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#there are way too many characters to tag on here
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So with some of the takes I've been seeing in the Wandee Goodday tag, I wanted to share my perspective.
Just to note - I firmly believe art is subjective and what we see can vary a great deal based on our own perspectives and lived experiences. I'm not calling anyone wrong, I'm just saying this is my personal take on things. (I feel like this should be obvious, but nuance is so often lost online).
And my main goal with watching QL is fun and escapism. I'm here to have a good time. I tend to go with the flow, I like imperfect characters (I even like the fucked-up ones), and I trust the characterization and plot elements to be doing what they need to do until a problem shows within the narrative itself.
Ok, disclaimers done - here's my take on Dee & Yak's interactions around the fake dating idea.
I think all of their interactions are deeply affected by the degree to which they have already developed genuine feelings for each other, but are not yet in a place to admit it, even to themselves.
Do I think Yak has real concerns about being out as a boxer trying to hit a career high? Absolutely. But I think his quick jump to a "let's end this" reaction was mostly a kneejerk attempt to protect himself for what he felt when Dee, the man he is already emotionally connected to, and desperately wants to be able to kiss, dropped a request for fake dating over a real deepening of their relationship.
We don't yet know the level of societal homophobia this show is aiming for, BL land can go many different ways with this, but considering his brother's openness in the gym that he owns, training boxers, there is a tone being set. Yak literally holds hands with Dee in the middle of the street. He doesn't panic when people recognize him at the hospital. This may change, but I'm going to trust the signposts that his career concerns are valid, yes, but are not the dominant issue between them.
Similarly, is Dee competitive and overly focused on winning? Clearly. It's set up in his earlier conversation with Yak for a reason. But at the same time, his insistence that it has to be Yak is not just about his need to win - again, this is about genuine feeling. He wants Yak. This is a way to get Yak, and to frame it to himself in a way that feels less scary and vulnerable, especially after being hurt by Ter.
I know a lot of people saw Dee as being pushy. I do agree with that, and yes it is going to cause more issues for them in the future. But I wish more people also saw Yak holding firm to his boundaries and refusing to give in to the immature behavior from Dee, showing why he's such a good partner for Dee.
And sure, we haven't seen Dee support Yak as much so far, but the scene with the mother and child wasn't there just for kicks. Dee is empathetic and caring, and that will be important in his relationship with Yak as well. He is there for people when things are at their worst.
Some people see Dee on the bridge as being manipulative.
I saw Dee as finally cutting out the toddler shit and being emotionally real about why he's taking the scholarship too seriously, how sensitive he is to what people think of him, why Yak is someone he trusts implicitly, and how he knows it's not Yak's problem and it isn't fair to expect him to fix it.
Some people see Yak as finally agreeing to fake date as showing he is weak to emotional manipulation.
I see a man who has more agency than that. I see a man who is affected by seeing genuine vulnerability both because of how caring he is as an individual, and because of how much he wants a real emotional connection to Dee. And eyes-open, he makes a choice.
These are two characters who have never just been friends with benefits from the beginning. And the narrative has never been about what they are saying. It's about what they are feeling.
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Ameliorate
Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer
Rating: Explicit- Minors DNI (18+ only)
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Sanemi/Female Reader
Tags: Female Reader, Penis in Vagina Sex, Bad Dates, Brief Mentions of SA, Oral Sex, Protective Genya, Protective Sanemi, Fucking you better, Slight Self-Esteem Issues, Mating Press, Sexual Tension, Sanemi is a lovable asshole
Wordcount: 5k
Ameliorate: To make something unsatisfactory better
After a bad date you spill the beans that you think Genya's brother is hot and he decides to fuck the memory of your shitty date out of you.
Cross-posted from my AO3 account.
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8627 45th Street SOS pls pick me up ASAP
The hastily sent text was minimal, blunt, and out of character for you. Usually, your messages were sprinkled with extraneous words, emojis, and “please” and “thank you”. You had no time for flowery language today; you needed a quick extraction.
You were hidden in the bathroom, date passed out on the bed after possibly the worst sex you’d ever experienced- for how long, you weren’t sure. Hopefully just enough for you to get out of here.
You weren’t known for making the best decisions and tended to go along with things longer than you wanted to in the name of politeness. It had landed you in many shitty situations, but this was by far the worst one. You rinsed your mouth with water in an attempt to wash the taste of the man who’d been far too rough with you from your palate, holding back the need to gag. You’d done enough of that today, and it was barely noon; a striking contrast to how you felt.
Your phone vibrated, Genya’s number lighting up the screen. You answered it with shaky fingers, keeping your voice low as you spoke.
“Hey.”
You hated how raspy it sounded. That’s what happens when an asshole doesn’t listen when you tell him to be gentle.
“You okay?” Genya’s concerned voice came through the speaker. “We’re almost there; what’s up?”
You appreciated Genya’s swift response but stiffened at his words.
“We?”
“I’m out with Nemi,” Genya told you.
Sanemi.
Genya’s big brother, and the last person you wanted to see you in this state. You couldn’t afford to be picky, though, when you were stranded at a stranger’s house after a variety of bad decisions.
“Just text me when you’re outside. Don’t honk or anything.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yeah…”
Just having a shitty day.
“We’re just around the corner,” Genya informed you.
“Okay. Be out in a sec.”
You hung up the phone and wished between your legs didn’t ache so badly, wished you weren’t half-limping from everything. There were likely bruises on your wrists and thighs, probably on your ass too if you were being honest. Under different circumstances you would’ve been proud of them, but today you only felt disgust.
You’d been so stupid.
Shuffling out of the bathroom on your tiptoes, you crept past the bedroom door that was left ajar, catching a glance at the man who’d cajoled until you caved, then didn’t listen when you said you weren’t fucking ready yet.
So stupid.
You berated yourself as you softly closed the door behind you for your walk of shame to the vaguely familiar SUV parked on the street. Genya twisted to look at you from the passenger seat as you slid in, avoiding his eyes. You knew you looked like a mess: mascara had streaked, and eyeliner was smudged, hair mussed beyond its normal windswept tousle, and it was a miracle that the majority of the damage inflicted on you was covered by your turtleneck.
“No car?”
“In the shop for repairs,” you kept your eyes glued out of the window, knowing Genya was worried but ashamed to meet his gaze. “I appreciate the ride. Didn’t mean to encroach on bro-time.”
“Not a problem,” Sanemi’s voice cut through the air as he pulled away. You shivered at his words, wetting your lips nervously. “You weren’t too far out of the way.”
“You okay?” Genya asked.
You wrinkled your nose, fighting the shame that filled your throat.
“Bad date.”
The following silence was uncomfortable, leaving you shifting against the leather seats. You knew Genya was probably fighting the urge to ask you if you wanted him to kick someone’s ass, and Sanemi… well, you didn’t know what he thought but you sure could guess what someone might think when they saw what you looked like after exiting a man’s house.
“Hungry?”
The question broke you out of your thoughts, and you caught Sanemi’s gaze in the rearview mirror. You’d eaten a couple hours ago, but after the day you’d had, you were starving. You didn’t realize how tense you were until just now, melting into the seat.
“Yeah, food sounds great.”
“Nemi and I were gonna grab something and then marathon Star Wars,” Genya told you. “You down?”
Your eyes flickered between the two brothers.
“Is that okay?”
“You’re over all the time already,” Sanemi replied nonchalantly.
It was true: you often dropped in or crashed at their place after work or on your days off to hang out with Genya. The two of you had been fast friends since you both worked the same shifts at work during high school. You’d moved on to other things, as had Genya, but your friendship had remained and grown as you did.
Sanemi worked quite a bit to provide for his younger brother and himself after an accident that left both of them orphans, and he was often gone when you and Genya hung at his place, but he’d found a better job recently that left him with more days off. With his schedule freed up a bit, he’d been around more while you crushed Genya at Mario Kart and experimented with new recipes in their spacious kitchen.
Sanemi had been little more than a passing thought before, but since seeing him more frequently, you’d developed a fascination with the scarred man with the shock of white hair. It wasn’t like the crushes you’d had on other guys- giddy, giggling things- but instead a hot coal in your stomach that left you uncomfortable and squirming when he was nearby. Sanemi was short-tempered and gruff, and had a permanent scowl on his face, but something about him made butterflies sprout in your chest.
It made you feel foolish, and you knew you’d die if Sanemi ever found out. You’d gone to great lengths to put physical and emotional distance between the two of you, a practiced civility that bordered on cold. It was the only way you could manage to keep yourself in check around him.
With the food acquired (taco bell was Genya’s favorite, much to Sanemi’s disdain), the three of you were back at the Shinaguzawa household in record time. Genya plopped on the couch, patting the seat next to him. You hesitated, the stickiness under your clothes itching uncomfortably now.
“Here,” Sanemi appeared out of thin air, thrusting a towel into your hands. “You know where the shower is.”
Your face heated as you slunk away, disappearing into the tiled bathroom. You must have looked pretty rough if Sanemi was telling you to shower.
Genya furrowed his brows disapprovingly at his brother as you vanished.
“I know you’re trying to help, but you should really work on how you talk to people.”
“Why?” Sanemi settled on the far end of the sofa.
Genya pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Because,” he groaned. “You don’t have tact.”
“I was giving her a towel; why does that need tact?” Sanemi turned the television on. “She obviously wanted a shower.”
“You’re useless,” Genya dug out his burrito. “It’s no wonder nobody will date you.”
Sanemi snatched the food from Genya with a glare, pushing him away with a socked foot when Genya complained and reached for the stolen bag.
“Biting the hand that feeds you means you’re gonna lose the food,” Sanemi told him.
“Genya!”
Your voice from down the hall had the younger brother craning his neck, Sanemi leaning back to peer down the dim hall curiously.
“I’m stealing some of your clothes,” you exited Genya’s room, holding up a handful of cloth. “And I’m borrowing your washer.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Genya nodded, watching you disappear into the bathroom.
The silence as Sanemi set up the movie was relaxed. Genya fished his food from the bag and set it far away from his brother, disposing of the trash as the sound of water reached their ears.
“So I guess you two aren’t fucking then?”
Genya choked on his burrito, slamming his fist into his chest. When he finally could breathe again, he turned his red face towards Sanemi with a glare.
“What the hell would give you that impression?”
“Look,” Sanemi plucked a cinnamon twist from its spot nestled in fast food paper. “I see you guys hanging out all the time. You’re close. I just figured-”
“We’re friends,” Genya cut him off. “She literally was on a date with someone today.”
“A shitty one,” Sanemi interjected.
Genya rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, a shitty one. I swear she’s got the worst luck when it comes to dating. It’s like she’s an asshole magnet.”
“This happened before?”
Sanemi’s interest was piqued. He’d grown curious about the girl who showed up at the house to keep Genya company and use the kitchen at odd hours. You were incredibly sweet but had a sassy streak around people you were comfortable with. He’d heard you swear like a sailor over losing a game, but even from the next room over he could hear the grin in your tone. It did confuse him how you’d go from acting like you were in your own house while Genya was there, to suddenly stiffening and growing formally polite around him.
“Yeah, like four or five times. Usually, I’ll hear about it the next day, but she’s never called for a ride before.”
“She should’ve just told the guy no date until her car is fixed,” Sanemi took a swig of his drink. “That’d fix that problem. Can’t help with the bad taste in men, though.”
“I don’t have bad taste.”
Your voice cut the air sharply, and the brothers twisted around to see you standing behind the couch, hair damp and body swallowed by Genya’s clothes. Your embarrassed face was juxtaposed by the glare plastered across it. A few pale bruises peeked above the loose collar of the borrowed shirt.
“Then how do you explain consistently shit dates?” Sanemi countered, raising a brow.
Your face burned and you ducked your head between your shoulders.
“…bad luck?”
The white-haired man snorted into his cup. You scowled, plopping down on the couch next to Genya.
“I can’t help it men are pigs who don’t know what the word ‘no’ means,” you bit back, hackles raised at Sanemi’s reaction.
You didn’t think the air could get more uncomfortable, but here you were, starting to squirm as you did your best to avoid the piercing gazes of the Shinazugawa brothers. Genya’s whole body had leaned forward as his hands dug into the couch. Sanemi’s normal resting bitch face hardened farther and his eyes narrowed to pinpricks.
“I’ve got a crowbar in the garage-”
“Nemi!” Genya elbowed him before quickly turning back to you. “Unless… I mean unless you wanted-”
“No!” you shook your head, covering your face. This night was just getting worse the more you had to talk about everything. “I just want to forget about it. Can we watch the movie please?”
Familiar music filled the air as Star Wars began to play. You honestly didn’t care for the franchise all that much but it was a welcome distraction from your morning. You inhaled your food before snuggling down into the couch your lids grew heavy. You finally let them shut, unable to stay awake any longer as the hum of conversation and sound effects melted into the background.
Your dreams were staticky and punctuated by odd dialogue filtering in through your ears from the movies playing, but eventually you fell into a dead sleep, mind dark and empty as the exhaustion caught up to you.
When you jolted awake, the sun had gone down and the curtains were drawn, leaving the living room dark. The couch’s raised fabric pattern was imprinted on your cheek, accompanied by drool trickling from your open mouth.
Gross.
You wiped it away with the back of your hand, sitting upright. The living room was empty, food wrappers cleaned up and a fuzzy blanket laid over your body. Sanemi and Genya were nowhere to be seen. You pushed yourself up, reaching for your phone.
10:18PM.
Genya would normally still be up at this time. You picked yourself up off the couch and padded down the hall, knocking on his door.
No answer.
You opened it slowly, not wanting to get an eyeful if he was in the middle of choking his chicken or something else that would scar you for life. His room was entirely empty, bed uncharacteristically neat. Eyebrows knit together to create a crease.
“Do you always creep around like an intruder?”
Sanemi’s voice made you jump, spinning around to face him. You clutched your chest where your heart beat erratically from the scare, trying to hold back a scowl.
“Jesus Christ dude,” you spit out when you finally caught your breath. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Sanemi crossed his arms. “Walk through my own house?”
“Surprise me,” you took a step back, gathering your wits. “In the dark.”
Sanemi reached over with one hand, flipping the light switch. The sudden harsh illumination made you squint, which did nothing to make your face look less irritable.
“Genya got called into work about two hours ago,” Sanemi answered your unspoken question. “He said you could use his bed if you wanted to.”
You peered back into the room behind you. Sanemi probably wouldn’t want to drive you home, so you supposed you could crash in Genya’s bed for the night. Wouldn’t have been the first time, and probably not the last. Genya always insisted you take his bed if you stayed the night anyway. He claimed the couch was more comfortable (a lie if you’d ever heard one).
“If it’s no trouble,” you pulled the blanket tighter. “I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”
Sanemi let out a long sigh, leaving you to side-eye him as he rolled his shoulders. When he finally quieted and brought his attention back to you, he looked both pissed and concerned.
“Is it something I did?”
You blinked owlishly, cocking your head.
“What?”
“You always do this,” he gestured to you. “You’re relaxed and chill when Genya’s here, but the moment I show up you get all… frosty. Did I say something to offend you?”
You shifted from one foot to the other, opening your mouth briefly before snapping it shut, trying to think before you said anything stupid. It didn’t work, as per usual.
“N-no, you just make me nervous-”
Sanemi’s face briefly reminded you of a kicked puppy, and you felt horrible. Of course he’d assume you were frightened of him because of his scars. You chided yourself mentally, attempting to fix your mistake.
