#The one's under the cut may take some explanation and I ask that you be patient with me and also be respectful
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Request Rules
General
Fandom must be at least mentioned on the F/O List
If I can’t/don’t want to do your request I will just delete it
^Unless you’re off anon in which I’ll answer privately why
I tend to ramble more with headcanons so if you want more for less ask for Headcanons
Fics may not follow the prompt as I tend to get caught in the scene and flow, so if you send a prompt and I go off base just send it again
I may not always write a fic when you ask for one, it happens
Honestly? A poly request has more likelihood to get written
Sick fics as well are my kryptonite and will be given bias priority
Yandere is welcomed and encouraged
Requests for sequels or revisiting a concept are welcomed
NO NSFW
Character X Character
ANY SHIP MAY BE REQUESTED (we are proship safe here)
The more characters the better
I am biased; Ships I like may get better treatment and written faster
I will write Gen/Friendship type of fics as well just specify
Queerplatonic relationships are welcome and highly encouraged
No AUs, unless it’s one of my own
Characters must be from the same source
Don’t send me ship names, I won’t know what you’re talking about. Character/Character or Character X Character format, please.
Character X Reader
The less detail the better, honestly
90% of readers will be Gender Neutral or Gender unmentioned
All readers are Autistic by default, this setting cannot be changed
If you want the reader to behave a certain way, give me an adjective that describes their movement/speech pattern
^I know that makes no sense but saying something like “Scratchy Reader” will always give me more to work with than “Anxious reader”
Reader can have ANY relationship to the characters; Romantic, Platonic, or Familial
I default to platonic if left open ended enough
More hyperspesific rules under the cut
I try very hard not to be biased but if I don’t like a character or a ship I may decline your request just because of that. I apologize if I do.
I also tend to be very locked in keeping a character in character, so I may also decline your request just because I cannot think of a situation where a character would do that or those two would be together. Again, I apologize.
I really really don’t like writing a gendered reader so unless it is absolutely necessary please don’t request it.
I do not want to write reader taking care of either Tomura Shigiraki or Spamton G. Spamton in the popular fandom Poor little meow meow way. Something about it bothers me personally.
I won’t write romantic X readers or ship fics for any of the Warriors of Hope from Danganronpa Ultra Despair Girls. Platonic is fine.
I can’t write Spamton’s verbal tic correctly so I currently won’t write fics involving him. Headcanon requests are fine.
I actually know next to nothing about FNaF and it’s lore so while it’s free to request it, I may not always know who or what you’re talking about and may delete your request because of that
I don’t write Angst or any form of Hurt/Comfort for personal reasons.
Platonic Yanderes do exist and I beg of you to consider them
If I see you requesting multiple things and then reblog none of them, I will stop doing your requests, and you may eventually be blocked.
I may write Adult/Minor ships. These will be tagged Cradle Ships. Block that tag if you need to. (X Readers included)
I may write Incestuous ships. These will be tagged Shipcest. Block that tag if you need to. (X Readers included)
I don’t have a specific tag for any other problematic trope, if it comes up I’ll try my best to have TW tags, but may have to be reminded.
#Rules#Requests Open#Promo maybe? I'll decide in a hot second#Self shippers please ineract#Proshippers please inerteract#Self ship#Proship#Proship please interact#Self ship please interact#self shipping#X reader#gah basic tags my detested#Feel free to ask for clarification on any rules#The one's under the cut may take some explanation and I ask that you be patient with me and also be respectful#Thankyou very much#This was all Koro-Sensei's idea btw thus why he's all over this post#He will be writing a good half of the requests because again. His idea.#I made him his own blog and he doesn't even USE IT anw now he's over here like#'You should make an official rules page for X Reader requests'#'You should add that you take requests to your pinned post!'#So now he's going to be pulling his own weight in this as well#I should make a promo post but eeeeeh it can wait a few days probably#This one too forever to format and honestly. I'm still shaky about some of the more specific rules under the tag#I don't like speaking my opinion very much
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My Choice
A/N: hey everyone! I know it’s been a while. Life got pretty rocky there for a bit but things seem to be a bit better now. I’ve been wanting to write for a while so thank you to those that have requested ideas! I hope you enjoy it! I switched up the request a bit and I’m a little rusty so I hope it’s still okay.
Summary: Rhea is a mafia boss. She was your boss at your regular day job but fired you out of nowhere. What happens when she shows up at your house one night, bloody and beaten down?
Pairing: Mafia!Rhea x reader
Warnings: blood, nudity
You grabbed the lavender bath oil from the cabinet and set it next to the tub. You lit a few candles and set them around the bathroom. All that was left was to run your bath. You needed to relax after a long day.
Your boss had fired you with no explanation, and while you were given a generous severance package, you were still quite upset.
You were the executive assistant at Ripley Enterprise, working directly under the CEO, Rhea. To say the two of you were close was an understatement, which is why you were even more confused when she let you go.
You knew she was doing some shady things behind the scenes, hearing the rumors all over town about how she was a mafia boss, but you didn’t really care. She treated you and the rest of her employees well.
While she was flirty with you, she never crossed the line to inappropriate. You may have developed a small crush on her during your tenure at her company, but you never acted on it. She was your boss, after all.
You shook the thoughts from your head, not wanting to think about her or your job any longer.
Before you could get the water running, you heard a faint knock from the front door. It was so soft you almost thought it wasn’t real. But when you heard it again, you knew you weren’t imagining it.
You tightened your robe and went to the front door, peaking out the window first. You sighed before opening the door.
“Can I help you?” You asked sharply. Rhea turned around and you gasped. “What happened to you?”
You quickly pulled her inside and inspected her bloody face. Her lip was busted open and she had a cut on her brow. She had some blood on her chest that you didn’t think was hers.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t know where else to go,” she mumbled quietly, staring at the floor.
“Come on.” You pulled her into the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth. You ran it under warm water before pressing it gently to her head. She sucked in a sharp breath but let you continue.
You cleaned the blood from her face and chest, but you couldn’t do anything about the tired eyes and worn down look.
“Thank you,” she said, finally making eye contact. “I normally take care of this myself; I just…didn’t want to be alone.”
“I get it,” you nodded sadly.
“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”
“Of course- first door on your left.”
She stepped away from you and went to the bathroom.
You had no idea why Rhea decided to show up at your house out of all people, especially when she made it pretty clear she didn’t want you around anymore.
“I should go,” she said, snapping you from your thoughts. “I was interrupting your evening. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay! You don’t have to go. Why don’t I run you a bath actually and you can relax.”
“I don’t want to impose-“
“I won’t take no for an answer,” you said, pulling her back to the bathroom.
You ran the hot water and added the oil. You made sure it was the right temperature before standing back up.
“Leave your clothes, I’ll get you something to change in to,” motioning to her outfit which was stained with more blood.
“Stay, please,” she nearly whispered.
“Are you sure?” You asked, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.
She slowly made her way toward you, stopping only inches in front of you. Her fingers began to play with the tie on your robe.
“Only if you’re okay with it,” she said. You didn’t hesitate to nod and you noticed her visibly relax.
You dropped your robe and climbed into the tub, focusing on the water instead of her stripping out of her clothes.
You expected her to sit across from you, but she got in facing away from you and laid herself back against your chest.
You ran your hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe her.
“Why did you fire me?” You asked, unable to keep it to yourself any longer.
“Because I need you to be safe.”
“What do you mean? I was safe,” you told her.
“Things are getting a little dicey and I couldn’t put you at risk. I’m not exactly who you think I am,” she admitted.
“I think I have an idea and it never bothered me. I love…my job. I loved working for you no matter the risk,” you stopped yourself from saying what you truly meant.
“I figured it was easier to cut all ties with you rather than have you taken from me.”
“So you don’t want me in your life?” You asked, unable to hide the pain in your voice.
“Quite the opposite actually. You were the only person I thought of coming to tonight. I needed to see you after the night I had. I just couldn’t be the reason something happened to you.”
“It should be up to me whether I think you’re worth the risk or not,” you stated firmly.
She sat up and turned to face you.
“You’re right. And I’m sorry for taking that choice from you.”
“Apology accepted. Now can I have my job back?”
“No.” Your heart dropped. “Only because I can’t date my employees, and I’d very much like to ask you out.”
“So it’s you or my job?”
“If you want to put it that way,” she shrugged.
“I can always find another job, I can’t find another you,” you said with a small smile. Her face lit up for the first time that night.
She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You went to deepen it and she winced.
“I’m sorry!”
“Don’t apologize, now get back here,” she said, pulling you back in for more.
“I’m glad you came here tonight,” you said.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
———
Please comment and follow!
#rhea ripley#rhea ripley x reader#wwe rhea ripley#rhea ripley fanfiction#rhea x reader#wwe#rhea ripley fluff
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A Winter Beauty (19)
[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]
[warnings: mention of sex, pregnancy and giving birth, fluff]
[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next parts: Masterlist
_____
Lady Stark woke up in her husband's bed in the Red Keep, feeling a strange, unpleasant pain. She sat up, trying to catch her breath. Aemond woke up, asked her sleepily what had happened. She got up quickly and ran to the table, grabbed the bowl and vomited. Aemond, terrified, immediately called the maester, fearing that someone had poisoned her.
Aemond waited impatiently beside the bed for the maester to examine her. The man looked at him.
"My Prince, I would like to ask you to wait outside for a moment." He said calmly. Aemond frowned.
"No. What does that even mean? Do you know what's wrong with my wife or not?" He said angrily at his impertinence.
"My dragon." His wife looked at him disapprovingly. He pursed his lips, turned and left without a word. Lady Stark and the maester were left alone.
"My Lady, I will have to touch your breasts." He said and slipped his hand gently under her nightgown. She shuddered, but let him do it, turning her face the other way, embarrassed.
"Have you bleed this month, my Lady?" He asked calmly, taking his hand out and looking at it expectantly. Lady Stark pursed her lips.
"No. But it has happened in the past that my bleeding has been delayed." She said softly. The man nodded and asked the servant to lead Prince Aemond back. He stared at him, angry and scared, waiting for an explanation.
"Your wife is expecting your child, my prince."
***
The whole Red Keep received the news with great joy. Alicent immediately came to congratulate her as soon as one of her servants reported what had happened. She thought Lady Stark had trouble getting pregnant and was glad her prayers had been answered.
The truth was, it wasn't because of the prayers. When they were in Harrenhal, he had come inside her, even though those weren't the days he could do it. He'd done it before, sometimes, during their great passions, but usually she bled every month anyway. This time it was different.
That day, he practiced sword fighting alone all day, striking the wooden opponent with great ferocity. He thought that the gods had sent him his wife only to mock him, to take everything from him again and leave him even more crippled for the rest of his life. Even his mother, seeing how he approached the matter, could not reason with him.
He was not like his father. He wouldn't cut open her womb to take out his offspring. But even if he didn't, they'd both die anyway. The thought of her, pale, dead in a pool of her own blood, haunted him and drove him to despair. He wanted to scream.
When he returned to his chamber, he asked for a hot bath and ordered that no one should disturb him. He stepped into the still-steaming water, felt his skin burn and his muscles relaxed momentarily. He rested his head against the back of the tub and stared at the ceiling. He pursed his lips as he heard the door to his chamber open.
"I said do not disturb me." He spoke coldly, but no voice answered him. He heard the door close and then the sound of clothes being removed. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that his wife was undressing. The sight of her naked body, which constantly gave him so much pleasure, made him hard involuntarily.
"May I join you, my dragon?" She asked quietly, looking at him calmly and proudly. Aemond swallowed and grunted approval. Lady Stark approached the tub lightly. For a long time she was no longer ashamed of her nakedness in front of him and did not cover herself, allowing him to enjoy the beautiful view of her naked skin.
