#my apologies if i missed something crucial

[frankengrlz]

it's immediately clear that both the creature and victor find some of their greatest comforts in nature and that's one of the key features that connects them and proves they're not so different from each other, but i've also noticed that they tend to admire different TYPES of nature

victor tends to amaze at "the high and snowy mountains [...] immense glaciers [...] the rumbling thunder of the falling avalanche [...] the supreme and magnificent mont blonc" (65), typically finding the most comfort in the "savage and enduring scenes" (64) which tend to be colder and rougher yet unchanging; while the creature found that his "chief delights were the sight of the flowers, the birds, and all the gay apparel of summer" (94). there is probably something to be said about the creature's affinity for spring and summer, the seasons of rebirth, of NATURAL and beautiful life, a direct contrast to his unnatural, coldly scientific, "wretched" rebirth that he abhors so much

i was discussing this idea with a friend, who added that victor finding solace in the frozen and dead beauty of wintery environments, a typically less-favoured season, could reflect how victor often refuses himself the typical joys of life. throughout the novel, he struggles with his self-worth because of the guilt induced by his creation of the creature and the deaths that then followed, and the only reason he even desires peace and comfort is because he knows he needs to present himself that way to his family in order for them to be happy ("i [...] wished that peace would revisit my mind only that i might afford them consolation and happiness" [62]). i built on her idea by noting how the creature acknowledged that he "required kindness and sympathy; but [he] did not believe [him]self unworthy of it" (94), a completely contrasting stance from victor, who finds himself undeserving of the many comforts offered to him by his family

furthermore, it seems that victor finds beauty in glory & majesty ("[the scenery] spoke of a power mighty as Omnipotence--and i ceased to fear, or to bend before any being less almighty than that which had created and ruled the elements" [64]), while the creature finds beauty in warmth & growth. both characters seem to find what they desire(d) in the versions of the natural world that they admire most

to reference what i said in the beginning about the connections between victor and the creature, this observation only contributes to my understanding that victor and the creature are incredibly similar, and many of their identical traits involve a rejection or a reversal of the other; they both ardently wish for each other's destruction, they both ruined each other, they're the reason that the other is simultaneously a victim and a villain in their own sense, they both hate themselves but for reversed reasons (victor hates himself for what he's done rather than what he is, while the creature hates himself for what he is more than what he's done), and now this--they both find solace in nature, just opposing kinds. like father, like son

#if any of my friends see this #hiii #my apologies if i missed something crucial #i hope this makes sense. maybe it doesn't #maybe i didn't make any points at all! or maybe this is already well-known information #frankenstein #frankenstein the modern prometheus #mary shelley #mary shelly's frankenstein #classic lit #classic literature #gothic lit #gothic literature #frankenstein a new musical #literary analysis #victor frankenstein #frankenstein's monster #frankenstein's creature #adam frankenstein

[moondrop-writes]

Hiiiii! I hope you’re doing well! If possible could I get an Apollo x wife!reader scenario where like he always promised he’d never cheat and stuff cause he only ever had eyes for her but then she finds out about Will and is really upset until she meets him and thinks he’s super cute (in like a motherly way off. Bonus points if she used to be with Ares before he started dating Aphrodite and so that’s why she was so upset cause she felt like it was Ares all over again even if they’re still good friends)

Sorry if this is too specific or confusing or something 😅

i love TOA Apollo, and while i've never been really sure how to write the POV of a god, i think this is pretty fair considering his in-universe persona written by Rick. thank you for the request and no worries about specifics! also, my apologies if this is super long lmao

You wiped your wet hands onto the rag by the kitchen sink as the dishes you had just washed dripped. Normally, you'd dry them as well, but you were running low on time, and you didn't want to miss a crucial part of the night in order to fix little details like that. Smiling to yourself, you folded the rag and hung it up by the sink again.

The oven timer beeped just in time for you to get your apron on, and you grabbed your mits in order to safely pull the tray out of the oven. You placed it on top of the stove, the scent of the warm turkey filling your nose. Usually, you'd preserve such a thing for a holiday, but today might as well be one.

Tonight, was the night Apollo visited you once more, after several months in his human form trailing after some young girl, he seemed to take a liking to. Now he was immortal again and could see you after all that time apart.

You'd seen him within the first month at some point. You couldn't do anything though, because that wasn't him. It could very well be, but it wasn't. Lester was average, but it wasn't Apollo. You didn't want to sound shallow thinking that, but there was nothing connecting the god of the Sun to some fake New York teen.

And it'd been too long since then. He said it was for your safety, but you knew it was just because he couldn't stand for you to see him like this. You could tell by the way he walked that he was just as uncomfortable with his new body as you were. He looked like a baby deer, stumbling on tiny legs as it struggled to learn how to walk.

That was not your Apollo, your Apollo was graceful with a flashing smile that sent gusts of warmth up your arms. But his looks weren't all that appealed to you so many years ago. He might've been vain, but he was lovely too. He cared for mortals as the great Titan Prometheus had, and everywhere he walked seemed to cheer someone up.

He was rather dependent on his looks, but around you all that seemed to shy away. It was just you, mortal flesh and human blood, and him, golden blonde hair and a blinding smile.

In your head, you tended to akin Apollo to a star. Despite being one of the oldest Olympians, he seemed so much younger. His sister, Artemis seemed so much more serious and mature, and Dionysus had also seemed to understand his duty more seriously. Being the god of the Sun was more habit than it was a job to Apollo.

While the gods floated and stayed still in their palaces, Apollo roamed around. Each day when he rose and ran the sun, he saw places he might've otherwise missed. Everything wondered him, whether it be a small cave in Taiwan or a forgotten shore in Australia.

Stars were small, surrounded by dozens of other stars and radiating their heat and charm. You thought that summarized Apollo pretty well.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts.

Startling, you jumped up, rushing to untie your apron and hang it up in the hallway. In nothing but a pair of over washed jeans and a loose beige t-shirt, you pulled the door open, and finally felt like you could breathe again for the first time in months.

There Apollo stood, bronze skin and gleaming hair, a suspiciously bright red Camaro sitting in your driveway.

"Y/N," he breathed, voice as soft as a deer's mewl.

"Apollo," you answered, and leaped forward. He caught you easily, as he had always done, and pulled you close. Your fingers clasped behind his neck, grasping onto blonde curls.

His own hands found your hips, fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to tug you forward. His nose was buried in your hair, and he pressed repeated kisses to the crown of your head.

He was dressed in his godly attire, bands of gold, an airy white tunic, and gold sandals. He looked like a supermodel next to you, but he held you as if you were true treasure.

You pulled back for a moment, only to pull his head down so his lips could meet yours, pressed together in a locking kiss.

It could've gone on forever, but mortals needed air, and you pulled away to breathe. With your chest heaving, he smiled at you as if you'd hung the stars. One hand lifted to cup your cheek and cradled your face.

"I love you," he said, voice soft and almost weak sounding.

"I love you too," you said, pressing your cheek to his chest. You felt something break in you when you heard the slow beat of his immortal heart. It was like a dam that finally crashed.

Your eyes filled with months' worth of tears and you hiccupped wetly against his skin. "I-I missed you so-so much..." you sniffed, trying to calm down your rapid breathing, "don't ever do that again!"

He gave a small rueful laugh and wiped at your tears. "I'll try," he said, and that was enough.

The two of you went inside, and he familiarized himself with everything again. You ate dinner, with soft talk of what'd you'd been up to the past few months. He was unusually quiet and kept glancing out the window to the sky as if it were going to disappear.

He followed you back to your bedroom and changed into some clothes that had been sitting in your dresser for months, awaiting him. You were in the bathroom attached to your room, combing your hair as he sits on the bed watching you.

You placed down the comb with a small clattering sound and turned to him. Your palms were flat on the countertop.

"What's up with you? You're...quiet," you ask, biting your lip. He blinks and runs a hand through his hair before standing and striding over to you.

He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in your neck. "Sorry, I... I've got a lot on my mind..." It was weird seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. Even before, when he would melt in your hands like putty and show his true self as a soft sweet husband, he was never uncertain. Not around you, at least.

You take his hands in yours and press a kiss to the inside of his palm. "Then confide in me. I'm here, and I don't plan on leaving."

He looks away and you recognize the expression easily.

Shame.

"Apollo," you say, a bit uneasily.

"Yes?"

"Tell me," You urge. He hides his face in the flesh of your neck again and presses a kiss to your nape.

"I made a promise, a while ago, and I broke it," he admitted, and you scoured your mind for a time where he'd done such a thing.

You held his hand, the new ring gleaming on your finger. Under Apollo's sunlight, it shone like a star in the night sky, but not even it could compare to the light of his smile.

He kissed your forehead, and said, "No demigod kids, I promise. Not even yours."

You laughed and swatted at his arms. "Be serious," you huffed, "and thank you."

"Mhm," he hummed, smiling against your temple.

Instinctively, you pushed him back, second-guessing your strength and gasping when he banged into the doorframe. He winced and held a hand to his shoulder blade.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. "How old? No--how many? How--how could I have been so stupid?"

"Y/N..." he tried, voice breaking halfway through your name. It didn't matter, you were louder.

"No, answer the question!"

He closed his eyes, face twisted with distain as he cowered. The god, Apollo, cowering to the wrath of mere mortal.

He breathed in to steady himself.

"Five."

Your face contorted into one of anguish, then horror, then anger.

You cared not for the pained expression on his face when you pulled off your wedding band and flung it at him. He caught it and held it to his chest. "For fifteen years I thought you were loyal! But no. Did those years mean nothing to you? Could you have not waited another century for me to pass? God!"

You ran a shaking hand through your hair, and felt disgust rise within you.

"Please," he begged, but you were having none of it.

"Out!" you shrieked, "get out!"

He obliged, leaving you to fall to the floor, sobs falling from your lips.

It went like that for a while. A few weeks, you think. He tried, multiple times, but you didn't want to listen. How could you have thought he loved you? All those years of lies.

You didn't want to think about him. So, you didn't. You blocked all thoughts of Apollo out. That was until you were sorting through your mail and found one from a sender you weren't familiar with.

From, Will Solace, sent by Hermes Shipping & CO. to Y/N L/N

Curiosity taking over, you opened the letter, and began to read.

Dear, Y/N!

Hello, I'm sure my father has given you quite the issue, and I must say your anger is justified. I have not come to defend Apollo's actions but assist yours. I'm Will Solace, a half-blood son of your husband, my dad. He's been whining a lot at camp, but It's easy to tell how much he misses you. The whole time he was mortal he wouldn't stop talking about you. He claims that he's tried to talk to you, but you keep shutting him out, so I decided to take things into my own hands. You have all the right to ignore this, but I have a feeling you won't. As you're well aware, my father has had multiple demigod children since his marriage with you, which is wrong no doubt, all of my siblings agree. But I don't think he's talked to my mother once since my birth, and Austin said he hadn't seen him before camp since he was four, so, I think it's safe to assume he hadn't cared much for our mothers. But he did care for you. I know my dad, and I know how he used to be all those years ago, which kind of concerns me for you, but I'll stay quiet about that. If he stayed with you this long, then he plans to stick it out. I truly believe he cares for you, and if so, I'd like to meet you. If possible, please come to XXX cafe at 1:30 next Friday.

With care, Will Solace.

You didn't realize you were crying till teardrops were dripping off your cheeks.

With a racing heart, you walked over to the calendar. The letter had been later than probably intended, which meant next Friday, was actually tomorrow.

So, it came to the question of whether or not you would go.

You missed Apollo so much. He was right there, and you could hold him and have him as much as you wanted, but you pushed him away. You let your anger blind you, however justified it may be, and ran from the man that loved you most.

Then it was decided. You'd go. You'd meet Will, and you'd force Apollo to apologize.

Now that you were there, waiting outside the cafe anxiously, the plan didn't seem so fool proof. You flattened down the fabric of your summer dress and ran your hands along the strap of your purse, eyes searching for anybody that may resemble Apollo.

Will isn't hard to find, and like his father, the world seems to center itself around him when he's near.

His hair is blonde and curly, just like Apollo's, and falls over his ears and hangs just above his eyes. Piercing blue find yours, and sun-kissed skin shifts to show a blinding smile. You'd expected them to look similar, but not near identical.

He runs over, wearing a pair of shorts and a nice t-shirt, hand raised in a wave. He stops a few feet from you and holds out a hand.

"Will Solace, it's so nice to meet you. Apollo talks a lot about you," he says, eyes bright and cheery. You were sure you would've thought he was annoying if he was anybody else but knowing that this was Apollo's kid (your stepson? No, that was a weird thought) made it sort of endearing.

You found yourself smiling back as you took his hand.

"You mentioned," you say, clasping hands, "I'm Y/N."

"Let's go inside, shall we?"

Turns out, Will is very likeable. Every word is filled with genuine joy, and he listens intently. You can see the resemblance in looks, but he must get this side of himself from his mother. His nose twitches when confused, and his ears go pink when he's embarrassed.

You think it's cute, the way he opens himself up so easily to you. He finds hidden motherly qualities in yourself, that you weren't even sure you had.

That's how you find yourself inviting him to your house, where you fixed him some lemonade and grabbed some cookies from the pantry for the two of you to snack on as you sat on the porch.

Will finished his previous sentence, placing down a half-empty glass of lemonade. His brows are furrowed, and his usual smile is set in a deep frown. You wanted to rid him of it, and ease away any worries, as a mother should.

"Y'know, growing up without Apollo was hard, but I managed. It was my mother that was difficult. She was distant, hardly there. To be fair, she's famous, but it was still hard. She never made cookies--or made me lemonade. I... you're everything I wished for her to be."

When you stayed quiet, staring down at your lap, he stuttered to correct himself. "I'm sorry if that's weird---I, well, --" you tugged him close, cautious of the food.

He was pressed up against your side, and as soon as his skin met yours he melted, and let you hug him close and warm.

"It's not weird."

"Are you sure?" he said, voice quiet, unsure. It was the same tone Apollo had used.

"Certain."

He pressed a bit closer. "I feel like a baby," he laughed, "fifteen-years-old and I'm being held like a toddler."

"It's always good to be held sometimes," you say, rubbing your hand up his arm. He sniffed, and you didn't have to look down to know that he was holding back tears. How had the tone shifted so quickly?

"I'm sorry," he says, voice thick with emotion. He moves to get up, ears tinged pink, "I shouldn't be doing this. You're not even my mother--"

"Stop it. Calm down and relax."

He does, only after you have to forcibly tug him back down. He settles down next to you, and takes deep breaths to push away the tears in his eyes.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there, but your legs are beginning to cramp from being in the same position and Will is letting out soft snores against your collarbone. The sun is sinking into the horizon, and you try not to jump when he speaks.

"You're good with him," Apollo says, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

You frown, "you say that like he's a dog."

He looks away and shrugs, "I'm not good with kids, you know that."

"Neither am I," you huff, and your arms tighten around Will.

"I think Will has a different opinion."

"We all do," you say, and look down as Apollo gets closer. He settles beside you and whispers his next words.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do to please you anymore."

You close your eyes and sigh. "Just--stay, okay?"

He nods, "okay."

And he does. Apollo sits there until the sun is gone, his chin on your head, and arms holding both you and Will firmly. You're asleep before you know it, and he's hoisting you both up to bring you inside.

He places Will on the couch with a light blanket, before bringing you to your bedroom. He lays you down, and presses a feather-light kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he whispers, hand holding yours.

Unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his, and he beams.

