to be impactful and I wanted to see those stories - and the show delivered. Seeing Moiraine with Anvaere? Chilling, horrifying, heartbreaking. Liandrin and her boy? A kick in the teeth. Even Alanna with her family, knowing very well she's probably the oldest one sitting at that table.

The point is, being an Aes Sedai means being powerful and respected, but it also means living through a very specific kind of suffering and trauma. They're basically vampires in terms of lifespan and we should see how that shapes them.

In regards to Moiraine being older and therefore not basically a child during the foretelling, it does change that particular hit... but by no means did the show let the viewers not understand how that moment altered Moiraine's life forever.

Instead of her being sort of an unformed girl hardened and honed by a lifetime of searching for Rand, one who never got much chance to be anything else, we get a woman who was already beginning to build her life, who had achieved the shawl, found love, and was exactly where she wanted to be.

And then all of that is taken from her.

It's devastating to watch the double-barreled whammy of Siuan and Moiraine giggling about being fishwives and walking into what was in many ways their deaths. Because the Moiraine and Siuan they were before walking into that room were gone forever. They would never be able to go back to the women they were before. They never even had a chance to mourn that loss. Moiraine went hunting and Siuan set her sights on the Amyrlin Seat.

I do understand for a lot of people her age is a sticking point, and that is completely fair and valid! It's a change that I fully agree did not need to be made... but by making that change we're given such a stark insight into the lives of older Aes Sedai who are just beginning to experience what it means to outlive everyone they know, watching one by one as cherished friends and family members pass on.

Soon all they have left are the children and grandchildren of those people, fractured mirrors that are just enough of a hint at the original that it must be painful to know them - which explains even further why so many Aes Sedai cut off contact entirely with their families. It's too painful to keep them in their lives.

#wheel of time #wheel of time tv series #wheel of time book spoilers #moiraine damodred #can i make it work responses

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blues824 · 1 year

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Obey me brothers/ side characters with a s/o that is beloved by Diavolo's mother!

Reader is not MC, but is still human, kind of like Solomon. Gender-neutral pronouns are used.

Lucifer

You were probably a part of a noble family

Otherwise there would have been no way that you were known by Her Former Majesty, let alone beloved by her.

He can see the appeal though

You were kind, thoughtful, caring, and best of all: competent

A nice contrast to his brothers

He is a bit jealous that you are very close to Diavolo due to your former closeness with the Queen

But what can he do? He swore loyalty to Diavolo

He did swoop in and steal you when he found out that the Prince had no romantic interest in you

Much like a prince swoops in for the princess

Mammon

Bro first thought that you might have special permissions

And tried to use you because of that

But you weren’t very keen on being used because you were favored by the former Queen.

You actually smacked him for having the audacity

Other than that, you were actually very kind towards him

He definitely gets jealous when he sees how close you are to Diavolo because you were loved by his mother

Though it doesn’t matter because you love him and only him

Plus, Diavolo didn’t harbor any romantic feelings for you, so that was a huge bonus for your beloved demon

Now he can act on his greediness.

Leviathan

As the Commander of Hell’s Navy, he’s probably heard of you and even seen you around the Castle

Bro could definitely see why the Queen loved you, even though you were a human

You were kind, and you made his heart beat so fast

He felt like a total normie for having these feelings, but it’s not like he could do anything about it

If you thought Mammon was jealous, you should see Levi

Every single time he sees Diavolo with his arm around you, he is just sitting there, marinating in the envy he feels

But you think of the prince as a sort of older brother figure instead, so that calms Levi down a bit

Not by much though

You will definitely have to make up for it by cuddling with him, or else he’ll sulk about it

Satan

In some of the Devildom History books, you are mentioned and even in some of the pictures standing beside the late Queen

To many, it was odd to see a human held in such high regard

But he got to really know you since you also attended RAD

And that is how he came to understand why the Queen loved you so much and even favored you.

He will gladly listen to any stories of Her Former Majesty that you are willing to tell him as he loves to learn more and more

However, with being the Queen’s favorite, it means that you are closer to Diavolo

Satan isn’t jealous because it makes sense that the Prince would want to know what his mother was like

There are limits to his generosity

As long as the hugging doesn’t go too far, he’s fine

Asmodeus

Finds it interesting that you were favored by the former QUEEN herself

Really makes a point in emphasizing that whenever he sees you

He will give you a hug and a kiss from behind and tease you saying that you were loved by the QuEeN

You were definitely kind and sweet, so he understands why she loved you so much

Asmo doesn’t really get jealous, but he does get clingy

When you are being very affectionate with Diavolo because you both are like siblings, he wants cuddles and affection as well

It’s honestly adorable to see him out and make grabby hands like a small child

And of course you give in because who wouldn’t?