“N-not like that!” you lifted your hands to wave them wildly, and the blanket slipped to the floor and puddled around your feet. “I just-you make me nervous because you’re hot!”
Both of you froze this time, and your face lit up bright red, ears burning as your mouth fell open and eyes bugged out at your slip of the tongue. You wished you could melt into the wooden floorboards of the hall.
Sanemi broke out of his stupor first, a slow grin spreading across his face. You would’ve run if you hadn’t been rooted to the floor in humiliation.
“Oh, is that it?” he leaned down, resting one palm flat against the doorframe near your head.
His face was close-too close to yours to be completely comfortable. You turned your head away, trying to calm your racing heart. There’s no way Sanemi was flirting with you. He was probably just being an asshole, right?
Right?
“Genya isn’t the only one who has a bed,” Sanemi’s smirk was crooked, eyes half lidded. His face swiftly softened when he noted your eyes flickering to your left and right like a frightened rabbit. He took a step back, allowing you your personal space again.
“Sorry,” he apologized, eyes gentle amidst the sharp planes of his face. “You just had a shitty date and here I am being a bad host. You’re probably tired.”
You hadn’t seen this side of Sanemi before much. You were used to his cocky glares and barking laughter. Not this gentle tone like someone coaxing a horse.
“You’re not bad,” you burst out, wanting to ease the tense atmosphere. “I just- I don’t… know how to act around you.”
Your face burned. How many embarrassing confessions would you make tonight? You were already at two and counting.
“I’m not a pig,” Sanemi echoed your words from earlier. “I know how to take a ‘no’.”
“I-it’s not a no!”
Sanemi’s gaze snapped back to you, shocked but curious. You bit your lip, clenching your fists.
“It’s… not a no. I’m just not sure-”
“If you’re not sure, then it’s the same thing,” Sanemi picked the blanket up from off the floor and looping it around your shoulders like a cape.
Your fingers snagged it without a second thought, anchoring it in place where he’d laid it. You weren’t sure where your eyes should settle, but risked peeking up at him. His eyes rested on your visage with a gentleness that rivaled the brush of his fingers as they withdrew from fabric around your body. Those lilac eyes were a little curious, a little resigned, and a little hungry.
You reached out with one hand, hooking your fingers in the hem of his shirt. He paused. You took a deep breath and stepped forward.
“I want you,” you maintained eye contact as you spoke- quite the feat when your heart was trying to escape through your throat.
Sanemi stared at you as if trying to gauge your sincerity.
“Please?” you tacked on as an afterthought, suddenly afraid that he’d laugh in your face or- worse- reject you outright for some other reason. You could thin of a million, but the one you worried most about was him thinking you were some kind of loose woman who slept around-
Hands threaded through your hair, and you felt lips on your own. You melted into the unexpected touch, anxiously moving closer until you were fully pressed against Sanemi’s body. Heat rolled off him comfortingly, and your hands twisted in his white tank top. His teeth nipped against your lower lip, forcefully requesting entrance. You granted it, running your tongue along his teeth, tasting mint and the faintest lingering bitterness of tobacco.
Cigarettes.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” you whispered as he broke away for a breath.
A brief embarrassed guilt flashed across his features before he shrugged.
“I’m working on quitting. Don’t want Genya to think it’s okay but… we all have our vices.”
You laughed, reaching up to touch his hair.
“Genya tried cigs and isn’t a fan, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
The look on Sanemi’s face was comical, and you held in a giggle. He glared behind you in the direction of Genya’s bed.
“The little fucker-”
“Hey, he’s a good kid,” you insisted, feeling more at ease speaking with Sanemi now that his hands were around your waist. It was both soothing and thrilling.
Sanemi crowded you against the wall, dropping his head until your gazes were level. His eyes bored into yours and it felt as if you were suddenly being interrogated.
“You two really aren’t fucking?”
The question took you aback a little bit, but you shook your head.
“He’s like my little brother.”
Sanemi’s grin split across his face, crooked and sharp. Your stomach fluttered as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, fanning his breath across your lips.
“Good. Because I’m taking you.”
Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, you were lifted off your feet and carried- with an undignified squeal- through the hall and into Sanemi’s room. When he dropped you on the bed, the air left your lungs in a gasp, and it took a second to get your bearings.
“If you say stop, or no, at any point,” Sanemi’s shirt was whipped off over his head as he approached the bed, “I’ll back off. If you can’t speak, tap me three times.”
Your eyes locked on his torso as you nodded dumbly, taking in the muscles and scars across his ribs and pecs, down his sides and crowning his hips. It took everything in you to tear your vision away to meet his face as he crawled over you, running his hand up your neck until he cradled your jaw.
“Now… how about I make you forget all about that shitty fucking guy from earlier?”
The kiss was soft and chaste, not what you expected after how heated things had gotten in the hallway. Sanemi’s hands reached for the edge of the t-shirt you wore- Genya’s t-shirt- and lifted it until it caught on your face, tugging a bit when your head was stuck until it popped off, leaving your hair mussed. He brushed the stray strands from your face, eyes dropping to your bare breasts.
Shit.
In the chaos of excitement, you’d forgotten about the marks left from your earlier date. Your hands immediately went to cover them in horror. Sanemi stopped you, grabbing your wrists and holding them from blocking his view. His lips pressed to each mark, scraping his teeth and sucking them until they grew darker. Each bruise was remarked afresh by his mouth until not one was left untouched.
Your head had fallen back, a trembling hum dragged from your lips at the feeling of Sanemi’s touch. He sucked a few new marks as well, higher up on your neck, making sure to lavish the juncture of your shoulder and throat with attention. Your hands dug into his hair, tugging and holding back a keen of pleasure.
“There,” he pulled back, satisfied with his work.
Your breath hitched, watching him slide his fingers under the satin basketball shorts clinging to your hips. Being fully exposed to Sanemi was frightening, your entire body going rigid, remembering the offhand snide comments you’d endured only hours ago in the same situation. Sanemi noted the way you wouldn’t meet his eye, ducking your head and pulling your legs towards yourself as if you were going to curl in on yourself.
“I can’t see your pretty face,” he lifted your chin with a finger, thumbing your lip. “I want you to look at me while I go down on you.”
Your face blazed red, and it crept down your neck until your chest flushed as well, watching Sanemi drop his face between your legs, forcing them apart while maintaining eye contact. You slowly eased yourself down until you were only propped up on your elbows.
“Ready, pretty girl?”
It was humiliating how your cunt fluttered at the words, and you nodded, transfixed by his cocky smile as he stuck his tongue out, just barely flicking the little nub that hid under its fleshy hood. The anticipation made you squirm a bit, even though the touch wasn’t enough to affect you. Sanemi hooked his arms around your thighs, anchoring you in place before burying his face against your hot core. Your back arched, a muffled moan fluttering past your lips as your nails scratched his scalp.
You could feel him grin against your cunt as his tongue dipped in and out, tracing the sides and up towards your clit. He avoided directly touching it until you were practically grinding against his face in desperation, desperate short whimpers huffed through your nose. Your lower lip was tucked under your top teeth, bitten and swollen due to your barely restrained desire.
“Please, Sanemi,” you finally gasped.
He pulled back, chin slicked with your juices.
“Please what?”
“You know what!” you whined.
Leave it to Sanemi to be an asshole while eating you out. You couldn’t really complain though- he was impressively good.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Please,” you dropped your head to the sheets so you wouldn’t have to look at him as you spoke. “Let me cum.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
You shot up, glaring at Sanemi with a fury you didn’t know was in you. That pleased smirk was plastered on his gorgeously annoying face. You moved your legs so they locked behind his head, holding him in place.
“Don’t be a fucking tease!” you shook him a little by his cornsilk hair, just firm enough to show you weren’t a fan of his antics.  
Sanemi huffed a laugh against your inner thigh. His mouth was already back on you, finally going high enough to reach that sensitive button that he’d been neglecting. You sighed in relief, thighs clenching around his face. It didn’t take long after that for that coil in your stomach to build, snapping and throwing you over the edge when Sanemi’s flat tongue caressed your clit.
He kept going despite your choked cry and the way you arched up off the bed, limbs shaking and legs shaking. When you finally couldn’t take it anymore your hands pushed against his head, forcing him away. He sat up, looking over your trembling body and heaving chest. Your eyes were closed, a ringing sound in your ears from the intensity of the orgasm that was currently acting like a muscle relaxer.
A muffled groan pulled you from your pleasure-induced haze, and your eyes slit open. Sanemi’s pants were gone, pupils blown out. You didn’t realize how hard he was already, the outline of his dick inside the confines of his gray boxers surprising you as he palmed himself through the fabric. His own breathing was labored, and he swallowed, noticing your eyes opening.
“You good, princess?”
You nodded, feeling a bit sleepy, but pushed yourself up until you were sitting.
“Up for another round?”
You reached out, a bit hesitant, but tugged on the waistband of his underwear. That was all the answer he needed, and Sanemi stripped out of them, fishing around in the drawer of his nearby nightstand until he was able to produce a condom. It was opened and rolled on in a flash. He nudged your legs apart, settling between them and lining himself up at your entrance. You were incredibly slick from your earlier orgasm, and he pushed in with little resistance. The intrusion was still unexpected, and your fingernails bit into his forearm. Sanemi let out a shaky breath as he bottomed out, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Good job, sweetheart,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to move.”
Instead of answering him verbally, you pushed up against him, grinding your cunt down onto his dick. The choked cry from his lips was like honey to your ears, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Fuck me, Sanemi,” you breathed into his ear.
You barely finished the sentence before his hips began pounding into you, a cacophony of grunts and groans escaping his throat. He grabbed your legs and folded them back, angling deeper into your sopping cunt and hitting something inside you that made your toes curl. Each thrust punched the air from your lungs, leaving you too breathless to even moan out your satisfaction. Sanemi’s grip on your legs was leaving bruises but you didn’t care. You were enveloped in the feeling of his cock drilling into you relentlessly, his eyes half closed as the veins in his neck and arms stood out from the force he applied with each movement.
“S-Sanemi!”
The strangled cry you managed to get out among the intense movement filled the hot air of the room. Sanemi’s grip tightened on your legs and his hips stuttered against yours. His mouth had fallen open, eyes lidded with pleasure. His groans rose in pitch until they were more whines than anything, and the staccato beat of skin on skin lost all rhythm.
Sanemi came with a long moan, his mouth dropping to your neck, suckling as he ground up against you, hands loosing their hold on your legs to scramble for your hips. The tension in your stomach snapped with the last few jerks of his hips, a pleasant buzz settling in your limbs and chest a second time as your walls fluttered around his pulsing member. Your arms draped across his shoulders in an embrace as he came down from his high.
It was too warm in the room, but neither of you made a move. You hummed into his soft hair in hazy satisfaction.
“That was nice,” your hoarse voice drew Sanemi’s eyes to your half-asleep face.
He chuckled.
“Just nice?”
You tousled his hair, feigning a pout.
“What, you need your ego stroked?”
Sanemi snaked his hand down your body, flicking your still-sensitive nub with a finger. Your body jerked involuntarily, a cry escaping from your lips. You whined at him, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment.
“I made you come twice,” Sanemi said. “How many times did that piece of shit you call a date make you come?”
You mumbled your answer, and Sanemi narrowed his eyes, gently abusing your clit again. You squirmed in an attempt to get away, but he was still buried to the hilt inside of you.
“He didn’t-” you said, fingers digging into the sheets on either side of you.
“That’s what I thought,” Sanemi ground against you, and you wriggled against the intense feeling of overstimulation. “Pretty girls like you deserve to be treated well, don’t you think?”
If you hadn’t been blushing before, you definitely were now. All you could manage was a nod as Sanemi slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling empty and cold as he tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash.
“What do pretty girls like you deserve?” Sanemi lifted your chin with his fingers.
“To be… treated well?”
Sanemi had a satisfied grin plastered on his face, and he kissed you deeply before pulling back and nodding.
“So how about you find yourself someone who’ll treat you like a princess?”
His words set your heart fluttering again, and you wet your lips, staring at him expectantly.
“Okay. Have any suggestions?”
His laughter huffed through his nose at your innocent and eager expression. Sanemi kissed the tip of your nose, cradling your jaw in his hand.
“You’re looking at him.”
63 notes · View notes
emilykaldwen · 3 days
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The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Seventeen
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Rating: Explicit
Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen
Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.
Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm
No tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3
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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen
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Author's Note: We've got Rhaenyra POV! We've got Aemond POV! We've got a surprise in the end! Thank you for all the support and patience. You're all getting this chapter early since I'm out of town for the weekend! Enjoy!
PLEASE PLEASE subscribe to the series page or my author page so you get updates when we start the next story! You're not going to want to miss it. (And follow @emkald-fic on tumblr if you read here!)
All my love to @vampire-exgirlfriend for her love and support and holding my hand through this chapter that just kept kicking my fucking ass. If you need more Aemond content, you must read, They Say I killed You (Haunt Me Then)! Now complete! (epilogue going up soon!)
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Parrying the Daggers Thrown At Us
Rhaenyra receives a letter. Aemond cannot find peace until he gets a taste of it.
Grandfather is still ill, much like we saw him last but he prefers his wheel chaired more oft than not…
Things have been tense, understandably so, but Queen Alicent has been cordial and has made sure we are comfortable and have what we need… 
Aegon and Aemond keep their distance, perhaps so they can glare all the better…
I do not know how to make amends for what happened… 
…and they say Aemond is taken by his pains at times, darkening his room as his head aches from his wound… 
I should make amends, it is right… 
What do you think I should do?...
Heleana has been the warmest… 
…we danced together at the feast and she was quite happy to do so. It is nice spending time with her…
Aegon is happy around Lady Abrogail and she laughs freely with him. He is not like how he used to be as much with her… 
I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased to see how well she is treated…
Many houses were represented at Aegon’s nameday… 
Most seemed to wonder if Aegon would have been named heir and displace you but none came to pass… 
…they will inherit Harrenhal. I can see the wisdom in it as Luke will have Driftmark one day, but I think of Joffrey and Aegitsos and my uncles who do not have lands and holds to occupy them…
I love you much, Muñus, I hope you are well and that I will see you soon…
Rhaenyra ran her fingers over her son’s careful script, her mouth twitching in fondness amidst her worry of her zēapos. His letter was long, too much for a raven’s wings and she started from the beginning once she had read it through once. Twice. Her ribs ached as if Jace had been carved out of her to go on this journey and she shook her head, trying to let the feeling flit away on the breeze. Her eldest had a temper, much as she did in her youth, much as his father had, in the ways that drew her in. Time stole away much, and her own bouts of temper had cooled with each broken toy, each yelling fight, each ‘he pulled my hair!’ and ‘He pushed me and won’t share!’
The sounds of swords clanged in the yard and her gaze flitted from her son’s letter - pages crinkled in her grasp - to the courtyard below where Daemon was testing the new recruits to the Dragonstone guard. His silver hair was twisted back from his face in braids as he preferred, something about war and mindset and always be prepared.
He called something towards Joff and Aegitsos as the knight before him panted, having been bested against her husband.
Baela had not written, that much she knew, though Jace had said that she had found a friend in Helaena after a tense standoff. Rhaenyra had found the mention of it surprising, for her little sister, in the times she’d been around her, had been a quiet thing, eyes large in her face, gaze flitting to everyone and no one.