#apollo #greek mythology #apollo x reader #Apollo x reader pjo #x reader #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #moondrop writes #pjo hoo toa #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #fluff #will solace #motherhood

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

The Good Queen (Part 3)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Angst. Time-skip. Happy ending. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Blood & Gore. Grusome death.

Word Count: 7,011

Taglist: @gruffle1​ 

Summary: A look into Queen Y/n Hightower’s life is busy and full of love and family. But something else lingers in the dark, waiting for her.

Author’s Note: Laena still dies but under different circumstances and Aemond claims Vhagar honorably. Rhaena and Baela do not exist so everyone is proud of Aemond by his accomplishment and he doesn’t steal the right to Vhagar from anyone.

Part One - Part Two

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

130 AC

So much to do with so little time to enjoy the beautiful day, Queen Y/n Hightower makes her rounds about the castle after breaking her fast. As usual, she walks gracefully down the long hallways and winding staircases, entering the throne room to extend her greetings to her husband before starting her day. She climbs the stairs to the Iron Throne and leaves a kiss on Viserys lips before briefly exchanging their morning agendas. As usual, they speak mostly of their children. The Queen speaks of the planned events for Helaena's upcoming name day while the King mentions the many lords who have reached out to him to ask for Helaena's hand. Y/n appeared hesitant but further asked her husband to send these letters up to her chambers when he has the chance so she might look into these suitors as well.

"They may try to woo her during the celebration," he warns her lightheartedly, "Best to warn her so she is not overwhelmed."

"I shall," Y/n stands from her seat on Viserys' knee, cupping his face in her hand before she makes her departure, "I'll see you at supper."

"Hm. I'm afraid I have to take supper in the Small Council meeting tonight," the King smiles apologetically, "But you are welcome to join. I could use your sharp eyes on the matter of the meeting."

"Not tonight," Y/n sighs at the idea of another council meeting. They appear to be more crucial than naught these days, "If it would please you, my love, allow me to rummage through all the letters of liege lords addressing Helaena's hand. I'll invite Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent for supper tonight in my apartments and use their opinions to narrow down the pool of suitors."

"Excellent idea," Viserys beamed, quickly grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles before she could turn away, "I wish you luck."

She descends the Iron Throne and exits the throne room, nodding to her ladies-in-waiting when she found them still in the spot where she had left them. They dutifully follow her as she expertly navigates through the long hallways of the castle, bowing her head and smiling whenever someone stopped and bowed to her in greeting. She stops in the training yard before all else and immediately spots Ser Criston Cole overseeing a training session between Aegon the Elder and his cousin, Jacaerys Strong. She glides down the steps and makes her way to the sworn shield, "What shall they be learning today, Ser Criston?"

"Mostly defensive maneuvers, Your Grace," Cole bows, but is unable to draw his eyes away from the fight in case he missed something, "Aegon has improved since his return from Oldtown. Do give your lord father my compliments. Whoever he had training the boy during his stay must have been quite exceptional."

"I shall," she finds herself repeating a second time, to her inner amusement. Her shoulders began to feel tight with the reminder of Otto Hightower.

When he first started writing letters to his eldest daughter, it was to reach out and learn about his grandchildren. Y/n should have felt relief to learn that her father was wanting to mend their relationship. Instead, she only felt this cold dread in her heart when she learned that he had only written to her and not to Alicent, who was also his daughter and had given him an equal number of grandchildren. Y/n tried to be courteous and kind to her father in any returning letter she sent, and yet each one he replied with felt more like a stone crushing her against the sea bed, despite feeling the light weight of the paper in her hands. Eventually, Lord Otto requested to host his oldest grandchild, Aegon, in Oldtown. His reasoning was for personal reasons only; to make up for lost time and congratulate Aegon on becoming a man. Otto also stated that perhaps it would be good for both Aegon and Daeron to reunite again as brothers. Y/n had hesitated before finally agreeing, despite the memories she had of her father when Aegon was first born. She remembered Lord Otto trying to force her hand, telling her how to raise her sweet, innocent son into becoming a king.

She gave her father the benefit of the doubt. That had been years ago and she agreed that Aegon deserved to see his little brother again, her own ache to see Daeron the deciding factor on this arrangement. She sent Aegon to Oldtown, promising him that it would only be for the season. Her inner demons wished to demand her eldest child to steal Daeron away as well, but forced the words down and bury them as she hugged Aegon tightly. Now Aegon has finally returned -and not with Daeron- just before Helaena's name day. The Queen watched her son easily defend himself against Lord Jacaerys' advances, feeling proud and yet in turmoil over how mature he's become. Her children really were growing up before her eyes.

She nods to Ser Criston, "I'm sure he would be proud to hear you say that, ser knight. Excuse me."

"Your Grace."

Next, she makes her way to the gardens, taking a moment to stand in the warm sunlight with the soft breeze brushing through her hair like a loving touch. The Queen takes her time winding through the maze of flowers and trimmed hedges until she comes across the gazebo stationed at the center of all the plants. Her sister, Lady Alicent Strong, is seated under the shade of the gazebo, Little Aegon in her lap while Little Viserys crawls around at her feet, her hand gently grazing the woman sitting beside her.

Princess Rhaenyra, heavily pregnant with her third child, is the first to notice Y/n when she neared the gazebo, and smiles at her stepmother, "Good morning, Your Grace."

Alicent looks up and immediately finds Y/n, only pulling her hand away from Rhaenyra when she noticed the Queen's handmaidens trailing behind her. Y/n nods as she approached the two women, "It certainly is, Princess," her fingers briefly push a strand of Alicent's hair out of her face before leaning down and kissing her cheek in greeting, "Ali. Jacaerys is faring well in his training, I see."

"If only he was doing well in his studies," Alicent quips with a gentle smile as she stares up at her elder sister, who takes Aegon from her arms and rests him on her hip, "What brings you here?"

"I am here to invite the two of you to a private supper tonight," Y/n tickles Aegon the Younger under his chin, smiling as he squealed with laughter, though it doesn't reach her eyes as she spoke of her troubles, "I have letters from various lords of the realm who wish to wed Helaena and I could use your help reading through them all, as well as getting a second and third opinion."

"Of course," Alicent beams, although Rhaenyra doesn't seem as thrilled.

"Helaena is still too young to be thinking about marriage," she immediately replies, a frown cutting through her beautiful Valyrian features. She is distracted by her thoughts, however, when Little Viserys pulls himself up onto his chubby feet using her skirts. Her hand brushes his silver hair back, the toddler cooing under her attention.

"She's near one-and-twenty, Rhaenyra," Y/n appeared downcast, even as she smiled down at her stepdaughter and squeezed her shoulder in comfort, "You were even younger. We all were. We've been holding this back for long enough. We can't keep her forever."

The Queen knelt down to the princess' round stomach, peering up at Rhaenyra with an encouraging twinkle in her eye, "Besides, pretty soon you'll have a daughter of your own to fret over."

Rhaenyra faintly smiled, running a hand over her stomach even as clouds formed in her eyes. She had always wanted a sister and finally got what she wanted when her father married Y/n and they bore Helaena. Rhaenyra was always so protective of her little half-sister, even more so than the brothers, "You speak in confidence. And yet Alicent believes I'm having a boy."

"You look no different than when you carried Little Aegon and Viserys," Alicent comments in defense of her opinion when Y/n glanced over to her.

"We'll make wages tonight then, at dinner," Y/n smirked at her sister, briefly glancing back at Rhaenyra and winking. The Queen sets Aegon down next to his brother and stands up straight again, nodding to the other two, "Until then, my sweets."

"Good day, Your Grace," Rhaenyra chimes while Y/n disappears from the gazebo, her ladies keeping their heads low as they follow her.

She trails through the gardens with her usual company in tow, wishing to waste a little time if it meant she could enjoy the lovely, quiet day. That is until the peace is suddenly interrupted by the loud, high-pitched laughter of a small child. Looking around, Her Grace tried pinpointing the laughter, which now followed shouts of disapproval, until she discovers Little Joffrey Strong, the small boy running through the gardens while being chased by his septa, dark curls bouncing as he sprinted. Y/n laughs under her breath and decides not to intervene, knowing that not even she could save her little nephew from his strict teacher. The Queen shushes her handmaids when they all began to giggle at the sight, and with a smile, directs them to exit the gardens quietly until they are out of sight of the poor, winded, septa. The ladies all bow to their queen and go on about their day, leaving Y/n alone to her thoughts as she walks back into the castle.

The library is the next stop on her to-do list, allowing the guards to open the heavy doors for her before entering the grand room, full of books from top to ceiling. However, she didn't find herself alone as she originally thought. At the nearest table were none other than her son, Aemond and Lucerys Strong, playing a competitive game of cyvasse. Both young men look up at the sound of the library doors opening and stand to greet her when they recognized her face.

"Mother," Aemond thinly smiles, his eye lowering in respect.

"Who is winning?" She smirks as she glides across the floor to join them, her fingers pinching the sleeve of Aemond's tunic as she practically stood in the shadow of his tall form.

"Currently me, Your Grace," Luke's eyes sparkle mischievously, his smile only broadening when Aemond directs a small glare at him.

Y/n rolls her lips to try to retain the growing smile of amusement before crossing over to the board game, peering over either side of the divider so she can see both sides of their placements. Turning and walking away, she calls over her shoulder, "Careful, nephew. If he's smart, Aemond can defeat you in two moves."

She hears scuffling and squawks of surprise from behind her as she disappeared beyond the bookcases, smiling to herself. She travels through the small aisles between shelves until she finds what she's looking for, picking up a book to her liking and dusting off the worn cover. Tucking the leather book under her arm, she makes her way back through the maze of books until she stumbles across her son and nephew again. Y/n ruffles Luke's hair, earning another squawk of indignant from him and causing Aemond to hum in amusement under his breath, much similar to his mother. Y/n beams and walks out of the library and onto her next destination.

Walking back up the winding stairs to reach the floor of her daughter's chambers was an easy feat, having gone the same way for years since Helaena's birth. Today, however, Y/n's feet felt heavy as she inched closer to the princess' room. Her steps felt like lead by the time she reached her daughter's door, knocking and announcing herself before entering.

"My heart?" Y/n called into the room as she shut the door behind her.

Helaena had her knees up to her chest, lounging over her couch by the window, heavily focused on the embroidery in her hands. Y/n walked closer and recognized the pattern to be a dragonfly. The mother smiled as she goes to sit in the open space of her daughter's couch, relaxing her regal posture as she leaned back against the cushions, sighing in exhaustion as she watches Helaena work.

Their days together are often spent like this, in silence but in comfort. Helaena isn't fond of loud noises, touches, or even conversation, so Y/n respects her boundaries and tends not to force her daughter into such situations unless absolutely necessary. This is why guilt and shame settled uncomfortably in the Queen's gut, the weight of letters regarding a future husband for her lovely daughter heavy before Y/n could even read them herself. Even though she had not seen the letters in person yet, they still lingered in the back of her mind, dreading the conversation that will have to happen, and the celebrations of her name day that Helaena will have to attend.

"Has your uncle stopped by for your lessons?" Y/n suddenly asked, realizing that she had not seen Daemon at all this morning.

Helaena paused in her ministrations but continues to stare at her embroidery as she answered, "He left early. Kostōba vali emagon kostōba ondos." [Strong men have strong hands]

Though the Queen herself was not fluent in High Valyrian, she has spent enough time in the company of Daemon and Rhaenyra to catch a few words. Y/n tilts her head, suspicious, "Does 'kostōba' mean 'strong?'"

Helaena only nods as she continues her work, unaware of the playful roll of her eyes her mother presents. Y/n sinks further into the lounge chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. One of these days, she'll have to reprimand her brother-in-law for leaving his niece and depriving her of Valyrian lessons only so he could sneak off with Ser "Breakbones" Strong.

"My daughter's mother tongue should be more important than the need to stick your tongue down Ser Harwin's throat," Y/n could already hear her own lecture in her head, to which she can imagine Daemon's sly smirk gleaming down at her in response.

"Have you seen Ser Harwin's throat, dear sister?"

Y/n scoffs out loud and had the decency to appear bashful when she realized that Helaena had heard her. She flashed her daughter an apologetic smile when the princess looked up, but it slowly faded once Helaena looked back down, the Queen was sorely reminded of the main topic of today's events. Sighing, Y/n reached a hand out to Helaena, "My dear, may I touch you?"

Helaena immediately went stiff as a board, to which Y/n retracted her hand, "Okay, I'm sorry," she whispered, guilt now evident in her eyes, not that Helaena had noticed as she continues with her embroidery. It only made her mother feel worse, the woman who once loved her innocence but now felt saddened by it. Helaena is a woman grown now, and it was still hard for Y/n to wrap her head around. How can something so pure grow up so fast? Just trying to picture her daughter in the care of a man whom she has never met frightened her; haunted her even. Y/n, as Queen, understands that this is the way of things and no matter how hard she tried, there are just some things far beyond her control, like her daughter's impending marriage. It will happen eventually, whether Y/n Hightower likes it or not.

Originally, she came to Helaena to talk about these matters but decided she wanted her child to remain innocent just a little bit longer. Instead, Y/n set the book from the library down on the table across from the couch and slid it over to Helaena, "This was a book that I read years ago... before I married your father. It's about these rare butterflies native to the islands of Naath. They carry a disease that is deadly to anyone who isn't born and bred from their natural habitats," Y/n huffs in mirth, mostly to herself, "I remember that imagery kept me awake at night, but I thought this would be more to your liking."

Helaena had paused her embroidery upon her mother's explanation. The princess peers over to the book with faint interest and reaches out to caress the symbol of the butterfly engraved into the front cover, "Thank you, Mother."

Y/n beams, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sound of her most proud title. Even as her children grow into adults, she still feels her heart melt every time they call her by her true name. Aegon says it as if he mocks it, but in a playful way. Aemond says it with respect and admiration and with a hint of a smile. Helaena says it softly, like a butterfly's wing. And Daeron...

The Queen quickly shuts her thoughts down and rises from the couch, patting the cushion closest to Helaena's foot, "I'll leave you to it then. If you miss dinner, I'll make sure a meal is sent up to you."

She moves around the furniture and heads toward the door.

"Mother."

Y/n looks back, smiling patiently as she waits for Helaena to continue.

The young princess doesn't look up from her new book, speaking in riddles as she often does. But today, her riddle felt haunting, almost like a warning, "A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

Puzzled as she often is by Helaena's riddles, Y/n tries not to let it bother her. Over the years, she had learned to stop asking Helaena what she means and has stopped trying to understand her. Sometimes, even Helaena appears confused by what her own words mean. When she started saying these riddles, Viserys took it as a sign that she was a dragon dreamer, much like himself. Daemon had rolled his eyes and had started an argument with his brother for the sake of an argument, so Y/n never try to investigate further what her husband meant.  

Instead of asking her to reiterate, Y/n only nods to Helaena before leaving the room, taking a longer route toward her own apartments so that she might have a little more to walk and think alone. The time it takes for her to get to her chambers is peaceful and the hallways are empty except for the occasional maid walking in or out of rooms to fetch or retrieve clothes or food. Ser Harrold Westerling is waiting outside of Y/n's room when she arrives, and after he opens the door for her, the Queen turns back to him, "You may leave, Ser Harrold. Please see to it that no one bothers the Princess Helaena while she reads."

"At once, Your Grace," Harrold bows and marches down the hall, and Y/n closes the door behind her.

A late afternoon nap was in order, but Y/n knew better than to try when she still had so much to do. Looking around, she found the stacks of letters she had asked the King for and crossed the room to the table. She picks up one of the letters, inspected the contents, and made out the name Prince Qoren Martell.