He feels better right after

Beelzebub

Is also intrigued when he hears that the Queen loved you

He was an angel at that point, so he had never really had a chance to meet her

But over different meals, he will happily listen to whatever stories you have of your time as a noble within the palace

This demon is so soft for you

Every single piece of affection that you show him is something he soaks up

Like a sponge

He doesn’t get jealous either, not even when Diavolo gives you a hug as a greeting

I mean, he does the same thing as a greeting to you

It’s a typical friendly gesture, and he doesn’t have anything against the Prince greeting you in that way

Belphegor

He was very wary of you at first because you are a human

And definitely more wary of you because you were loved by the Royal Family, a group he’s not exactly friendly with

But you were just so nice and kind

It was hard for him to envision you being so close to good-for-nothings

Plus, he had to admit that he was interested to know what kind of person Diavolo came from

When you both visit the Prince’s palace, Belphie definitely gets jealous

Ain’t no way Diavolo had the audacity to wrap his arms around you

However, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

You were closer to the Prince than you were with him because of your connection to his mother, so he just had to deal with it

Diavolo

You always remained close to the royal family, even after he was born

Along with Barbatos, you played a huge role in raising him, even though you were only around 19 years old at the time

Many a night, you would tell him stories about his mother, as he unfortunately never got the chance to meet her

As he grew up, he grew to love you in a more romantic way

In terms of being a demon, you being only 19 years older than him wasn’t that big of a deal

Remember that in the game, these demons are 1000’s of years old while MC is much younger

That aside, he still asks you what his mother was like from time to time

The way he listens with such childlike curiosity is so adorable

But to be fair, he’s adorable 99.9% of the time anyway

Barbatos

The two of you kind of partnered up to raise the young master in his mother’s… absence

Honestly, you both are the reason that Diavolo believes in love

He had exposure to you both dancing in the kitchen and including him in under the guise of training him to dance

Forget the Demon King, because you both became parents to Diavolo

Barbatos had met you when he was employed, and he knew that you two were meant to be together

During some of the more painful nights for the young prince, you both would sit with him and tell him funny stories about his kind mother

As you tucked him in, the butler’s chest felt warm while you placed a gentle kiss on the prince’s forehead

Even millennia later, you both are still as in love as you were back then

Then MC came around, and the chaos begins

Solomon

He was only slightly jealous because you had more of a chance of getting a pact with Diavolo than he did

But you have known the prince for millennia, and you have not made a pact with him

So he then realizes that you do not wish to make pacts with a bunch of demons

You already had the favor of the late queen, and you deemed that enough

Then, you both really got to know each other when he came down for the student exchange program, and you got romantically involved

I don’t perceive him as a super jealous person, but a little bit of green creeps up his throat when he sees Diavolo hug you

The sorcerer understands that you both are like siblings

That doesn’t change anything though because he’s still a bit green with envy

He doesn’t ask you to stop though because that’s not fair

Simeon

To see a human favored by such a powerful demon like the former Queen of the Devildom was very rare, and it had Simeon intrigued

And your soul was still pure, meaning that you have not made a single pact

You could say that this is what attracted the archangel to you

Back in the Celestial Realm, he never had the chance to interact with the Devildom too much and therefore never had the chance to meet with the Queen while she was still alive

Thus, he will ask you a few questions about her

Whenever you visit Purgatory Hall, he gets so excited

But then there’s the matter when everyone gets together and Diavolo greets you with a hug

Simeon isn’t the type to get jealous, but something about seeing his beloved being hugged by another man rubs him the wrong way

Very uncharacteristic of him, and he is even surprised

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nanowrimo · 1 year

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Angst: How to Hurt Your Characters and Make It Count

As a writer, you’re probably familiar with putting your characters through painful situations. But how can we make all that suffering worth it? NaNo Participant Liz Generally has some advice on how to write effective angst! Arabella K Federico said, “Write pain so effectively, your readers will be begging for it to end.”

When you find yourself emotionally invested in your characters, hurting them can feel outright wrong. But sometimes, for the sake of your story, you just have to push them off the cliff (metaphorically or physically!)