Aemond watched her as she put her foot in the water and sat down with her back to him, leaning against his chest. She felt his hard manhood press against her, throbbing. But she knew she wasn't in the mood for their games right now. She wrapped his arms around herself tightly, his lips involuntarily kissing her shoulder and neck.
"Not too hot?" He asked softly, placing wet and tender kisses on her skin. Lady Stark leaned back with a contented sigh, giving him better access.
"No, my husband. I love our hot baths, you know that." She said and he grunted contentedly as he ran his tongue over her neck. She shivered as he did so. She felt his nose pressed against her hair. They were silent for a moment, only the soft splash of water caused by their slightest movement around them.
"Forgive me." He said finally, he felt his throat tighten. Y/N gave him a pained look, turned to him and touched his cheek.
"I want this child, husband. Holding Helaena's children in my arms, seeing you carry them and play with them, I felt that I wanted this for us. I want to hold our child in my hands, give you an offspring and heir to your entire legacy. If we both choose to do so, we may not have any more children." She said confidently, placing her hand on his chest. Aemond took her hand and kissed it tenderly.
He didn't want to admit it, but as he watched Lady Stark cradle his nephew, he thought about what it would be like to hold his own child in his arms. What would it be like if he could teach his son or daughter the Old Valryian language, choose a dragon egg for them. He ran away from these thoughts, but they kept coming back to him.
After a few days, Aemond slowly came to accept that there was no going back. He entered the chamber of his wife, who gave him a surprised look, thinking that he should be at the king's council. Aemond held in his hand the dragon egg he had personally chosen for his child.
***
After the morning sickness that bothered Lady Stark in the first month of pregnancy, these unpleasant ailments stopped. Slowly, her pregnant belly began to show, so finally the ladies and lords of the keep gave her a break, ending the rumors that she could not have children.
Aemond was surprised to find that his pregnant wife was even more insatiable than before. During their walk in the garden, she would drag him into the bushes, pull her dress up and beg him to fuck her. Helpless against her charm, he never refused her, coming inside her with delight.
Lady Stark began to eat fruits in huge quantities and at all hours of the day. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and start eating an apple, telling her sleepy husband that she couldn't stand it until morning, she wanted it so badly. She also ate plenty of plums, strawberries, and peaches, anything sweet, crunchy, and wet that made her hungry.
Her husband made her happy by bringing oranges for her from distant lands, which she loved so much. They were juiced for her, which she often drank instead of wine on dinner.
Aemond was very protective and condescending, and he would be the happiest men in Westeros if his wife lay in bed all the time and rested. He got mad when he saw her shooting arrows in the yard, but she explained to him every time that if she wanted to bring his child into the world, she had to have strong muscles and keep training.
He allowed her to be physically active, but he accompanied her every time. Slowly, items for the child began to be brought to his wife's chamber - a cot, toys, robes. Aemond was getting used to his new reality and tought he's about to become a father. One night, lying with his wife, stroking her slightly rounded belly, he asked her if she thought it was going to be a girl or a boy.
"A boy." She said without hesitation.
***
Throughout the keep there was anticipation of the impending denouement and the birth of the prince and Lady Stark's child. Y/N took a lot of cool baths, because with such a warm climate, the heat was unbearable for her. Her ankles ached and swelled terribly, which her husband tenderly massaged each evening, as did her back and shoulders.
Their baby was very active and constantly kicked her. It stopped when Aemond pressed his head to her stomach and hugged her. He would fall asleep like that sometimes while his wife was stroking his hair in the meantime.
Although the maester's instructions were different, they couldn't help but get physically close. It always started with them rubbing against each other and panting as they lay on their side with her back pressed against his chest.
Her husband's hand found hers wet and suffering cunt, clenching at his every touch. It always ended up with Aemond fingering her entrance, shoving his cock inside her, saying he wouldn't go all the way in, that he would only stay in her for a while, and then he would fuck her with all his strenght, unable to stop himself, to her and his delight.
Although Lady Stark felt like she was now carrying a huge barrel in front of her body, her husband thought she looked as beautiful pregnant as before. Maternity dresses beautifully emphasized her large belly and made it easier for her to move. She was no longer able to shoot bows, but went for walks every day, unable to sit still.
Everyone was surprised to hear of Lord Corlys Valeryon's likely death at sea. It turned out that his brother, Vaemond Valeryon, and Aemond's nephew, Lucerys Valeryon, will fight for the right to the Driftmark.
Lady Stark knew that Lucerys had taken her husband's eye. Her husband himself told her this story early in their marriage, even though she didn't ask him. Apparently, he didn't want her to hear about it from rumors, but from him.
It was then that he told her that the dragon could not be stolen, only that it had to be tamed. He did it first, denying Leana Velaryon's daughters the ability to inherit and tame her mother's dragon.
She hadn't told him that, but if she were Leana's daughters, she'd be furious too. But she knew that the past could not be changed, that her husband had had a difficult childhood, and that the loss of an eye only plunged him further into the darkness. She knew he needed her endless and unquestioning support and devotion.
Veamond Velaryon and Luke and his family came to Red Keep to present their case to the king. Lady Stark was able to see Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne for the first time in her life. After Lord Veamond's statement, she began to present her son's case on his behalf. Y/N thought she was a beautiful woman, her confidence and way of speaking impressed her.
She stared in shock and clutched her pregnant belly as Veamond shouted that her children were bastards and she was a whore. She felt everyone froze, her heart pounding like crazy. She screamed as she suddenly saw Veamon's head hit the ground and the rest of his body hit the floor. Daemon Targaryen was standing over him, a pleased expression on his face.
"He can keep his tongue."
Aemond watched this with a smile and involuntary appreciation for his uncle, which was why he didn't see his wife cringe in pain at first, unable to utter a sound. He looked at her in horror as she fell to the floor, all eyes suddenly turned in her direction. He knelt beside her, touching her cheek, terrified, she was panting heavily, feeling a wave of water run down between her thighs.
"Beloved wife, what's happened?" He asked, seeing her pale face, his heart pounding like crazy.
"Aemond, the baby is coming out."
***
Aemond immediately carried his wife to her chamber. His mother and Helaena told him to leave. To his surprise, as he left, pale and terrified, princess Rhaenyra, Beala, and Rhaena entered, closing the door behind them.
Aemond went to the window, leaning against the stone parapet and lowering his head. He heard his wife's muffled groans of pain and pressed his lips together, feeling everything tighten within him. Daemon walked over to him, seeing what he was going through, and looked down at him.
"Women are much stronger than men, nephew."
Meanwhile, inside, Beala and Helaena helped Lady Stark strip down to her nightgown. She felt very strong contractions and once in a while moaned in pain, breathing rapidly. She felt her heart pounding, she was afraid and trembling all over. Alicent had the pillows raised high on her bed for her. Rhaenyra walked over to her and put her arm around her.
"Do not be afraid. Walk a little. It'll speed things up. Breathe deeply." She said, circling the room with her, breathing with her, reassuring her. Y/N thought she needed any motherly care and support and immediately felt her hand tighten around her waist.
"We'll get through this together, easy." Said the princess, her voice firm and composed, just what she needed now, when she was all panicked. Alicent watched this scene with tenderness, herself full of emotions.
Lady Stark screamed loudly in surprise, feeling the contraction stronger than before, she sobbed softly, but felt that the baby did not move.
"Tell me if you want to lie down. Breathe, breathe." Rhaenrya spoke, holding her hand tightly, his arm still around hers. Lady Stark fell to her knees and sobbed as another brutal spasm ran through her body. She had never felt such pain in her life before, she knew it was close.
"Lie down, come on." Rhaenyra said, helping her up. Y/N lay down breathing heavily, Rhaenyra adjusted the pillows behind her back so she could be in a semi-sitting position. The midwife spread her legs apart to see what was going on.
"Start pushing, my Lady, when I tell you." She said looking at her. "Now, my Lady! Push!”
Lady Stark squeezed her eyes shut and cried out with the effort, trying with all her might to dislodge the child. She threw her head back, Rhaenyra brushed her hair away from her sweaty face, squeezing her hand tightly.
"Very well, sweet girl, you're doing great." She said in a reassuring, firm voice that calmed her.
She felt her whole thighs tremble with fear, tears of great exertion flowed down her cheeks, she was afraid she was going to die, she wanted her mother to be with her. She gripped her hand tighter and screamed loudly as the midwife ordered her to push again. She felt the baby inside her move.
She threw back her head, the princess told her to breathe deeply with her whole chest, she showed her how to do it, and they breathed together. Helaena took a bowl of cold water, put a cloth inside and then placed it on her forehead, giving her a sudden feeling of temporary relief.
"You're doing great, my Lady, you'll be fine, just a little longer." She said reassuringly, Beala sat next to her and fanned her with a fan to keep her cool on this hot day.
"Push, my Lady, now!" Said the midwife. Lady Stark pursed her lips, gathering herself and began to push hard, a loud moan of despair escaped her lips. She threw her head back on the pillow and shook her head.
"I don't have the strength, he doesn't want to leave." She sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut, tears flowing from her eyes and she couldn't see anything anymore. Rhaenyra kissed her hand and squeezed it tightly.
"Just a little longer, hold on, you'll be fine." She said it with conviction and emphasis, as if she was trying to convince herself that it was true.
"My Lady, push!" Said the midwife. Lady Stark clenched her fists with the last of her strength and screamed loudly, pushing with all her might, but again she felt nothing. She sobbed loudly, panicking, unable to calm down.
"Aemond!" She screamed loudly and wept, Rheanyra combed her hair, trying to calm her down. She suddenly heard the door open.
She saw her terrified husband standing in the doorway, all pale, his eye red as if he were crying too. He just stared for a moment, frightened by the sight that had been haunting him for months. He approached her from the other side of the bed and knelt beside her, taking her sweaty hand, which he began to kiss.
"Don't leave me." He whispered helplessly, his voice breaking. The sight made her, when the midwife told her to push again, squeeze her eyes shut and do it with all her might, screaming loudly and sobbing.
She thought that she would not give the gods satisfaction, that she would not give herself to the Stranger, that she would survive. She pushed again and again, feeling like she was making the most titanic effort of her life. Aemond stared at her in horror mixed with admiration, his face glued to her clenched hand.
"My Lady, I can see the head, don't stop! Now! Push!” Lady Stark screamed loudly and lingeringly, sobbing in pain, feeling her baby literally tearing her flesh as it came out of her, and then she was relieved when something suddenly slipped out of her.
She heard soft whimpers and cries. She laughed in disbelief, panting and sobbing at the same time as she saw her baby, all red with blood, squirm in the midwife's arms.
"Congratulations, my lady. You gave birth to a healthy prince."
_____
If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~
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#aemond x oc#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#prince aemond#aemond x fem!reader#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#house of the dragon aemond#aemond smut#aemond the kinslayer#aemond fanfic#aemond fandom#aemond fluff#aemond x reader#aemond x original female character#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fluff#hotd x reader
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Hello!!! Can I request headcanons the adult trio (Hisoka, Chrollo, and Illumi separate) with a s/o who flinches because she thinks she’s about to get hit? Basically, their s/o thought the boys were going to hurt them, and they flinch and run away. What are the boy’s reaction, and how would they calm and reassure their s/o?