"Absolutely not," Y/n found herself talking out loud, laughing at the gall of House Martell. She decided that all suitors she didn't approve of will have their letters burned immediately so her husband would not see them, lest he tried to marry their daughter off without her knowledge. She sauntered over to the hearth and watched the letter burn in the small flames, still amused but faintly disgusted at the idea of Helaena being sent to Dorne. The embers of the hearth appeared to mock her, the andirons; the two tall bracket spikes supporting the logs from falling into the room were shaped suspiciously like a Sunspeare. Y/n doesn't try to think about how her andirons were probably forged in Dorne and instead focused on watching the letter burn.

She hears rustling behind her and turned to face the maid she expected to find. Instead, a knife is pressed into her neck, and a hand grips tightly onto her arm. Y/n lets out a squeak of shock, reflexes kicking in as her free hand tries to push the knife away from her. The attacker is male, close to her own height, and reeked of filth. He doesn't demand or restrain her, instead, he speaks in grunts and growls as he fights with every intention of killing her.

"HELP! GUARDS!" Y/n screams at the top of her lungs once her brain had caught up with her body, still trying to push the dagger out of the way. He pushed back with equal strength and determination, with Y/n's own adrenaline turning quickly into fear and causing her arms to tremble. Her breaths quicken as she can feel herself slowly go into shock, limbs heavy and slowly giving into the weight of the knife. At one point, she tried to pull away and run when her legs began to feel like jelly, but her attacker had a hold of one of her arms, so she had no choice but to continue to fight for her life. As they both spun in this twisted dance, Y/n quickly realized that the hearth now stood directly behind her attacker. Sucking in a deep breath with every bit of strength she had left, she shoved the man hard, even trying to place her foot behind his to trip him for added measure.

The man falls, knife sliding like butter down Y/n's forearm in the descent. Before the assassin could place his hands behind him to stop his fall, his head hits the mantle above the hearth and he crumbles in pain, forgetting to fight against gravity as his body drops into the hearth. His neck, unfortunately, lands right on top of one of the andiron spikes, spearing through flesh and bone. He spits out blood, gurgling, choking on the red liquid as he slowly realizes he was trapped with his head sticking directly into the flames. As he spat out blood, his whole body convulsed and writhed in response to his entire head beginning to catch fire, unable to escape with his neck completely skewered onto the spike. His eyebrows turned to ash, and his skin began to blister and melt, his body twitched and kicked for freedom, even as the heat of the flames forced his skin to sizzle and pop like a boar on a spit. The smell was unbearable as Y/n quickly steps away, only to fall to her knees on the floor when she found no strength left, tears uncontrollably rolling down her face. All she could do was cling to her injured arm and watch, horrified, as her attacker's body slowly stopped fighting, going limp as the fire somehow burned brighter. The Queen tried gasping for air, her entire body shaking out of fear and pain just as the doors burst open to reveal the Kingsguard.

"My Queen!" Harrold Westerling had returned, immediately running to Y/n's side while his men inspect the scene before them. Ser Harrold guides her to the nearest furniture and inspects Her Majesty's injuries while a maester was called forward. Between the bustling of the guards and the shouting involved, other residents of the castle began to stir with all this commotion.

The first to arrive was Alicent, with Rhaenyra slowly following her in her condition. Alicent looked around the room, horrified by the man lying dead in the fireplace before she scanned the apartments and quickly found her sister, "Y/n!"

She rushed over to the Queen, gathering her up in her arms as they both wept in fright and relief. Rhaenyra excused Ser Harrold from attending Y/n so that she may sit on the other side of her stepmother and hold her close. The Grand Maester finally arrived and quickly made good, efficient work on the Queen's arm as Daemon marched into the room, sneering at the scene of the crime. He looked as though he wished to spit onto the dead body before releasing his anger elsewhere.

"Who was meant to be on watch here?! Who failed to protect the Queen?!"

"It was me, Prince Daemon," Ser Harrold bowed his head in shame.

Daemon only takes two steps towards the knight before Y/n finally found her words, even as she stumbles over them, "N-No, Daemon! It was not his fault! I... I... I ordered him to go tend to Helaena. I made him leave his station."

Her brother-in-law relents after a while of the two of them staring down one another, stepping away from Ser Harrold and moving to stand behind the three women on the couch, "Has my brother been informed? Is someone with him?"

"Ser Criston is guarding the King, my prince. He's on his way."

"Mother?" Aegon calls out from the doorway, only walking into the room when the sea of knights part for him to see the Queen alive and well. Jace also walks in with him, leading his father, Ser Harwin, to inspect the scene for himself.

"I did not realize I was hosting in my chambers," Y/n muttered under her breath, wincing when the maester added yet another stitch to the cut. However, her irritation melts away when her eldest son approached her, reaching out to him with her free hand, "I'm alright, my sweet. Have you seen your brother and sister?"

"Your daughter is safe in her room, Your Grace," Ser Harrold cut in, "I left a guard with her."

"And Aemond? Last I saw, he was in the library with Lucerys."

"I'll go get them," Harwin volunteered after a pleading gaze from his lady-wife Alicent. He quickly heads towards the door only to stop short and bow as Viserys finally enters, his cane trembling in support of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" The King demands as everyone bows in his presence, all except his family members sitting on or surrounding the couch. Viserys turns to his family, inspecting each of their expressions before settling on his queen, "And why is my wife bleeding?"

"There was an assassination attempt, Your Grace," Ser Harrold quickly reports with a ramrod back. Ser Harwin finally leaves the room after nodding to his father and Ser Criston when they entered the Queen's chambers. Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, steps up to stand beside the King, appalled and worried.

"An assassin? How is this possible?" He questions.

"I did not recognize his face," Y/n answers, her voice now stronger with her family surrounding her. Her back straightens and she now looks onto Lord Lyonel with the fierceness of a queen once more, "I pride myself in knowing every staff member in my employment, and I have never seen that man before in my life."

"It will be hard to identify him now, Your Grace," Ser Harrold continues to address Viserys while also moving aside to show the King the horrifying sight of the death. Viserys' eyes widen at the body stuck in the hearth from the neck up. He looks at his wife and then back to the body, affronted and speechless. In this time of the King taking it all in, Ser Harwin returns with Prince Aemond and Lord Lucerys, both young men striding across the room to join their respective family members. Aemond stands beside his older brother, standing over their mother as he inspects her appearance with only his single eye. He didn't speak a word, and yet confessed he was afraid by looks alone.

Alicent felt the need to stand and pace, and by doing so, caught a glimpse of the dead body and noticed, to her horror, his attire, "He wears our house colors," turning back to her older sister, Alicent recognized the equal shock spreading over Y/n's face, "Could this man be from Oldtown?"

Y/n's shoulders fall, a faint look of acceptance written in her sad eyes, "If so... then there could only be one prime suspect who resides there."

The room is filled with mutters of both surprise and indifference, depending on who you talk to. Some, like the Kingsguard, are appalled by this revelation, some, like Daemon, know it to be true and their eyes darken. Others, like Lord Lyonel and Lady Alicent, are in a state of disbelief.

Alicent even voices her disbelief as she shakes her head, "Father would never do something like this. Why would he want you dead if you're married to the King?"

"Because Father's wish wasn't for me to marry the King, it was for his blood to one day sit on the Iron Throne," Y/n stated boldly, loudly, to make sure everyone in the room heard it and accept it, "When I pledged my loyalty to Rhaenyra's right as Viserys' heir, Father's plans were ruined."

Rhaenyra squeezed Y/n's knee in comfort and the room stirred with this bit of information. Viserys grinds his teeth while glaring at the floor, enraged by the gall of his former Hand.

"A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

All eyes turn to the door of the room, where Princess Helaena now stood, half hiding away as all eyes turn to her. Y/n's worries all float away as her face softens at the sight of her daughter, smiling in encouragement, "Yes... that's what you meant, my heart. You tried to warn me."

"If Father is responsible for this attack, then he risks himself becoming a traitor to the crown," Alicent interrupts, her voice low in anger, "He should be punished immediately."

Viserys huffs out a large, enraged sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Maester. Once you are done attending to the Queen, please inspect the body. I will have the Kingsguard bring the corpse down to the dungeons and you may meet them there."

"Of course, Your Grace."

"Ser Harrold," Viserys broadens his voice, the man in question straightening to attention at the power of it, "I demand the arrest of Lord Otto Hightower. Send out a regiment to Oldtown to obtain him and bring him back to King's Landing."

"Your Grace," Ser Harrold bows and vacates the room.

"Ser Criston," Viserys turns to the younger knight, "Remain outside the Queen's room tonight."

"At once, Your Grace."

"Half of you bring the body down to the dungeons," the old man orders the remaining Kingsguard, "The rest of you follow me. I will summon the court and address the crime at hand."

"You mean to warn them of your interrogation into their treachery?" Daemon questions with a sly glare, appalled.

"Treachery?" Viserys appeared affronted at his younger brother, scoffing in disbelief.

"Someone inside the castle must have helped, my love," Y/n decided to cut in before another spat between brothers could begin within her chambers, "I do not believe my father acted alone in this attack. I believe he had help from someone on the inside. Only someone with the proper knowledge of the castle and my whereabouts could have instructed the assassin on where to go and when to strike. No doubt whoever this traitor is had hired the attacker using Lord Otto's coin."

The maester had finished Y/n's stitches and stood to instruct the Kingsguard on how to remove the body without tampering with it. Roughly five Kingsguard managed to lift the corpse off the sharp andiron and pull it out of the fire without distressing the skull from its shoulders. The Queen keeps her eyes fixed on her husband, refusing to even glimpse at the body of her attacker. Viserys former dismissal relents, his shoulders slouching as he nods in agreement. The body is removed from Y/n's chambers and with it follows a parade of Kingsguard along with the Grand Maester. Viserys waited for them all to leave before also exiting with Lord Lyonel, mentioning under his breath of a secret council meeting.

The room grows silent, the rest of the royal family sitting uncomfortably, unnerved by the situation. Y/n's mind is buzzing, her thoughts running from her attacker... to Oldtown, to her father, and then to Daeron. Dread freezes in her chest, worry for her youngest child taking place.

"Daemon," Y/n stands up, feeling the strength of her legs again as she rounds the couch in a flurry of skirts, stepping up to her good brother. She makes sure to stare directly up into his eyes, unwavering, as she carefully spoke her next words, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to take your dragon to Oldtown and bring me back my son?"

Mischief sparkled dimly in Daemon's war-aged eyes, a corner of his lips slowly turned up as he feigns innocence with the tilt of his head, "Not by horse, Your Grace? Surely, you wouldn't want your lord father to feel insulted by the mere threat of a dragon."

A playful taunt that she would normally meet, but the Queen's mind remains fixed on her baby boy. Her words are blunt and powerful compared to the stutter she had possessed earlier, "Perhaps I would like him to feel insulted by the mere presence of your company."

She leans into her brother-in-law's space, taking both of her hands and gripping onto one of his forearms. She lowers her voice so that only he could hear the rest, "Go. I don't care what you do, or how you do it, just bring me back my son alive."

He schooled his features, emotions neutral while firmly nodding once down to her, "Yes, Your Grace."

Daemon breaks from her hold on him and cross to the door before Aemond began to follow him, "I'll accompany you, Uncle."

Y/n quickly steps towards her second son, reaching for him, "I do not wish that, Aemond--

"It's alright, dear sister," she turns to Daemon's voice, "Vhagar and Caraxes will definitely be a sight your father will remember for the rest of his miserable years... or whatever time he has left."

The grave promise in his tone may have felt intimidating to some, but it was strangely a comfort to the Queen. Aemond grasps her elbow in comfort, forcing her to look up at him. Glancing between her son and Daemon, she eventually surrenders with a stern expression as she narrows her gaze onto Aemond, "Fine. But you do what Daemon says and you do not fight. Promise me."

"I promise, Mother," Aemond whispers gently to her, "I'll bring Daeron home for you."

He pulls out of his mother's grip and saunters over to join his uncle at the door. Daemon nods to Rhaenyra before exiting from her sight. Aemond takes one look back at his family, narrowing his sight onto his older brother. He tilts his head in question and Aegon only shakes his head in rejection. He will not join the hunt. Aemond nods with understanding, a silent conversation only two brothers can share, before he, too, leaves. Aegon turns back to his mother, dutifully placing himself at her side, "What would you have me do, Mother?"

"Stay with Helaena in her chambers tonight," she instructs him with a warm smile, cupping his face in her hands, meeting his eyes as they stood the same height, "I would feel comforted knowing neither of you would be left alone for the time being."

"We can all stay together, Aunt," Jace mentions with a smile of reassurance, "All the children. We'll have the wet nurses bring Little Aegon and Viserys to Princess Helaena's room and we can keep each other company until we know everything is safe again."

"I'll go find Joffrey," Luke volunteers, springing up and disappearing from the room.

"Very well," Y/n laughs under her breath, amused by Luke's lack of courtesy before gently patting the side of Aegon's face, "Will that please you, my dear? Will you and Jace watch over your siblings and cousins until we apprehend the people involved in this attack?"

"We'll make it a celebration, Mother," Aegon comforts her, "As to not worry the smaller ones."

"Thank you, my sweet child," Y/n whispers, feeling lighter when she watches the remainder of the children leave, though it was getting harder and harder to recognize them as children when the older ones are nearly fully grown and so responsible.

The room remains occupied by Y/n, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Ser Harwin, the latter noticing the way the Queen chewed on her bottom lip while in thought as she began pacing the room, "What is it?"

"I wish to know who among our court would want me dead, and if their intentions have any motive behind hiring my attacker."

"If the assassin had lived, we could have questioned him," Harwin had commented.

"Not likely," Queen Y/n shook her head, "The maester may confirm this, but I believe the attacker's tongue might have been cut out prior to assaulting me. I remember he never spoke a word, only making pained noises and grunting. Whoever helped him into the castle was more careful than my father. Whoever they are, they covered their tracks."

~~~~~~~~~

It was well into the next day and yet none of them left Y/n's side. They had all stayed up the entire night, debating on what to do next as the Queen anxiously waited for news from Oldtown. To try and distract her, both Alicent and Rhaenyra offered to assist in looking through the letters asking for Helaena's hand in marriage. The three women had done so until morning, with Harwin standing guard inside the room and Ser Criston guarding outside of it.

Ser Criston had yet to be informed of Daemon and Aemond's return when they all heard the familiar roars of Caraxes and Vhagar flying overhead, even shaking the floor of Y/n's chambers. The Queen abruptly stood from her chair, running to her balcony to spot the two dragons for herself. However, they had flown directly to the Dragonpit and they were now too far for Y/n to see who sat on top of their mounts. Anxious to see the riders with her own two eyes, the Queen sprinted out of her chambers, barely acknowledging the others shouting her name behind her. She knew for a fact that Ser Harwin and Criston were running after her, but Alicent and Rhaenyra's voices faded away, not following Y/n, most likely because of the princess' round stomach.

Y/n paid no mind to courtesy or manners as she ran through the halls of the castle, not even nodding her head whenever a servant or lord stopped to bow in greeting her. She even kicked off her shoes, grace be damned, so that she may pick up her skirts and take two steps at a time down the winding staircases.

By the time she ordered guards to open the doors of the Red Keep, the front gates were slowly rising. Y/n bounded down the steps of the courtyard, finally stopping to catch her breath as she anxiously waits for whoever to come through. Daemon entered first, followed by his nephew. Aemond, however, was occupied with another silver-haired individual, the older brother playfully shoving a younger boy forward.

Although upon looking at him, Y/n could hardly describe him as a boy. Daeron, and the age of six and ten, was technically a man grown, though he could never possibly reach the same height as Aemond or Daemon. He always kept his traditional Targaryen hair short, at least to his shoulders, and Y/n's eyes briefly squinted at the green-colored apparel her youngest son wore before quickly forgetting about it, her smile uncomfortably stretching as her eyesight began to blur.

Daeron had kept his gaze on the Queen, even as the front gates closed behind them. The courtyard was still until the young prince stepped forward, his own smile smaller than Y/n's but it was one of relief and shyness, "Hello, Mother."

She broke after that, huffs of laughter under her breath as joyful tears ran down her face. Y/n opened up her arms and Daeron dutifully fell into them, hiding into her shoulder as his mother hugged him tightly, shaking with relief.