Make it hurt. Dig deep, and reach into the darkest pits of emotional and physical pain. Give your readers a reason to break for your character. There are a few methods you can use to do this.

1. Physical Pain

Pain is a powerful motivator. It can cause people to act out of character, lash out, create out-of-character emotional outbursts or realizations, or show previously unknown care. This can also make your character more relatable to your readers. Pain doesn’t just affect the person experiencing it!

2. Mental or Emotional Pain

What is your character’s worst fear? The nightmare that keeps them up at night? Are they afraid of losing someone close to them? Are they terrified of leaving someone behind? Use that to heighten the consequences of a scene. Characters who experience intense emotional or mental pain become more real to your readers, especially if they have experienced similar mental or emotional pain.

3. Spiritual Pain

Although spiritual pain generally results from either physical, mental, or emotional pain, it can be a very effective method to hurt your character and create angst. How can you make your reader question their faith or lack thereof? If they are very spiritual, can you make them believe their god or deity doesn’t exist? If they don’t believe in a deity, can you make them believe in one? Spiritual pain can be the most excruciating to read when done well.

So how do you amplify the pain? What can you use to make the pain more graphic, intense, and palpable?

1. Dig deep into your own personal experiences.

Using your own pain as inspiration will help you ensure that what you’re writing is authentic and raw. Chances are, at least some of your readers have experienced something similar.

2. Use words that evoke not only emotion but physical sensation.

If you are struggling to write a specific scene, outline it. Write a list of each of the five senses and a list of all of the thoughts that your character might feasibly think. You should write at least one or two from each sense, and a few thoughts (if your chosen point of view allows for it) into the scene to create a full sensory profile.

3. How does your setting affect the pain you’re writing into the scene?

If your character is in love with someone, and the angst happens at a wedding, what is happening around them to increase the pain they feel? Is their love interest marrying someone else? What are they feeling or seeing that could make that pain worse? Is the song playing a song they imagined dancing with them to at their own wedding? Does the wedding look like the one they always imagined having with them? Are they standing beside them trying to pretend they don’t wish with every fiber of their being that they were the ones getting married?

Angst doesn’t have to be physical. It does have to connect with your reader. When you use multiple types of pain, utilize your own experiences, use all of your senses, and your setting to its full potential, there are unlimited ways to create angst that will have your readers begging you to put your characters out of their misery. Have fun hurting your characters!

Liz Generally is a romance author, wife, and mother to two girls and two dogs living in Oklahoma City. Liz is passionate about helping people and raising awareness for congenital heart disease. When she isn’t writing, she can be found spending time with her family and friends, volunteering, crafting, or cheering on her favorite hockey team. Liz is the author of Never Gonna Let You Fall, Alpha Mine, Blood Dreams, and Through The Flames all available on Kindle Vella. Photo by Abigail on Unsplash

#nanowrimo #camp nanowrimo #writing #writing advice #writing angst #by nano guest #liz generally #angst #characters

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lady-ashfade · 2 years

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Yandere house of the dragon x Hybrid Dragon reader.

Yandere house of the dragon x female reader.

Part two here.

Plot/notes: Most of the characters will be platonic, war with the characters will take place but rhaenrya will be queen but most of the things that happen in the show will not take place. Also in this jace is only one year younger then the reader and aemond. The only mention of the readers appearance are: Golden eyes, red scales. All the adults are platonic but there will be romantic interests, this is just some headcanons, drabbles about how it would go down.

Also would like to give credit to @missglaskin because their whole page gives me inspiration! So go read everything you can and give them a follow! You can ask about different outcomes and share ideas.

This story will continue

I have not read the books so this might not be accurate, but I’m just here to share my thoughts.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, blood, reader in pain, misspelling, idk what to say.

The first time the king Viserys laid eyes upon you it was like the sevens holy voices could be heard. He could recall a distant dream of his when he saw your face, the little face that would mean a great deal to him and the realm. But quickly anger struck his chest when he realized what was happening.

A child not even the age of two with dirt covering its face while being locked behind a cell like some rabid beast, the harden cradled you cried wasn’t comfortable looking, nor was the way it felt. You had be found by a village on their daily fishing hunt, being not a day over one to be exact. Small patches of scales could be seen on your arms.

When your teary eyes looked at him, he knew he had be blessed.

The queen stood beside him and the sting of guilt and pity hit her, how could someone keep a baby locked in a cage. She felt like it was her own kin, her son aemond being of the same age.