Hi, thank you for the ask! This might have some implications of more sensitive topics, so I'll leave this under a cut
Hisoka, Illumi, Chrollo with an s/o that was frightened by them
Hisoka
Though he lives for the thrill of fighting, he does like having someone to hold close. He will often pull pranks on his s/o as well since he tends to be a bit of a trickster. However, one of those tricks didn't go very well when you thought he was about to punch you
You ran off, but he did catch up to you pretty quickly. He caught sight of your frightened expression earlier too. While on most occasions he loves seeing fear and lives for it, he got worried about you. You never showed any form of fear around him, so this was a first
After stopping you, he asks if you were scared. You would have to explain your situation and let him know what you felt. He might not apologize outwardly, but he does give you a hug (he was always more of an actions-speak-louder-than-words person). "Why would I try to hurt you?" he might ask
He's horrible at calming people down btw (since all he does is make them panic more). He might not know what to do and instead just leave you to calm down by yourself for a little while. If you need him to just hold you for a bit, he'll do that, though there may be little to no words exchanged. He just tries his best to see what works for you and what makes you comfortable
Hisoka isn't the kindest person in hxh, but with an s/o that might be a bit different. He doesn't like seeing you upset around him and would definitely feel better
Illumi
Similar to Hisoka, he has no idea how to help someone if they are afraid or need to calm down. He's only learned how to shut people up using force after all, so his approach at first to calm you down might do the opposite of his intentions. You most likely ran off when you thought he was about to throw a needle in your direction when in reality there was a target behind you
Either way, he feels really bad about it, but has no idea why. His emotions aren't really grounded, so he knows he did something bad but isn't sure how to approach it. He does catch up to you extremely quickly though, but he demands an explanation right after.
Through tears, you might have to explain how you thought you were about to get killed. You were aware of your boyfriend being an assassin, so you do have all the right to flinch and flee, but Illumi might have to take a few seconds to understand.
"I wouldn't kill you though, you know you're important to me," his words are a bit dry, but you understand what he's trying to say. He can't hurt you because he cares too much about you, but the way he expresses it doesn't always translate well. If you need some time for yourself, he'll respect that but keep a watch on you from afar. He's horrible at hugging or any form of physical affection, so if you want a hug from him it might feel more like a stiff pat on your shoulder
Overall, he's a bit detached when trying to calm you down, but he does try his best to let you know you're safe with him. He'll never repeat that mistake ever again either.
Chrollo
Probably the best at approaching this situation out of the trio. He's extremely careful around you, but this one time he wasn't and you thought he was about to stab you with a knife. In reality, he was trying to move the knife away and leave the room but ran a bit too quickly in your direction.
He realizes his mistake when he sees you flinch and before you can run off he already has your hand in his and him asking if you are alright. He'll place the knife away from you and pull you closer, asking if you were frightened.
You'll be coerced into telling him how you felt all while he's holding you. He's learned mainly from books how to deal with situations like this, but if you just need some time for yourself he'll understand that as well. He tends to observe people really well, so he's really good at calming you down.
"I would never hurt you, I'm sorry I frightened you there," whether or not that apology is really genuine or not is depending on how much you trust his words. Do know however that he has no intention to hurt you ever while you guys are together.
Chrollo is probably the only one that has no difficulty calming you down or understanding what you felt. He'll keep this moment in his mind so in the future you don't get scared by him again.
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hxh x reader#hxh headcanons#hxh imagines#hxh scenarios#hxh adult trio#hisoka#hisoka x reader#illumi#illumi x reader#chrollo#chrollo x reader#anon ask
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I just wanna make a post because I’ve gotten tons of worried asks about my absence and wishing I’m okay and everything (and I will answer them I promise, I do really appreciate y’all checking in on me). but this is going to be a LONG post so if you’re actually gonna read it, strap in babes.
anyways, my life has virtually become a dystopian hell and I’m not kidding you. I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I feel like I’m under house arrest because I’m just not allowed to do fucking anything anymore. I pretty much cannot leave my house, not even to get groceries. I cannot ask my roommate to pick up anything for me on her way home from work because she bitches about it and makes some excuse not to even if it’s something I desperately need. I haven’t had a single human interaction with ANYONE even my former best friend/roommate since the end of January until this week when I just fucking lost it and vented to my aunt and had her get me a dispensary order because I can’t leave my house to get one myself anymore and she came to hang out and spend some time with me and talk about everything for a couple hours. and that’s the bare bones of what’s going on. there’s so much fucking more piled to it but I’ll just give you the gist of it. I literally told my therapist that if I didn’t get the fuck out of here soon, I will probably slit my wrists and bleed out in the bathtub. like if I cannot run away and escape all this shit, I will be leaving this house in a body bag because I honestly just do not know how much more of this shit I can take.
I have been so unbelievably stressed. I have picked every tiny cut, scratch, ingrown hair, pimple, everything that could be picked open, into huge gaping wounds all over my legs and specifically, I had two tiny cat scratches on my stomach from one of my cats kneading on me and not being too gentle with her claws, and i picked those TINY cuts into gaping wounds bigger than the size of dollar coins. two of them. right next to each other. they were so bad that I thought they were legitimately going to get infected and cause me problems. but they’re finally healing and starting to scar because I HAD to bandage them. like if I did not bandage them and change the bandage twice a day, they would have become infected and been a huge problem. that’s how bad those two specifically were.
not only this, but I have also PICKED A FUCKING BALD SPOT ON MY SCALP near my widow’s peak, but thankfully it’s on the side my hair flops over from so it’s covered. but it’s still there and it makes me horribly insecure and I don’t know if it’s like a scab that’ll eventually fall off and something will grow back from it or if it’s a scar and I’ll have this bald spot forever to be insecure of and self conscious of all the time. literally only time will give me the answer to that. but I am fucking 26 years old and have picked myself to PIECES and BALD SPOTS due to stress. I am literally falling the fuck apart.
and not only that, but I was just informed that I need to be conscious and aware of the fact that I may have fucking lupus because two of my dad’s sisters have it (one confirmed diagnosis and the other a suspicion but that’s enough of a reason for me to be worried about it) and I’m too terrified to get tested or whatever to start the process of getting that diagnosis. like the one thing I’ve always been so fucking afraid of is having an autoimmune disease and my fear of that may have fucking manifested one fucking for me and I’m really struggling with the potential that I may have to deal with that, along with my other health issues and mental health issues and shit.
I just. I have been going through a REALLY rough fucking time. and I am sorry, I am so sorry for the lack of posts or explanations or not answering anyone’s asks or messages aside from the two people I talk to daily because I just mentally cannot handle conversations through all this shit, and for making anyone genuinely concerned about me because of my absence and shit. I wish I could say you shouldn’t worry, but honestly, I’m incredibly worried about myself and that reason alone should scare anyone that knows me because I’m NEVER worried about myself. I’m sorry. I wish I could say I’m okay and I’m thriving and my lack of presence on here was a GOOD thing because I’m doing well and not thinking about social media, but it’s not. it’s a very bad thing. I don’t leave my bed every day unless it’s to take care of my cats. I can’t remember the last day I actually ate a meal or even a snack. the only hydration I get is like the 3 sips of whatever I use to take my meds every morning and night. I have no drive to create content so my income has dropped SO dramatically that I am barely scraping by to pay my bills. I haven’t gamed. I haven’t caught up on any of the shows I was excited for and watching before all this. I haven’t done laundry in god only knows how long and I’m literally running out of clean clothes to wear. I literally only brush my hair before I get on FaceTime with a friend or my boyfriend, otherwise it’s a knotted mess. I’ve showered to clean my body because I feel disgusting being dirty but I have not washed my hair since I had these extensions installed. I do not have the energy to wash this much fucking hair right now. and do you know when these were installed? February 12th. I have not washed my fucking hair in over a month and I feel so fucking repulsive because of it. my hair is my pride and joy. I have such expensive quality products for it. I take care of it. I love my hair. and I cannot even find the energy to wash it when I’m already in the shower just to wash my body/face because I just am so depressed that I can’t even find the energy to do it WHILE ALREADY IN THE SHOWER. I usually go 7-10 days without washing my hair to prolong the life of my extensions and my hair dye and shit because my hair doesn’t get greasy quickly or dry so I can push it that long and just do like body wash/skincare showers in between. but it’s been over a month. over a FUCKING MONTH. since I’ve been able to find the energy to just wash my fucking hair even when I’m already in the shower. do you know how pathetic that feels?
I’m sorry this was such a heavy post. for anyone that actually read through it, I’m sorry. I’ve been internalizing a lot of this shit and this isn’t even the icing on the fucking cake. this is the bare minimum of what I’m dealing with. it’s so much more convoluted and fucked up and abusive than I’m explaining on here and I’m sorry for venting about the things that I did. but I’ll leave it there. I won’t get into the rest.
if you read this far, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time with this long of a post just to get shit off my chest. I hope you’re having a really good day, or that your day gets better, your weekend goes well, and that you have some good karma headed your way. I wish you all the best. thank you for listening. I appreciate it. 🖤
#it’s really hard for me to make this post and admit that I am struggling so fucking bad so please be kind and considerate about all this#because if someone makes a rude remark or sends a rude ask about it I’m blocking and deleting it#I’m not even going to entertain someone trying to make me feel worse than I already feel#because I didn’t even KNOW I could feel this bad in my fucking life#so please just be kind and comfort me or just don’t say anything. please. for my sake.
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Tarot Project - N°33
This is yet another tarot card- strangely, the first I drew for the MCU. Obviously, it was motivated by the ending of the last show I saw, which did not left me indifferent.
(it broke me and I'll never be the same again)
So here is Loki, burdened with glorious purposes, as The Magician.
(If you haven't see the season yet and are avoiding spoilers, don't look for the explanation under the cut!)
For starters, the Magician is said to be the conduit that converts energy into matter. He represents worldly experience and knowledge ; he has seen it all, experience it all, and acts at the gateway between spiritual and material realms- just like would be a God trapped in the roots of Yggdrasil, all seeing, all creating. He is the root of the whole tarot- having access to the symbols of each suits : Wands, Swords, Cups, Pentacles. The Magician has unlimited potential, is manifestation at its best : who else to embody that, than the God of Stories, the most powerful being in the universe? Timely was right- truly a magician.
But that's not all. Let's start with the meaning of the card, upright.
As the master manifestor, the Magician brings you -you, person living in any timelines ever- the ressources and energy you need to make your own choice. He's giving you a chance. Like him, you might be facing changes, new ideas that challenge who you were: it's now time to act on them. The skills (maybe time magic ?) and knowledges (perhaps your brand new sciency PhD) you have gathered along your life path have led you where you are now. You must have a clear vision of the goal you are trying to achieve. It is not enough to be motivated by ego, money, status or fame, by a throne. When you are clear about your "what", your "why"... your "who"... you will be able to take actions. You are powerful, you are a creative being: you can reach, now, your highest potential. Focus on the ONE thing that will truly motivate you. Be active. Be a tree.
Reversed, the card can indicate that are still uncertain. You know that you have to take action, but are uncertain of the course it must take. You are afraid of what you might loose, what path you need to choose; be patient, be attentive- the solution will manifest itself in time, when you'll be ready to accept it. If you are already acting on your goal, the Magician Reversed can be a sign that you are struggling to see progress and success (perhaps because of some annoying Avengers who refuse to accept your perfectly reasonnable demands ; perhaps you can't make yourself kill that one person to save the rest.) Maybe you are not clear on your desired outcome; maybe your effort are misdirected, unfocused. You may be lacking conviction. Perhaps the goal you're going after is not the one you actually need, or even want. Are you sure you want that throne ? Are you aware of the price coming with any glorious purpose ?