~~~~~~~~~

"Has Daeron comfortably moved back in?" Viserys asked his wife that following night, both of them sitting at the corner of the Small Council table, alone.

"Yes. Although I wouldn't be surprised if we found him in one of his sibling's rooms the next morning," Y/n smiled fondly behind the lip of her wine glass, "Aemond said that he was thrilled to be coming home. Apparently, he hated Oldtown."

"And your father? What has become of him?"

Y/n's smile falls, immediately avoiding her husband's gaze as she carefully swirls the wine in her goblet, watching the small whirlpool instead of the King's reaction, "I don't know. I didn't bother to ask."

Viserys sighed, all too well acquainted with Daemon's temper and his opinion of Lord Otto, "Well, my men will be there in a few days and they will make do with what is left of Otto Hightower."

The Queen sets her goblet on the table and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers against the arms, "Perhaps Daemon chose mercy. Perhaps he wished to surprise us and soon the Kingsguard will bring my father back alive and whole."

It was a comforting thought, but Viserys only huffed in amusement, "Knowing my brother, I wouldn't get your hopes up, my dear."

They both laugh from their chests, even if there wasn't much mirth behind it. They settle back into a comfortable silence again, while a thought comes to Viserys' mind. It pleases him, and he outwardly shows with the broad, toothless smile he gifts his wife, "You know... even though you're kind and caring, you're also fierce and harsh. Those are tremendous qualities, my love, that not many can possess. Did you know what the smallfolk call you? The Good Queen. My grandmother, Queen Alysanne, was also nicknamed the Good Queen."

Her curious expression slowly melts into a fond smile, allowing Viserys to continue as he sets down his own wine goblet, "It's an honorable title, perhaps more honorable than just being a King or Queen. It goes to show that you are well-loved and you are good at what you do... I often wonder what would happen to this kingdom and this family without you, especially after nearly losing you last night."

Y/n's heart squeezes in her chest, touched by her husband's words. Eyebrows furrowed and lips turned up, the Queen looked over at Viserys with sympathy as she reached her hand over to grasp his, holding it tight, "Best not to dwell on it, my King."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: It took me an embarrassing long time to realize I was spelling ‘Jacaerys’ wrong. I blame Rhaenyra for giving her son such a difficult name.

I hope you’ve enjoyed! This will likely be the last part of ‘The Good Queen’ since I don’t think it really needs to be a series. It’s bad enough that I have three other series that need updating. Please leave a request in my pm or ask box!

Inspiration for this chapter HERE

#viserys targaryen #king viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen imagine #king viserys targaryen imagine #viserys targaryen x reader #king viserys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #paddy considine #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #harwin strong #daemon targaryen #otto hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #rhaenyra x harwin #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenicent #rhaenyra x alicent #princess rhaenyra #daemyra

[milla984]

A Million Reasons

Summary: after a phone call from Penelope, Reader teases Spencer about a potential love interest and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff with a little angst

TW/CW: a little bit of angst, brief mentions of food, self-doubt, mentions of anxiety, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

Thank you @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read this!

The following work is my entry for @andiebeaword's 3,000 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge (prompt n. 12) and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

Spencer scooped out of the paper cup what was left of his ice cream before he finished recounting the events leading to the arrest of the unsub the entire BAU team had been successfully tracking down in Seattle during the past few days. 

“He’ll be charged with ten counts of murder, one attempted murder, and unlawful possession of multiple weapons. He’s facing ten life sentences without parole.”

“Way to go, Justice League!” you cheered, enthusiastic. 

He tucked his hair behind his ear with a cute chuckle. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow so you caught a glimpse of his wristwatch reflecting the light of a lamp post standing along the edge of the walking path; from the bench you were both sitting on you could see the illuminated dome of the US Capitol rising up against the dark mid-summer sky. 

Despite being within walking distance of a major street in the southwest quadrant of Washington, the park was quiet and uncrowded and the nearby gelato shop was one of Spencer’s favorites. 

You took the last sip of your drink, acting very casual. “And that’s all that happened?” 

He shrugged, unsure about which crucial information could have been missing from his story since he was under strict instructions not to fill you in on the most gruesome details of the cases he’d worked.

“Uhm, graphic descriptions of tortures and mutilations are not—”

“I’m talking about a certain homicide detective… the one you gave your number to…?” you explained and his jaw dropped instantly.

“What?!”

You nudged at him with your elbow. “Garcia called me from the Original Starbucks in Pike Place. I couldn’t tell if the hype was about your new admirer or being there.”

“I don't understand how this is such a big deal!” he blurted out in a high-pitched voice. “She showed an interest in what we do so I gave her my card.”

No profiling skills were required to detect his firm intention to avoid discussing the matter, yet the words came out of your mouth like a river in spate. 

“Any chance it wasn’t only a professional interest?”

The way Spencer looked at you, disappointed and hurt, hit you worse than a punch in the liver. 

“What’s with you, guys?! Are– are you all so invested in my personal life because you’re convinced I’m chronically unable to have one without your help?” he snapped, something you’d never seen him do. 

“I’m s—” you tried to reply, even though he was still too angry to let you apologize and cut you off again.

“Or maybe it’s just that I’m no Derek Morgan, so the idea of someone noticing I exist is pathetic or funny to you?”

“Seriously?! An IQ of 187 and this is the best inference you can come up with?” you snorted, upset by the subtle insult he’d thrown at you - even if you had to admit you deserved it.

His brows furrowed. “Then why did you bring this up?” 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry. I truly am,” you admitted, “but I would never ever think that people hitting on you is pathetic, give me some credit!”

He remained silent for a while, quite aware that Penelope’s inability to keep her mouth shut generated from genuine excitement about what she perceived as good news; sharing such personal information with you meant you had been put to the test over and over and, in the end, deemed worthy of her trust. 

The peaceful atmosphere around you served as an amplifier for the sound of splashing water and Spencer indicated the fountain at the center of the large, round basin in front of you with a jerk of his head. 

“I read a book about the architectural history of D.C. on the way back. This piece was created for the 1876 Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the US Congress acquired it in 1877 and placed it at the base of Capitol Hill. It was dismantled in 1926, then it remained in storage until 1932 when they moved it here.”

The pedestal held three twin iron-casted sea nymphs wearing wet tunics, with their arms raised above their heads to support a shallow vasque; on top was a group of kneeling child tritons, and the base was decorated with turtle-like aquatic creatures.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled.

The fact he’d for sure started and finished said book in less than fifteen minutes was among the 999.999 entries in your list of reasons to crush over SSA Reid.  And so were his three PhDs, his crooked ties, his passion for Star Wars, chess and Halloween.

“I don’t talk much about my private life. Especially outside of work,” he confessed after a pause. “A lot of times I have a hard time discussing personal issues—”

“Spencer… you know you don’t owe me an explanation, right?” you rushed to clarify.

He nodded and you did the same in response, to confirm you had no intention of pressuring him into opening up if he felt uncomfortable but were also ready to listen to anything he had to say; even in dim light, you could see the sadness veiling his beautiful hazel eyes.   

“I’m sorry I overreacted. Garcia was being Garcia, with her ‘look at the world through rose-colored glasses’ scenarios. Except, in this case giving my card to a homicide detective to discuss behavioral sciences was just what it sounds like. I understand where she’s coming from, I never told her…”

Your whole body tensed up, courtesy of a rush of anxiety triggered by the possibility of him being already involved with someone he had never mentioned, not even to his closest friends; you wondered if he could hear the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Luckily for you, Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m trying to come to terms with something I’ve been feeling, for weeks now. And I’m worried, because of what happened in the past and I can’t let go of…” his voice broke a little, so he swallowed. “Deep down I’m afraid I'm not the type of person who gets to live out happily ever after.” 

Refraining from hugging him on the spot and holding him close to your heart had gotten increasingly difficult lately, so you settled for a peck on his temple in a clumsy attempt at a comforting gesture.

Spencer jolted, befuddled, and for a moment you feared for the worst; you certainly didn’t expect him to lean forward to cup your face in his hands - big hands.  With slender, elegant fingers he tenderly brushed over your cheeks.

You both held your breath, waiting for the distance between you to vanish until your foreheads touched and the tips of your noses rubbed together. 

“... are we really doing this?!” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

You smiled. “Don’t make me wait for another six months.”

Spencer squinted, an indication he was browsing countless data and events stored in his memory; when he eventually pinpointed the exact moment you fell for him he squeaked in surprise. 

“Christm—”

You pressed your palm on the nape of his neck, guiding his lips over yours for the kiss you both had been longing for. 

Reason number 1.000.000: Dr. Reid had a crush on you, too.

@thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #friends to lovers #mutual pining #idiots in love #my gifs #milla writes stuff #andies3kwritingcelebration #for the first time i don't hate the title! #fun fact: the setting for this one is a real place in d.c.

[rae-pss]

Hello again rae! So I just saw that you read my ask about my think in chap 5 in whb. And I am so happy we have thing in common so here I give you some another imagine of whb self aware idea for you. Since I think about it long enough and want to share it with you. ( Just take you time to have a idea to writing about this content , I will be waiting 😄 ).

Just imagine that we ( the reader ) found out a way to control the mc in a short or long moment or talk through the mc body.

- Everytime sitri call the mc (Ra-on) solomon ( own sexy pewpaw , I can't lie the fact that he so beautiful , no wonder god like him ). the reader will be like ' I will find a way to control the mc to make them ignore him or make him cry on his knee to apologize and call out the MC's name correctly '.

- everytime the seraphim attack the hell or even talk nonsense about kill the mc or enything about god the reader will be like ' no wonder why god leave you all , because you all are so annoying and dumb '.

- ( Like I say in another ask about bully leviathan ) in his H-scent , the moment he talk shit about minhyeok and say human are weak then the reader like ' fuck this , I will teach you lesson ' control the Mc body and then dominant him back like choke him by the whip he give them and then choke him hard until he almost faint then I will stop. And no is not done yet. Is the mc not dominant the hell out of him then the reader will do it , until he beg for more and I will stop and get out of there leave him like that as a pay back. ( cockblock him make him so close to cum and then leave him like that ).

And that all what I want to say. And feel free to use my imagine is one of it make you have a idea to write , I even happy is you do ☺️😄🤔

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . shout out to the inspiration i suddenly got to do sitri and levi' parts. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 944 words, first it's sitri, then gabriel, and lastly leaviathan. mentions of the word cock and choking (character receiving) in levi's part since it has a little smut (?).

how you achieved that was something that not even you could understand. was there even a way to do it? well, the existential questions could wait for another time, now you had to take advantage of every damn second that fate had given you.

you couldn't waste this opportunity to talk to your beloved characters.

the walk seemed very normal for the blue-stranded demon, one more of the many that sitri had taken with his beloved solomon since his recent return. how much he missed those moments of quiet peace when it was just him, solomon, and their precious heartbeat.

—how are you feeling, sol-?

the demon didn't even have time before one hand grabbed the black cravat (handkerchief) of his shirt and then pulled with force, thus making his eyes come face to face with solomon's. and, once again gaining on him in time, they spoke loud and clear.

—call me by that dead man's name one more time and you'll end up crying on a street corner, ignored by me until the day I decide to forgive your sorry ass.

their eyes seemed to shine with a unique intensity. it was certainly similar to how satan's eyes did when someone alluded to his lack of height; however, something about them appeared different. it wasn't the usual way their irises looked, now they felt more… more alive.

regardless, a few seconds later their hand left his garment as quickly as they had first grabbed it. their expression showed some stupor, but sitri decided to disregard it for the moment. maybe the influence of his king was harming his beloved sol- his beloved ra-on.

no one could say exactly how many times they had already met, nor was it so crucial to know the number. not when, once again, the Seraph was flying over a devastated and decaying gehenna, looking down from the sky at the destruction he and his angels had brought to the kingdom of wrath.

despite the initial pleasure that such sights brought him, his smile was erased from his pale face when his eyes fell on the figure of a certain human.

"that damn descendant of that dead man..."

with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw already clenched, gabriel pointed the blade of his scythe at them.

—how annoying it's... you foolish human being still alive.

and, as usually happened in each of his meetings, not very pleasant ones to whoever had to listen to the white-haired angel, he began to talk and talk about his love for god, about how everyone who wasn’t in heaven were beings unworthy of being alive, of how god will return, of how he should kill them in an instant... in general, he began his long monologue with himself out loud.

—no wonder why god left you all, i mean, you’re so annoying.

that was as if a drop of water had fallen on his head. some words that he never expected to hear from that human's lips. a simple phrase that awakened every desire to end their pathetic existence once and for all.

—you, insolent child!

he could say little more when, as usually happened, the demons made an appearance and the battle started once more.

the day he had them in his hands... that day gabriel would make them pay for having dared to say such things, about him and his dear god.

this was new. it was the first time in his long existence as king that someone had left him in such a miserable state without even hesitating twice. so renewed was it that, even there leviathan was still lying on the ground with his right hand on his neck, caressing the irritated skin, and his cock standing proud waiting for any release.

not long ago he was with that descendant of solomon, that peculiar human, helping them with the dose of demonic essence they so much needed to stay alive down there. although, he thought he’d give it to them in his way.

what he never expected from such an excuse of a being was that they’d use his tactics against him so naturally.

it was the exact moment in which their gaze became more intense, their fist tightened the handle of the whip and, with a sigh escaping past their lips, they took a few assertive steps forward until, without even thinking about it, they wrapped the rope around his neck. and tightened the material.

seconds were what leviathan needed to notice how the air disappeared agonizingly from his lungs, how the little oxygen in him vanished after the oppression of the whip around his neck.

—don't think you can go around saying those things like it's nothing.

the human commented fiercely, letting themselves sit comfortably on his lap without any problem. the force they used on the object increased and decreased depending on how blue they noticed his face. yet, some other color also dared to be seen on his cheeks.

—this excites you, doesn't it? 

they spat hatefully, squeezing the ends of the whip harder, they let the demon beneath their body writhe in a mixture of the most lascivious of pleasures and the most tortuous of agonies. all of this would have been better if they hadn't noticed his hardened member twitching underneath their crotch.

—pathetic that you get so eager when being choked... as pathetic as only you could be.

from there, everything became a blurry memory for him. a memory blinded by the balance of passion and pain that ended once they had their fair fun with him. to then, leave him there on the floor like the waste they remarked him he was.