Helaena has been the warmest…
Helaena was not yet married. The match with Aegon had never come to pass.
The invitation lay on the table before her next to the plate of lemon cake she liked for her morning meal on days such as this.
The wedding of Prince Aegon of House Targaryen and Lady Abrogail Strong of Harrenhal…
In five moons, the spectacle would be held in the Riverlands. In five moons, the realm would look upon her brother once more, peacocked and pulled out, as Daemon sneered, by Otto Hightower to show him off as a contender, to put pressure on her father to change his mind. Her father had nearly twenty years to change his mind and still, he had not. Not even in her absence, cowardly as it sometimes felt to retreat and lick her wounds, had her father’s support of the claim and her family seemed to waver. Try as the Hightowers might to scream and spread slanders that would call for bloodshed, her father still would not be swayed. It was the sense of satisfaction that she had felt when he came to her defense in that shadowed hall those years ago, the heated of curl in it that no matter what, there could be no question as to his choice.
He had chosen her.
Even as the feeling waned over time to give over to those moments where she doubted, all the times he had failed to reign his wife in with her abuses and vitriol, the words her son had sent her bolstered her.
I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased…
Harwin’s little sister, big blue eyes and red curls bound in braids, peeking curiously over the edge of Lucerys’ cradle next to Jace because ‘She asked if she could see the baby and give him this,’ Harwin had said, as the little girl presented her attempts at embroidering a little dragon on a pillow. Little Abrogail, half Harwin’s, half Alicent’s. She had tried to bring the girl to Dragonstone with them. Would she not be happier away from the court politics with her brother and the quiet? Lord Lyonel had given her a surprised, then hard look, and Rhaenyra had felt chastened in a way her own father had never been able to evoke within her.
“I will keep my daughter with me, and should I send her away, it will be back to her home, at Harrenhal, with her brother.”
Grief washed through her like the crashing of the waves on the rocky shore below and she felt her own jagged edges inside of her. Lyonel Strong had been the best of them, putting the realm first, always by her side at every council meeting she attended, encouraging her, even as his face grew graver with each brunette curled boy she bore.
Violet eyes swept across the parchment again. A servant in the camp had tried to attack the girl, Jace said. Crept into her tent, assuming she would have been alone. Inquiries were being made, but as far as anyone could see, the man had just been a baseborn servant - blending in like no other. Rhaenyra pursed her lips and looked down at the training yard once more, fingers drumming along the stone ledge of the terrace.
She wondered how wrapped around Lady Abrogail’s finger her half-brother might be… and how opportune this moment was.
Alicent’s eldest was marrying and taking a seat in the Riverlands. It was not the bold choice that Rhaenyra had thought would happen. Surely one of the many Lannister girls, or one of the Baratheons - a great house who would be invested in their own daughter becoming queen would have made more sense.
Harrenhal, for the wealth and lands that it had, did not command armies the way the Stormlands did. It did not have endless coffers the way Casterly Rock boasted of. It was a moody fortress on the edge of the God’s Eye, surrounded by lush farmland and woods that were dark and deep and felt that you were somewhere fanciful, somewhere that didn’t hold dragons nor thrones, nothing except for a warm hand wrapped around her own.
The clashing and screaming of steel in the yard below pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts, and away from the path of her sorrows and regrets. Turning her back to the sight below, she reached for her own parchment and quill, pushing aside the letter from Lord Celtigar.
Lady Abrogail… Good tidings on news of your approaching nuptials…
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Aemond pursed his lips, his gaze rising from the book before him, a study on the Conqueror’s approach to the first Dornish war,to squint across the barrel room near the top of the tower that held the library in the Holdfast. He drummed his fingers upon the scarred wooden table, a fingertip running along the crescent burn from the time Abby had accidentally knocked over a candle while they were reading about Harren the Black.
He exhaled slowly, the way the Braavosi manuals advised and looked back at his book.
It had been weeks since his brother’s festivities, and the chill of the end of the growing season had crept in. It was not cold by northern standards, but the air cooled, the rains rolled in for the next several months, and angry storms fell over them  from the Narrow Sea, their winds piercing and frightening, as if they were dragons themselves in the winds that the Storm God rode, threatening to tear apart the Red Keep brick by brick.
Helaena’s nameday had passed with quiet fanfare, the lingering lords of the realm who had not left parading their sons in front of his maiden sister. As if any of them were worthy of a dragonrider, someone as clever and kind as Helaena.
It had been complicated over the past weeks since the talk in the garden, and Aemond still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt. What had been most surprising had been the strange sense of release when his sister let him go, leaving him to sit in the rain before Visenya’s statue, her words ringing in his ears. 
‘I would burn Dorne for you… but I do not want to leave behind a world of ash and bone.’
How desperate Helaena had looked, angry and frightened and full of hope as she begged not to have a husband, but a brother back. ‘How else am I supposed to protect her?' he had wondered. How else could he offer his sister protection and security if it wasn’t to marry her, to tie her to him so that she would never have to fear, never have to doubt her acceptance and those who loved her?
Aegon had not wanted to marry her. She was weird, he’d sneered. How miserable Helaena would be, how miserable they both would have been. Aemond had done the right thing. He’d stepped up, he had gotten Mother and The Tower to break the betrothal. Even if they had not promised him and Helaena to one another, that was alright, it would simply be a matter of time.
He had Vhagar. There could be no further doubt that he was truly a Valyrian. There could be no more doubt as to his place in the world. All that was left was his sister.
Guilt gnawed deep in his stomach, shame twisting around his throat when the thought filtered through. Helaena was not a bauble he needed to collect to prove something. Collecting her was not protecting her. Collecting her was not about her, but for him, and it was this knowledge that he had thought about constantly.
His sister deserved more than being a broodmare, to be a pawn in the games. The forced distance the last few weeks had given him, after Helaena pushed him from the proverbial nest, had left him unsettled and snappish.
The loud thud of a book hitting the stone floor reverberated through the room. A heavy tome, judging from the heft of the sound, followed by a soft giggling, a deeper snickering sound chasing after it before they muffled and fell quiet.
He knew, with the utmost certainty, why it had fallen quiet.
Ever since the betrothal, the grip on his best friend had been slipping. Oh, him and Abrogail were an unlikely pair, but few appreciated books and history as his cousin did. While digging in the dirt and helping Helaena catalog her collection had been fulfilling, there was something joyous in being able to have someone who understood the quiet and sanctity of the library, and who loved books and reading and learning as he did. Lyonel Strong had always indulged his questions when was young - far more enthralling than Mellos and Orwyle were, and he had fostered that curiosity in his daughter.
‘All she’s going to care about is making babies with Aegon!’ Helaena had cried, frustrated and angry when they’d been alone after the fight in the brothel. 
There was a soft cry, and Aemond scowled at his book before his chair scraped across the stone floor and he strode purposefully towards the source of the sound. The histories of the Riverlands were there - not just observational books, but the census, the trade information, things used by the small council’s not-quite-so-small army of clerks and counters and lawmakers. The section of the library that Abby had frequented since the announcement and that he had helped her with.
“Not here,” came the whispered whine, laced with laughter. Aemond rolled his eye as he turned the corner of the aisle. It was shadowed somewhat this far down, The strategically polished silver angled to bounce the light around so as not to pose a fire risk among the precious books, although the day was gray and cloudy and the light reflected was that of a lamp. Abby was pressed against the bookshelves, the blue and silver brocade of her skirts rucked up with her stockings on display, her legs at present, wrapped around his stupid brother’s waist. One arm was stretched out to grab onto the bookshelf behind her, and the fallen book that had been in its place was still on the ground. Aegon’s face was buried into her chest, or maybe her throat? 
He was half-blind, after all, sometimes details could be mercifully missed. Or ignored.
“This,” Aemond said, his voice even and dripping with every ounce of annoyance and betrayal he felt, “is the library, not a brothel.”
Aemond’s fists clenched at the disrespect both of them displayed to a place they knew  was important to him. At the announcement of his presence, Abby squeaked, Aegon’s arms tightening around her as she scrambled to lower herself without sending them both toppling. He held his arms folded behind his back, his hand scraping along his elbow as the pair of them got themselves in order and he shook his head when Aegon looked at him, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Abby had turned to straighten her gown.
“Are you really going to act like this?” Aegon said, for it was barely a question. “We weren’t in front of you and your book. You were the one seeking us out.”
“Because you both weren’t as quiet as you thought you were,” Aemond snapped. “It was distracting.”
A lazy smirk crossed across his brother’s flushed face and he wanted to punch him square in his stupid nose. Let him kiss his future wife with his face bashed in. “Well, my lady is distracting-.” There was a soft sound as Abby smacked Aegon’s shoulder, cutting him off with an exaggerated ow, the flinch was nowhere near the violent response that inhabited his brother when it was their mother doing the hitting. She peered around Aegon’s shoulder, her mouth just as swollen, her cheeks just as flushed and her features apologetic.
“We’re sorry, Aemond. Things just got out of hand. I shouldn’t have-”
“Don’t you apologize,” Aegon interrupted her this time, a fierce look on his face. 
“No, actually,” Aemond cut in, taking a step forward, using the few inches he now had on his brother to straighten his shoulders. “She’s right. Thank you, Abby, for apologizing. Are you upset that she has to apologize for you, since your self-awareness is worse than a billy goat ramming his head into things?”
Aegon’s mouth gaped in offense, his flush deepening. There was a bruise along his neck that was going to be difficult to hide. The glib nature of his eldest brother was a trial at the best of times, but this? “You know this isn’t your place to run about as you please. Shall I just unlock my doors, let you roll around in my sheets and over my personal things while you’re at it?”
“It’s the fucking library, Aemond. It doesn’t belong to you-”
Abby let out a startled cry as Aemond’s fist shot out, but as much as he would love to punch his brother, he shoved him instead, feeling the crackling of frustration, the rumble of Vhagar in his chest.  “Because it’s all yours, is that it? You mewling fucking kitten. This isn’t just my library, it’s hers too, but you don’t fucking care about anything that means something to anyone else if it gets in the way of what your limp cock wants.”
“Aemond, truly, we’re sorry - Aegon, no!” Abby’s voice was lost in Aegon’s growl as his brother came back with another shove, sending him back a few steps. Aemond laughed, a hint of a sound like the thin scrape of wind whistling through a crack. Yes, yes let the idiot push him around. Let him continue to pull his friend away from him, from him and Helaena both. His gaze darted briefly to the redhead, blue eyes wide as she pressed herself back against the shelves, before meeting his brother’s lighter gaze.
“You are a glib fucking fool, Aegon,” Aemond said lowly, his mouth curling as he readied for a fight, needing to expend the burn of flame inside of him. “I don’t care what the pair of you do, I’ll say nothing should Mother hear of it, but-” he stepped forward and shoved Aegon hard into the bookstack. The ancient wood creaked and groaned, but the stacks were bolted to the floor to prevent them from topping. A few books fell from the force of Aegon’s frame smacking into it. “Stay the hell out of my library.”
He did not look over his shoulder, even as Abby called his name, apology rife in her tone. He strode through the halls, calling for his horse to be saddled while he went to angrily pull on his riding leathers. The left side of his temple ached as it was wont to do when his face was full of tension. Helaena would make him tea, protect him in the quiet, but that was not meant to be today. The last he saw, his sister was in the gardens with Jacaerys. 
How he ached to wring the stupid bastard’s neck.
How bright he seemed to make Helaena laugh.
How betrayed Aemond felt by it all.
Why hadn’t Helaena said anything? Why hadn’t she told him that she didn’t want to be married? Why had she just let him wander around like a puppy and now left the fool?
‘But hadn’t she told you?’ a little voice drifted through Aemond’s mind and he paused in the lacing of his leathers. Had she not told him by pursuing that fool Warren Fossoway, and the time that he had spied her kissing him - for he had seen Helaena push the squire behind the carved dragon pillar by the gardens. 
‘But she would let me kiss her, she would kiss me, and she’d touch me and I her and-’ The flurry of thoughts ached as he pulled on his boots.
It would not hurt as much if it was anyone but Jacaerys.
The ride to the beach beneath the shadow of the Red Keep was a blur. The rock outcropping of Aegon’s High Hill was a craggy, sheer thing, but the beach below was one that Vhagar enjoyed sunning herself, a guard dog laying at the foot of the bed in a way. Her head lifted as Aemond approached, lowing in greeting and shaking sand from her scales. The tension in Aemond’s chest began to ease at the sight of her, and he approached, patting a gloved hand along her scarred neck, scratching along a vicious scar she must have received in Dorne. There were no words exchanged, not the way Aegon chattered with Sunfyre. Aemond’s bond with Vhagar was one of feeling, of such deep understanding that no words needed to spill from him. In no time, he scaled her great bulk and yelled out the command to fly, which his dragon responded with her own, what he assumed was excited, call in return.
Vhagar landed on the cliffs on the western side of Massey’s Hook, the bay below dotted with smaller fishing boats this far out from King’s Landing and away from the bustle of the capital. Rage and grief, anger and fear were a tempest in his gut and he rankled at the call of Moondancer as his cousin circled above them.
If Baela wanted this fight, then he would meet her, unflinching. Let her see what dragons were made of. They did not all reside on Dragonstone.
“Laodijes peldios!” Baela howled at him, her voice a sharp shout on the breeze, her face twisted and ugly with fury, fists at her side as she readied herself to hit him should he get within reach.
Aemond glared at her, the distance between them shrunk now to an arm length. Vhagar was a great shadow behind him and he could feel the sulfuric heat of her breath as she exhaled buffeting at his back. Moondancer was a little ways away, shrieking fearfully and Aemond could not tell if the dragon reflected her rider’s mood, or her fear of Vhagar.
“You’re a fucking fool. Daemon Targaryen is your father, your mother a Velaryon, and you still don’t realize that a dragon cannot be stolen.”
“You had no fucking right!” Baela snarled. “Vhagar was for Rhaena to claim-”
“If Vhagar had not wanted me, she would have eaten me and you damn well know it.” Aemond cut her off, watching her jaw click shut with a curl of satisfaction. “Vhagar chose me, not your sister. What? You want to kill me to give her another chance at claiming her? Is that what you’re here? To finish the job that you all started?”
“Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?” Balea cried, and this time, there was a choked quality to her rage. Aemond’s eye widened slightly and he leaned back from her, a curl of uncertainty that he despised. His words had been harsh, full of the anger that he had felt simmering these past years. Aemond shrugged it off. He had earned his harshness in this. He’d been the one attacked, the band of them setting upon him simply because he chose to claim his right as a Valyrian prince.
‘Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?’
Aemond ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned back on his foot, watching Baela gasp for air amidst her choking sobs, and turn from him to look out to the bay, towards Driftmark and High Tide.
He remembered his mother’s cries, her rage, her such careful and elegant control snapping as her voice cracked in the silence of the Hall of Nine.
“He’s your son, Viserys.”
“Why did Moondancer choose you?” Aemond asked. “Why did Moondancer choose you, and my egg never hatched?” Baela did not look at him but he could see the way her shoulders tensed. “Why didn’t you go find the guards? Why did you come, thinking a thief had stolen a dragon and Jacaerys brought his blade? Why did they give me a pig, pretending they had found me a dragon as they both had their own? Why did they do nothing but terrorize me with that fact for our childhoods?” 