Viserys yelled at the person who found you and made them open the cell, taking you in his arm and rocking you back and forth. Your cries seemed to lessen at his comfort. He claimed to take you in as his own, saying it was your birth right since you had blood of a dragon. Alicent was the second to hold you, the way you tiny finger held onto hers she knew she was the mother you needed- She was your mother.

Leaving the village behind in ashes and blood behind them, calling them traders and savages for locking you up. No one was ever going to harm you again.

The next to welcome you into the family was Rheanrya and Laenor.

Rheanra quickly took you into her arms from the queen who didn’t want to let you go, but Viserys said it was good for you to meet your sister. She bounce you in her arms, saying how beautiful you were with your golden eyes and red small scales. She walked over to Leanor and he was smitten by you, knowing in his heart that we would protect you. Alicent watched them closely with rage, like you were something that was going to be taken away from her. But she was not going to lose you.

“I think she can sense the baby.” Rheanrya pointed out how you seemed to touch her belly and snuggle close to it. “It seems so.” Viserys agreed with delight at you being so welcoming, but Alicent just stayed silent at how you giggled so sweetly in rheanrya arms, she wanted to pull you away.

The next you meet was Aegon, he wasn’t as happy about the news of a new sister but he was only little. But as soon as he saw you his eyes light up and he reached out to you, he would even show you his small toys.

Then there was Helaena, still being young she would only watch you curiously, touch your scales and babbling words no one could understand. But she was happy to be around you, just your present calms her down.

Being the same age as aemond made it hard for anything to happen, but he was already showing signs of obsession. He constantly has to be in the same room as you, if you are taken out of the room he will cry at the sight. He is at ease in your presence just as his sister, but everyone suspects he sees you as his twin.

Alicent raised you like her own and so did Viserys , she was over joyed how quickly the children saw you as one of their own. She always worried about the future with you at her side, no one knew what your species could do. So she was over protective.

Otto was a little hard to come around. The king calling you his blood child was bad enough as it is, but burning down a whole village was idiotic. He wouldn’t meet you no matter how much his own daughter begged, he saw you as a plague. One that could pull their targets in with their presence and then kill them when giving a chance.

But one night as Otto came to say goodnight to Helaena his eyes meet yours, golden eyes that looked like dragons. His mind clouded with the screaming saying to protect you at all cost. That’s when he became your grandfather, you and helaena being his favorite. He loves you and would do anything for you.

After three years.

You grew to love little jace. He was a year younger then you, him three and you four. He clings to you with every step and always with you anytime he can be, this making everyone else jealous.

Aegon was mischievous, he liked to leave anytime he could and pull pranks on everyone. He was your big brother and constantly taking you with him, he was fun to be around. He let you join in on his pranks, sneaking cakes for you and anything to make you smile.

Helaena like you to sit with her while she told you about insects, you always asked her about them which made her so happy. You even went out of your way to catch them for her. She loves you. She would have matching dresses, having her hair match yours, also you were the only one she wanted to touch. You could hug her and she’d smile, or she would hold your hand and walk around.

When Lucerys was born you were one of the first people to be welcomed into the room. You waited outside rhaenryas room while she gave birth and it frightened you but you got over it quickly at seeing the little baby. You loved him and always asked to see him at any hour, or hold him while you sat down. He loves being in your company and always stared at you with curious eyes. He always held your finger in his little hands just like you did when you were at that age. You and his mother were the ones he cried for.

As aemond grew by your side, he thought of you has his twin sister. Despite having different features, hair and looking nothing alike. Maybe he didn’t have a dragon, but he had you. You had scales like one, eyes to so you were his dragon in his eyes. He believed that you were sent down to him, a blessing from the gods just for him. He was also every protective, he would follow you and hold your hand. He hated jace for bullying him and that he you away from him at times, he was jealous of anyone that wasn’t his mother or other sister.

The day had come where Daemon Targaryen and his wife Lady Laena and their children had come to visit. This was the first time they had been able to meet you and daemon took interest as soon as he heard about you four years ago.

Daemon did fell a bit shocked when he hears his brother taken a daughter who had no Royal blood or his own, or even his wife’s. Not to mention no one knows who your real parents are. But when he found out you had features of a dragon his interest was always lingering in his mind.