#— thoughts. #— what in “hell” is bad? #— answered. #what in “hell” is bad? #what in hell is bad #whb #whb x reader #what in hell is bad x reader #whb sitri #sitri x reader #sitri what in hell is bad #sitri whb #what in hell is bad sitri #leviathan x reader #leviathan what in hell is bad #leviathan whb #whb leviathan #what in hell is bad leviathan #leviathan smut #whb x y/n #whb x you #whb x mc #leviathan x y/n #leviathan x you #gabriel whb #gabriel what in hell is bad #whb gabriel #gabriel x reader #what in hell is bad x mc #what in hell is bad gabriel

[hellenhighwater]

This may be a mildly weird question, and I apologize if it is, but do you have any advice for how to figure out if a person (specifically oneself) would be a good cat owner? I love cats, and a lot of my future dreams involve owning one (or several). However, I often worry that I wouldn't be a good cat owner. When I was a kid, I was often nervous/skittish around animals because I couldn't predict them and was afraid of getting scratched or bitten. I'm a lot better now than I used to be (will actively seek to interact with my friends' pets, have been trusted to look after peoples' dogs for short periods of time), a lot of my instinctive reactions to being startled by animals are still . . . not entirely helpful. (Not directly harmful! I would never! But stuff like freezing up or pulling away in such a way that it can give the wrong signal to animals.) Plus, I'm not always great at picking up cues/body language from people, and based on what I've read, that's about 75% of how animals communicate, so even during good interactions, I'm always a little worried that I'm doing something wrong because I'm missing some cue.

Again, I love cats and would very much like to have one or more someday. But I only want to do that if I can be sure that I'm going to be able to give any cats of mine a good life, and I don't want to get a cat only to have to rehome it a few months later. Any tips on how to handle all this?

Thanks so much for your time and, more generally, for the delight of seeing Malice and Vice (and the kittens!) periodically on my dash. Your posts about them always brighten my day. <3

It sounds like you'd be a good owner to the right cat, and that you may want to find someone who can help you pick that cat out when you're in a position to adopt one. If you're lucky, a local shelter or rescue may be able to help you with this. If you can, call ahead and explain that you're looking for your first cat, and would like some help finding that one; ask if there's a good time to come meet some cats where someone who knows the current cats well could maybe point you to one that might be right. Also, if a personality profile for a cat includes "good with kids," that probably means they're going to be tolerant of any mistakes you might make re: body language.

You should definitely look for an adult, at least six years old, maybe even a cat in the senior category (which, depending on how a shelter or rescue categorizes cats, can be any cat over the age of 10. Cats can live a long time, so 10 is really not that old.) Try to not get attached to specific looks and just go by personality.

Cats have a lot of personality variety, and there's tons of cats out there that are truly very friendly and cuddly, and really just need someone to meet their basic needs and shower them in affection. An adult cat that has lived with people before, or who was just a friendly stray is probably going to take it fine if you freeze up or pull back suddenly, and if they're old enough to have become chill, will just walk away if you're bugging them. Crucially, you do not want to try to take a difficult or traumatized cat as your very first one. Those cats need help, true, but you need to learn first.

You can learn a lot about body language for cats online, but mostly you learn it by exposure. Plus, cat body language can be very individual-specific, so it's fine to just learn over time what your cat is saying.

There's tons of cats that are just sweet-natured. A'Tuin, my momma foster, would make a great first cat for someone! She's not shy about coming up and asking for attention, and will even use her paws to pull my hand to her face for ear scratches. She's good with not using her claws, has never tried to nip or bite, and mostly just wants to be looked after and cuddled. And there's tons of cats like her out there.

#I actually picked mal and vice by looks specifically because I didn't really have strong personality preferences #Vice particularly fell into the category of a Difficult Cat #and i like all sorts of cat personalities so that was fine

[the-cosmic-teapot]

Eternity and So Much More

Bokuto x reader

WC: 2392

TW: Self doubt, insecurity, marriage talk, long term commitment, reader needs a hug and kiss, bokuto is amazing and really affirming, I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible (engagement ring description, but not story crucial-like a sentence max) , open ended

*proof read by my man in arts husband, its his fault for typos :)

Summary: Bokuto had a very important question to ask you, but you don't see yourself in the best light.

A/N: Hi pals, this is my first time publishing anything outside of a really cringy period on Wattpad when I was 13 (no longer available for my own sanity). I am not typically a writer, so I apologize in advance, but I love Bokuto so much yeah. I hope you like this! Feedback is always welcome!

~Cosmic

Being in a relationship with a pro athlete is difficult because more times than not, they prioritize their careers. It’s what they have been working towards for the longest time and they will do almost anything to stay on the court. This is especially true with one, Bokuto Koutaro. You could ask anyone about the large, owlish man and his devotion to volleyball; they would all say the same thing: he is meant to be on the court. Knowing this did not stop you from being in a relationship with him. If anything there was a sense of pride because of his passion for the sport. There were countless missed dinners and events because of extra practice, but this did little to dissuade you from falling for the outside hitter. With all of the missed dates there were  thoughtful gifts or a lavish trip with him for time together to make up his absences. 

You knew it was coming, Bokuto's proposal, because he is not the most subtle person and he is not great at hiding things. It had been about a week prior when you found the ring in his sock drawer when doing his laundry.  It was a beautiful, yet simple princess cut diamond ring with a few accent stones around it, and here you are, at dinner with Bokuto and some friends, both old and new. Most of the night was filled with laughter and smiles, as is most of the time with Bokuto, except this time there was a pit in your stomach you couldn’t explain. Was it something you ate? Maybe it was social anxiety from being around all of Bokuto's high school friends, who you’ve seen on a few occasions. You only really knew Akaashi because of how close he was with Bokuto. Yet, in spite of this feeling you pushed through dinner with a smile.

As the appetizers and entrees came and went Bokuto insisted on getting dessert for everyone. The pair of you settled on a chocolate cake with ice cream. While the desserts were being prepared Bokuto gathered the attention of everyone and began speaking of the love he has for you, and your beauty. As he continued his speech, the pit grew deeper and deeper. His little speech concluded in tandem with the arrival of dessert, where you saw the same ring that was hidden among his socks sitting on the top of the cake slice. Then you look at Bokuto already on one knee as he asks the question, “Will you marry me?”

At this moment you didn’t have any words. Why weren’t you saying anything? Could you say anything at all?

~~

The first day of your third year at university felt the same as the others. You noted that campus was a bit livelier than normal, but this would surely die down after a couple of weeks as people lost motivation to go to class. As you walked into your first lecture hall you chose your seat with care as you would be using it for the rest of the semester. After all, humans are creatures of habit. 

When you stepped outside of the lecture hall at the end of class, you could swear you felt like a mummy leaving its crypt and stepping into the sun for the first time. Apparently you stood in place a second too long because a large man was not paying attention at the stop in traffic and bumped into your back causing you to trip and fall. As you stood back up and turned to face the cause of your fall he immediately began apologizing and saying he will buy you coffee or a pastry as his way of apologizing. Initially stunned by the sudden change in your position to seeing a large man practically on his hands and knees begging for your forgiveness for a small nudge was, admittedly, quite a scene to behold. You insisted that you were okay and there were no bruises or scratches, but he looked like a kicked puppy saying something about how he has harmed you and his mother and sisters will certainly skin him alive for not making it up to you. So you agreed to his offer of coffee, seeing as you do not have class for another hour and a half. On the walk over to the cafe you learn his name, Bokuto, and he is a starter for the men's volleyball team. 

~~

Everyone was staring at you now, waiting for an answer. You see the glints of love and true passion in Bukotos eyes; the same look he has when he plays volleyball. Why couldn’t you say anything? What was wrong with you? Here there is a man who loves you, and all you can do is just stand there. Thoughts of inadequacy swarm your mind; you’ll never be pretty enough, you’ll never be charismatic enough, you’ll never be enough for him. 

~~

  After getting coffee with Bokuto, he seemed to be part of your life. Initially it was small things like him asking you to study with him because he “gets distracted, and it is nice to have someone to keep him on track”. This typically ended with getting nothing done because of how easy conversations flowed with him. Eventually this turned into movie nights with his friends. By the end of that semester the two of you were practically inseparable. 

Sometime during the break you realized how you had grown to care for this large puppy of a man. Your days away from campus, as well as Bokuto, seemed more dreary, like something was missing. The days away made you truly notice an absence you didn’t know you could miss. Despite this, you still managed to have a relaxing break.

Bokuto was also stuck with his thoughts of you and what you were doing. He misses your smile and laugh, he misses how you would roll your eyes at some dumb joke he had made, but most of all, he misses how you care about him. Through high school he was used to girls flocking to him because of his volleyball talent, but none of them seemed to care about who he was as a person. You care about him as Bokuto Kotaro, not Bokuto Kotaro the volleyball powerhouse. You care about the little things, ensuring he stayed hydrated and made sure he always had someone cheering him on. He loved those things about you.

By the time you got back to campus and got fully moved into your new dormroom, Bokuto called and asked to get lunch because he was, as always, starving. By the end of the lunch you were sure Bokuto enjoyed your presence because of how he mentioned it at least five times when walking you home. As you get to your complex's door you debate inviting Bokuto in to watch a movie or something, but a small voice crept in saying that he probably had other, better things to be doing. So you bid him a farewell and went up alone. 

~~

As Bokuto stares at you with anticipation and nothing but adoration in his eyes staring into your own, you are at war with your insecurities. How could he want you in that way? It wasn't because you were the prettiest or because you were the most popular. It definitely wasn’t because you were the best at anything; what was it? You know he loves you, but honestly you don’t fully understand why. 

After about a minute of staring at you Bokuto began to feel a pit form in his stomach, a rare feeling for him that he wasn’t too familiar with. The last time this happened was when he asked you to go on a date with him; an actual date too, not the platonic hangout sessions from when you were first getting to know each other. Was it taking you so long to answer because you thought he wouldn't be a good husband? Was it because he can be forgetful and so focused on volleyball? Those couldn't be it, you always said that it was something you loved about him, his dedication and drive. Why weren’t you saying anything? What was holding you back?

~~

It had been one year since you met Bokuto, the start of your last year of university. Thursdays became takeout and movie night with him, just him; no one else because “I want to spend time alone with my best friend”. You thought it was sweet that he wanted to take time with just you, but it hurt when you assumed he didn’t see you romantically. You’d be stupid not to have a crush on him, he is so charismatic and funny, not to mention he looks like he was shaped by the gods, in contrast to his puppy like demeanor that would make a statue smile.

On one such Thursday Bokuto was antsy, more than normal. About a third of the way into your movie pick, you had to pause the movie. His fidgeting was getting on your nerves and you could no longer bear to ignore it. In response to you pausing, Bokuto just stared dumbly at you instead of saying anything. This was odd, there was seldom a time Bokuto was without words. 

“What’s your problem tonight?’ you asked, a little agitated. “We can change the movie if you’re not into it.” 

“I just...” He paused for a bit and continued, “ I um, I think I’d like to take you out.” You stared back just as dumbly at him for a bit. “ I don’t mean, like, kill you. I mean like a date… If you want…” You sat on his couch in one of his hoodies with Thai take-out in your lap while he thought this is something he wouldn’t mind seeing all the time. He impatiently awaited your answer, fidgeting with his hands. 

After what felt like an eon (a few minutes in actuality) you responded, “Really? Me?” It was strange to be asked out by someone who was like Bokuto. You weren't the typical drop dead gorgeous type athletes like him usually went after, at least in your own eyes. 

“Well, yeah… that’s why I asked you.” He stated very matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn't I want to date you? You know me, and still want to be my friend after I embarrassed myself at that party. You also still want to study with me even when I don’t know what’s happening, and you dont mind helping me with my classwork even though you’re taking more classes than me.” 

He went on like this for 5 minutes before you finally snapped out of your haze to interrupt him and respond. “I didn’t know you cared that much about me...” You sat on your words before landing on “Okay”. 

You thought you had broken the owlish man when that four letter word left your mouth. He just sat and stared at you before breaking out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him, this is including when he scored the winning point for nationals last spring. In an instant he was off of the couch, as were you, bouncing around the room shaking you along too. 

~~

Feeling the stares of your friends and his, you felt nauseous. You loved Bokuto, but could you accept this? What happens if it falls apart, could you live through that? What if a few years later he finds someone better than you, how could you live with that? You just stood there. Your legs felt as if they weighed a million pounds and your jaw a billion more.

Bokuto was freaking out because he was sure you’d say yes immediately. You’d talked about your futures after graduation and you said something along the lines of wanting him in your life forever. Did he misinterpret that? He got your dream ring from one of your friends who was kind enough to help him. What did he do to screw this up?

“I-I…” you took a breath, “I don’t know” you finished close to tears. After giving an answer you needed to get out, looking at Bokuto was painful because he was heartbroken and confused. You gathered your things and ran out of the restaurant.

Bokuto followed closely after you without grabbing anything. He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out onto the sidewalk spotting you instantly.

He tentatively approached you as if you were a scared stray cat. “Hey… are you okay? What happened back there?” Bokuto was close to tears too, his usually bright eyes were so serious now. “Are you not ready for this? I thought that conversation after graduation meant you wanted this… I’m really sorry if I got that wrong.” He wouldn’t stop talking. You felt like actual garbage, here he was apologizing to you for what were your own inadequacies. 

“I’m not-” you take a breath, “I’m not good enough for this, or for you. You are a pro athlete, you’re way out of my league, and I’m just someone who fell in love with you. I am not special in any way, I’m not extraordinary, I’m just me.” You pause for a second before continuing, “You deserve so much better than me, you are amazing and deserve the universe, and I’m not that.”

“I don’t see it that way.” Bokuto said simply. “You’re amazing because you are you. I love the way you get focused and bite your lip when you do. I love the way you care for me and make sure I am taking care of myself. How you make the effort to know my friends and family.” He continued while holding your wrist as if to make sure you don’t vanish into nothing. “Most importantly, I love you because of how you love me.” He concluded with a huff, Bokuto was frustrated that he needed to tell you all of this, but if he had to repeat these affirmations to you over and over like a mantra he would without hesitation. 

“Are you sure?” You question, biting your lip and avoiding Bokuto's eyes that always seem to find yours. “Yes, of course, I wouldn’t say anything I didn’t mean” He answers immediately after. “I want you in my life for eternity and so much more.”

#bokuto fluff #bokuto kotarou #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu time skip #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #timeskip!Bokuto #Fluff #Bokuto Koutaro Fluff #Haikyuu timeskip #Bokuto Kotarou fluff

[diagonal-queen]

Tired Turtle Doves

♡ pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x gn!Reader x Mykola Hohol

♡ synopsis: Fyodor decides to sleep in with you and Mykola.

♡ wc: 1.2k

♡ cw: None! Fluffy! (Fedya and Kolya do tickle you for a sec but it's supposed to be cute)

note: I got this idea from um nothing in particular. No I was not inspired while roleplaying a romantic scenario with AI versions of the characters, I can't believe you would ever think that. Also reader works with Fyodor and Mykola (work isn't specified but like...I guess they're a member of the DOA lol) Apologies for errors.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky was a busy man. Such was a consequence of being a crucial part of multiple criminal organisations. Technically, you and Mykola were in the same boat, but you weren't the ones planning and coordinating absolutely everything from behind the scenes. These circumstances led to a tight schedule for Fyodor, meaning he unfortunately didn't have a generous amount of free time like the two of you did.

You were never bored around Mykola- you weren't sure if that was even possible- but over time you grew more and more dissatisfied with Fyodor's absence. All you wanted was to spend some down time with the both of them. You missed the small things, like the quick pecks you'd give the two of them before leaving your home, or even just mundane conversations you shared in your spare time.

One morning, as was generally the case, Fyodor was the first to rise from his slumber. Sitting up in your shared bed and slowly stretching his arms, he glanced down at you and Mykola with a smile. You both appeared to be sound asleep still, or at least that's what the rhythmic breathing emanating from your parted lips indicated.