Aegon had done it too, gone in on the fun, drunk on being the eldest. It had lessened considerably in the wake of Rhaenyra leaving the capital, even if his brother sought other ways to tease him - he’d never again mentioned his lack of dragon.
Aegon had come to him in his sick bed, his curls shorn, red eyed and puffy faced, tears on his cheeks, had knelt at his bedside and vowed to him. 
“We protect our own and I did not protect you. I do not care if you’ve claimed Vhagar, for I was not there for you when you needed me. It will never happen again. I will protect you. I will be by your side.”
Aemond had sometimes wondered how much of the words were his brother’s own, but he had known, with certainty, that the feelings were genuine. His brother was an idiot, and they butted heads, but his brother loved him in his own way, and for as angry as Aegon could make him, he loved him too. In his own way. 
He might admit that on his deathbed, unlike Aegon, who would only need to be in the depths of his cups and into the sad and tearful mourning edge.
“What do you know, Baela?” Aemond said, his voice even, coldness creeping along the edges. “Of fighting and scraping for everything that is owed to you?” He forcefully bit his tongue, copper exploding in his mouth as he broke skin, to keep from pressing further at the loss of her birth right to Driftmark for Rhaenyra’s folly.
“A prince has to scrape for all that is owed to him.” It was rhetorical, biting, and Aemond snorted, taking a step forward, his own gaze looking out at the water.
“You may have been an idiot child, but don’t play me for a fool.” It was impossible not to see how little Viserys thought of his second family, and he had seen it plainly on Jacaerys’ face, the surprise in witnessing it. “I’m sure your father relishes every word you send to him. His little spy.”
Baela’s lip curled in a snarl and she stalked closer. Aemond stayed where he was, watching her with a narrowed eye as Vhagar let out a low growl behind him. She did not move, did not lift her head, but her nostrils flared and Aemond felt the heat of her breath swirl around him. Baela’s eyes widened, and she paused, the indigo of them shining with tears. 
He turned his head slightly to look at Vhagar. “Ȳgha iksi,” he reassured her, feeling Vhagar’s displeasure seeping through him, her warning and the remembered rage from those years ago when she could not protect him or take away his pain. He reached for her snout, pressing his hand to the scar above her left nostril, rubbing against it. He turned his back to his cousin and brought his other hand up, feeling the anger hot as coals, hot as dragonfire in his chest. Vhagar was full of tension. He could feel it. Would she feel that way if it wasn’t him? If she was not so worried for him, would she recognize the girl behind him as the child that Laena Velaryon surely brought to her, as Aemond would have brought his own child? Had his grandfather, Baelon, brought his sons to this dragon before them?
The silence filled the air around them, the wind thick with tension. Aemond pressed his forehead to Vhagar, took strength from her, squeezed his eye shut and ignored the pain that lanced through his head and pulsed behind his scar.
The sob behind him was soft, and Moondancer’s cry was mournful.
“He’s your son, Viserys.”
“I did not mean to tarnish your mother’s memory,” Aemond finally spoke, his voice carrying as he looked, blind side towards Baela. “It was not done to hurt you, or to take something from you. It was… It was my only chance. And it’s something I don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand. I am… I am sorry about the loss of your mother. I did not have the opportunity to give you my condolences then, but I can give them to you now.”
The sound Baela made was strangled. Aemond turned to look at her. Baela was stiff beneath her red and black riding leathers, the metal rings in her hair tinkling as the wind tugged at her braids. He recalled the mourning child she had been sitting by her twin and Jace, the vicious yell she’d let out when she punched him in the nose that night, the howls and scream of pain. He felt Vhagar twitch and groan beneath his touch, another warning and he hushed her again, stroking her snout. He watched her gaze go towards Moondancer, who was crying fitfully, grounded still, her aquamarine wings more green against the lush grass of the clifftop.
“Do you want to pet her?”
Baela stared at him, the hostile lines to her face instantly slacking in surprise. “Skoro syt?” Her voice was small and wary, even as her eyes were wide with grief.
“My condolences,” Aemond repeated, and he found the words genuine. It was not Baela, nor her sister, or even his bastard nephews that rankled him. Oh, he wanted his revenge, He wanted what was due, but more of the blame lay with his eldest sister and their father. Of that, Aemond was secure in. He would gladly feed them both to Vhagar, to take an eye as payment for his mother.
His cousin shifted on her booted feet before whatever compelled her brought her forward. Aemond shifted, beckoning her to take her place by his side as he murmured words to Vhagar. Baela had taken her glove off, her slim, tanned hand reaching tentatively up before resting along the scar on Vhagar’s nostril.
They stood there for how long, Aemond was not sure, quietly beside one another as Baela grieved for the mother at the bottom of the Narrow Sea, and his own grief at what was taken from him.
“Do not mourn me, mother…”
‘But mourn the boy dead on Driftmark.’
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It was not lightness or peace that settled over Aemond when he and his cousin parted later. He was not certain how much time had passed, only that after she had sobbed, they sat there in a strange, companionable silence eating hunks of bread and cheese and apple that Baela cut with a wicked blade. She did not give him thanks, she did not say anything, but Aemond took the offering of shared food as her own gesture of whatever truce was settled between them. The exchanged curt nods before parting, Baela northeast and away from the city to what Aemond assumed was High Tide and her grandmother and twin, while he circled back towards the city.
Aemond was not certain of the feeling he held except that it felt like he had scratched something out on a list, or deposited a burden that he was trying to carry with all his other, more cumbersome burdens. It was a closed door. That was enough for Aemond, and there was a part of him that wanted to march to his sisters and tell them that he had made nice, to have Abby’s warm smile proud with him, and Helaena’s little clap and promptly being the receiver of her latest mountain spider that Uncle Rodrik had brought her.
Instead, after entering the inner courtyard of the Red Keep and handing off his horse to one of the stablehands, he made his way to the gardens and to his own preferred solitude when the library - so recently desecrated - was not an option. No, Aemond needed air, he needed the statue of Visenya to look down upon him. There, where Helaena had snipped the strings and released him from the vow he had made, the goal that held him that was more about him than it truly was about her. 
Where his sister had set him free, and he loved her all the more for it.
The problem, he found, upon striding down the paved path and through the dripping ivy, was that his garden was not, in fact, as empty as he hoped. Wylla Karstark was kneeled in front of a bush of hyacinths, carefully cutting the purple blooms and placing them in a basket beside her. She was clad in a dove gray dress, the black fabric of her kirtle beneath poking out through slashes along her shoulders and puffed at her elbows. Her fox features were pinched in concentration and Aemond watched her for a moment, silent as she had clearly not heard his approach.
Wylla Karstark was an unknown. She was pretty enough, with a long nose and sharp jaw, gray eyes that flashed when she was annoyed, which was the majority of the time. She had a rather frustrating talent of being able to look down at him even as she had to arch her neck, for she was as petite as Abby was. Their joint misfortune, just like Aegon’s. She was also well read, their conversation at the feast turning from a mutual annoyance to discussing the book of poetry that he had seen her reading, which itself had turned into a rather long and in depth conversation on the Valyrian poet, Praxilla, whose work had survived by the grace of her living the life of leisure in Lys when the Doom happened. Wylla and his elder brother unknowingly shared a fondness for drinking songs penned by the scribe, although Aemond was smart enough to know he shouldn’t bring that up.
Not until he needed to.
“It is polite to speak when coming upon someone, Your Grace,” Wylla’s northern burr was arch as she focused on her task. “I would curtsy, but you can see I’m already on my knees.”
Aemond’s cheeks flushed at the turn of her words, and he was not certain if she understood how they could be taken. He decided that she didn’t, for she did not turn to look at him, seemingly unbothered. All for the best, he supposed, for Aemond did not think he could meet her gaze should she be facing him.
“Why are you cutting my flowers?”
“Your flowers, Your Grace?” Wylla laughed, a sharp, lilting sort of sound and he wondered if that’s what she sounded like when she sang. Did she sing? He had not asked her. “These flowers belong to Queen Visenya, for it is her garden, is it not?”
“It is my garden,” he pushed back, frowning at the back of her head, the mass of thick, twisted black braids kept in place with a woven, pearl hair net with wicked looking, pearl tipped hair pins to keep the heaviness of it in place. He flexed his hands, wiping them on his riding leathers as he approached. There were other flowers in her basket, like wisteria and some of the roses from the main garden. He sat, bending his one leg to rest an arm on while the other reached in.
Up close, he could see the red flush to her pale cheeks. He did not recall them looking so red when he saw her the day before, outside of the bit of sun all the girls had gotten during the sun.
Her smack was quick, the sound of flesh stinging flesh loud and he immediately pulled back with a hiss and a glare. “How dare-”
“Those aren’t for you,” Wylla said forcefully, the gray eyes of her bright in her face as she finally looked at him. “They’re for Lady Abrogail.”
Aemond had killed a man for the fox-faced woman before him without hesitation, and the knowledge of it settled in him still, generally buried over the past few weeks because he had no idea what to do about it. They’d been attacked in the night, and Wylla Karstark had shoved a knife between the man’s ribs without hesitation. So tall, Wylla Karstark seemed, so loud, filling up the spaces she was in without holding herself back, that he had so often forgotten how small she was.
Until she was there, in front of him, those gray eyes like the storm ridden ocean.
Aemond held her gaze, reaching back into the basket to pluck one of the deep purple, nearly blue anemones that she had gathered, twirling it idly between his long fingers before reaching up to tuck it behind her ear. Wylla was still beside him, her red painted mouth parted slightly, so he could see the flash of her white teeth behind it. Her cheeks deepend in their red to match the paint on her lips and Aemon hummed. 
Abby had been understandably shaken. Knowing her as long as he did, even with the smiles affixed to her face, he knew the signs as intimately as he understood Helaena’s or Aegon’s, or his own mother’s. Wylla Karstark was a mystery. She had been quiet, from what he had seen, but the wedding preparations had taken up much time with the girls, as well as her brother finally leaving the capital earlier that week.
He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking, before he met her gaze. “Are you alright?”
Her inhale was loud. It trembled and she pressed her red lips together, her throat bobbing with a swallow and looked back at the flowers but did not move to cut anymore. Aemond did not push her, but only waited.
“Yes? No? Strangely yes,” she finally whispered. “I think that’s what bothers me more.”
“That bastard came in with intent to harm,” Aemond said. “If you didn’t kill him, someone else would have. You were incredibly brave.” None knew  where he’d come from. The assailant had been clad in the same red garb as the rest of the servants. A baseborn man. Waters or Storm, Aemond couldn’t remember, much like he had no memory of the man’s face before he stared down at it, red and wheezing before he killed him.
“At least it wasn’t Aegon,” Wylla whispered, her eyes wide, drawing his attention back to her. “What would have that turned into - him sneaking in for them to slobber all over each other. Me thinking he was an attacker and-”
The snort of laughter that escaped Aemond at the idea of it all could not be held back. He bent his head, gasping for air as his shoulders shook and it was only a moment before Wylla’s own peel of laughter joined his. It had been some weeks since he’d laughed, in the wake of what happened at the hunt drying up what little humor he’d indulged in. There was an infectious quality to Wylla Karstark’s amusement that he found comforting. Aemond looked at her, her face flushed from her laughter, and he leaned in, kissing her.
The laughter abruptly stopped, her mouth soft against his, still from her clear surprise. She tasted like oranges. Abby must have indulged in the sweet and sour orange cakes they had at the feast. Wylla did not respond, but she didn’t move away either and Aemond took that as acceptance, and he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, thumb swiping softly against the apple of it. Kisses with Helaena had been different - always expected, always ready, with her initiating many of them. The one time he’d kissed Abby, when they were little and Jace had dared him to, did not count. The both of them had made faces, vowing to never do it again. 
Kissing Wylla, though? He never wanted to stop, especially not when she reached up, the clippers making a soft thump along the grass to wrap around the end of the braid slung over his shoulder. She tugged it gently and Aemond broke away, blinking and gasping. “What?” he asked. “Should I have not done that?”
“Oh, you should have,” she reassured him, breathless and red faced. She licked her lips and looked at her fingers still wound around his braid, toying with the leather tie. “I was just reminded of something someone told me once.”
He cocked his head, mouth pursed. “What was it?”
The smile that cut across Wylla’s face was amused, the scar along the top of her lip giving a mischievous bend to her small, red mouth. “It was about how dragons purr when you pull their hair.”
Whatever thought started to coalesce about her late night conversation with his sisters was pushed right out when her lips found his.
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I would love to hear your thoughts! Even if it's just a keyboard smash! Reblog to spread a story around so others may find it! I would love to hear your theories! What did you love? What are you looking forward to? Happy to have you here as always <3
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elvenbeard · 2 days
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OC INTERVIEW - VINCENT EZAKI
(I was tagged by @cybersteal and @arcandoria for this a long while ago, and got real carried away with this idea xD also inspired by everyone else who took the "interview" bit a bit more literally, so yes! :D thank y'all for the great ideas and being an inspiring af fandom!)
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Juanita Tseng: V, thank you so much for taking the time today, so happy to have you here! Let me ask, is that your full name?
V: Hah. Well, obviously not, but it’s served me well for many years now.
J: Any special story behind it?
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J: What’s not a secret is that most of our viewers only know you as “mystery man” so far, at least that’s how the scream sheets often choose to refer to you. How do you feel about that?
V: Well, nothing I could say against either. I like my privacy and I’m a man, so they got that right at least.
J: Hahaha, that’s fair! Even more so I’m glad we’re getting the opportunity to get to know you a bit better today. As I told you in advance, there’s some burning questions our viewers have, and everyone’s been eagerly submitting them already as we speak. So, without further ado, let’s get to the first one. When is your birthday?
V: It’s in June, but I’d like to leave it at that.
J: Interesting! Gemini or Cancer?
V: Whichever is the one that comes first.
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J: That’s fair! Alright, how tall are you?
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J: Who is taller?
V: Me of course.
J: Of course! Okay, next question… Ah! Let’s stay on the topic of Kerry for a moment longer. From my last interview with him we know you two met through a mutual friend.
V: That’s right.
J: How did it go? Was it love at first sight, or more of a slow burn?
V: Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him when we first met. But it wasn’t love at first sight, no, more… curiosity. We crossed paths a few more times, also thanks to that friend, and got to know each other better like that. We just clicked. That’s all there is to it really.
J: Awwww, that's so sweet! Now, it’s no secret that Kerry has led a quite adventurous life and there is a bit of an age gap separating you. So, I gotta ask:
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J: Only men?
V: Yup. And now the next question please, cause none of it matters.
J: Hahaha, sorry, I know I’m such a tease! But we gotta ask our viewer’s questions! Speaking of which, one of them is curious about your upbringing and cultural heritage!
V: Now that’s a 180° turn. Born and raised in and by Night City. Can’t say much about cultural heritage, as it’s a bit of a mix of many things.
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V: Mh-hm.
J: Let me see… would you be up for some quick shotgun-style questions?
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V: Ready when you are.
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J: Favourite season?
V: Anything that doesn’t involve sandstorms.
J: Favourite flower?
V: Lotus.
J: Favourite Scent?
V: Clean bedsheets.
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J: Average hours of sleep?
V: I aim to get at least 7.
J: Numer of Blankets you sleep with?
V: One or none.
J: Favourite Fictional Character?