At its worst, the Magician Reversed signifies manipulation and trickery. You may be masterful at manifesting, but you are lost, and you may only do it for personal gain and at the expense of others. Does it feels off? Maybe. It might means you were made to work for the highest good, before you find yourself lost. Remember your "why", remember your "who". You have many skills, talents, capabilities, but your real potential is not being maximized. You have to ask yourself- what needs to change for you to reach your full potential? What do you crave the most? You can't lie to yourself: you have to be honest, as painful as it might be. You have to be ready to do what it takes to reach your most important goal.
If, in the end, it matters most to see your friends having a shot at life, at happiness, than it matters to not be alone- then, you know what you have to do.
With that, I conclude my explanation. Only one more card, and I'll be done with the Major Arcana!
(Just like Marvel is done with Loki a h)
I hope you liked it. You, yes, you who is still reading! Thank you for that.
#loki#loki fanart#marvel loki#loki season 2#loki s2 ep6#loki spoilers#loki series#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#god of stories#loki god of stories#loki ending#tom hiddleston#yggdrasil#tarot project#tarot card#the magician#loki season 2 spoilers
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I have some thoughts about episode 240 and I'd like to share them all with you here.
[Long post under cut]
I've been thinking mainly about the VHS tapes, and the idea of them being this kind of legacy that one has to hold on to, before giving them up and letting them become a memory.
And with that, I'm thinking about the literal physical act of cutting the cord after swiftly announcing who you are. Cutting the cord is an idiom for becoming independent. In broadcasting (TV or otherwise) it's dropping a channel you no longer want to view.
Kevin announcing to the town who he was, and then subsequently cutting out the broadcast in one fell swoop not only declares his independence, but also takes control right back. To cut the cord implies, to me, no longer being defined by that of what one has been defined by for eons.
An ancient radio host.
A man who has wandered the desert for centuries.
Given everything we know about Cecil and Kevin's relationship, and the animosity, and then perhaps vague understanding later on, it is no wonder that Cecil was the one to make the boy confront who he is. So much has happened to Cecil since he last saw Kevin. Angels are real. He's a father. His town has been explained away and brought back to life. Cecil doesn't give him a choice to turn his head away.
Cecil, who so rarely has the opportunity or ability to truly confront who his is, seeing a young boy in front of him asking the same questions, looking in dire need of an explanation, and instead of telling him, Cecil makes him confront it. Cecil's job isn't to explain, it's to observe, report and offer perspective.
So I'm thinking about Cecil as a father, who was once himself a child abandoned by his mother, giving this child, despite who it clearly is, the chance to come into his own, even if its terrifying. And I wouldn't even be bringing this up if it were not for the beginning bit at the episode about Tamika worrying about the knife the boy was holding. Cecil's calm, "Well, is he doing anything with the knife? Has he hurt anyone with the knife?" is so..... parental in a way that Tamika hasn't had the time to really cultivate herself yet.
Carlos seemingly, once again, was aware of something before everybody else and chose to stay silent. Some things some people are meant to discover on their own, and perhaps Carlos knew this, but I also think Carlos was once again afraid. Cecil has had eons to become comfortable with not understanding the truth, where Carlos has only had about two decades (or one, depending on how you want to view it) to become accustomed to it.
The beauty of this episode is that I feel like it is about the anxieties of being a parent. And it did it so beautifully without ever directly saying it. Think about it.
You have Tamika unsure but trusting her instincts, you have Carlos encouraging curiosity despite what it may entail, and Cecil, letting the boy define himself despite his fear.
In a very dramatic, reversed horror story trope, Cecil allowed Kevin to define himself, despite what that's going to entail. He doesn't know if it's going to be anything good, but that's the risk you take as a parent. I'm not saying that Cecil is Kevin's parent here, just to be clear, I'm saying symbolically speaking, sometimes we have to let people make their own choices and be their own people, and sometimes they end up doing bad things or making bad choices and we have to live with that. Sometimes it's not our place to step in. Sometimes we are just an observer, it's not our job to change the story, but to simply let it unfold.
That's the job and the anxiety of being a parent, of a person, of a friend, of a reporter.
The beauty of this episode is that it's a rebirth. And we've been given hints over the last handful of episodes. The murals, the children worshipping, the snake god (Cecil's whole bit about being swallowed by a snake in episode freaking 1) of Carlos un-explaining the town, the car crash on Buellton Avenue, of Lauren even saying (episode 237) "Because to ignore our past is to destroy our future. I hope you don't have anything in your past that you have not atoned for, Kevin." etc. All of these themes have been present.
So, to go back to the tapes and of legacy, and how legacy can be traded off for the relief of memory. These two people, once solely defined as their position at their station, have diverged.
The last time Cecil and Kevin were alone in a studio together (physically, and if memory serves) Cecil was taking back his station from Kevin. In episode 48 Cecil even says, as a one off, "Don't run with knives". Since then, Cecil has had the opportunity to really create roots elsewhere, to set aside a legacy and create memories, all we have heard of Kevin (recently that is) is him being subsumed by Lauren who, might I add, kept making him call her 'Mother'.
And now, here we have Kevin, cutting the cord, cutting out the broadcast, not as a double, not as a replacement, not as his past or his future, but as Kevin.
#its kevins era we're just living in it#sorry for typos im not rereading this again#wtnv#welcome to night vale#wtnv 240
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rules for submission:
no little kid shows (think bluey or sofia the first)
characters must have a canon age over 18 or in some way implied that they are a grown adult (18 year olds still in high school will be excluded)
please do not resubmit the same character, queue posts only 4 times a day, so it may take a bit to see your submission
see submission form here (currently closed) please don't send any more submissions in the ask box!
this blog was inspired by wouldyoudatethem
faq under cut
how long should my submission reasoning be?
keep your reasoning to a few sentences max, no essays or mile-long explanations, if you wanna add these after the poll has posted, then be my guest
can you add a "i'm not attracted to this gender/not interested/etc." button?
currently do not plan on adding it, i find it sort of unnecessary and if you feel that way, not voting or choosing pass is perfectly acceptable
can i submit x character?
i'd prefer you'd either just submit it anonymously or if you feel like it might be rejected, don't submit them at all, having to go through and approve different characters is tiring
i will sometimes answer asks about broad categories of characters, please check the #answered tag before sending one of these types of asks
why hasn't my submission been posted?
there a lot of submissions yet to go through and the queue only posts a few times a day, it may take a while to see your character. they may also have been rejected, i would prefer to not get asks about this
ugh why did x character lose? all you people are [insert insult here]!
be normal about people passing your favorite character, it doesn't matter
why is the icon mario?
because we're friends move on
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Help! My Girlfriend Didn't Appreciate The Awesome Present I Gave her
Dear Prudence, Slate, 9 January 2023:
Dear Prudence,
My girlfriend thinks I’m trying to undermine her. How do I prove to her I’m not? My girlfriend “Katie” (33F) and I (30M) have been dating for three months, and so far it had been going very well. I even thought we could become very serious. However, something has changed, and I’m worried that she’s getting cold feet.
This all started a few days ago, when my parents dropped by my place to chat. Katie was in the kitchen, making the two of us dinner. My parents and Katie have met a couple of times before, and they seem to get along. Additionally, Katie’s normally very calm and easygoing. However, when my mom walked into the kitchen to help out, Katie seemed to become irritated. She said that she “prefers to cook alone,” and when my mom grabbed a knife and some carrots and started to chop them up for her, Katie asked her not to cut them because they have to be cut “a certain way.” Katie told my mom that she didn’t want help and demanded that she go back into the living room area.
I’d never seen Katie this upset, and I wasn’t happy with how she treated my mom. When my mom left the kitchen, I hugged her and said, “Sorry about that.” I asked Katie what was going on and she said nothing, but at the time, I was alarmed and suspicious. Later that evening, I had to get some groceries, and while I was at the supermarket, I decided to pick up some Midol as a nice gesture. I didn’t know if Katie was on her period, but knowing that she isn’t normally this irritable, it seemed possible to me and if she was, she might appreciate the gift. When I got back, Katie was watching the World Cup, and I silently placed the Midol on top of her bag. Katie gave me a weird look and asked why I had bought her Midol, and I said it was because of how she had acted with my mother earlier.
Katie did not like this explanation. She said she was annoyed because she didn’t want someone interfering with her cooking, not because she was on her period. She said it made her think that I don’t take her feelings seriously and am trying to “undermine the legitimacy of her emotions.” I explained that this wasn’t true, but I don’t know if she believed me. I think the damage might have been done. How can I salvage the relationship and win back Katie’s trust? — Midol Mishap
Dear Midol Mishap,
Does Katie usually have a problem with self-soothing, or does it mostly happen during meals where people enter her space uninvited and intentionally disregard her stated preferences when she tends to act out like this? Does bedtime/bathtime usually go okay? Can you drop her off at the office without tears and a tantrum? Figuring out the answer to this question will reveal the extent to which this relationship can be salvaged, but I think you're in for an uphill battle if silently leaving a box of bitch pills on a woman's purse doesn't have her running back into your arms with relief and appreciation for the thoughtful care you showed her while she was being a real cunt.
Usually women appreciate being told that their emotions are wrong, and welcome thoughtful explanations from men about how the things they have felt and experienced are incorrect due to being incongruent with a man's feelings and experiences. But some women, and it sounds like Katie might be one of them, lack the self-awareness necessary to recognize that the things they believe they think they interpret as being insulting, disrespectful, and patronizing are not that way because some dude somewhere said so.
It might be worth opening up a dialogue with your mother about how to handle Katie; I don't mean to suggest that all women are the same (that would be sexist, yikes!) but you have both experienced what it is like to be under the thumb of someone as cruel and controlling as Katie, and you may be able to offer each other some comfort while you figure out how to get the woman you've been fucking for three months back on the right path, in terms of her behavior and emotional regulation. Meds are a great start — Midol is an absolute miracle drug for shutting down an ungrateful cow — but you can't just crush it up over Katie's ice cream every night.
The right solution is going to necessarily involve some effort on Katie's part to tell you only what you want to hear and agree with everything you say, and she might just not be mature enough to do that kind of hard internal work right now. A lot of people wouldn't — they'd say they have a right to assert boundaries, be taken seriously as full human beings, and not have their legitimate concerns belittled as mere hormonal hysterics of an unstable female — but it's possible Katie is capable of real change. The next time she has one of her little episodes, try using a little babydoll to coax Katie into seeing what a silly little monkey she's being when she rejects the precious opportunity to bond with your sweet mama by letting her do whatever she wants no matter what. Katie could speak directly to the doll about how she believes she thinks feels until she's ready to express the emotions you want her to have.
If you try this, you might want to wait until after dinner, when the knives are put away, just in case. Best of luck, dear boy!
#midol#PMS#advice#bad advice#dear prudence#sexism#misogyny#parents#parenting#cooking#too many cooks in the kitchen#too many cooks#just so many cooks
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tell us about the royals au!!! (im on my knees. please.)
Ohhhhh my friend you have started me on a RANT I hope you’re ready!!!
I don’t know that I’ll ever actually write it so I’m not too worried about spoilers, and the wonderful people in my dms (which are still open btw) bouncing ideas with me are always going to come up with great ideas so I’m putting WIP in big red letters, things are subject to change! But for now, some ideas. Most of what I have will be under the cut, but if you want to know more about a specific part/have any questions please I’d love to chat :D will link to the art/posts I have so far!
(In this au I’ve been referring to Neil as Nathaniel at first and then Abram (hello names as a plot device), and everyone else right now is some version of their name)
Kevin and Nathaniel were raised at Evermore castle, Kevin to be in direct competition to Riko/see which of them might claim the throne (not thought out yet), and Nathaniel as the Moriyama’s attack dog, born and raised to take his father’s place as such. The two never met in person, but Nathaniel knows and recognizes Day because of course he does, and Day knows the name Wesninski means a very, very dangerous person. Essentially the top assassin on the continent.