Fyodor stared at the wall in front of him, momentarily dissociating as he ran a hand through his raven black hair, a little tangled from his sleep. Before long though, he shook his head and noted he'd have to look into that; it had been happening more and more these days. For now he ought to get out of bed and quickly freshen up.

Suddenly, though, he felt a small pull, and turned to find your barely conscious figure glancing up at him with heavy eyes.

"...don't wanna get up..." you mumbled, tugging at Fyodor's shirt. "C'mon, Fedya..."

To be fair to you, it's not as if you could really move. Behind you was Mykola, whose arms were tightly wrapped around your torso as he slept. His chest was flush against your back, and you could feel his warm, consistent breathing on your collarbone. Though you were still half-asleep with a clouded mind, you were still adamant on achieving your goal; getting Fyodor to sleep in with the two of you.

"My dear, you know I can't stay here-"

"Fedya...!" You whined with a tired frown. "You're always outta bed by the time we get up. And I miss you."

"I have work to do, myshka."

"Screw your work," You muttered, irritably. "We are more important than work. Do you love work more than us? How could you do that, Fedya..."

You trailed off as you closed your eyes again, fingers still gripping the hem of his shirt. He placed his hand atop yours, and you yawned.

"You know that isn't true," he answered calmly, knowing that your frustration was a result of your fatigue. You weren't the type to accuse him of something you knew was false and he knew it.

"So please, then? Please...?" You continued, lazily making grabbing motions towards your black-haired partner.

"...you are both frustratingly endearing," he sighed. You poked his arm, his cold, pale skin barely deterring you by this point in your relationship.

"Mhm...sleep, Fedya..." You attempted to pull his arm closer in order to get him to tuck himself back under the sheets. "Please?"

Fyodor sat still for a moment, before letting out a relenting exhale and giving you a smile.

"...alright, myshka." In response, you gave his arm a squeeze of appreciation and smiled back at him. His form was shadowy, the sun shining through the translucent curtains behind him. To anyone else he might have looked somewhat frightening, but it was different for you. There was affection for you in his gaze.

"Mm..." You heard a quiet groan and felt a small vibration against your neck. "...morning, Dove..."

"Hi, Kolenka." You let out a quiet giggle, moving your hand to place it in his snow-white hair. "Guess who's here with us?"

"...hm?" He buried his head further into the crook of your neck and planted a few kisses. "What's happening?"

"Open your eyes!" You encouraged, turning to face him. He lifted his head up to open his eyes and meet yours, before noticing the man on your other side.

"...Dos-kun?"

"Good morning, Kolya." Fyodor smiled, his magenta eyes creasing so slightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"...Dos...!" Still half out of it, Mykola reached his hand over you to touch Fyodor. In his sluggish movement, all he did was lazily paw at Fyodor's stomach, but he was clearly happy to see his second beloved still in bed. Fyodor chuckled, taking Mykola's hand and pressing a chaste, soft kiss to his palm. You watched the scene with your lips upturned, still a little too lazy to grin all the way.

"Perhaps I should sleep in more often?" Fyodor mused. "You two are so sweet while half-asleep."

"Uh-huh..." You absentmindedly agreed as Mykola's body weight pressed against yours, his hand still in Fyodor's. "So stay."

"I am staying, my dears," he reassured you. "Just for today, though."

"Yay..." Mykola replied, sleepily. Fyodor chuckled and laid back down, positioning himself in front of you. You happily buried your face into his cool chest while he wrapped his arms around you and took Mykola's hand in his. The two were effectively caging you with their bodies, but you didn't mind at all.

"Warm..." You muttered contentedly. While Mykola hummed in agreement, Fyodor let out a small, amused snicker. "We should do this more often. It's nice."

"It is nice, yes," Fyodor replied. "Hm...perhaps this type of relaxation is just what I've been needing."

"You're welcome, Dos-kun," Mykola teased as he narrowed his eyes. "It took you a while to realise how lovely and therapeutic we are."

"He's been too busy being scary..." you yawned, and Mykola chuckled. Fyodor sighed in exasperation, though you could still see the corners of his lips upturned.

"Do you find me scary, myshka?"

"No, you're like a tiny baby kitten to me." Fyodor raised an eyebrow at that. You countered with a devious grin.

"Nooo, Y/N, Dos-kun is scary...!" As he cooed with a carefree lilt to his voice, Mykola pinched your side. You yelped in surprise.

"Hey, what the hell?" He didn't answer; he just let out a chuckle and tickled you more. You began laughing and shuffling about in bed trying to pry his fingers off your waist. Fyodor laid before you both, watching in amusement. "H-help me, Fedya!"

Fyodor did reach out, but it was not to help you. There was a reason he was known as a devil. There was nothing you could do besides fruitlessly writhe around while Fyodor and Mykola both tickled you in such a manner that made you wonder if they'd planned it. The two always seemed so in sync, but that wasn't always a good thing. Especially not now. Regardless, the three of you were all laughing in unison- yours a little more raucous than the others.

When they finally relented, you quickly wiggled your way out of the blanket and sat on top of it, legs crossed so you could quickly leap away should the two demons decide to strike a second time.

"You're both the worst!" You panted, earning a giggle from Mykola.

"You love us though," he grinned deviously, and it was true. You really, truly did love them.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #mykola hohol #bsd mykola #mykola x reader #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #fanfic #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #bsd x reader #x reader #bsd fluff

[meowders]

George Weasley - Friday the 13th

pairing: George Weasley x reader (usage of she/her)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none, If you notice something, please let me know :)

summary: Friday the 13th, for most, it was a day to be cautious and avoid any unnecessary risks, but not for Y/N. She was determined to make this supposedly unlucky day her lucky one.

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

On the notorious date of Friday the 13th, the Hogwarts Castle was buzzing with an unusual energy. It was the day when superstitions ran rampant, and tales of misfortune were told with fervor. For most, it was a day to be cautious and avoid any unnecessary risks, but not for Y/N. She was determined to make this supposedly unlucky day her lucky one. She had always been a believer in the power of defying superstitions, and today, she was determined to prove that luck could be found in the most unlikely places, even on the unluckiest of days.

In the dimly lit dungeons of Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape presided over his Potions class with his usual air of authority. The students sat hunched over their cauldrons, fervently brewing Draught of Peace.

As Snape paced between the rows of students, Y/N was deep in concentration, stirring her cauldron with precision, and a thought occurred to her. She knew the answer to a question he had just posed to the class and no one seemed to make an effort to answer him.

Without raising her hand or waiting for permission, Y/N blurted out the answer, "The infusion of powdered moonstone is crucial for maintaining the potion's potency, Professor."

The entire class fell into stunned silence. It was an unwritten rule in Snape's class that you did not answer unless you were granted permission. His piercing black eyes bore into Y/N, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Snape's lip curled in a disapproving sneer. "Miss Y/L/N," he began, his voice icy as ever, "raising your hand before answering is a basic display of decorum in my class."

Y/N's heart sank, perhaps taking this risk wasn’t her brightest moment, and she stammered, "I-I apologize, Professor. It just seemed important."

The other students held their breath, waiting for Snape to unleash his legendary fury. But to their astonishment, something utterly unexpected happened. Snape's thin lips twitched ever so slightly, forming a begrudging acknowledgment.

"Five points for Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N," Snape said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

Y/N was shocked, and the classroom erupted into whispers and gasps. No one could believe what had just transpired, George and Fred exchanged incredulous glances, unable to believe the luck that had befallen their friend. Snape rarely gave out points to Gryffindor, let alone for an unauthorized answer. It was as if the world had turned upside down. Y/N, still in disbelief, gave a small nod of gratitude to Snape.

Snape resumed his pacing, and the class continued to work on their potions, but Y/N's heart raced with a newfound sense of accomplishment. She had answered Snape's question and earned points for her house, breaking the unspoken rules of his classroom. As she stirred her cauldron, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride, all the while marveling at the unexpected twist in the day's events.

After the success in Snape's class, Y/N decided to push her luck further. As the day progressed, she found herself near the Forbidden Forest, a place few students dared to venture. Determined to embrace the day of unluck as her lucky day, she ventured deeper into the woods, wand in her hand, heart pounding with adrenaline, making sure to stay hidden from any lurking professors or creatures. Surprisingly, she stumbled upon a hidden clearing where an array of magical creatures gathered. It was an astonishing sight, and Y/N was careful not to attract their attention.

Not wanting to disturb the creatures, she decides to make her way further in, leading her to discover an uncharted area filled with bioluminescent flora. The vibrant colors and brilliance were a testament to the uniqueness of the Forbidden Forest. She left the magnificent scene in the forest with a racing heart and a dashing smile on her face.

As dinner commenced in the Great Hall, the reader sat at the Gryffindor table with her friends George and Fred. They were busy discussing the latest pranks they had been cooking up for the next Hogsmeade weekend when Argus Filch, the ever-vigilant caretaker, began his rounds. Y/N was watching his every move, waiting for the perfect moment to continue her quest to defy superstitions

Fred leaned in, mischief dancing in his eyes as soon as he noticed Y/N’s fixed gaze on the caretaker. "I've got a feeling Filch is in for a surprise tonight, George"

George grinned. "Oh, he definitely is. Right, love?"

Y/N nodded, sending George a quick smirk, her heart pounding with excitement. She had her wand concealed beneath the table, ready for the moment.

As Filch neared their table, the reader muttered the incantation under her breath. Suddenly, Filch's dingy mop transformed into a sleek broomstick, gleaming in the candlelight.

Fred's eyes widened. "Blimey, she's actually doing it!"

George, unable to contain his amusement, added, "Merlin, this is going to be brilliant!"

Before Filch could comprehend what had happened, he found himself astride the enchanted broomstick. With a bewildered look, he shot up into the air, clutching the broomstick for dear life.

The Great Hall fell into stunned silence, and then an eruption of laughter followed. Students gasped, pointing at the spectacle in the air, and some even cheered.

"Brace yourselves," Fred whispered to George, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene.

Filch, disheveled and bewildered, hovered above the tables, circling the Great Hall. His wild cries filled the air as he struggled to control the broomstick.

"By Merlin's beard, that's brilliant!" George roared with laughter.

Fred doubled over, amusement clearly visible on his face. "I can't believe she actually did that!"

The reader's heart skipped a beat at her friends amusement, she couldn't help but join her friends in their riotous laughter. The Great Hall had turned into a circus of amusement.

After a few comical loops and spins, Filch managed to crash-land onto the Slytherin table, knocking over goblets and platters of food, spilling some oft he contents on the surrounding students. The other students erupted into cheers and applause, thoroughly entertained by the unexpected show.

The common room was bathed in the soft glow of the fire, casting flickering shadows across the room. Fred had already headed to bed, leaving George and the reader with a rare moment of privacy. They found a cozy nook by the fireplace, their laughter and conversation filling the room.

As they settled into their corner, George couldn't help but ask, "So, love, what's been your favorite part of today? I’d do anything to see that face of Filch’s again“, he let out a chuckle at that, reminiscing the moment earlier.

The reader contemplated the question, her gaze wandering toward the dancing flames. George's question had lingered in her thoughts, and she looked at him with a mysterious smile.

"You know, George, my favorite part of today... it has yet to come, there’s one more risk I’d like to take before my lucky day is over"

George furrowed his brows, his curiosity piqued. "Another risk? You've got something up your sleeve, then, have you? Another adventure to embark on?"

Y/N, a shy smile on her lips, leaned in closer, her eyes locking onto George's, and then, without a word, she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. George's eyes widened in surprise before he eagerly responded to the kiss, his heart racing.

When they finally broke apart, George's face was flushed, and he was sporting a playful grin, "Blimey, I didn't see that coming! But I'm certainly not complaining." Y/N heart thudded in her chest as she gazed at him.

They shared a moment of tender silence, lost in each other's eyes. The reader knew that she had taken a risk, but it had paid off in the most wonderful way. George leaned in, kissing her forehead softly, his voice a soft murmur, „You know, I’d kiss you any day, not just your lucky day.“

Y/N‘s heart swelled with joy and she smiled at George with a newfound sense of certainty. They spend the rest of their eventful day sitting close together, hands intertwined and exchanging sweet nothing.

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

I'm two days lake whoops, anyways I do hope some of you enjoyed it :)

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x fem #hp #hp fandom #hp fanfic #weasley #weasley x reader #fluff #hogwarts #george x reader #harry potter imagines #george weasley fanfiction

[down-in-the-rainbow-square]

Here's an idea, reader is able to go to and from the welcome home world at will. R (reader) does this daily around the same time each time or at least checks in if R is short on time, they are also sure to let the WH crew know if they'll be gone for a X amount of days.

Well a day goes by where R doesn't visit or check in, one day turns into a week before R returns with gifts for everyone. Turns out R got really sick and then bought/made apology gifts for everyone and even cleared their whole schedule so they could all hang out for a few days.

How would the crew react?

Welcome Home x Reader - Make-Up Presents

Hi! Thank you for the request. This is a really nice idea! I'd love to be able to travel freely between my favourite fictional worlds. That'd be so fun. I wonder how time differs between the world of Home and our world.

Words: 563

Type: Headcanons, platonic

Tw: None

Wally was more worried about you. He appreciates the gift, especially if it's something crafty or handmade, but in the end, he wants to make sure you're okay. He takes your hands in his (ignoring the possible germs) and looks into your eyes. Only this time it's not exuding a creepy aura - it's concern. You quell his worries, and he turns his attention back to thanking you for the gift.

Julie is also worried about you, though not as much as Wally. As in, she can still focus on the gift and thank you for it first. Once she gets reassurance that you're okay, she asks you lots of questions about the gift you brought her. If it's something unfamiliar, say an old smartphone, she asks you so, so many questions.

Sally assured herself that you're fine, so she doesn't really worry about that. She sort of just takes the gift, acknowledges it, and moves on. She appreciates it, of course! It's just that there's so much to do and so many rehearsals you've missed and you simply must catch up! It's crucial!

Frank needs to be sure you're not sick anymore. Not only is he concerned for you as a friend, but when it comes to situations like these he's pretty cautious about germs. Yes, he's not afraid to get a little dirt on him when looking for bugs, but sicknesses are not something he wants. Other than that, he's very thankful for the gift. He decides to study it, of course.

Eddie asks lots of 'are you okay?'s and 'are you sure?'s. He trusts your reassurance and gets over it quickly, though. Still follows you around to make sure you're okay, however. After that, he asks you to take him through a step-by-step process of how the gift was made (if it was hand-made). Otherwise, he's very thankful.

Howdy doesn't ask lots of questions about your health. Like Sally, he trusts you enough to know you wouldn't come in and get them sick. Still, he offers you a special recovery discount on things like hot water bottles and blankets. As for the gift, he's really taken aback. But he offers a charming smile and a promise to keep it in the front window. But it will never be for sale; it's too precious!

Barnaby asks if you're okay once, tells you that you are always welcome because "a dog can survive anything except chocolate", and then focuses on the gift. He knows once a gift is his he's free to do with it as he'd like, so the two of you decide to perhaps paint it or draw on it. Unless it's something really special like a card, then it stays as it is.

Note: cards count as something special that cannot be touched. The Mona Lisa does not.

Poppy instantly frets over your health. I mean, what did you expect, really? She takes your face between her soft feathers and looks you over for any signs of illness. One shade too off colour and she's getting the medicine! But once you present her with the gift, he worries are washed away. She takes it tenderly in her hands and looks it over, scared of breaking it (her wings are shaky, after all). Gives you a hug before worrying she's crushing you. Then hugs you again - softer, this time.