V: Oh no, uuuhh… Hmm… No, I can’t just choose one.
J: Haha, that’s alright. Would you say you’re a bit of a nerd?
V: Oh yeah, unashamedly. Me getting started about my favorite fictional characters would be a whole interview on its own.
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J: Anyway, that’s right on cue, we’re almost out of time for today! I think we could fit one… no, two more questions!
V: Alright, let’s hear ‘em.
J: What would be your dream trip?
V: Hmmm… Kerry asked me to come along for his tour next year. I imagine that could be fun.
J: Oh, definitely! By the way, dear fans, don’t miss out on buying your tickets!
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V: Maybe.
J: It’s been really nice to have you here today, V!
V: Thanks again for the invite.
J: As you know, I like to end my show with a random fact, something fun I’ve heard about in the past week or something about myself! Would you like to share a random fact with the viewers today?
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V: I try.
J: Haha, well, I'm glad you found your way to my little studio, too! As I said, would love to have you over again anytime!
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########## a few minutes later ##########
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Thank you again for the tags! This was so much fun and really turned into its own thing beyond an OC ask meme XD I did this meme before with some slightly different and/or more in-depth answers for anyone curious [here] cause like stated back then, how Vince replies to personal questions always strongly depends on who's asking. And he might be more or less truthful about the information given or keep it all very surface-level instead, too.
For this lil story here the idea was obviously that the whole interview is basically just a promo thing for Kerry's upcoming tour xD So of course Vince is gonna support his bf if it helps boost ticket sales XDD A year earlier he might not have done it even then, because he was veeery reluctant about having their relationship be known beyond telling their closest friends. But here at this point some time in mid-to-late 2078, he'd feel secure enough with his life, their ilfe really, that he wouldn't mind being seen in the public together like this and also "outing" himself like that in front of a larger audience, for lack of a better word. It's the character growth and support of each other and a love language and everything \o/
Also: not sure who to tag at this point cause I think most of you already did this, but if you're reading this and havent answered all of Juanita's questions for your OC yet, consider yourself tagged!
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transmurderbug · 1 day
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🦚 Weekly Tag Wednesday! 🦚
On an actual Wednesday this time.
Thank you for tagging me Kat @mybrainismelted, Nosho @creepkinginc, Evie @energievie, Ice @spookygingerr, Jess @jrooc and
Pie @gallapiech 🥰
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name: Sky. Sometimes.
where in the world is carmen sandiego? (or you): Carmen is in Antarctica. She's apparently a penguin. And I'm under a pine tree.
ok, so this week we are going to snoop into your google search. type in each phrase and tell us what the first suggestion is that google gives you!
What is the best way to… avoid getting spyware on a machine? The "machine" part really drives this home.
Where can I… watch Hazbin Hotel? Are you asking me? Which version? Now I'll be humming all night, thanks.
How old is… Hungary? No need to google this one, it's pretty easy to remember, if you wanna look at the founding of the state. My memory is not what it used to be, but this one is burnt into my brain, I'm pretty sure. It's about to be 1024 years old. Why am I answering these questions though? 🤨 I do love history, to be fair.
How long does it take… to learn Hungarian? What does Google take me for? I want to see the algorithms behind these predictions. A long time, I'm pretty sure.
How many… days between dates? What dates?? Someone help me out, I'm getting confused.
Who set the record for… the fastest time to reach one billion views on YouTube? What is happening.
When did… the Queen die? Which one.
What does it feel like to… get shot. I've been told a scraped wound is worse, that's all I know. Again, why am I answering these?
Can you… run it? Run what...?
When you… say nothing at all. This is a Ronan Keating song. Who I only heard of when he was a guest artist at a symphonic concert I went to. Now you all know him too.
Why do… men have nipples? What kind of a question is this? Why does any mammal have nipples! Biology, dear Google.
Is there a way… to save Karlach.? Ehm. Spoiler alert?
How old do you have to be… to go to college? However old you are when you finish high school. Don't give up on your dreams!
Where do the… Simpsons live? Why would I want to know this?
What is the best time to… post on TikTok? Google wants both Nosho and me to become influencers, this is just another sign.
And to finish us off… What comes up when you type in Shameless? szereplők. I love the language switch. I do however know who the characters are, thank you.
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Well, this was a wild ride. Never in my life have I googled or even thought about googling these things. I either know the answer or I don't even think about the subject. Good job, Google predictions! Job failed successfully! This was pretty fun though. (Just to soften the blow, the Karlach question probably comes from previous BG3 searches. The rest? What even.)
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Tagging, because I'm on time! Yay! Voluntary, as always, if you want to skip, here, have these blueberries: 🫐
@ian-galagher, @transmickey @stocious @suzy-queued @blue-disco-lights @deathclassic @spacerockwriting, @ms-moonlight-inn, @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos, @krysmiss @look-i-love-u @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @heymrspatel @michellemisfit @sweetbee78 @grumble-fish @metalheadmickey @rayrayor @crossmydna @thisdivorce @callivich @gardenerian @lupeloto @francesrose3
@palepinkgoat @heymacy @lee-ow @roryonic @thepupperino
@doshiart and anyone else I'm probably forgetting!
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TWST Cast Food Order Series - Coffee Shop
Idk it seems like fun and I want to do their subway orders eventually so if you have a req drop it. Also, gonna update my tags Eventually, but this will be the first post that refers to Jack T., Che'nya, Najma, Neige, Falena, Rollo as 'twst side characters'
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Heartslaybul
Riddle Typically, Riddle has a lot of rigidity regarding food and drink, and what he will or won't allow himself to have. However, as he starts to work through it all he eventually gets to the point where he feels comfortable ordering a small London Fog (Earl Grey Latte basically, with vanilla syrup) and a cake pop if he's feeling indulgent, though usually he just asks Trey for them. Even farther into the future, he'll indulge in getting himself a small white hot chocolate with 2 pumps of strawberry syrup because then it's basically drinking chocolate-covered strawberries....it just takes him a while to get there. (He always spells his name out when the barista asks, he learned after getting Ridelle on his cup)
Trey Whenever he makes candied violets, he also has violet syrup. He tends to carry a small vial on him when he goes out because if he's going to pay for tea, he's going to make sure it turns out perfectly. He typically gets a medium iced lemon herbal tea and he adds his syrup to it for just the right touch of sweetness. (Always gives a name like. Batman or some shit, especially when his siblings are around)
Cater Coffee connoisseur. You might think he's a basic bitch, but to me a basic bitch still means he's getting some sort of sweetener in his drinks and he is Not. Cater cannot STAND drinking a lot of drinks that go viral because they're so damn sweet. That all being said. Yeah, he's getting a large iced latte with skim milk. He won't have normal milk because of the fat content, but the other milk alternatives tend to have a sweetness to them naturally. He could get an iced black coffee or cappuccino, but he likes the ratio of a latte better. Iced black coffee is reserved for exam week LMAO it keeps him awake in more ways than one. Those spicy drinks that circulated at Starbucks? He definitely tried one. Didn't finish it. (Has had his name spelled as Carter. So. Many. Times.)
Deuce He likely won't have gone to a coffeeshop until he's at NRC so he's a little overwhelmed by the menu and what to order. I think he would go for a small frozen hot chocolate because it's familiar enough that he thinks it sounds good, but it's still something new and he doesn't know how to make it himself yet. Once he starts going more regularly though, I think he would really like REALLY sweet frappes. Like large cookie frappuccinos whether it be chocolate crumble or sugar cookie it does not matter lskjdfhlksdjf (has had his name spelled as Doose)
Ace Having a regular latte does not satisfy his sweet tooth, though he'll have one here and there. Ace likes trying lots of different drinks, but the one he always comes back to is a large iced white mocha, no whipped cream. (In relation to my MC, the no whipped cream thing was a change he made because he knows she likes eating the ice and he drinks slower than she does, so by the time she finishes the ice in her drink, he gets to pretend like he didn't time finishing his drink just in time to let her have the ice 'like a fucking weirdo, but okay' but the whipped cream always leaves a weird fatty residue on the ice that she hate). Ace is also a sucker for peppermint hot chocolate when it's in season. (Straight up had his name written as 'ass' on the cup which is the ONLY reason he doesn't tease Deuce about his spelling)
Savannaclaw (just assume pup/cubcups are implied LMAO)
Leona Ugh this pretentious bitch /lh. Flat white is too boring, lattes are the basic bitch drink, this has too much 'coffee flavour', this needs more milk YEAH I'M SURE IT DOES KITTY. Anyways, when he's alone, he gets himself a small cup of just steamed milk, with like a half pump of (sweet) vanilla syrup. When he's around other people he gets a Cafe Cubano, which is an espresso shot prepared with brown sugar. It's a small enough portion that's sweet enough he can get over not having milk in it, but he's not Jazzed about it LMAO he just doesn't want to get the milk in front of other people my poor baby man. He sometimes gets a Cortado, but he can never remember what to call it. (Refuses to give a name, just goes by the name of the order, or he's just called by his title)
Ruggie My man works so hard. He and coffee are best friends. He and Silver bond over coffee sometimes. It's beautiful slkdjfhlksdjfsdf In the mornings, he tends to make himself a large double-double coffee, which for non-Canadians means 2 milk, 2 sugar in drip coffee. In the afternoon, around 2pm, he makes himself a small iced dulce de leche latte. When he goes to coffeeshops, he goes because he wants something he can't make/imitate at home as easily....which would be a vanilla coconut cashew smoothie. (Vanilla ice cream, coconut milk, cashew butter and protein powder). He would have a fresh fruit smoothie, but he can't enjoy fresh fruit without feeling like he should share it with his siblings because it's a hot commodity, it's a luxury for them. Frozen fruit is cheaper and easy to make into smoothies, so he makes them a lot at home. Of course, if he's at a coffeeshop, he's going to get a donut too. (Has never paid attention to the spelling of his name, doesn't care)
Jack He cannot handle caffeine my poor baby, he would be so jittery and anxious. He is a fresh fruit smoothie guy, and also he cannot stand matcha (Vil made him try it at one point). He likes blueberry-acai banana smoothie with greens, yogurt, and protein powder. Otherwise, Jack will just get a small chamomile tea with honey as sweetener. (His name is always right and his tail wags when the barista throws on a happy face next to his name.)
Octavinelle
Azul Azul tends to drink Milky Oolong tea, because of the health benefits. Does he like the flavour. Debateable, I don't know I haven't had this drink I can't tell you if I think he does or not. Probably. I read somewhere it kinda tastes nutty or like Danish cookies. When he goes to an actual shop though, he tends to get an Americano. (Assule, Asul, Azhoole, he tends to spell his name out for people now too)
Jade Not a coffee or sweets guy. We know that he's fascinated by the varie-tea (badum tss and I immediately get hit in the head with a chancla) that tea has to offer. I think Jade has had caffeine once and like. You know how humans. kind of have exposure to caffeine as kids even in small amounts, like in chocolate, or in stuff like certain sodas. Mers don't get that. They don't get that exposure at all. Jade on caffeine was a terrifying experience for any and everyone involved and he is not allowed to have more, nor will he allow himself to have any because dear great seven he swears he saw God and he doesn't even know who that is. That being said, Jade likes Jasmine herbal tea, while he prefers it piping hot and just a touch sweet, he isn't opposed to having it iced. His favourite blend is good either way, as it has rose hips, hibiscus and orange peel. He also enjoys Chaga mushroom tea. (His name is generally spelled correctly)
Floyd Like I said. Mers don't get that exposure to caffeine that other species in TWST do get. However Floyd, to me, has ADHD. And what does my ADHD do to me sometimes when I drink caffeine? I pass the fuck out, orrrr I'm finally able to focus because caffeine is a stimulant and makes everything better!! (This is why I would down an extra large iced vanilla latte right before exams LMAO) Floyd doesn't care so much about the flavour than he does it's effects, so he generally just asks what drink has the most caffeine and gets that, usually a large nitro cold brew, and he tells the barista to surprise him with a flavour just NOT salted caramel flavour. (He gives a random name every time)
Scarabia
Kalim ADHD 2.0 but addiction is just a general worry for his family, so Jamil makes sure he only makes herbal teas, and smoothies. That being said, left unattended Kalim would order whatever tea a barista recommends. Otherwise, he gets a mango lassi. He also often enjoys any flavour of lemonade, carbonated or otherwise.
Jamil Aw man. This guy. Needs so much caffeine, and as much as he enjoys tea, Kalim only serves herbal tea, but Jamil doesn't mind too much how sweet he makes it. When he's in the mood for it, Jamil will make his own chai blend. However, when he wants caffeine, he'll consume it in a way that would make Rollo think he's a demon. He will order a nitro cold brew, and a 2 bags of green tea on the side. He will then microwave the cold brew to make it hot and steep the green tea in it. Using Starbucks as a baseline, a large nitro cold brew has 345 mg of caffeine. One bag of green tea has anywhere between 30-50 mg of caffeine. A 'safe' amount of caffeine to consume in a day is considered 400 mg.
Pomefiore
Vil We already know that Vil's favourite food is homemade smoothies- So when he goes out of his way to go to a coffeeshop, he's not going to pay for a smoothie, unless it's right after a run with Jack. Vil's order fluctuates with the weather and time of day. If he's getting something in the early morning (5:30am-7am) and it's cool outside, he's getting a flat white with soy milk. If it's warm out, he'll get an iced Macchiato with soy milk and cinnamon. If it's mid-late morning (8am-11am) and it's cool out he gets a medium americano, though if he's feeling indulgent he gets a honey vanilla tea latte with skim milk. If it's warm out, he gets a medium vanilla oat milk cold brew or a strawberry acai lemonade if he's again, feeling indulgent. He won't consider drinking anything until about 2pm, which, if he needs something caffeinated he goes for an iced matcha latte with oat milk regardless of the weather. In the evening, (4pm-6pm) he avoids caffeine and will either drink a small decaf iced lavender latte with oat milk or decaf green tea. Once in a while, Vil will try ordering something new. If he ends up liking it, that time of day is associated with that drink, so that would be the time of day he orders it again. the Vil in my head is telling me just how hard he has to mask when a coffeeshop doesn't have the thing he wants to order and how some of these orders. he doesnt even like. but he knows that they won't be out of the ingredients because it's Just the coffee and a milk alternative. So They Can't say they Can't Make it so he doesn't have to worry about needing to mask.his day is ruined if it's a day he wants to be indulgent and they dont have the ingredients but he has to try and hide like he is crying on the inside and he feels stupid about it because its just a drink I cant tell if it's OCD or Autism but there's a little something funky going on/lh
Rook He is well aware of the effects caffeine has on him. They aren't bad per ce, but he doesn't particularly appreciate the gastrointestinal consequences. He also doesn't really find the appeal in super sweet drinks. Most of the time, Rook just wants iced lemon water, though on nights he struggles to wind down enough to go to bed, he'll brew himself or order rooibos tea with a splash of milk. The smell is the most comforting thing about it, he remembers his sister used to make it for him.