But as we do, Day decides he can’t/won’t handle the treatment anymore, whatever the last straw may be, and runs off to Palmetto in a kind of desperate chase of the stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. He knew she loved that kingdom. Somehow he finds Wymack - the twin’s royal advisor - or Wymack finds him, and once Wymack realizes who this kid is and has reason to believe he’s not here on Evermore business, he puts Day’s incredible talent and training as a tactician/commander to work as his pupil.
Meanwhile Nathaniel is still at Evermore, mistreated and learning from his own failures and mistakes until he’s nearly as good as his father at the family business.
I don’t know how long Nathaniel plans it, but he either plays the part for long enough or his skill is so undeniable that when the Moriyamas have plans for the Palmetto Kingdom, they send him and one other accomplished fighter to kill the king. Nathaniel goes quietly and decides he’s not coming back if he can help it.
So instead of killing the young king, Nathaniel’s panic has him turn on his partner at the very last second, stopping them just before they can get to the king. He takes them somewhere far away and does what he does best, leaving no one to report back to the Moriyamas. From then on it’s a waiting game to see how long the family will wait before they send someone after him.
Day’s followed them, and Nathaniel turns around from the body and sees this man he hasn’t seen in years, alive and safe away from Evermore. It’s as elating as it is crushing - because Day heard his partner call him by name, and there is no way Day will ever let a Wesninski walk away alive. Not if he knows what’s good for all of them.
Except Day doesn’t kill him, even when Nathaniel asks him to. (Better Day than Riko, Nathaniel knew that even when they were all stuck at Evermore). Instead, he takes Nathaniel back to the twins/Wymack, gives him a little bread, and they sit until he can pry out an explanation. (See the comic of this first meeting here.)
Day and Nathaniel spend most of their time together because Day refuses to let Nathaniel out of his or Wymack’s sight until he proves not a threat to the royal family, which proves an issue because between Andrew’s rotation of personal guards (he never gets along with them well enough that they stay/aren’t fired) Day is Andrew’s guard, which sometimes means Nathaniel is stuck a lot closer than Day would like. But after a long, long time, Day and Wymack decide Nathaniel was serious about the whole “runaway” thing and isn’t playing spy (maybe there’s some dramatic event/Nathaniel protecting a twin that convinces them or maybe it’s just a lot of little things over time). Andrew, after a rough spat with the latest guard, is again in need of a new one. Finally Day just asks “is there ANYONE you could possibly pretend to get along with that can do the job” and Andrew knows Nathaniel is dangerous he just doesn’t know exactly how or why (but oh he is curious) so maybe he just straight up says. “Wesninski.” And Day has to go “…. Fine.”
So boom. They knew each other superficially before, but now Andrew and Nathaniel are spending most of their time together and miraculously - no arguments. No spats. Day thanks the gods there’s no physical altercations (that’s probably what got the last guard fired so quick). Nathaniel is just a mystery with shady ability to tell the truth and Andrew can’t help his curiosity. Good old fashioned andreil :D
From here the timeline becomes essentially nonexistent, I have no idea when these things happen in relation to each other but so far they’re all things I like and want to include!
1) there’s plenty of games and competitions at Palmetto, we love a good tussle, and Nathaniel usually does quite well - he’s not good at playing fair, but his underhanded methods are not technically illegal and usually he can use his preferred weapon - dagger rather than sword. He does well except for the one time an opponent accidentally says/does something that was constantly said or done to Nathaniel while “training” at Evermore, and he comes back to Andrew and the tent he watched from in the beginning of a panic attack. Andrew doesn’t know anything about Nathaniel’s past at this point, but he knows a panic attack when he sees one. In trying to talk him through it, Andrew realizes that yes Nathaniel is scared of being hurt, but he’s more afraid of hurting others. Nathaniel won’t let Andrew call him by name, he flinches every time Andrew says it. After, Andrew asks what he should call him instead, and Nathaniel finally asks to be called Abram.
2) Balls! Masquerades! Abram doesn’t have many outfits, he wears the regular issued uniform to every event. Andrew will not stand for this. Abram always wears clothes that cover him fully, which is fine, Andrew can work with that. He’s still seen Abram in a tight shirt or two. So he commissions one of the most knowledgeable people in the court (we’re thinking it might be Allison, she’s a noble but she’s great with textiles/embroidery/etc) and gets Abram a new outfit. It still covers him, its still protective material, but it looks better. (Find Abram in a corset here). Andrew handles it totally normal and rational in his head when he sees Abram actually wearing it of course.
3) Day probably assumes for a little while that Andrew and Abram have got a more or less normal guard/charge relationship, even thinking it’s slightly antagonistic considering this is Andrew we’re talking about. (This doesn’t fit the timeline, but here’s a mini comic of one of Day’s misunderstandings hehe)
4) king Aaron! He became king at 18/20/whatever age we decide this universe deems old enough because he is in fact the elder twin here. I imagine their parents have both been dead and gone for at least a few years at this point. Dan is Aaron’s guard and she and Abram hit it off great as coworkers and friends. More on the uncertainty of the twins backstory later. (Drawings of Aaron and his queen Katelyn here!)
5) the angst. The Moriyamas should have heard from the Wesninski boy months ago - something somewhere went wrong. So, naturally, they go to collect their property. If they get away with it, we can imagine how it goes. What I don’t know is if the twins, Day, and Wymack know for sure he was kidnapped or if they have a little nagging in the back of their head that wonders if he’s only run away from the castle or if he’s run back to Evermore with everything he’s learned.
When he’s recovered, Day doesn’t let Andrew too close too often for a while. If Abram forgets where is for even a second too long - waking up from a nightmare, having a flashback - it’s long enough for it to be fatal to whoever might get too close to Abram. It’s already almost proved fatal for Andrew, after Abram played normal so well that Andrew let it slip - he forgot Abram was taken back to Evermore for them to finish making him into a thoughtless weapon, and they’d nearly succeed. He wakes Abram too quickly and ends up extremely lucky Abram recognizes both his voice and the way Andrew didn’t call him ‘Nathaniel’ or ‘Wesninski’. There’s really a huge amount to possibly be covered about this point so I won’t go into detail here - but if you like hurt/comfort you know where to find me 👀
6) the biggest thing we haven’t figured out is Andrew. Either he was kidnapped at a young age and only recovered in his teens, or the elder King Minyard didn’t much care for his second son. Though I’ve always liked the idea of Mr. Minyard being a good man who died shortly before the twins’ birth and their mother just couldn’t handle the grief or knowing that the twins look like him. Anyway a lot of the twins’ issues after both of their parents are dead are the advisors or other people around them that try to take advantage of their youth and inexperience for their own gain, without realizing that both Aaron and Andrew have had to grow up much too fast, each for their own reasons. They can usually see right past the tricks. It’s why they both trust Wymack so much - he’s one of the few adults that are truly there to help them, and not make decisions for them.
Im sure there’s more I missed, but this is long enough as it is lol. People have asked about the Trojans/Jean in this au, and I’d love to include them! My brain’s instinctive response is that Jeremy is some sort of high end noble/royal of a faraway kingdom, and Jean (always last to leave the nest, im so sorry baby) somehow gets over there, but I don’t have an idea of his or anyone else’s roles yet. Renee could even still have a hand in him getting there if we really want.
So I’m still writing snippets and drawing over here lol but i promise I don’t bite if you want to talk :D
#dear. lord.#this got long#very handy that tumblr adds a read more button to mobile as soon as I learn the shortcut for it#whatever I’m uh#invested#that’s the word I’ll use#I TOLD YOU ROYAL AUS ARE MY ABSOLUTE BABY#my main ocs have a royal au too that’s equally as long winded#it’s insane what this universe can do to me 😭#uhhhh okay tags#my writing#royal au#asks#neil josten#andrew minyard#aaron minyard#kevin day#david wymack#aftg#all for the game#oh also lemonzestedtea#your tags bless me#thank you for the cool pillow 🙏
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Fireleaf (Part Twenty)
Hi! Here’s Part Twenty! @greeneyedivy and I love you all and hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Some violence.
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“I knew it. I fucking knew she couldn’t have received those letters.”
Eris watched Linden pace before him, arms of pure, corded muscle rippling as he clenched his hands at his sides. The male was…certainly a presence. Domineering.
“She’s been missing you.” Eris said. “She thought…”
“That I hadn’t bothered to write? I should have tried harder.”
The two males had spoken for barely an hour, Eris sharing details as promptly as he could, but the short conversation was confirmation enough that Linden adored Y/N just as fiercely as she did him. A conflict had shadowed his dark eyes, and he looked…regretful. Troubled. Eris didn’t know what to say to make it better. Or whether it was even possible to do so.
“It isn’t your fault that my father intercepted the letters.” He’d try, anyway. “None of us could have known what—”
“Except I did know.” Linden cut him off, whirling around to face him. “I did.”
Eris stared back at him, waiting for the explanation that lay behind the haunted expression. He’d told Linden everything there was to know, but there was a stark sense of…something else. It seemed to fill the room, rob it of air.
Or perhaps that was just the male’s exquisite build—
“I should have stepped in sooner. Warned Y/N when I had the chance.” Linden’s words snapped Eris out of his thoughts. He shook his head. “…her father came to me, about a year before she was informed of her engagement. It was when the family business had truly gone under, and Jesper was becoming desperate.” He stopped his pacing, slumping into a chair. “You see, my family is…not good. They’re scum of the earth criminals. They peddle things like Faebane knowing damn well what damage it can do. I got away from them because I wanted nothing to do with it. But Jesper found out somehow. He started asking me questions. How these substances were created, what kind of profit they made. I told him I had nothing to do with it, but he still continued to ask. I knew. I knew he was up to something. I should have told Y/N right away.”
Eris knew all too well how easy it was to fall into a churning cycle of should haves. But it was equally pointless. It couldn’t change a thing.
“Be that as it may.” He said quietly. “You couldn’t have known the true scope of the situation. None of us could. All we can do, now, is try to fix it.”
Linden studied him. There was something so endless and assessing in those dark, uptilted eyes. It left Eris feeling strangely…bare. He shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the heat that spread over the back of his neck.
“What do you need me to do?” Linden asked. “Whatever it is…for Y/N, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”
Eris didn’t doubt it for one second. “We’re working on how we’re going to take down my father. Tamlin is gathering information. Lucien is meeting with Y/N to tell her everything. All I know, right now, is that she’s going to need you. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
It was without hesitation that Linden rose from his seat, once again seeming to command the light and air in the room with his broad figure. He stood tall, meeting Eris’s gaze.
“Then we’d better get moving, lordling.”
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It was a rather intimate thing, Eris had surmised, travelling closely side-by-side, just his companion and the stretch of road for company. A way to truly get to know someone. Mere hours had built a rapport between him and Linden that was…new to him. Exciting.
They’d ridden for an entire day, and Eris was physically done-in. He wanted to be back on home turf, to bathe in an actual tub rather than in a stream. To eat proper food. It would be a bare-faced lie to say that he hadn’t been tempted to take the easy route and winnow himself and Linden back to the estate, but…whatever they were to face when they got there, he wanted every bit of his magic reserve intact. And if that meant another day or two of monotonous travel on horseback, then so be it.
They’d stopped for the night under a canopy of trees, hoping to catch at least a few hours of rough, restless sleep before they set off again. Eris had thought that he was well accustomed to nature, to camping amongst the elements, but Linden…there were no words for the refined ruggedness of both his appearance and personality. A male who could truly take anything in his stride.