#rainbow square writing #x reader #welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home x y/n #welcome home x you #wally darling #wally darling x reader #julie joyful #julie joyful x reader #sally starlet #sally starlet x reader #frank frankly #frank frankly x reader #eddie dear #eddie dear x reader #howdy pillar #howdy pillar x reader #barnaby b beagle #barnaby beagle #barnaby beagle x reader #poppy partridge #poppy partridge x reader

[ladyveravincent]

Oh, the Longing...

I found this scene that didn't make it into the final cut of the chapters, and thought... you know what. I like this!! Let's add this in. Will I ever be done editing this story? Probably not. Apologies, poor readers, I believe every time you read A Court of Bones in Bloom, it will be a different version. Anyway...

Excerpt from Chapter 7

“Elain?”

The music of laughter swelled then faded as the door to the River House was opened and then shut. 

Lost in thought, again. A state of being she seemed to find herself so often these days, either through restless dreams through the murky realm, or mindless days in the garden, or over lonely cups of tea. The twins were great company, and so were her sisters, but there was an incurable ache in her chest. 

“Nesta!” Elain blinked away the fog in her eyes before she turned to greet her sister. Early spring was a harsh time, but in Velaris, the stars still managed to twinkle despite the frost lingering at nighttime. 

“You’ll freeze in this weather, here take mine,” In a few short steps, Nesta’s shawl found its way around Elain’s shoulders, and her elder sister sat to join her on the stone steps of the veranda. 

“It seems that the edelweiss and bugloss will bloom in time for the ceremony.” A poor attempt to placate the silence. She had made a crucial mistake when Nesta and Cassian arrived at the family dinner. 

“Lainey!” Cassian chuckled as he glanced up from ravishing his mate. But those sharp gray eyes glanced at the disappointment on her sister’s face as she pushed past them out onto the lawn. Throughout dinner, Nesta’s gaze watched with utter scrutiny as Elain sat next to the empty table setting, and occasionally looked out the window, urgency in her brown eyes. 

“He’s not coming,” Nesta responded shortly as she helped her sister clear the dishes. When everyone went into the drawing room, Elain went to sit on the veranda to somehow try to hold the frustration and longing lodged in her chest. 

“Is that why you’re out here? You’re worried the flowers won’t be ready for my ceremony?”

“I just needed some air,” she replied tightly. A few tense moments passed before Nesta cut through the poorly veiled truth. 

“I’d like to think our relationship finally has healed over these past months, but the truth is, that I was absent from your life for a year. I missed out on a lot. But I’m still your older sister, and I know you. I can guess, I can gather, but unless you tell me, I can’t help you.”

“It’s not up to me.” 

“Fine. Just tell me when you’re ready.” The shawl was placed back on Nesta’s shoulders as Elain dashed toward the door. 

“At first I resisted it because the idea was just so… Fae. And no matter how many years we spend here, we’ll always be different.” 

An owl hooted in the distance. 

“It feels like nothing else like there’s nothing or no one else you’d ever want or need. That someone sees exactly who you are, and to your shock, you see them- all of them, too. It’s a connection that I often wonder what I did right to deserve it.” 

“Well then, I must’ve done something wrong.” 

“I always held the belief you’ll marry for love. And nothing, not even a mating bond, has changed that. And you know me, I’d never let you accept anything less.” 

Her fingers ran over the metal latch’s coolness to quell the fire in her throat. Could she tell Nesta everything? How far she was lost to him, and only him? Or did she suspect?

“I’ll bring the arrangements and pastries tomorrow around noon. See you then.” 

~

Azriel felt little satisfaction when his knife landed perfectly in the center of the wooden target. Another sleepless night spent in the training ring, somehow more favorable to the alternative, which was listening to his brother and his soon-to-be mate through the walls. Her gift proved useful, and whether or not it had, he would’ve loved it all the same. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you can’t kill a wooden beam.” Nesta stood on the balcony, arms crossed and her cold face painted with a glimmer of amusement. 

He threw the knife again and hit the target with deadly precision.

“You never know,” he shrugged.

Nesta scoffed and descended the stairs to join her friend. Azriel had always liked Nesta. There was an innate understanding between the pair. The icy rage within him recognized the cold sharpness in her, and to watch her learn to trust others again was nothing short of healing. As she passed, she briefly placed a sympathetic hand on his tense shoulder.

“We missed you at dinner.” The thump of the knife in the wood signaled another perfect target. Nesta leaned against the railing of the training ring while her long hair swayed in the wind.

“Cas and I placed bets about whether or not you’ll be at the ceremony.” Az eyed Nesta, removing the knife from the block with little effort.

“I’ll be there.”

“Will you?”

“Of course, Nesta.” 

“Oh good! Well, I’m now ten coins richer,” she said brightly.

“I’m surprised Cas wagered ten coins against me," he chuckled. Thump. Perfect target.

“He didn’t, he wagered five.”

“But you said you’re ten coins richer.” 

“Oh I did, didn’t I? Oh, well. I guess that means Elain owes me five, too.” The knife clanged on the ground, a full foot from its missed target.

“Lucky me,” Nesta whispered in glee. She triumphantly pushed off the railing to leave but stopped to pick up the knife off the floor.

“When will you say something?” Her cold face mirrored his icy one, holding their emotions so tightly to their chests. He said nothing as he rubbed the back of his neck, earning a sigh from Nesta for his silence.

“You know me, there’s nothing I hate more than when our family plays busybody. But, it's getting harder to watch my sister set out an extra plate every family dinner.”

Azriel’s heart stopped.

“Good night, Az.”

~ A Court of Bones in Bloom A03

#a03 fanfic #elain #elain x azriel #elriel #azriel and elain #azriel #acotar

[melaninmight]

hermosa

- miguel o'hara x reader | wc: 1.1k

– "all of this love is toxic."

₊˚ෆ ⋮ Miguel is on the hunt for Miles Morales. Not before paying a visit to the woman of his fan- dreams.

⪩⪨ ⋮ cw : dom! Miguel, switch! (sub leaning) reader, vaginal fingering, c00ch supper, pet names, oral, consensual sex

.ᐟ ⋮ disclaimer(s) : all characters are of age, and any sensual activity is consensual. the world of spider verse and characters are credit to respective creators. YN is visualized as a black woman; please be mindful if you're a non-black reader. Minors DNI !

ִ ࣪𖤐 ⋮ vibes : toxic – kehlani

Imagine being the lover of the intimidating, powerful, and ferocious Miguel O’Hara, the woman who garners sole access to a side of him that he wouldn’t dare showcase publicly to his colleagues nor residents of the Spider-Verse.

If there’s one thing you knew well about the man was his calculated efforts to suppress his true emotions since the loss of his daughter. Miguel’s drive to maintain the Spiderman legacy, followed by his distant demeanor, has left the both of you stagnant in the relationship. You were made aware of Miguel’s hunt for a certain boy, thanks to Peter keeping tabs with you about your man’s whereabouts. Of course, you didn’t blame Miles for his determination to change the narrative and to protect his father from upending death– if anything, you found his values admirable and crucial in ensuring change within the Spider Verse. Yet, much to dismay, this only led to arguments between you and Miguel, hence his distant disposition. 

Checking your phone, you scrolled through the previous messages sent the day before. 

Y: Worried about you.. Pete told me everything. Are you okay?

Sighing as he hadn’t responded, you turned your phone off and threw it across the bed. Your back pressed against the soft bedding, eyes fixated towards the ceiling as the fan blew cool air in the bedroom. Turning your body to Miguel’s side of the bed, the warm musk of his scent filled your nostrils; despite these tedious events, you missed him. You wanted– no, needed him. 

Just before you passed out, the sound of the front door unlocking pulled you out of bed, Miguel’s shirt flowing down your body like a dress once you entered the hallway, steering towards the door. 

Perfect timing.

Lo and behold, the righteous Miguel O’Hara entered the building. Closing the door behind, he whispered something in Spanish, back against the door as he glided a hand through his messy brown locks, his Adam’s apple throbbing from a dry mouth. Opening his crimson eyes, his gaze is fixated on the melanated beauty standing in the hallway, eyeing you up and down. 

Damn did you look sexy in his shirts…

“Took you long enough,” you teased as you stood in front of him, arms crossed.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I apologize, mi amor. Something came up.”

“Lemme guess, you're dealing with the kid?”

Miguel sighs. 

“He doesn’t understand the risk he’s imposing on the Spider-Verse. Stopping him is the only way to honor and secure the Spiderman lineage.”

You rolled your eyes, as you’ve heard the phrase more than once. Your hands rest on his chest, tracing the muscle behind it. 

“I don’t think Miles is to blame… his pretensions are risky, then again, perhaps change is what the Spider-Verse needs to break a generational curse. After all, that’s what you aspire to accomplish, right?”

A slight grin formed your lips as you heard Miguel’s ragged breaths upon your touch. 

Raising on your tippy toes, you blew into his ear, whispering.

“You’ve been stressed lately. Leaving me stranded in this condo by my lonesome. All those nights of yearning for those strong arms around me, your passionate kisses, and the sex.”

Hissing a breathy moan, you gazed up at him, hands caressing his sharp jawline, giggling from his awe-stricken visage, eyes glistening with longing lust. Your voice velvet as you spoke.

“Oh, how I missed the way you claim me, fucking me like your life depended on this pussy.~”

Immediately, Miguel shuts you up with a fervent kiss, arms gripping your waist. Breaths mingled, tongues clashing, he doesn’t hesitate to swoop you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his lower torso. Walking towards the bedroom and kicking the door shut, Miguel pins you down onto the bed without pulling away from the heated makeout. 

Oh how he has missed you, regretting the cold treatment towards you since the incident. His longing for you ate his spirit the longer he was away from you. Tonight, he ends that cycle. 

His lips parted ways with yours, a stretch of saliva breaking apart between wet lips, not before trailing love bites across your neck and chest. Biting your lip, you hummed from his latches on your breasts, releasing a gasp at the sensation of his tongue sucking, pulling, and twirling your sensitive nips. 

Miguel smirks, freeing your left breast with a pop! before proceeding to the right one, applying the same treatment.

“Aah~ fuck,” you whimper, head thrown back against the pillow. 

Growling, he releases your breast before aggressively stripping down your panties with no hesitation, face hovering your puffy pussy. Licking his lips, Miguel’s tongue got to work, lapping your pussy as though he were dehydrated. 

You couldn’t hold your moans any longer, hands tangled into his hair, toes curling amidst the warmth of his tongue the deeper he explored your wettened hole. The urge to release churned your stomach into a knot, your breaths and whimpers quavery. 

“P-Papi, I– close,” you whimpered once more, begging for release. 

Miguel chuckles, inserting two fingers inside you as his mouth pulled out, lips coated in your juices.

“Mi cariño, you’re so cute when you beg. Cum for me, baby.~”

Say less.. 

You gasped, your climax pooling down on his hand as your body shook from waves of pleasure. Miguel chuckled, raising his hand to swipe the juices, groaning as he savored your sweetness. 

“Heavenly,” he purred. 

Doe eyes watched him, cheeks flushed, your chest rising from the deep breaths after cooling down from your high. Using one foot, you subtly rubbed it against the hardened boner behind his pants, causing the man to release a shaky breath. 

“Impatient, are you? Relax, hermosa. Papi’s gonna take xtra great care of you.~”

Miguel rips off his suit, uncovering his toned chest, his cock hardened with pre-cum dripping from the tip. He was painfully hard and ready to smother your insides. He rubs his tip in between your puffy lips, moistening it with your juices before slowly pushing his way in. You shook underneath him, your hands slightly scratching his back, pushing your head forward to meet his lips for another frenzied kiss.

He growled against the kiss, his hips quickening pace the harder he thrusts inside you, pulling away to sink his fangs into your neck. Your nails dig deeper into his skin, the scratch marks scarcely bleeding, though he doesn’t budge. 

The harmonious sounds of moans and groans mixed with the beating of the headboard against the wall would cost an earful of your neighbor’s complaints. But, both of y’all didn’t care since Miguel had bought the entire unit.

Blissful, indeed.

— 🏷️ :: @tojibreedingme

𖦹 ⋮ requests: open

author's note: nothing. just miguel appreciation.

! do not copy/translate/post on other platforms. give credit where it’s due. !

𓂃 𝘱𝘴𝘴𝘴𝘵! you can also read this on my ao3 of the same name~ ;)

enjoy!

𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰,

ℒ

☺︎ 2023 melaninmight.

#melaninmight #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #miguel x reader #f!reader #poc reader #black reader #minors dni #minors fuck off #might edit later #<3333

[icanseethefuture333]

How do we manifest improved social life, like being popular in your town or having large groups of friends

"16 missed calls, sorry I was busy but I missed ya 💕"

I know social media and a social life is not the same but I noticed over the past year as I worked on my shadow work and becoming more accepting of myself. People have started giving me more attention on this blog. So therefore, just being yourself really and knowing that you have traits that are lovable is what will make people attracted to you. You can still be a flawed person and be considered likeable.

Also you have to understand having friends and being popular are two different things. Popularity to me is mostly just about receiving attention and it's very superficial, so people would like you at a surface level, not on a deep level. So if that's what you wish then that's fine, but if you want to form connections with people that are healthy and substantial, then you need to think about what you want to get out of your platonic relationships.

"Tryna get with you and yo friends"

I always say birds of a feather flock together. I can be selective about what people I associate myself with because if their behavior is pretty nasty and negative, I don't particularly want to surround myself around that energy. So you need to think about qualities would you want your friends to have? What unhealthy patterns do you keep repeating in your past friendships? Why are you alone currently? Have you've been a good friend as well? What do you truly desire from your social life? Once you written these things down, you can start having a clear idea of how you can attract that desire into your life

Here are some some positive list of traits or things a friendships should have:

Good communication. Misunderstandings and differences in personality can happen, but it is important to be able to mend those differences. If for example, your friend says "hey you like to go out for drinks but I don't like alcohol, could we perhaps do something else?" You'd could do something that makes you both comfortable. Or if a friend were to hurt your feelings, you should be able to talk about that and they can apologize.

Your friend makes sure you're okay in a moment of crisis.

They respect your boundaries when you say "no", don't wish to go out, or want to leave.

You equally both can depend on each other when it's necessary.

"I got your back, you got mine". This is a crucial one and it could apply to anything. For example, it's "girl code" to go to the bathroom together. Most women go to the bathroom together because that is where most abductions and assaults happen. So in order to protect each other they go together. Or even to discuss planning on leaving if someone makes you both uncomfortable.

Some negative traits or things a friendship can have:

Your friend is a closet hater. I notice this is something that's subtle and not as obvious, you have to catch it on time. It's more so like passive aggression and you'd have to be able to get the fake expression and tone of sarcasm. "Oh my god yeah, you sure do love to eat 😃😊🙄" is one way someone could take jabs at you. Don't gaslight yourself when it happens. If you noticed there was a twinge of jealousy or pettiness in their comment. Address it when you feel calm and express how that wasn't okay. If they dismiss it and treat you like you're being dramatic, that person is not being a good friend.

You and your friend behave like "mean girls". Meaning this person just brings out the worse in you and doesn't elevate you as a person. You just act like bitter bitches together.

They steal, lie, cheat, commit crimes, etc. I don't even know how people are friends with people who have no sense of morals just because they did them a favor growing up. It's absurd. You owe nothing to that person and even if that person did something nice for you doesn't mean you have to stay friends.