Epel He says he's not a snob, yes he is, if you don't have apple cider, you suck, if you do have apple cider but it's a 'bad brand' you still suck, just a little less. That being said, a lot of coffee shops don't have apple flavoured drinks, and he likes making apple cider at home anyways. When Epel is out and about, he likes to order a large iced decaf maple latte. He always whispers the decaf part like it's a bad thing he can't actually have caffeine or else he turns into the squirrel from Hoodwinked. (Get's called Apple a lot, also Elle once or twice)
Ignihyde
Idia Do you seriously think this guy goes to a coffeeshop? No, it's 3am, he's on UberEats/CarriageBites, he's put in an order for a bunch of energy drinks and some of those iced coffee bottles, he throws an energy drink and probably a salted caramel cold brew in one of those SUS slushy cups, makes it slushy and downs it in less than two minutes. Get on his level. Noob. I say this as someone who drinks a near liter of an iced vanilla 'americano' in less than two minutes.
Ortho Is worried about his brother. He also loves the smell of cinnamon coffee cake.
Diasomnia
Malleus He's so lost in a coffee shop. He will spend a moment to read over the menu, realizes he needs to research the different kinds of coffee drinks before he feels comfortable ordering one, only for him to decide on having a coffee frappe. The caffeine has no effect on him so he drinks it purely for the taste.
Lilia Who do you think taught Idia to be a fucking caffeine gremlin. This motherfucker isn't even affected by the caffeine he just likes the taste of his abominable combinations and accidentally got Idia hooked. The only step Lilia doesn't do is the slush, he prefers his energy drink-coffee combo to be room temperature. Freak \lh
Silver He has Lilia as his father. Jamil and Ruggie as his peers. And Cater Diamond as a fellow coffee fanatic. This boy tries so hard to use caffeine to keep him awake, his coffee order scares the barista. (This was based an actual order I got from some guys FRIENDS because this poor dude was studying for engineering finals week, we were told not to worry about the price because they were willing to pay, and we had to give them like. Four warnings about the caffeine content. It ended up being 12 shots of espresso over ice in a 24 oz cup) He wants the biggest cup they can give him. He wants it filled with just straight espresso shots. Let me just iterate - one ounce of liquid espresso typically has about 63mg of caffeine. 12 espresso shots, using 63 mg caffeine as a baseline is 756 mg of caffeine. I don't know where that college student is now but god bless. I hope his friends took away the coffee at some point.
Sebek He doesn't like black coffee, I do think he likes particular types of coffee. Like the coffee that doesn't taste like coffee. However, his go-to order is still just a piping hot cup of hot chocolate. Also pleeeease give him the steamed milk art/latte art, he loves it more than he'll admit.
Others
Jack T. Jack has a running joke on Ace where he only drinks black coffee in front of him, each time claiming some sort of delicious or exotic flavour just for Ace to fall for it every time when he offers it and it's just black coffee...but every once in a while, it's magically cloaked Vietnamese iced coffee, but Jack won't tell Ace the name just to piss him off because Ace really likes it but he can't place what's different about it from normal coffee with sugar and milk.
Che'nya As chaotic as our favourite purple cat is, I think Che'nya is partial to a rich, thick French vanilla. I think he likes the smell more than he likes drinking it, but yeah, it's just a yummmmmmmmy drink. He gives his full name out and just. :3 at the barista.
Falena He has a latte macchiato, much like Leona, he likes his coffee to be milk heavy lmao
Najma She doesn't usually drink anything for caffeine, when she does though, it's usually her brother's chai LMAO, but she'll make it an iced chai latte. Unfortunately, I HC her as iron deficient so this isn't always. The Best Choice. When she wants a coffee flavour, she gets it in the form of ice cream or in a mocha.
Neige Doesn't drink caffeine because it's an addictive substance. Yes Vil has mocked him in his bedroom at some hour in the morning hate listening to an interview with him in it. Fucking. Golden Child. (lh) When Neige goes to a coffeeshop he usually just goes to pick up a pastry and tip the barista. He sometimes has chamomile tea before bed but with enough sugar to rot your teeth.
Rollo Every once in a while he treats himself to a decaf con panna and madeleines on the side.
----------------------------------------------------- Rapid Fire OC Orders Vizzie - Iced white mocha, no whipped cream, or iced vanilla americano/latte
Aspen - matcha latte with lavender foam and honey
Oisin - Bicerin with cinnamon on top
Cory - Romano (weirdo) /lh ----------------------------------------------------- Taglist: *DM or send an ask if you'd like to be added @fluffle-writes
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xxxcryptidxxx · 1 day
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DRIP DRIP DROP!
(Neuvillette understands the phrase “Love hurts” all too well)
"I'll paint the sky red, all for you." (Ft.Neuvillette)
Character(s): Neuvillette, Reader (Genderless)
Tags: yandere!character, SH, blood, knives, stalking, non-consensual photography, dark topics
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When the Traveller and his companion came to Fontaine, Neuvillette was indifferent, the sky cloudy, a slight air of gloom washed over the nation.
But when he first saw you, the sky immediately brightened. He absolutely adored speaking with you. It was actually difficult to keep his professional persona. 
The very minute it started to grow cloudy, Neuvillette immediately thought of you, and the skies would clear once again.
He made it a priority to keep the skies clear, just for you. He smiled, assuming you'd love the sunny weather. But you looked up and frowned slightly. 
Neuvillette’s face immediately fell. A...frown? Why in Teyvat would you frown?! 
He wasn't the only one to notice, Aether raised an eyebrow at your lackluster reaction to the change in weather. 
“Something wrong? You don't look too happy…”
You paused, turning to look at Aether.
“It's…nothing really. I just really love rain. I prefer gloomy weather over sunny, warm weather…but it's okay. I heard the rain is the Hydro dragons tears, I don't want to make someone cry.”
You casually mentioned your love of rain and gloomy weather, displaying a slight disappointment at the change in weather type.
Neuvillette’s ears perked up, his heart sputters when he hears your concern for him., he'd never thought someone would prefer gloom over sunny days. No matter, if it's gloomy weather you want, it's gloomy weather you'll get.
Unfortunately for Neuvillette, he wasn't one of those who could cry on command, and there was nothing worth crying over—except you of course. Unable to make himself cry, he simply decided he'd need to take drastic measures. 
He stared at the letter opener on his desk, a determined yet crazed look in his beautiful blue irises. He picks it up, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
.
.
.
.
.
One…Two……Six………Fourteen……
He's lost count of how many times he’s sliced open his pale flesh, a puddle of red pulling on the floor beneath him. A sea itself of tears dripping from his pretty eyes. 
It hasn't stopped raining in days, the sea's are high, and the land is becoming waterlogged. And yet, none of that matters, for his beloved wanted rain, so rain there shall be. 
Each night he stains his wooden floor a deeper tint of red, muffled panting and hissing emitting from outside his door well into the late hours. 
He pressed the letter opener against his arm once again, carelessly running the sharp edge over the same spot, milky flesh parts immediately to give way to a sea of red, each new slice moment digging the blade deeper into muscle tissue. Crimson oozes from his wounds, pooling on the wooden flooring in a uniform puddle at his feet. His eyes burn with tears, but he wants more. He wants—no. He NEEDS to prove how much his Angel means to him.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Neuvillette? It's Furina, are you okay in there? It's raining pretty hard…”
Neuvillette curses under his breath silently, hiding the bloody letter opener and wrapping up his hand.
“Yes Furina, I'm fine, I just figured we needed some rain after how dry it's been.” 
Furina wasn't convinced, but she didn't want to intrude.
“O-Okay…just…let me know if you need anything…”
Neuvillette merely grunts in response, a very dismissive reaction. He waits for the sound of Furina's footsteps to disappear before picking his letter opener back up.
His office starts to smell vaguely of iron, his gloves now for more than just aesthetics. The secrets his sleeves hide are for him and only him to know about. Each night he adds a new line to his pale skin, skin and muscle separating, pain receptors do nothing to stop him. The edges of his vision get dark and blurry, his head light from blood loss. 
(Un)fortunately for Neuvillette, he has friends who care and worry about him. Annoyingly caring, can't they see he's busy?! Any and questions aimed to get answers out of him end in short, vague responses. 
He dodges the questions of Furina, waving her off with a poor but plausible excuse. He's gotten surprisingly rude to Wriothesley, especially when Wriothesley was near his beloved, their relationship strains, yet Neuvillette always manages to silver tongue his way out of any tension. Not even Sigewinne can get anything out of him.
He spends his free time following his beloved from a distance, taking note of every little thing said and done. Stopped at a shop to look at some trinket? One of each color is mailed to your residence. 
Your favorite flower, snack, or some type of gift is always at your doorstep, a handwritten, anonymously sent card attached to each gift. You don't know who it is or how they found your address, but they don't seem to be malevolent so you accept the gifts, keeping them on your desk. 
Neuvillette's heart races each time he sees you accept his presents, smiling like a schoolgirl who's crush looked at her in math class. So what if it's a little creepy that he's been following you home every night? It's just…for protection. 
God's forbid you'd ever express concerns for him to him, his heart might just stop. You're too cute, a mortal worrying about someone thousands of years old? How precious. Even more of a reason for him to protect you. There's a lot of sick people out there who could ruin you. Unacceptable.
Oh and by the way, ignore the camera sounds, he doesn't know how to turn the shutter off on his camera yet. Neuvillette just wants a few hundred photos for his room. Nothing too bad, just some of you walking, eating, sleeping. Totally normal. I mean it's not like he taped a photo of you sleeping to his pillow so he could pretend he was cuddling you. Absolutely not, you have the craziest ideas!
Neuvillette is oblivious to the looks of concern and even the ones of anger. Who cares if there's so much water houses are flooding? That smile on his gloomy Angel's face makes nothing else matter.
Who needs the sun anyway? 
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theggning · 2 years
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The Ace Attorney Parenting Tier List
If there’s one thing our favorite anime lawyer series has a lot of, it’s murders. If there’s two things, then it’s murders and awful parents.
It’s harder to find a good, attentive, caring parent in these games than it is to find a well-adjusted prosecutor. But out of all the malicious schemers, child-abandoners, deadbeats and just plain dead people, who are the best and worst parents in the Ace Attorney series? 
I have decided to rank them into a tier list using a highly scientific rating system. 
Rampant, unmarked spoilers for the entire AA series within (including AAI1 and 2 and TGAA)
CW: child abandonment and neglect, some mentions of verbal abuse
In order to qualify for ranking on this list, characters must meet the following criteria: 
They must be a named character with actual canon information about them. Offscreen or mentioned-only characters are not allowed (eg: Mia and Maya’s father, Pearl’s father, Mr. Hawthorne, other “headcanon” characters)
They must be a parent, or have taken on the role of a foster parent. No siblings raising siblings, or I’d have half the characters in the series on here. Having “big dad energy” or informally/sporadically protecting a kid doesn’t count (Sorry, Badd and Godot.) 
They must be aware that they are a parent, have actually met their child, or have taken steps to do so. “Hypothetical” parenting assumptions are not allowed. (eg: That one character you’re thinking of from GAA is not here because he died before his child was born.) 
Characters on this list are ranked from S through F tier, best parents at the top, taking into account the following criteria: 
Absence: Is this person even available to parent their kid? Is it because they abandoned them or because they were murdered? (Being the victim of murder does not detract from parenting score, I go by what we know of them while they were alive.) Apathy: Is this person concerned for their child’s well-being? Do they take any steps to ensure their child is safe or taken care of? Do they pursue their personal goals regardless of how it affects their kids? Unpleasantness: Is this person a warm, caring, or kind parent? Or are they cold, difficult, cranky, demanding, or otherwise unpleasant to be parented by? (Parents with hard or unpleasant personalities are not necessarily mean or cruel.) Active Malice: Does this person take steps or make plans to actively harm their child? Do they knowingly partake in actions that will likely result in harm to their child? Scheming: Does this person involve their children in convoluted schemes? Are these schemes for their own personal benefit, or are they somehow meant to help the child in some way? (Almost, but not all of these schemes end up being terrible ideas.) Other Victims: Does anybody else have their lives negatively impacted by this person’s parenting choices? These actions must be related to this person’s parenting or kids, not just shitty things they do to others. This does include people who are victimized by the screwed-up kid’s later activities. Mitigating Factors: Does the parent have a good reason for their choices? Or are their decisions a result of events out of their control? Audacity Multiplier: Special consideration is given to circumstances which are over-the-top, absurd, highly unlikely in a realistic setting, or otherwise “super anime.” EG: summoning ghosts, international politics, or international politics that involve summoning ghosts. 
As much as I joke about science and math, all rankings herein are heavily influenced by my own opinions. You are free to agree or disagree with my list (and I’d love to hear why!) Here are a few other factors that swayed my thinking, mostly in ranking characters within tiers:
Canon evidence is king. We all ASSUME Manfred von Karma was a rotten, awful dad in the day-to-day, but unless there is actual evidence to prove it, I don’t take headcanons into consideration.
Child abandonment is so prevalent in this series you have to dissect it further to get anywhere. I take into account why and how the kid was abandoned, how much control the parent had over the situation, and the parent’s motivations, if applicable. When you get to the very bottom of the list, I consider abandoning a kid less bad than ongoing cruelty or abuse towards them. 
Actions speak louder than words. I judge these folks by what they do (or do not do,) not what they or the narrative says they think or feel. 
Loving your children and being a horrible parent are not mutually exclusive. Plenty of the people on this list love their kids, but do a bad job of taking care of them. 
Loving your children and being a horrible PERSON are also not mutually exclusive. Many of these characters are otherwise nice, decent people. Several are absolute bastards who do awful things. For the purposes of this list, I am only taking into account their parenting and how they treat their kids. 
Without further ado, the unofficial Ace Attorney Parenting Tier List:
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S Tier: SUPER Great Parents 
The best of the best (admittedly, the bar is very low.) But these parents are not only great, they are alive and present in their children’s lives, and those kids are thriving. 
Herlock Sholmes: Here he is, the best dad in the AA series. Sholmes gets an infant dumped in his lap by his deported bestie/boyfriend and proceeds to absolutely nail the parenting thing. Iris is safe, happy, well cared-for, and has her MD at age 10. Great DADtective is more like it. 
Phoenix Wright: Our series protag also has fatherhood thrust upon him (in the middle of a massive life crisis, no less) but he takes to it with gusto. I ranked him below Sholmes both because he didn’t have to care for Trucy as an infant, and because he condones her being something of a con artist. Trucy’s doing great, though, and her New Daddy is a massive upgrade from her old one. (But Phoenix, could you please tell her about her mother and half-brother already?) 
Damian Tenma: Damian’s just a big proud dad/pro wrestler willing to fake demonic possession and eat a murder conviction for his baby girl. Jinxie is a bit skittish due to growing up in a youkai-themed village, but I don’t take quirky or unusual upbringings into account if the kid is otherwise doing well. All these high tier good parents are pretty much on the same level, so the next few rankings come down to my whims. 
Justine Courtney: Single career woman taking in her orphaned cousin and raising him right. In the tumultuous world of child acting, John will benefit from having a protective, strong-willed mother keeping an eye on him. 
Plum and Winfed Kitaki: Yes, the literal yakuza outrank many of the other parents on this list. The Kitakis may have raised their son in the middle of a crime family, but they have now abandoned the glitz of the “family business” after the lifestyle nearly ended Wocky’s life. Winfred’s determination to pay for Wocky’s surgery with clean money is a refreshing bit of self-awareness and restraint, too. Your average AA parent would be committing sixteen murders or a couple poorly planned grand larcenies to get that money. Fun fact: the Kitakis are one of only two sets of married parents on this list. 