The first time Daemon saw you his body was taking over by possessiveness, he saw you as his blood. He wished he had gotten to you before his brother and Alicent did but he will just have to deal with it…For the time being. Everyone kept a eye on him as he picked up up and refused to leave your side, being the cool uncle he is he would tell you stories and take you to meet his dragon.

It has been two years since then. And now it being a month since you had turned six.

It was a beautiful day, the perfect temperature and the light breeze shaking the leaves on the trees. The only thing stopping this from being a peaceful day at court was the high pitched screams mixed with screech’s of a dragon. The maids and knights rushed to alert the king of what they had find in the gardens.

Your small frame crouched down as the tears and cries only grew louder, the skin on your back began to move underneath and blood seeped through your dress. The maids tried to get close to you but you moved back not wanting anyone but your family. What was strange was not only your cries, but the dragons in the pit could be heard. You screamed for everyone- Anyone that would come for you, you just wanted the pain to stop. It was the most pain you had felt in the small years you have been alive, you had wondered if this was the pain you had been told about from every woman.

“Where is she?” You heard your father scream as he came around the corner of the rose path, Alicent rushing quickly behind him in panic. They stop immediately at what they saw. You gripped onto your dress as you looked at them with a wet face. Behind you stood a set of red and golden wings, small set of dragon wings fit for a baby dragon. “Y/n.” Alicent quickly moved towards you seeing the pain you had went through and the blood. She took you in her arms carefully not to hurt you anymore while you cling onto her.

“My sweet girl,” Viserys was filed with pride and praised you for being so strong, he wasn’t looking at it as you were in pain but that you had gained something wonderful, “She will be a fine warrior.” He took you away from alicent and showed most of everyone that past just how wonderful your wings were. Alicent had to beg him to take you to a master seeing you still flinch at the pain but tried to hide it for Viserys.

As you had calm down and patched up, you learned how to love your wings and retreat them back into your skin. It was painful but it felt better to sit down without them. As you laid in alicents lap the next person to walk in was rhaenrya.

You smiled and hugged her while being happy they both were there with you but they didn’t see it like that. The glares Alicent sent rhaenrya was threatening but she gave it back. “She needs to be careful.” Alicent stated. “I agree but she also needs to learn how to control it, best do that with the help of me.” They didn’t want to fight in front of you but it was all said in their eyes, no words.

A few days after your recovery the children were aloud to see you but they couldn’t touch yours back. Both mothers stand in the room for it just to be safe, Alicent didn’t trust rhaenryas kids around hers.

Luke was the most excited one, jumping up and down while asking questions. He would praise you for it saying just how awesome you would be when you grew, he did beg you to show him your wings but he was shot down by his mother.

Jace held your hand and told you how much he missed you in the time away, also sharing his thoughts of how much he grew sad hearing you where hurt. He would also tell you how cool thought it was that you had wings, saying he can’t wait till you show him.

Aegon was making a joke about it but in a nice way. Saying how when you grew older you could probably kill people with them and become a great warrior. He did like the thought of having you around to protect him and be at his side- When no one else was there for him, you would be.

Helaena was calm by your side and told you everything she saw of your scales and wings and related them to insects. She didn’t yell or beg to see them but you could see the tint in her eyes of wonder at what she imagined your wings would look like

The twin girls Baela and Rhaena, comforted you. Knowing how much pain you were in was sad and the girls cried when they first found out, being on the younger side they saw you as a older sister. They loved you so much, they brought you gifts and offered to do anything you wanted to do for the next month.

Aemond saw this more of a sign at just how amazing you truly are. The dragon that was sent to him in his time of need when he had no dragon to claim. His twin flame, his to protect. He would ask you if you were in any pain and holds the hand jace was not and ask if he could see them once you could. The praise he gave you was overwhelming to say the least but he was also worried about if your body could handle it. He blamed himself for not being with you when they came out. But he was here now and forever…

Otto spent time with you when you where recovering, reading you some stories and made sure to make you smile at least once. He would tell you how much you are worth of your abilities and everything. He knew that he could now use you on his side when you grew older and he will help guide you on a good path.

Daemon was the first to suggest they fly across the sea to see if they can find someone to train you. He also suggested that you start training as soon as you recovered but Alicent didn’t want you to, something rhaenrya agreed on saying you should wait until they know more.

And as time went on your powers grew along with you, not knowing much was a faint memory. But war was on the horizon and with you was the center piece.

#yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere jacaerys velaryon #yandere alicent hightower #yandere rhaenrya targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader#viserys targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenrya targaryen

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