They're a freeloader or stingy with their money. This is self explanatory. I don't like people who use their friends for money or gifts, its very tacky. Especially if they don't ever do it in return. Unless that person helps you in other ways such as helping you clean your house or helped you get a job. I don't think it's appropriate for them to constantly take money from you. It's just giving sugar daddy/mommy at that point.

Another tip is that if you are someone with a disability (autism for example) you can ask your friends to use tone indicators when texting or if you have trouble with understanding social cues, you can ask them politely what do they mean by that or have a signal you can both use when you are feeling a certain emotion (thumbs down = sad, thumbs up = happy, clenched fist = angry, etc). It will be easier to understand what they are trying to express.

Doing research on body language can also help understand a pattern in people's behavior and who has true intentions or not.

How to use self concept to your advantage.

Let's check your thoughts and see why it could be potentially blocking you from making friends. If you think things like "oh no one likes me", "I'm so weird", or "that person is so cool, they would never hang out with me". Stop it!!! Don't ever in your life put people on a pedestal! Don't even put yourself on the pedestal, that concept is so stupid to me, it just creates a big ego. See this person as your equal. You see qualities in them that you like because they are reflecting a part of your soul that is beautiful as well. You are drawn to one another for a reason. Have the mindset that you attract positive and uplifting friendships easily because you have the same energy as well.

Now if you're a shy person, I know it can be hard to approach people, or feeling comfortable in crowds. You can just always start small. If you have a class with someone that you like or have similar interests with. You can sit next to them and ask them about their day. Eventually things will feel naturally because you are creating a routine with this person and there is a flow going on. Just be patient and understand it takes a while for some people to come around. People can have trouble trusting and need to if you're being genuine with them. So try not to force it if they aren't as warm at first. They're still trying to get to know you and you should do that as well.

Let's use Hello Kitty for example. She is known for being friends with many and loved and adored by all! She is a friendly person and in most shows that she's in, her ability to connect with people is quite effortless. Hello Kitty just be's herself! That's what makes her so special along with her ability to show love through her actions, not just words.

Now think about the term "social life". It's a part of your life where you're socializing, meaning you're letting people take away some or your valuable time. What do you wish to do with your social life? Now there's nothing with partying and it can be fun but there's so much more than going to the club, getting drunk, etc. You can make a vision board of your dream life, the kind of people you wish to meet, and what activities you wish to do with them.

Here a list of hobbies you can do with friends that aren't just about partying or clubbing:

Go to an art museum

Visit a botanical garden

Play tennis together

Take a pilates class

Go to the gym

Have a sleepover

Take a trip to the beach

Start a book club

Go out on a picnic

I hoped this helped, anon. Now go out there and make some friends! 👭

#advice #manifestation #law of assumption #law of attraction #friendship #friends #soulmate #soul connections #it girl #divine feminine

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

TKATB - Theories, wahoo.

This will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).

This is mostly based off things I've picked apart and/or kinda pieced together. If you feel I'm incorrect, or am missing something; hell, if you have any theories of your own, please share!

Anyway, the actual theories (apologies in advance if the rambling is...uh...too rambly).

- Okay, so considering the fact Jess was moved into the ‘Lower Class’ school, it means that she either failed a class or got a ‘violation’ (those are the conditions for being moved down, according to Hyugo). Brittney mentioned how ‘confident and loud’ Jess is when she’s angry, and Brittney apparently was popular at some point, but lost it at the party (it was mentioned a few times by Deryl) 2 years ago due to an incident. I think maybe Brittney was being bullied and Jess lost her shit, maybe even got physical? And that led to the duo being sent to the ‘Lower Class’ school.

- Subaru (Geo) and Hyugo are mentioned to be brothers, but Hyugo says “Subaru! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”, which could mean Geo (due to him being rich af) was moved down as well??? Hyugo and Geo are brothers but have different surnames, so I have a feeling (also because Geo is said to have daddy issues by Fantasia herself), that maybe Subaru Oogami and Hyugo Sugimoto aren’t related.

- Continuing that, Hyugo is the ‘traitor’ that the ‘Rough-Voiced Man’ was looking for in the cinema, so he’s obviously affilated with some dodgy people, and we know he hates injustice, so perhaps he is a mercenary or assassin of sorts (he did canonically kill somebody, with Sol witnessing it, check Fantasia’s twitter); and that could be why Geo avoids him? Hell, why does Subaru even go by Geo? Is it a codename, like Geo Sugimoto, is he hiding his real identity?

- With the person who threatened MC and their father with taking the farm, and the Marie Antoinette references, maybe the ‘handsome man’ is Crowe’s father? Hell, maybe even Eries, the fuchsia-eyed celebrity Jess loves. Along with that, the 'moral' I suppose of her biography was along the lines of: change is inevitable, either you deny it, or accept it. It'll happen anyway, what changes is your role and reaction to it (say you choose Crowe, Sol'll lose his marbles; if you choose Sol, Crowe might move on...unless he's also insane but I doubt it).

- Flowers seem to be important symbolism-wise, like the carnation and passionflower mentions made by Crowe (carnations can mean love for someone, or purity if white, or rejection/disappointment if yellow. Passionflowers mean renewal and hope I think). Brugmansia is also a poisonous flower, so it hints to Sol being a ‘poison’ that could kill us.

- I've seen this mentioned by @sweet-herbal-peach-tea (I'm sorry for tagging you anon, I wanted to credit you; also check their theories out as well anons), but I'll add it here anyway: With the prominence of Edgar Allan Poe's 'Annabel Lee', it could hint to Sol having loved us either in a past life...or...maybe we - the MC - look identical to a past lover of his, one who maybe passed; and he's deluded himself into thinking we are them?

Now for my favourite ones:

- The Hallow’s Ball, the event Deryl mentions on the groupchat, is on Friday. Assuming the game will be 7 days long and that Day 1 is Monday, that means Day 5 is crucial. It could be a catalyst, hell it may even decide what ending you get (Fantasia said there’ll probably be about 5, 1 true, 2 good, 2 bad; albeit that could change). Geo mentions he doesn’t want to go, neither does Brittney, but I think she will due to the fact Jess is. It may decide whether you choose Crowe or Sol, along with finalising relations with the other characters.

- Hyugo also mentions ‘taking care of Sol for him’, implying his absence…or even death. Hyugo pulls a gun on a person who seems to know him, maybe the boss of a crime syndicate? Hyugo hates injustice, so maybe the missing persons cases are being caused by people Hyugo knows, and he wants to stop them? I think if Hyugo vanishes (hell, it’s already known that he doesn’t always show up to class), it might be a way to get more info out of Geo.

That’s all I got off the top of my head lol, if it seems janky, I'm sorry. ;^

And uuh...yeah. This is my first Tumblr post so yeah. Love this Visual Novel and cannot wait to see more! (Especially of Geode lmfao).

#the kid at the back sol #geo subaru oogami #sol brugmansia #the kid at the back #tkatb sol #crowe ichabod #jericho crowe ichabod #hyugo sugimoto #tkatb hyugo #the kid at the back hyugo #geo oogami #tkatb vn #brittney claire #jessie sitrus #deryl helianthus #i love this visual novel so much #repost #reminder that geo is superior #geo(de)

[mikuni14]

We Are - Ep 4

PhumPeem As a shallow person who forgives a lot of characters if they are played by a pretty actor, and as a boomer raised on toxic yaoi manga, this couple is still in my first place 🤡 I look at them with mixed feelings. Hope, because Phum improved a lot in this episode, he apologized - even several times, but most importantly, he said that he was an asshole, didn't look for excuses and tried to make amends. This is crucial for me: not only an apology, but also awareness of what has been done, owning it and compensation (which I mentioned many times during DFF analyses, because THIS was missing there). But I also don't trust them yet, because PondPhuwim had their other series start off quite well, only to disgust me later with the inequalities and simple toxicity in relationships (and yes, even their prettyness didn't help lol). PhumPeem as of this episode have a dynamic that I like, that is, they are both strong characters, with an air of adulthood mixed with a childish banter, acts of service and mutual attraction mixed with keeping a distance and lingering distrust on Peem's part. Plus a "handsome big bad boy" in engineering and a "beautiful artist" - as a yaoi boomer, I am completely defenseless against such a couple 🤡 What intrigues me about them is that they are clearly interested in each other, they are probably types for each other and if it weren't for the stupid and unfortunate beginning of their relationship, it's quite possible that they would have already had their first hook-up and their relationship would be more adult and in my style, and their problems would be more problems of mature people. I'm a little concerned about the speed at which this relationship is moving, knowing that there are 16 episodes. Good lord, what are they thinking of to fill 11 episodes when the boys will probably kiss in the next one? I can only imagine 😬

QToey A very enjoyable pairing that started for me with the scene in the last episode where Q is possessive and doesn't let anyone take care of Toey. I admit that I'm not a big fan of this couple, probably because Q is too dominant in this relationship for me, due to his character, personality and the fact that I like him A LOT. But I'm starting to warm up to them 😉

TanFang Pretty much the same situation: Tan dominates this couple so much for me that I don't see them as a couple at all yet. Besides, I don't really know what Fang's feelings and intentions are, because there simply isn't enough of him.

ChainPun I'm not interested in this couple ngl. Characters like Pun have to have really well-written roles so as not to come off as irritating or cartoonish (something like Khem from The Sign), or so that this kind of personality type doesn't dominate the ENTIRE character.

After 4 episodes, I can say that I'm most interested in Peem, Q and Tan, their relationship, their friendship, their lives, their characters. This is actually pretty funny because they are SO interesting to me that I am more fascinated by their interactions with each other than with their respective partners 😄 (with the exception of Phum, who is a strong enough character to be able to match Peem). But I freely admit that the most interesting scenes in this episode belonged to these three and had nothing to do with romance 😉

👆This was actually the best scene from this episode 😆

#we are the series #bl drama #thai bl

[lotusrue]

Muu & the Significance of Her Shoe

Okay hi, I’ve poked around the Milgram fandom on tumblr and I’ve finally decided to write out an analysis/theory on my own - I don’t think it’s super well known but I’m also not super present in Milgram tumblr, so if I’m beating a dead horse here ignore me, but I think a crucial part many people miss about Muu’s crime is the significance her shoe plays. It’s quite literally, in my opinion, the difference between forgiven and unforgiven in my eyes

(TW below for s/h, bullying, and murder (for my mutuals who don’t know what Milgram is))

Alright, so the deal with Muu’s shoe - the right one specifically - is how it’s been drawn off her foot. It’s not excessively common, but it made an appearance in her anniversary art-

-and it’s important to note this is not a metaphor for anything. In only a few frames of After Pain, it can be seen as Muu kills Rei, on the ground and clutching the knife that her right shoe is off her foot, sitting behind her.

If you didn’t already see where I was going with this, it points towards Muu tripping.

Muu was at her breaking point when the murder occurred. In the scene just before, she was on the bathroom floor, being looked down on, laughed at, and photographed by the girls she was previously in a sort of clique with. Eventually, they disperse, leaving only Rei who walks away saying nothing after a moment.

This is clearly shown to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back: Muu runs out of the building, floundering and blurry-eyed with tears. Rei stops and turns towards her as Muu reaches her and catches her breath, Muu tries to say something to her, Rei tries to turn away and..

The scene cuts to Muu stabbing Rei with a box knife, then shows Rei dead while Muu sits before her, staring down at the knife and heaving.

Everything in this scene, from Muu in the real world to the hourglass symbolism, depicts that this was a genuine shock for Muu. Muu looks purely terrified both as she’s stabbing Rei and after as she stares down at the knife realizing what she’s done. The hourglass doesn’t suffocate her as it would’ve, it shatters - this wasn’t meant to happen.

You’ll notice in the scene just before the murder, Muu is having water poured on her by the girls in the bathroom. She’s lying down in water, and to leave she would undoubtedly be getting her shoes wet. Combine wet shoes with blurry vision, stumbling, and desperately chasing after somebody, and it makes sense that Muu would fall.

Why she had the box knife on her in the first place is more tricky to explain. My personal theory is that it ties some way into self-harm. Box knives specifically are often used in depictions of self-harm (Menhera-chan is a good example), and knowing what we know about Muu’s mental state at the time, I don’t think it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility. Muu would likely have never dealt with anything of such magnitude, and egotistical as she may be, I don’t doubt she genuinely felt the whole world was against her at the moment. I think there’s many means by which she could’ve turned to self-harm, and because of the sheer variety of reasons different people have for it it’s difficult to speculate what her’s might have been, but I do know I’d understand if by some way she ended up there.

So, to summarize this theory with as little bias as possible:

Muu had taken to carrying the murder weapon around with her, as a result of a growing habit of self-harm. After school and a particularly bad encounter with the girls who’d turned on her, Muu’s left both physically and mentally unstable - she’s clutching her knife (having just self-harmed or initially about to) her vision blurs, her steps are shaky, she’s fumbling to catch Rei, etc. She finally catches up to Rei who turns to hear her, tries to apologize and put an end to it all.. but Rei only begins to turn away. Panicked and desperate, Muu reaches out to grab Rei once more, and her shoe slips off. She trips, knife in hand, and before she can do anything about it she’s stabbed and killed Rei.

She’d never meant for it to go so far. It’s important not to forget that Muu is in high school, and for the most part, she’s had a relatively normal life. Sure, she certainly wouldn’t like Rei or any of the girls who turned on her, but never had she intended to kill any of them.

The following part is more blatantly biased, it’s me advocating for forgiven Muu LOL - I think my phrasing in general has been generally biased towards her, but I do want to make it clear Muu is not a good person.

It’s Not My Fault makes it clear she has a faulty understanding of her role in the whole situation. If it weren’t for her initial behavior, this never would’ve happened in the first place. She’s insanely vain and controlling over who she calls her ‘friends’ and shows to mercy should they ever go against her or not even simply not attend to her every whim.

Muu expects utter obedience from everyone, and when she doesn’t get it, she ruins them. She’s not a good person.

But she’s not a murderer.

At least for the murder specifically, she’s a victim of circumstance - she couldn’t have predicted tripping, and I don’t think she ever intended to pull the box knife on Rei. You can see on her face just how horrified she is at herself when she sees what she’s done and while the hourglass shatters around her. She’s a high schooler in high school drama, and then all too suddenly it’s escalated way beyond comprehension, and more than ever she feels she needs to shift the blame to anything other than herself.

‘It was an accident’ doesn’t just cut it, as seen in the T2 voice drama where she openly says she had ‘no way out but to kill someone’ or that it was ‘revenge’. Honestly I think she’s lying here just based off the pure shock she had on her face and the fact that she probably thinks she was voted Forgiven without the knowledge that she tripped - if the Warden perceives ‘revenge’ as Forgiven, then of course it was for the sake of revenge. I think that’s also partially why she says “What was it called again… Revenge… Revenge? That means revenge can be [an acceptable motivator], right? And if you don’t forgive me this time, that’d mean that it’s not.” I interpreted this as sort of gauging why Es voted her Forgiven and hinting that she in a sense changed her mindset to almost convince herself it was a revenge-oriented murder, as that’s what Es has forgiven

This is a take on Muu I don’t see super often, probably because I’m a heavy Muu sympathizer. Obviously 💀 But I think it’d be fun just to put it out there even if it has quite a few holes

That’s about all from me, if anything’s off in my interpretations it’s because I’ve been stuck in Reverse 1999 hell and I’m steadily easing back into Milgram 😭😭 I’ve forgotten a bit of my previous analyses of Muu ngl

This is very far-fetched speculation please keep that in mind LOL

#milgram #milgram project #mu kusunoki #muu kusunoki #kusunoki mu #kusunoki muu