A Tier: Good Parents with an Asterisk (Probably Dead)
The folks in this tier are also by all accounts good parents. There’s just some mitigating factor keeping them out of the S tier– mostly, that they have been murdered and are dead and no longer able to parent. 
Dead parents in this tier had to have shown some sort of valiant, selfless, or just plain involved parenting before their demise. 
Gregory Edgeworth: Would be a high rank in S tier were he not sadly deceased and unable to raise Miles. By all accounts, ol’ Greg Edgeworth was a fantastic, thoughtful, sensitive father who made his son’s well-being a priority at all times. This includes potentially lying to the cops when he was channeled after DL-6. RIP Greg, in Dad Heaven now. 
Sister Bikini: Iris considers the delightful Bikini her mother, and believes Dahlia wouldn’t have ended up such a nightmare if Bikini raised her, too. Bikini’s asterisk is only because Iris spends much of her youth running around colluding in crimes, of which Bikini seems completely oblivious. (Where did you think Iris was going every day for eight months?)
Jeffrey Master: A nice dad who will do anything to protect his beloved foster daughter, Katherine. Her devotion to him is evidence of his excellent parenting. She’s also 16 when Jeffrey goes to prison on false charges, so his “abandonment” is negligible (and also out of his control.) 
Courtney Sithe: Maria is a bit strange and has some morbid interests, but a quirky upbringing is by no means a bad thing. Courtney’s shady dealings do not extend to her daughter, who is also in possession of a medical degree at a very young age. They do, however, seriously upset and disillusion Maria onscreen, and this is what keeps Courtney out of the S tier. 
Byrne Faraday: Single dad, obviously very attentive to Kay. The father-daughter promise notebook is very sweet and shows a high level of involvement. His death comes about due to unforeseen betrayal (and because he was secretly part of a three-person spy ring) but there is family available to care for Kay in his stead, which is honestly a rarity in this series. A contingency plan for your kid’s welfare? Instant A tier. 
Inga Karkhuul Khura'in: Proving that personal character does not factor into parenting skill, awful bastard tyrant Minister Inga is actually a doting, caring father. He genuinely adores Rayfa (who he knows is not his blood daughter) and none of his schemes and power-grabs involve her in any way. Though he is a total prick to absolutely everyone else, he’s warm to Rayfa and she clearly prefers him over her mother. It’s especially fascinating to compare him to Dhurke (who, spoilers, is going to be way, way, way near the bottom of this list.) 
Jove Justice: Alas, poor Jove. He doesn’t get much time to be a dad, but he was by all accounts a good one. Splits parenting duties fairly with Thalassa so they can both pursue their careers, and dies in the middle of saving infant Apollo from a fire (though he dies from murder, not from the fire.) I also want to give him props for getting Thalassa away from her own horrible father, albeit temporarily. Pour one out for Papa Justice, he was a real one. 
Iyesa Nosa: I would normally consider a dad caring for his infant son “bare minimum” parenting and not worthy of extra praise. But given the time period and expected gender roles in Japan at the time of GAA, Iyesa taking on childcare duties when his measly salary can’t afford it otherwise is notable. Good for him. 
B Tier: Bare Minimum Decent Parents
Parents who just like, do parent stuff for their kids without any wild circumstances or bizarre plots. Parents who don’t do any spectacularly negative things or whose parenting is unremarked upon either way also end up here. 
Ernest Amano: The man himself is an obnoxious wealthy scuzzball. He does throw his money around for the sake of his equally obnoxious son, though, so I guess that makes him your basic decent parent. Eat the rich. 
Lawrence “Moe” Curls: Moe’s daughter Larina is in the custody of her mother, who left Moe due to his failed clown career. He laments this state of affairs and worries how he’ll support her if the circus ends up closed. So Moe’s marriage is on the rocks and he pays child support, at the moment. Guy just seems to be in a rough patch, and hopefully his swap to ringmaster will help work things out. 
Metis Cykes: Athena mistakes her mother’s chilly demeanor and experimental devices for a lack of caring about her, but this is a misunderstanding. Metis was trying to help her daughter and always had her best interests in mind, but was perhaps just not the warmest or most emotionally open mother to her. It happens that way sometimes. Otherwise, no reason to think Metis was anything less than decent. 
Russell Berry: Regina is not the most well-adjusted teenage girl in the world, and Russell’s avoidance of conflict ends up tormenting Acro right off the rails. But apart from the recent tragedies, everyone speaks highly of Russell’s kindness, and he adopted Acro and Bat and raised them as his own sons. Good dad, if a tragically flawed one. 
Genshin Asogi: Genshin dips off to London on a study trip for six years, but Kazuma is old enough at the time to understand this and exchange correspondence with him. Genshin then gets absolutely turbofucked by the entire British judicial system, which is in no way his fault. I also think the way he sent the liberating evidence proving his innocence back to Japan was pretty cool. Anyway, an unfortunate case of a good dad getting totally screwed over. 
Amara Sigatar Khura’in: Amara is the victim of political machinations that make her think her own husband has betrayed her, and lives imprisoned under an alias. She raises Rayfa under this alias and seems to be a good and caring mother. However, her apparent callousness re: Nahyuta and the stunning naivety that lets her and her children get manipulated by her clearly evil sister for 20 years are worth a raised eyebrow. Getting pregnant while being actively hunted down by an oppressive regime is also pretty dumb. Amara, please learn to think for yourself and stop believing whatever the last thing that Ga’ran/Dhurke/Ga’ran told you.  
C Tier: Parental Redemption Arc
These parents were not great, made some not-great choices, or were involved in not-great circumstances. They are now trying to do better. Not always successfully, but they are trying. Parents who actively take steps towards doing better are ranked higher than those who just kind of say they’re going to (or the goddamn writers haven’t let them yet.) 
Yujin Mikotoba: Deep in the throes of grief, Yujin bailed on his newborn daughter and Watsoned around London for six years before being deported back into parenthood. He feels severely guilty for not existing in Susato’s life for all that time, and is now trying to make up for it by being an indulgent, supportive, feminist dad.
He still jacks it up here or there. Lying to Susato about being on his deathbed is pretty fucked up, but it is an attempt to protect her. And if we get into Kazuma and what Yujin does or does not know about that whole situation, things get even muddier. But he’s TRYING, which is more than I can say for a lot of these jerks. (I’m not counting baby you-know-who in here, because Yujin only had custody for a very short time and did indeed see the kid into capable, loving hands.) 
“Twice-Fired” Mason: His wife left him, took the kid, and changed their surname to escape their miserable impoverished lifestyle. It seems Mason was more or less a deadbeat until Ashley re-established contact with him– albeit, so Mason could help him with a dangerous criminal conspiracy. Sensing trouble, Mason tries to intervene on his son’s behalf and ends up dead for it. Ashley’s proceeding actions (which I gotta say, are pretty metal) prove there was some fondness between father and son, but Mason’s life was cut short before they got the chance to fully reconcile. Bummer. 
Colin Devorae: Another falsely convicted dad. Colin escapes from prison, goes into hiding working for the Amanos, and conveniently reunites with his daughter Lauren when she starts dating Lance. Colin uses this situation to watch over his daughter, but for some reason chooses not to tell Lauren who he is– info then used to blackmail him into doing crimes for Lance. Halfway through crimes, after Lauren is already involved, Colin tries to murder Lance to… prevent Lauren from doing crimes? What the hell is this timing, dude? He’s like half a bead off from actually protecting Lauren at any given moment. He also gets pointlessly shot and dies for this. C for effort, I guess. 
Di-Jun Huang: Zheng-Fa President Huang was not aware he was a dad, but once he was informed about his love child he had every intention of taking responsibility. Unfortunately, he was assassinated before he ever got to do this. Huang is an edge case as far as my eligibility rules go, but his kid is actually born and he takes obvious steps showing he’s going to step up. That’s enough canon info to place him here. 
Thalassa Gramarye: Thalassa holds the dubious honor of losing not one, but TWO children in spectacularly dramatic fashion, neither of which were her fault at all. It is entirely understandable how she could lose track of Apollo, given the chaos in Khura’in after the coup. It’s also not her fault that her own shitbag father chooses to use her near-fatal accident as an opportunity to be an asshole. However, it is probably about time that Thalassa comes forward to Apollo and Trucy. It’s been like three years and I’m not sure what she’s waiting for. Even the credits of SoJ think so. C’mon girl, get to it. 
D Tier: Questionable/Criminal Parenting
Oh, now we’re getting spicy. These parents approach their duties with questionable or dysfunctional methods, up to and including using their children to do crimes. They are spared a lower tier by making an attempt to be decent, or at least not committing the spectacular fuckups of those below them. Yet.
Taifu Toneido: Maybe it was a quirk of being an old rakugo master, but being Taifu’s own kid seems like it was absolutely miserable. Geiru seems to think the only way to please him is to inherit his title, and she busts her ass to do so. The only acknowledgement she receives is worded like “you suck at this and you’ll never be my heir” when he allegedly means it more like “I can tell this isn’t where your passion lies and I want you to follow your own path.” He is so bad at relaying this idea that Geiru snaps and murders him quite brutally in a fit of pique. This is why it’s important for us to use our words, kids. Being cryptic gets you murdered by clown tits. EDIT/CORRECTION:  Okay, can you tell I only played Turnabout Storyteller one time? I completely forgot that Taifu Toneido is not Geiru’s father, her father is dead and Taifu inherited the rights to the name “Uendo Toneido” from him. Whoops. Either way, he sounds like a really obnoxious master, so he can stay here in spirit. 
Drew Misham: Drew starts off a decent dad, but chooses to use Vera’s prodigal artistic talent to create forgeries. Then he makes the quite literally fatal error of doing this for Kristoph Gavin. He is so terrified that Kristoph is going to show up and murder them that he goes full agoraphobic shut-in and cripples the already traumatized Vera’s social skills. Drew is absolutely correct to be afraid of Kristoph– but none of this would have happened if he didn’t decide to use his daughter for crimes in the first place. Womp womp. 
Ga’ran Sigatar Khura’in: Ga’ran keeps Rayfa around mostly as a bargaining chip to use against her sister and nephew– it is made very clear that she’ll destroy Rayfa’s life if either of them step a foot out of line. She’s also cold, demanding, and unpleasable to the point where Rayfa clearly prefers her father.
Ga’ran does, however, put on a motherly facade and allows Rayfa to be comfortable and well cared-for, which is the only saving grace that keeps her from E tier or lower. Her lust for power and cruel actions are separate from her actual parenting ability, though they do deprive several other characters of their good parents (still doesn’t count, though.)
Notably, apart from the Kitakis, Ga’ran and Inga are the only married parents on this list. Unlike the Kitakis, they absolutely hate each other. 
E Tier: Oh My God These Kids Need Therapy
Now we’re really in the dumpster. The people in this tier are either callous, cruel, spectacularly neglectful, or perform such outrageously fucked up actions that we can definitively say they are all awful parents. Some of these kids are so jacked up that they go on to victimize others– and the ones that don’t will definitely need the aid of a good therapist somewhere down the line. 
This is where the audacity factor comes in. Some of these characters do such wild and dramatic things that it’s very difficult to compare them to more mundane bad parenting in the examples above. 
Dane Gustavia: Gustavia’s complete and utter apathy at the disappearance of his kid is truly something to behold. Like man, this guy did not care at ALL when his son was traumatically kidnapped and vanished in the aftermath. This shocking neglect also creates one of the most fucked up monsters in the entirety of AA, who goes on to ruin the lives of multiple other people.
So why does Gustavia get to sit at the top of this tier? Because his parental carelessness is a one-time thing. He cares so little for his son that once he makes the choice to abandon him, he never gives another thought to the kid ever again. Other E tier residents screw up multiple kids, or make multiple bad decisions that I find more impressively galling. But make no mistake, the drop between Ga’ran up in D tier and Gustavia down here is MASSIVE. This guy’s an absolute prick. 
Pierre Hoquet/Isaac Dover: AAI2 may as well have the subtitle “Ballad of the Bad Dads.” Pierre also screws up his son in spectacular fashion, but easily plummets down the ranks for masterminding the child kidnapping scheme. Commanding your weeping, pleading little boy to imprison his best friend and himself in a car where the two of them nearly freeze to death is certainly one way to win an episode of Top Chef. This situation is so fucked up I’m also docking Pierre for child abandonment, when he would normally be excused for that on account of being murdered. Absolute yikesburger.
Misty Fey: Perhaps a controversial position for her, but I did write an entire post about what a garbage mom Misty is. To summarize: disappears for 17 years due to perceived wound to family pride. Zero contact with daughters, even when one of them is murdered and the other goes through numerous traumatic situations which all make the news. Comes out of hiding to plan and participate in the nutty Hazakura  murder prevention plot, which is a terrible idea on all fronts– but Misty agrees to it because it means she doesn’t have to face or talk to Maya (which she has no intention of doing. Ever.) The entire plot of Bridge to the Turnabout is just as much her fault as anyone else’s. There is also the bit where she tries to deal with a spirit trying to kill her daughter by BECOMING the spirit trying to kill her daughter.
Misty truly sucks at this, but I rank her worse than Hoquet and Gustavia because when they abandon their kids, it’s into the foster care system–  meanwhile Misty abandons her 12 and 2-year-old daughters in the custody of the sister who openly hates her and covets her legacy. Why not just leave Mia and Maya in a snakepit? The snakes might not be venomous, but Morgan Fey definitely is. 
What’s really sad is that the time and opportunity Misty had to get over herself and come back into her daughter’s lives is huge. She had 17 years and every chance in the world to do better, and she doesn’t. She never intended to. Her situation is resolvable, the tragedy is all preventable, and she lets it perpetuate for her stupid pride. 
Misty claims she “never stopped thinking” about her daughters, and god damn that picture in her talisman makes me cry every time. But my tears have not blinded me to the fact that holy shit, she’s a horrible mother. 
Dhurke Sahdmadhi: Another previous guest star on my blog. Dhurke is a noble person and a charming guy, and it honestly pains me to rank him below the likes of the AAI2 chef dads. Alas, the problem with Dhurke has to do with scale. The stakes in SoJ are ludicrously high, so when Dhurke fucks up his kids, it’s on like… an international level.
Being a wanted fugitive framed for a coup is not Dhurke’s fault, but again and again, he prioritizes his rebellion over the safety and well-being of his children. Note the plural, because Dhurke also screws up with ALL THREE of his kids. Because the revolution is “not his problem,” Dhurke abandons a 9-year-old Apollo in America (a country he has no memories nor cultural knowledge of.) He neglects to send Nahyuta along too, and he ends up right in the government meat grinder, breaking his spirit and turning him into a puppet of Ga’ran. He conceives Rayfa while on the lam, handing Ga’ran yet more collateral to hold over Nahyuta and Amara. And when he finally goes back to find Apollo, it’s to drag him kicking and screaming into the revolution, and a situation in which he will be executed if he fails. Apollo has every right to be pissed at him, and Nahyuta gets completely robbed of his own chance to be.
Dhurke is portrayed as a heroic and tragic figure who will do anything to protect his kids, but the latter claim falls apart with even the slightest bit of scrutiny. He means well and he may be trying his best, but good grief, Dhurke, your best absolutely blows. 
Shadi Enigmar/Zak Gramarye: Abandonment of your daughter is one thing. The premeditated abandonment of your daughter that you orchestrate by tricking her into thinking it’s her first magic show is quite another. Zak is ready to ditch Trucy and peace the fuck out LONG before the tide in the courtroom turns against him, and makes no attempt to ensure she’ll be taken care of once he bounces.