Footsteps approaching from behind roused Eris slightly from his fatigue. He glimpsed up as Linden rounded the fire, returning from his wash in the lake. Eris’s heavy eyes became a tad more alert as they landed on the male. The glorious sculpt of muscles, the brown skin nicked and marked with scars, the rivulets of water running down his chest—
Godlike — the word bleated in Eris’s mind. Linden was godlike.
He couldn’t force his eyes away as the male grabbed a discarded shirt and used it to mop up the lingering water droplets that rolled down, down his pectorals and over his abs, further still until they dipped beneath the vee—
Linden’s dark eyes flicked up, and a smirk toyed with his lips. He knew the redhead was staring; had been doing a lot of staring, in fact. He may have deliberately stretched his arms over his head as he faced him properly.
“See something you like, Vanserra?”
Eris greatly resented the dusting of pink that he knew had appeared on his cheeks. He’d never been with a male — and that wasn’t for lack of fantasising about doing so. There was just…so much pressure on him to be the perfect male; the perfect future High Lord that would produce just-as-perfect heirs. It was that snag which had stopped him having the courage to explore such desires.
But here, alone with Linden under the expanse of towering trees…surely he could give in and flirt, at the very least. He was good at flirting.
So he sat back, resting on his hands, and shrugged. “What if I do?”
Linden’s head fell into a tilt, his braids following the movement. “Have you ever been with a male?”
“I haven’t.”
Full lips kicked up into a half-smirk. “Not your bag?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Silence snaked around them as the two of them stared at each other, challenge appearing to spark in both their gazes. There was a beat, a pause, and then Linden let out a deep chuckle that skittered over Eris’s skin like a chill.
“Interesting.” He commented simply.
Eris sat up, curiosity piquing. “Have you?” He asked. “Been with a male?”
“I have.” Linden confirmed. “I enjoy both males and females. But I have a preference for males.”
It was strange — the pinch of thrill that shot through Eris. To hear somebody talk about such matters so openly, so proudly — to talk about it without glancing over their shoulder every few seconds. It made him feel…dangerous. Alive.
Perhaps that was how he found the courage to press, “what do you prefer about them?”
Linden glanced up at him through dark lashes, his body going still. And for a moment, Eris wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. He wanted to kick himself, to take it back—
But then Linden moved. Slowly. Traipsed round to the side of the fire on which Eris sat. Took a seat in front of him.
He smelled like a heady mix of earth and woodsmoke and moss. The scent hit Eris in a pleasant wave, and he tried not to inhale too sharply at what that, alone, did to him. Tried not to stare too closely at the bare, muscled chest that was now mere inches from his touch.
“Do you really want to know?” Linden asked gruffly. The grit in his voice was like an awakening for Eris.
Eris swallowed. Sat up straighter. “Sure. Why not?”
Linden’s lips twitched, and Eris tracked the movement, wondering what they would feel like against his. He had a full mouth, lips generous and divine-looking. He had to be an excellent kisser.
“Okay.” The general hummed, edging slightly closer. “I like the responses I can elicit just from blowing on a male’s cock. They try to maintain control, try to rein in their pleasure. But lick just the right spot and they’re begging for more. Begging to cum.”
“…oh.” Eris breathed. He was most definitely hard as a rock, straining painfully against his breeches. He tried to adjust himself, and Linden watched, his smirk widening.
“I find,” he said, his eyes fully on the tightening of Eris’s breeches, “that there’s an area that most males enjoy. Just below the head. Something about it is so sensitive that you apply a little pressure, and it feels good enough for them to forget their own name.”
Eris’s eyes almost rolled back into his head. Gods, that sounded good. He didn’t know how he’d gone all these years without giving in and exploring such things. He wanted them all, wanted them now. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t a future High Lord with expectation and propriety weighing him down. He wanted Linden’s lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him dry until even the leaves on the trees knew precisely what responses he could elicit.
And Linden knew that. Could see it on the male’s face. He smiled. “Would you like me to show you, lordling?”
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You could stay here forever.
Forever, in this gamekeeper’s cottage, you and Lucien hiding from the rest of the world. No Beron. No faebane. No forced nuptials to worry over. Just…love. Bliss.
It had hurt to see the first shafts of daylight pouring through the window. The night in Lucien’s arms had gone too fast. The hours of warmth, of security, were fleeting.
But he was your mate. And this would all be over soon. Soon, the first signs of a new day would be exciting.
Mate. The word had entered your mind as you’d sat up in bed. You’d smiled, touching your fingers to your lips, your chest. The cottage was empty and silent around you — Lucien had woken you briefly not long before, whispering that he was going to find some manner of breakfast for the two of you. He’d kissed your head and left you to lightly snooze a while longer, which you had, the ghost of his lips still on your skin.
You rose, now, with a lightness you hadn’t had this same time a day earlier. Mate, mate, mate. Lucien was your mate. Your love. Your soul.
You briefly readied yourself in the washroom, listening out for the click of the front door. Your lips tugged into a smile when the thud of footsteps carried through.
“Y/N?” The deep caress of Lucien’s voice followed it. Hearing it felt different, somehow, to all the times he’d spoken your name before. Like an oath. A promise.
You dried your freshly-washed face, hurrying through to greet him. It would be an effort not to launch yourself at him.
You stopped in the doorway, just…just taking in the sight of him, bathed in the morning sunlight. He was resplendent. Exquisite. His hair cascaded like waves of fire around his golden face. Your eyes snagged on the braid you’d given him, and you smiled.
“Good morning.”
He may not have even heard your greeting. He was staring at you, too, russet eyes full of unbridled emotion. He loosened a breath. “You are so godsdamn beautiful.”
Colour touched your cheeks. “I just woke up.”
“I know. I think this may just be my favourite version of you.”
You smiled, lowering your eyes to the floor as he slowly approached. He placed down two wicker baskets before he stopped in front you. His hand gently clasped your jaw, and he ran his thumb over your lips.
“Good morning.” He murmured. “My mate.”
Your breath released with a shudder, and there was no stopping you as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes and kissed him. Happily. Gladly. Freely.
His arms immediately snaked around you as he leaned in to the kiss. There was no happier place, no better world, than in his arms. That you’d tried to ignore your feelings for him, tried to force a future where he wasn’t yours and you weren’t his—
You shook those thoughts off, pulling back and smiling at him before you could start crying again. You wouldn’t waste precious moments on thinking of what had already passed.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Lucien chuckled softly, reaching for the baskets he’d set aside. “I walked to the nearest market. Got just about everything you could possibly want.”
Indeed, there were fruits and cheeses and meats and a loaf of freshly-baked, crusty bread. Your stomach rumbled at the sight, and you reached for the first basket–
“I got you something else, as well.” Lucien said, a soft smile on his lips.
You cocked your head. “Oh?”
“At the market, a couple of young girls had a stall. They were selling these little flower chains they’d made. Or rather, trying to sell them. I couldn’t resist buying one.”
You chuckled, watching as he produced a circlet of daisies from a small paper bag. He was grinning as he fastened it around your neck.
“There.” He hummed. “Fit for a queen.”
“It’s a shame you didn’t buy one for yourself.” You smiled. “You’d look so pretty with daisies around your neck and in your hair. I’m not sure I could keep my hands to myself.”
“Oh really?”
He leaned in, his scent enveloping you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his lips brush yours — before your stomach decided to announce your hunger again.
Lucien chuckled, pressing a quick peck to your lips before pulling away. He grabbed both baskets, carrying them over to the kitchenette. “We should really eat.”
And as much as you wanted to eat him in that moment, you were just as content to sit yourself at the small table and watch, basking in the domestic bliss of Lucien cutting up the fruits and cheese and slicing the bread and meats. He poured you both a drink of juice and carried the assortment of food — far more than you could possibly need — over to you.
“For my love.” He kissed the top of your head. “Enjoy.”
A gentle, comfortable silence swathed the two of you as you dug in, savouring the tastes coating your tongue. You would remember these tastes — associate them with Lucien, with this moment, forever more. You were happy.
But it was halfway through your meal that you realised that Lucien didn’t seem quite so comfortable. You studied him, a kernel of worry in your gut as you reached out and wrapped your leg around his.
“Hey.” You spoke softly. “Penny for your thoughts?”
Lucien chewed slowly. A moment passed before he lifted his gaze to yours, and he grabbed your hand. “I need to talk to you about something—tell you something we discovered in this…mess.”
And that kernel inside you grew instantly. Not just worry, but…doom. Doom, as you shifted in your seat. “Okay…”
“…Eris discovered some hidden letters in our father’s office. Letters from Linden. He’d written to you during your first couple of weeks at the estate, but they were intercepted and hidden from you.”
Your body stiffened. Lucien’s thumb brushing over your hand was the only thing keeping you grounded. “…But why? I know your father is a callous bastard, but…why bother? They’re just letters from my friend…”
Your words trailed off as Lucien shook his head. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back. Still gripped onto your hand. “They weren’t just any letters. Linden alluded to the fact that he had important information he needed to give you. He wanted to meet with you so you could talk.”
“Information?”
“You see…there were other letters, too. Addressed to my father…from your father.” His fingers gripped tighter. “…the whole thing, Y/N — you and Dion getting married — was all a part in some twisted, convoluted plan that our fathers cooked up together.”
“I know that. My father wanted me to marry a high-standing male to save our reputation—”
“No, Y/N/.” Lucien cut you off gently. “Your father arranged for you to marry Dion as part of a bargain with my father. Your father had begun peddling faebane because of the gambling debts he’d racked up and the risk of what they could do to your family’s reputation. He…he essentially gave you to my father, to Dion, to get you out of the way. So that they could negotiate their sales without you finding out and trying to put a stop to it.”
You weren’t sure you were breathing.
Your entire body had gone ice-cold. Stiff. A strange sensation of pinpricks crawled over your skin.
No. Surely your father wouldn’t stoop so low. He’d undoubtedly changed since the family business had gone under, but he wasn’t a bad male. Wasn’t someone who would bring harm to anyone’s door — much less his own children—
But despite your pleading, whirring thoughts, you knew damn well that Lucien wouldn’t be telling you this without reason. Without evidence.
You tried to swallow the lump that had grown in your throat, and the tears that rolled down your cheeks were starkly warm against your frozen skin. You were only just able to croak out, “you’re sure about this?”
“I wish I wasn’t, my love.” There was a rustle, some movement — and then a pile of envelopes was placed in front of you. “Eris made copies of all the letters.”
For a moment, you just…stared at them. You didn’t know if you had the courage to read the truth. But some small part of you knew that you needed to. That you needed to finally put the puzzle pieces of this entire bizarre situation together. To step back and look at the picture they created.
With shaking hands, you reached out. And you forced yourself to read.
Every word was like a punch to your gut. Like wiping clean what you thought you knew of the man who had raised you. You didn’t…didn’t recognise the person who had written these letters, who was doing these things. And to essentially sell you to the Vanserras — to get you off his hands…
You tossed those ones aside before you could finish reading them. But it was Linden’s letters — his tone and his manner in writing — that truly finished you off. Your tears splashed against the pages, blurring your eyes and making it impossible to read. But you could hear his voice in your head. Warning you. Telling you to stay strong. And the idea that he’d thought you hadn’t wanted to write to him—
The letter drifted from your hands, onto the table, just as a sob broke from your throat. So many emotions were warring inside you at once. You didn’t know which to focus on, how to process them.
Lucien was immediately pushing out of his chair, rounding the table to where you sat. With utter ease, he was scooping you up into his arms and lowering himself into your seat, securing you in his lap. You clung to him, the front of his shirt, as you gave in to another onslaught of tears.
“It’s going to be alright.” He soothed you quietly, pressing his lips to your hair.
You cried harder, barely able to get your words out. “My father—the hamlet fire—”
“I know. I know. The whole thing is fucked up. But they’re not getting away with this, I promise you.”
You pulled back, just enough to stare at Lucien through your teary eyes. “How can you be so sure? No one has ever stopped Beron before—”
“It’s different now. We have more people on our side than our fathers do on theirs. And he’s been rapidly losing support as High Lord for a while, now — particularly since the Harvest Festival last year, and then the hamlet fire. He’s losing his power. And we’re going to leach him of every last bit of it and expose him for what he is, what he’s done. We’re going to take him down.”
“But—but how do you outsmart and take down pure evil?”
“Tamlin has had his people watching him while I’ve been away — gathering information and evidence.” Lucien leaned down, his lips brushing away each tear on your cheeks. “That’s why I have to return to the Spring Court for the time being. To find out what he knows and help him. We’ve already learned that my father is meeting with yours today, all the way in Rask — Dion is going to use his skill and follow them. Spy on the meeting. My mother is willing to help any way that she can. And Eris…Eris has gone to track Linden down. To bring him back to our court. There is…no way, Y/N, that our fathers are getting away with this. Not once we’re finished with them.”
The information — all of it — was swimming in your head, clashing against each other like waves against rocks. You half wanted to slam your hands against your ears and hide, to reject everything you were hearing, but—
“Eris is bringing Linden back?” You sat up — and paused. “…Your father is meeting with mine today?” So many questions, you couldn’t ask them all at once.
“Yes.” Lucien studied you cautiously. “But Dion is dealing with that. You’re not to go anywhere near that meeting, do you hear me?”
You heard him. But that impulsive, furious part of you wanted to damn it all to hell and go storming straight to your father. To confront him face-to-face.
“Y/N.” Lucien dragged your gaze back to this. “We’re doing this the proper way. Believe me, I want nothing more than to confront both my father and yours, and gut them both. But that isn’t the way to solve this. We can only win this with information and evidence. By outsmarting them and exposing them.” His arms tightened around you. “I want you to go back to the estate and stay with my mother. Alright? Promise me that you will.”
You stared into those deep, russet eyes, reading the emotion, the pleading, that lay there. Everyone knew you could be foolish and ruled by your short fuse, but…but the only way of getting what you wanted — of seeing a happy ending with the male you were so in love with — would be by following their leads. This was an intricate game that they were far more well-equipped to play than you were. You wouldn’t destroy the outcome for everyone by being impulsive, reckless.
“I promise.” You said, and you meant it with your whole heart. “I’ll go back to the estate and stay with your mother. Just…just be careful. Please—”
Your worries were smothered by Lucien’s lips slanting over yours, the kiss hard and promising. He cupped your face, and it was though he was committing the feel and taste of you to memory as he claimed your mouth with his. He only pulled away to suck in a deep intake of breath.
“This’ll all be over soon, my fireling.” He breathed against your lips. “We’ll be together soon.”
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Rask was a wise territory in which to meet. Rask was so preposterously big that even the High Lord of the Autumn Court could stroll through its packed streets without garnering attention.
Dion understood the logic behind Beron and Jesper agreeing to meet here, but that didn’t make the stifling heat any more pleasant to endure. To any innocent bystander, he and Willow were just one of many wealthy couples strolling through the streets with parasols and hand-held fans and clothes so expensive they could feed an entire village for a year. But though Dion was by no means a honed, seasoned spy, not at all confident in his abilities – his skill was in conversation, in charm – he would sooner throw himself into the centre of the action than have Y/N do so – again.
He and Willow had been here for a day already, a happy, young couple — for all intents and purposes — simply holidaying on the continent. But they’d familiarised themselves with landscapes, learned exactly where this meeting was to be held. They were leaving nothing to chance.
Dion hadn’t even wanted to bring Willow with him, but…as his brilliant, wonderful love had pointed out, they were far more likely to blend in as a couple, than a lone male would, scoping out the streets. And blend in, they did.
It was mid-morning, the sun already unbearably hot, when they glimpsed Barric through the cafe window they were sat beside. Indeed, the male, striding along alone, did look rather misplaced amongst the couples and groups. The mere sight of him had white-hot rage building in Dion that he had to tamp down on. Willow kicked him beneath the table for good measure.
Right. He needed to focus. The timing had to be perfect. They’d learned, through Tamlin’s sentinels, that Barric would be disembarking at the docks at ten o’clock – which he had. He would make his way to the public gardens and be joined an hour later by Beron and Jesper. A perfectly reasonable place for three businessmen to take a leisurely stroll whilst holding an inconspicuous meeting. Nobody would suspect anything untoward, or even pay them any mind.
Dion and Willow waited until Barric was firmly out of sight before they rose from their seats, paying for their breakfast and returning to the busy Raskian streets. They kept to the darker corners of the city, the alleys and more impoverished areas – places in which they knew they weren’t at risk of running into the High Lord’s advisor. They retraced the route they’d planned in the room at the inn the night before, thanks to the map Tamlin had provided them with. It was certainly not as pleasant a walk as they would have taken on the main streets or the promenade, no – but through the winding, cobblestone paths of the city’s underbelly, they could find their way to the public gardens more or less unseen and undetected.
They arrived around thirty minutes before Beron and Jesper were due to. Once again, they blended in with the various other couples who were strolling the paths that wended through the hedges and bushes. Rather bold, really, for the High Lord to conduct such discussions in such a public place – but the coded, secretive language would mean nothing to these people. No one would know what the males amongst them were capable of.
No sign of Barric, yet, but Dion wasn’t concerned. He need only place himself in his father’s mind, think like him. He tucked Willow’s arm within his own and guided her around, pretending to peruse the flowers and shrubs. But he was looking for quiet, shaded alcoves. For somewhere Beron might stand and talk whilst maintaining a picture of ease and utter casualness.
The pair were just rounding a large conifer hedge when Dion yanked Willow back with him, pressing her against the wall of shrubbery. Barric approached from the other direction, hands in his pockets and his shoulders rolled back. He headed to a stone pavilion at the back of the garden. A quiet corner, indeed.
They kept their footsteps light as they followed the line of hedges that encased the pavilion in an almost circular formation. There, they could wait. There, they could listen.
Sweat rolled down Dion’s neck, his hair sticking to his skin. The heat was truly unbearable, and even more so with he and Willow squished so closely together. A rustle had him pressing her even closer against him, and she shoved a hand over her mouth, stifling a yelp as he stepped on her foot. There was no comfort in spying, in being discreet – his thoughts flitted momentarily to Azriel of the Night Court, and he wondered how the male did it with such ease.
Waiting, waiting, waiting. It was unbearable. But with every passing minute, the other members of the public had steered well clear of that quiet corner of the gardens. Perhaps Barric had spoken to the staff ahead of time, insisted that they not be disturbed—
Chimes peeled nearby, announcing eleven o’clock. Beron and Jesper would be here any moment. Beron Vanserra despised poor time-keeping. Was never, ever late.
The sound of footsteps scuffing on the stone path had both Dion and Willow tensing. He pushed her closer against the hedge, tempted to hold his breath, to not make a sound as he listened to the approaching people – no, he realised, approaching person. That was only one pair of footsteps. And not headed towards the pavilion, but rounding the corner—
He turned just in time to come face-to-face with Barric. Barric, who merely smiled at the two of them, unsurprised. He took in the sight of Dion and Willow with a strange look of amusement in his eyes. There was no Beron. No Jesper…
Alarm bells began ringing inside of Dion’s mind. He stood up straight, angling himself in front of Willow as Barric began to stroll towards them.
“Oh, dear me.” He purred, a figure of pure assuredness. His eyes flicked over Dion, and his lips twitched. “Does Y/N know that you’ve taken to rutting among the conifers with the younger, prettier sister? I can’t imagine she’d be all too thrilled.”
Dion’s jaw clenched. He had no words. The situation was suddenly clear as day before him.
The whole thing had been a fucking trap.
“What a coincidence, that we should end up in Rask at the same time as each other.” Barric clicked his tongue. “Except, of course, it’s no coincidence at all, is it?”
Dion swallowed. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to–”
“This was a fun little experiment. So rarely do I get to visit the continent.” He leaned past Dion to shoot a positively lupine smile at Willow. “I take it this is your first time here? Beautiful weather, no?”
“What,” Dion gritted out, “experiment?”
Barric rolled his eyes. “I must say, Dion, I’m a tad disappointed. I thought you were smarter than this. You didn’t actually think that Beron could be spied on without finding out, did you? He suspected for weeks that he was being watched. This was just a fun way to confirm it. Though, I’m a little annoyed – I bet ten gold marks that your feral fiancee would be the one to follow us.”
Dion clenched his fists at his side. He wanted to throttle him, to kill him. He’d been so fucking stupid.
“My father’s not here?” He asked.
“No, Dion, your father’s not here. Do you truly believe he has time to go gallivanting around Rask when there’s work to be done? You made a wasted journey, I’m afraid. But at least I can go back and tell him he was right — that he was being spied on.” He tsked sarcastically. “And by his own son, no less. I’m sure he’ll have a small amount of leniency for his kin, but…well, Tamlin’s sentinels didn’t have the same kind of luck.”
“You killed them?” Willow finally spoke on a breath, staring wide-eyed over Dion’s shoulder.
“Me?” Barric scoffed. “No. I was on a ship to Rask by then. But I believe the High Lord had a fun time doing so. And he’s even being generous enough to return their bodies to the Spring Court – well, their heads, anyway. On spikes.”
Dion…Dion needed to get Willow out of there. Now. If she didn’t vomit, he may just do it for the both of them.
He grabbed hold of her hand, tugging. He could barely get his shaking legs to move as he snarled, “Come on.”
“Oh, are you leaving?” Barric tilted his head. “That’s a shame. These gardens are so beautiful. I do hope I didn’t ruin your experience. If I were you, I’d make the most of your trip — give Beron some time to calm down before you return home.”
Dion didn’t deign to respond. Every part of him trembled, but he pushed himself forward. Pushed himself to hold Willow close and hurry past. To…to go back to their inn, or…or wherever. He didn’t know. His head was swimming, spinning. He needed to get them out.
But Barric called after them one more time.
“Dion?” His lips twitched upwards. “You can’t win, you know. There’s no use in trying.”
Again, he didn’t bother with a response. Didn’t even look back.
But as he hurried himself and Willow out of there, feeling like he was wading through mud, he couldn’t help feeling like Barric’s words rang true.
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Go back to the estate and stay with my mother.
You would do just that. Whatever Lucien needed you to do. You could still feel him on you, smell him on you, and that in itself gave you the strength to just sit tight and wait.
You couldn’t help feeling unease, though, after you’d returned your horse to the stables. As you climbed the steps up to the front door, the place felt…wrong. As though you were walking straight into a trap.
Paranoid. You were simply paranoid from all the information you’d learned.
Still, that paranoia kept you on high alert whilst you began travelling the winding corridors of the house, in search of Catrin. You knew that the High Lord and Barric were still away from the estate, as were most of the other Vanserras, but…something felt off. Even with the usual servants milling around and completing their jobs, it felt almost as if the entire property was…was holding its breath. Waiting.
“Catrin?” You called softly, opening the door to the sitting room she favoured. The area was empty, dark. No teacups or open books or signs that anyone had been in there recently.
You pursed your lips, shutting the door again. Maybe you should try the solarium; she often enjoyed watching the evening sun pour through the windows in various pastel hues. You could sit with her, and tell her that she was right — that you were going to fight for your love.
You turned, rounding another corner – and smacked into someone.
Not Catrin. The figure was far too big, far too imposing. Tall and muscled and firm. Your stomach bottomed out as Beron Vanserra’s spiced scent filled your nose.