The apathy alone would score him low, but Zak comes back for the malice points seven years later, aiming to destroy Phoenix’s reputation. You know, Phoenix. The man who is feeding and caring for his daughter. Why? I don’t know, pure spite? God, this guy is such a dick. I kind of don’t blame Kristoph for bashing his brains out. 
Magnifi Gramarye: What the fuck is wrong with the Gramaryes? Magnifi was a world class asshole, impossible to please, and a nightmare to work for. But he wouldn’t be on this list if his shittery didn’t also include his daughter Thalassa. When she is shot in an accident during a rehearsal, Magnifi decides to take those lemons and make some lemonade– he lies about her “death” to threaten and blackmail his two apprentices, Valant and Zak (the latter of whom is also Thalassa’s husband. And also a jerk, but this is his wife, dude.) Meanwhile, he dumps his blind, amnesiac daughter off the back of the tour bus so hard she ends up a European pop star. How in the hell does that happen? Absolutely stunning.
If we counted his myriad apprentices as his kids, Magnifi would rank even lower on this list, because they’re still coming out of the woodwork pissed at him and seething for vengeance a decade after his death. 
Manfred von Karma: What really makes ol’ Manny stand out from the crowd is the time and effort that goes into his bullshit. Adopting your rival’s orphaned son so you can raise him wrong as a joke and then frame him for murder twice over fifteen years later is a plan so petty, so devious, and so prolonged in its cruelty that it’s instantly a finalist for the Worst Father in Ace Attorney.
However.
After much deliberation, I can’t actually give Von Karma that title. Why? Because his sinister parenting was only targeted at Edgeworth, and did not necessarily manifest in mundane, everyday cruelty. I have no doubt that having Manfred von Karma for a dad is an intimidating and harrowing experience. He’s absolutely strict and domineering, and Franziska certainly has an inferiority complex- but there’s no canon information that Manfred was abusive to her or the unknown other VK kid at all. (One of the anime episodes even shows him being quite indulgent, if not a bit cold and stuffy.) We don’t know that he was openly mean to Edgeworth either, for that matter.
Don’t get me wrong, this is in no way a defense of him. The fifteen-year long game to ruin Edgeworth’s life because his dad got him written up at work is truly unhinged and over-the-top evil. Only on this ranking is it “better” that you only have sinister plans for one of your three kids, and Manfred is a truly magnificent example of an awful, awful father– but there is one AA Dad who’s even worse. 
Also, please note that if this ranking was allowed to include all of the lives ruined by all of a character’s actions, Manfred von Karma easily takes the gold medal grand prize. I didn’t forget about DL-6, Manny, and neither did anyone else in this traumatized canon. 
F Tier: The Worst of the Worst
Reserved for the absolute worst father and worst mother in the series. 
Blaise Debeste: Absolute bastard, completely unpleasant in every aspect of his personality and character design. What lands Blaise down here beneath all these other atrocious dads is the explicit, onscreen verbal abuse he hurls at Sebastian at every given opportunity. Manfred von Karma makes cruel plans for his adoptive son, but we don’t see him degrading his confidence and calling him names. Other dads may abandon their kids without a thought, but at least those kids have a chance to get away from their shitty parents– Sebastian is stuck with Blaise, who is also implied to have “disappeared” his own wife, depriving him of his mother too. No other father in this series cares less and treats their kid with the same open contempt as Blaise Debeste, and that is why he gets the crown for Worst Dad. 
But there’s still one parent worse than him. 
Morgan Fey: With the given criteria, nobody else comes close. Morgan is bitter, spiteful, selfish, and cares nothing for her children beyond how they can help her reclaim the Kurain Master’s seat. When her twins Dahlia and Iris cannot, she gets rid of them (there’s some conflicting info whether Morgan gave them up or Mr. Hawthorne took them away from her– either way, Morgan doesn’t give a shit since neither of them have much spiritual power.) When Pearl turns out to have strong powers, the poor kid becomes the linchpin of all Morgan’s plans. She smothers Pearl and keeps her confined to Kurain Village, restricting who she talks to and what she learns (she can barely read and knows very little basic knowledge you would expect of a girl her age.) When Morgan’s first scheme to get rid of Maya fails and she’s arrested, she comes up with an even worse one.
The Hazakura murder plot is a grand culmination of Morgan’s spite, her selfish pride, and the way she views her daughters like tools– tricking an unwitting Pearl into summoning Dahlia to murder her cousin, then pinning all the blame on Iris. Sending Iris down for murder is pretty outrageous on its own, but turning her sweet, trusting 9-year-old into a murderer by proxy is whole new levels of twisted. (Dahlia also alludes that Morgan was planning to kill her– perhaps suggesting that if she had not been on death row, Morgan would off her for the sole purpose of this dumb plan.)
Every one of Morgan’s evil actions is directly tied to her children – and all of this is without including Mia and Maya, who were 12 and 2 when abandoned into Morgan’s custody. In case you need a refresher, she’s openly hostile to Maya, tries to frame her for murder and then tries to straight-up murder her.
As if all that wasn’t enough, Morgan’s monstrous parenting also gives rise to Dahlia, the second most prolific murderer in the trilogy, who ruins the lives of four additional people and almost takes out Phoenix Wright as well. 
So congratulations to Morgan Fey, not only the Worst Mother in the series, but the absolute nadir in this cavalcade of bad parenting. By a long shot.
Quick Edit: One small revision, swapped two people. See if you can guess who. 
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seventh-district · 13 days
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Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition
[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]
#boothill#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr incorrect quotes#hsr memes#honkai star rail memes#hsr meme#honkai star rail meme#hsr textpost#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#hsr spoilers#hsr 2.2 spoilers#hmmm... don't think it's worth tagging the others in the 9th image. this ain't about them#still unsure abt how to do the alt text for these kinda posts properly but hopefully i'm improving#anyways. don't think i've ever seen heard and typed "cowboy' so many times in one day as i have while making this good lord#i did a bit of digging around and haven't Seen any of these done yet so. here's hoping that's the case!#i'm only ~3/4 of the way through the 2.2 main quest but the need to make these compelled me to put these out Now#i can already tell u that there Will be more of these for Boothill tho bc i'm crazy abt him. probably enough to make another dedicated post#but i'm gonna wait until i'm fully caught up on the plot (and will probably spoil myself for more of his character lore after that as well)#speaking of. i'm gonna go eat mac n' cheese and stay up too late playing through the rest of the main quest#i'm loving it so far. many thoughts head full abt it all but in a good way. hoping for more Boothill moments as we approach the end#he's def not the main character here but he is to Me okay. he is to me. i'm scarfing down every crumb he drops#i'm also suffering from Aventurine withdrawals out here. Argenti mentioning him was Interesting but i need More. Where Is He.#also. was Argenti intentionally not voiced or was it a game issue?? the hell was that. threw me off so hard when i couldn't hear him speak#anyways i'm getting off topic and wasting precious gaming time so i'll be takin' my leave now
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
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It's the 6 month anniversary of this blog! Check out these cool bugs I found.
(EDIT: Check out this amazing fanart by thecornermushroom!)
Part 2 - Part 3
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luck-of-the-drawings · 2 months
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OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever
#jrwi fanart#cw blood#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#arthur bennett#OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob:#BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay#i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY.#THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL#so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM..#grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that#ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT#arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES#I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM.#I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no#ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE#BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much...#GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that#we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW#he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE..#i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar#I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS#also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that#human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY#i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK#feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh
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zaacoy · 1 year
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watah adventacha!!!! !!! :3c
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sciderman · 2 months
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I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain
Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it
i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)
really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!
undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.
i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.
people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.
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peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.
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it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."
so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.
people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.
autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.
#a lot of my traits have been exacerbated lately and i remember it was much easier for me before#and some of my friends have said “oh it's because you've been masking too long and now you're facing autistic burnout.”#and that made sense to me i think.#but then i found out about the stress thing. me overproducing stress hormone. and that's a very physical thing.#and that explains why i've been overstimulated more than usual lately. and why everything feels like too much.#and i wonder how many of these traits of mine are going to subside once i have lamar removed#and it makes me wonder a lot of things. and it's so weird how much your brain is tied to your biology.#i wonder how much i'll change. i wonder how i'll feel. i wonder if i'll still feel like me. i wonder how much me is me right now.#and how much of me is being altered by weird freaky hormones. who am i?? who will i be??#i'm almost looking at this as like. a superhero origin story of some sort. like this is my spider-bite moment. maybe.#will i be different? will i cope with things differently?? now that my body isn't fighting something anymore??#maybe i'll be normal. i don't know. i don't know.#i don't know what it'll mean for me.#but all of these things mean i relate to peter parker in a certain kind of way#i don't think you have to be diagnosed with autism to recognise and empathise with those traits i think#i think everyone can see themselves in peter. and i think that's the benefit of having characters that aren't diagnosed.#because there's so much overlap in the human experience. and certain feelings aren't exclusive to just one group of people.#peter has such a rich identity actually. it's an autistic thing. it's a queer thing. it's a jewish thing. it's a trauma thing.#there are so many overlapping parts of peter's identity that inform who he is and how he behaves and it's never just one thing.#it's a product of all of his things.#just like me! just like everyone.#so me? i guess i can be a million things. you can explain what i am in a million different ways.#a hundred different psychologists can all come up with different ways to explain why i be the way i be.#i don't think it's something that can be simplified.#sorry wow. i'm really going off here in the tags.#i hope people don't think i'm stupid. i don't know brain science. i'm just philosophising as usual.#sci speaks
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amaritheartist · 7 months
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That one character that you love/loathe so much that you want to
Preserve them in a jar
Spread them across some dough
Roll them up tight
Bake in the oven at 420°C for 24 hrs (or until burnt to a crisp)
Then feed them to your friend
You know the one.
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bigfemboyenergy · 2 months
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The Worst Crossover To Ever ‘Cross Over’ Pt.2
See, Danny isn’t terribly surprised with his predicament. And by that, he means that he is wholly unsurprised that he has to fake who he is. A fourteen year old kid working, in this day and age? Unlikely, he thinks. So he decides to pretend to be fifteen, what an easy fix. But that doesn’t help with Sonic’s side of the problem. Sure, Sonic gets confused for a kid, but..how old is he?
As soon as the thought surfaces, Danny opens his mouth to speak, turning to look at Sonic as they walk around, searching for a somewhat acceptable abandoned building or something similar to hide out in for now. “Uh, how old are you, exactly?” Danny asks, with little hesitation. Sonic shrugs; “Old enough to legally drink in some countries- why, worried about something?” Danny feels his face turn a bit white. Wow, his appearance does not match his age. With a nervous smile, Danny responds with, “Yeah, dunno if you could get a job looking like that. I’m fourteen, and even I look older than you.” Sonic coughs awkwardly. “I’m gonna have to work on that, aren’t I? What an unlucky day it is,” he says, with a yawn. Shelving that problem in order to focus on the most important one, the two continue to wander the streets, looking for something to temporarily call “home”.
It isn’t too long before they find a suitable place. Dark, dreary, just like everywhere else; but it’s far more exaggerated, and even dirtier than the rest of the city. Some old graffiti here and there, a broken window or two. Not too shabby on the inside, still has running water and an AC. It makes Danny wonder just how old this building is and just how long it’s been since it was last lived in.
Sonic inspects every nook and cranny of the building, as if checking for safety violations. It appears to be an old office building, with kitchen necessities in what might’ve been a break room, and running water in the bathrooms. He investigates alone, namely for “Danny’s safety”, he says, but it makes one think. The amount of spiders he’s killed seems to point to a different conclusion..but that’s of no matter.
After looking at every floor, Sonic finally decides which one they’ll be staying on. Something that’s just a cut above the rest, and also safe enough- the third floor, out of four. He waves Danny over to the cleanest spot in the spacious, main room, calling out, “Let’s sleep over here for now, since we kinda can’t clean anything yet. It looks a lot nicer here, away from the nasty corners.” Danny nods, agreeing in silence. It looks like they have a lot of work to do, as they both flop on the floor and try to sleep.
Danny, however, struggles to sleep. In an entirely new city, an empty building, with someone who he’s just been freshly acquainted with, trying to sleep on the cold, hard floor? That’s no easy feat, and he acknowledges this. So he comes to the most logical conclusion: why not check out the city from above, via Phantom form? In silence, he nods in agreement with his own thought, intrigued by his new possibilities. He’ll fly out and survey the town, enjoy the sunrise, if he’s awake for that long- try to make this place feel a little bit like home. Familiarize himself with it, perhaps. It sounds like a good plan, no? So he acts.
He whispers to himself, after assuring that Sonic is asleep, “Going ghost!” He transforms in silence. A little reminder of who he is, the whispers of who he was only hours ago, come to him via his reference of his beginnings. It gives him a feeling of determination, a want to explore. A desire to protect this new friend he’s found, and the strangers of a place he’s newly discovered. Slowly slipping through the floor, intangibly, he floats out of the building, making himself invisible so as not to spook anyone else who may be out at night.
In the night sky, he soars through the clouds as he takes in the layout of the city. It’s large, dark, and..full of crime, which makes a lot of sense in such a poverty-stricken area, but.. it has an air of abnormality. Suddenly, he hears some horrible sounds. Shrill, shrieking laughter booms out from a warehouse a few blocks away, his ears wishing for the silence of seconds before to return. Although he doesn’t truly want to approach, his obsession to protect those in need draws him to the source of the sound. The closer he gets, the more off everything seems. And..are those furries on the top of that building? What have I gotten myself into, he thinks, with an accompanying facepalm. Oh, boy.
Back in the cold, dreary office building, Sonic wakes up, restless. He feels terrible..he turns towards Danny, wanting to check on him, before quickly finding out that he’s not even present. What a fantastic day this has been. Sonic feels his heart pumping, ready for a run. He has to find Danny, to make sure he’s okay. Unless..he left of his own accord? Shit, what if he actually is weirded out by me..he said something about the unusualness of a guy like me showing up, didn’t he?! Sonic struggles to decide what to do. He knows Danny could be in need, he knows he’s young. And, from what he’s gathered, he’s a bit odd too, but if he needs help, of course Sonic should jump on in for him! They’re “partners in crime” now, aren’t they?
Despite his conscience screaming at him to go, he still struggles to make the choice. What if Danny really didn’t mean anything he said? But..he listens to that loud, desperate part of him. He doesn’t want to lose the only person he’s found here. If he can save or help this kid, someone who accepts him in this strange new place, that’s just what he’ll do.
So, against his “better judgement”, he rushes off, speeding around the town to find Danny. If anything, he should be where it’s quietest or where it’s loudest, since both are eeriest. As Sonic zooms off, going incredibly fast so as not to be seen clearly, he is particularly careful to check suspicious, disturbing areas.
Not long after he began his run, he finds Danny. But it’s quite the weird situation to be in.. cause Danny’s colors are inverted now? Amd there’s this weird bat guy a few buildings away, with some friends, too.. and a fucking..clown?! What is this shit, bad writing??!
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dol-dee · 3 months
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chibified bastards
the relationship chart is my excuse to finally post these chibies! Please note that I've only included the NPC's that I already created designs for. Otherwise Robin would be included, naturally
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