Slowly, you stepped back. Swallowed. The High Lord cocked his head at you, not unlike a curious cat.
Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous, a voice bleated in your head. Watch yourself.
“Apologies, my lord.” Your voice barely came out, a mere rasp. “I didn’t see you there.”
His lips jerked into an unkind smile. “Snooping about the halls? Have you nothing better to do?”
“I was looking for Ca—Lady Autumn. I thought we might have tea together.”
Your quick correction clearly wasn’t enough. Realisation crossed his face, swept away by thunder. You’d given away that she’d shared her name with you — and he hated it. Hated her having an identity, something besides the title he’d stamped to her. Hated that things went on beneath his nose.
But he schooled his features into neutrality. “Interesting,” was all he offered.
You dipped your chin, stepping aside. “Excuse me.” Go back to the estate and stay with my mother. Go back to the estate and stay with my mother. You couldn’t get yourself into trouble if you simply…avoided it. Did as you were told.
But the High Lord’s arm was whipping out, blocking your path so quickly that you walked into it. It was firm, like a true barricade able to hold you back. You stiffened.
“Lady Autumn,” he said, his tone dripping with distaste, “is at the market, where I sent her. I needed you and I to be able to talk in peace.”
You swallowed, your eyes not moving from his arm. “What could we have to talk about?”
He moved so fast, there was no chance for you to even register that the strong, muscled arm was scooping you up and shoving you into the sitting room, slamming the door shut behind you. You winced as he pinned you against the wall, barely a space between you. His scent was too much, too strong.
“You’re posing a great deal of problems for me, Y/N.” He murmured lethally. “And I don’t like it.”
You didn’t—couldn’t—raise your eyes to his. You honed in on an insignificant, dark blot on his collar. So unusual for the High Lord to be anything besides pristine. To have carelessly allowed his crisp tunic to be stained with ink, or—
No, not ink. Blood. That was blood.
Only then did you meet his gaze, your voice like steel as you gritted out, “what have you done.”
Not Catrin. Please, please not Catrin. Had he somehow found out about your little trip outside the estate, your conversation? Had he—had he hurt her?
The High Lord glanced down at the stain of blood on his tunic. His lips twitched. “I merely doled out a justified punishment to Tamlin’s sentinels. I don’t like being watched, Y/N.”
Your stomach turned. You were going to be sick. “Seems to me that hiding that big cache of Faebane has turned you paranoid—”
You flinched, words cutting off as his hand rose. But he merely lowered it to your hair, his fingers sinking through the strands and…and finding your braid. Toying with it. His eyes studied it, and he seemed to smile knowingly.
“Do you know what I find mighty curious, Y/N?”
You didn’t miss a single movement of his. “What?”
That small, barely-there gap between your two bodies was closed as he leaned in. You stiffened, not daring to breathe as the ridge of his nose coasted along your throat, and he inhaled.
“I can smell my son all over you.” His voice was too close, too much, a scrape against your skin. “Over every. Single. Inch of you.”
You tried to back up, to no avail. “Dion and I never swore an oath of celibacy before the wedding. What of it?”
Beron chuckled — an awful, grating sound. “Wrong son. Try again.”
“Dion—”
“Dion,” he spat, his hand snapping up to wrap around your throat, “is in Rask with Willow. Because the two of them went there to spy on me, didn’t they? And fell flawlessly into my trap. Barric is dealing with them as we speak.”
Every word eddied from your mind. Every word except your sister’s name. Willow, Willow, Willow. You hadn’t known she’d gone with Dion, hadn’t known that—
Fell flawlessly into my trap.
Barric is dealing with them as we speak.
“What are you—” You managed to gasp out around your quickening breaths. “What have you done?”
“Besides defending what’s mine? My right?” Beron shrugged. “Besides punishing traitors—”
“You are the traitor.” You snapped. “You and my fucking father. Betraying your people. Harming them.”
The High Lord chuckled — chuckled. And it was enough to incense you. Enough to spark that fury inside of you that gave you enough strength to shove him away from you.
“You’re sick.” You sneered. “You’ve done so much damage — to your own people, your court — and you don’t even care. But rest assured, Beron, you won’t get away with it. We will destroy you, just as you have destroyed so much. We’re going to expose you, and—”
Your words must have hit a nerve. Because Beron struck.
One moment, he was sneering at you. The next — in a flash of movement so fast, you barely had time to register it — he was grabbing you by the neck, raising an object over your head.
He squeezed hard, and you clawed at his hand, fought and fought to rip it from your skin.
But then his other hand was slicing down. Something hit your head with a thunderous blow.
You knew nothing more than the darkness that seeped in.
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The High Lord stood over the female, his breaths heaving.
She didn’t move.
Crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from a deep gash on her head. He could hear that she was still breathing — just about. For now.
He’d known he’d have to deal with her eventually.
He nudged her with the toe of his boot. It only caused her arm to flop back. Good. She wouldn’t wake any time soon — not before it was too late.
Everything had got too close to comfort. Watchful eyes everywhere, whispers amongst his kin. There was evidence — evidence he needed rid of.
Y/N being the most glaring piece of evidence.
He would raze this place to the ground before he’d allow his secrets to be exposed. Words were nothing without proof — and this manor was full of the stuff.
He stepped over Y/N’s crumpled body. She didn’t so much as twitch. Didn’t stir as he slipped out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him.
He felt nothing as he walked through the halls of the manor, towards his office. That was where the bulk of the proof lay.
And so that was where the heart of the destruction would begin.
He flung the door open wordlessly. The guards were with Catrin, accompanying her to the market, just as he’d instructed. The servants never dared spare him a glance. Perhaps they’d feel differently after today.
His eyes took one sweeping look of his office, and still, he felt nothing. Wasn’t capable of feeling anything. He’d always been cold, stoic. Always needed to be.
There was no flicker of emotion for the wealth of possessions he’d accumulated over the years. No emotion for the proud domain of a High Lord.
And no emotion for his two sons who lounged on a couch, lying in wait. Jareth and Rian glanced up upon his arrival, waiting dutifully for instruction.
“You called for us, father?” Jareth sat up, eagerness shining in his eyes.
Beron strode to the desk. The desk that would be ashes within the hour. “The time has come for the two of you to prove yourselves to me.”
Both males immediately straightened where they sat. They were different to their brothers — had none of Catrin’s softness, and all of Beron’s cunning.
“What are we to do?” Rian asked.
Beron stared into space, as if seeing something no one else could. “I want every room on this level burning within minutes.”
His sons stilled, sharing a glance. It was Jareth who repeated, “…burning?”
“I want you to set fires. As many as you possibly can without being seen.”
“…to the manor?” Rian stared at him.
The High Lord’s eyes shot to him. “Yes, you imbecile, to the manor. The whole place needs to go up in flames. You know of the discourse amongst the court — that villagers have been steadily turning on me. The fire will be blamed on them. On an uprising of brutes. And I, their High Lord, will be running straight towards the danger and rescuing innocent servants and staff from the blaze.” While vital evidence is burned, he didn’t add. “No one will dare question their loyalty to me after today.”
There was clearly a moment of hesitation between the two sons. A part of them that wanted to argue that this was their home, these were their things, that they loved it here.
But their father was their High Lord. And with a scathing last look from him, they rose and slunk from the room to follow orders.
Beron stood from the chair at his desk. Took one last look at the study.
He glanced down at his hands, summoning flames to his fingertips. Strode towards the door.
And with one jerk of his wrist, the entire study became an inferno. The heat was stifling, the flames spreading, eating up the carpet and furniture. The evidence. He shut the door behind him with barely a glance.
He backed away, not at all hurried. But as he strolled to the exit, he tuned in to the sounds of similar fires bursting through rooms. Destroying things.
And soon, the most vital things would be gone.
Soon, there would be nothing of Y/N and the evidence, besides a pile of ashes.
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He took a back exit, into the gardens, and followed the path to the front. By the time he’d strolled there, black smoke was already churning out of the windows and doors. Panicked cries had begun to seep out from inside. He wasn’t worried that any of the staff would find Y/N; very few of them ventured to the lower areas, the personal areas, without express permission.
He rounded the corner just in time to see Catrin approaching, Beron’s two guards at her sides and pure horror on her face. The basket she’d taken to the market was tossed aside, and she grasped the skirts of her gown, running towards the manor.
Beron shot into her path so quickly, she stumbled into him. He barely glanced at his guards, ordering them with a jerk of his chin. “Go and help. Quickly.”
The two of them took off in a sprint, running for the manor. Shouts carried out to them – and heat. Unbearable, stifling heat.
Catrin attempted to sidestep Beron, her entire body visibly shaking. “What is—”
“Don’t,” The High Lord cut her off menacingly, “you dare.”
But she was panicked, trying to push past him, to see past him. “What happened? How many people are in there? Beron—”
He was tired of dealing with hysterical females. He gripped her with one hand, so hard that he knew it would bruise. Used the other hand to unsheath his dagger.
She was far too preoccupied to notice as he drove the hilt into the back of her skull, and she crumpled just as Y/N had.
He laid her down on the lawn. By the time she awoke, it would be too late to help.
And then he hurried back inside.
To play the hero.
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lucien tags: @brekkershadowsinger @sillycrownlady @ruler-of-hades @lectoradefics @lucyysthings @littlemoonash @janzquu @carmelalikestoread @cathyac @tasha2627 @elkessecretplace @inkyvelvet @acourtofthought @zazite95 @antisocialcookie16 @sehalpha25 @fuckthatfeeling @adamgetawaydriver @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @lostpirateinwonderland @scrunklybunny @owllover123 @vangoghsbaby @goodbyemilkyway @babyimagangsta2 @cynicalpotato95
#acotar#lucien x reader#lucien vanserra x reader#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar#lucien fanfic#acotar fandom#acotar writing#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfic#acotar headcanon#acotar x reader#acotar smut#acotar fluff#acotar series#fluff#mating bond#smut#lucien smut#lucien fluff#lucien fic#angst#sarah j maas#vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#autumn court#acotar universe#reader insert
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What's your opinion on Monty?
Oh I've been waiting for an ask like this to come across my inbox after how popular my Bonnie theories have been. (full theory and spoilers under the cut)
Short answer: I think he's neat!
Long answer: I think Montgomery Gator is one of, if not the, most tragic character in the entire Glamrock cast. And his tragedy, while of course upsetting to see, is also incredibly endearing from a narrative standpoint.
What does that mean? Well, let me explain.
Monty was not made to be part of the band. That much we know in the canon lore. He was his own animatronic, with his own attraction and his own thing. Whether or not he was there from the very beginning when the Pizzaplex was built, or maybe they added him later to bring in more diversity and subvert the burden on the main band, I don't think we'll ever know. (since every main band member has their own attraction, which probably subtracts from their available time to perform main shows throughout the day)
The only bits and pieces we get of Monty's "life" before his joining the band is narrated through the Gator Golf attraction.
Monty's story starts with him as a One Man Jug Band, playing by himself in his swamp.
Now it's already pretty apparent that the Monty we see here is way more docile and doe-eyed than the one we encounter in Security Breach, but maybe that's the point.
We all know the stories of humble beginnings, of rags to riches. To me, Monty was one of those stories. A little guy who ended up catching a big break down the line.
Now to get this out of the way, I don't believe Monty shattered Bonnie or the theory that Monty hated Bonnie (I went into detail here if you want the full explanation). We actually can easily debunk that theory in a few different ways, but the main thing is everything we see about Monty implies he actually admired Bonnie.
In his ride you see how he looks at Bonnie, His Showtime outfit incorporates yellow stars (like Bonnie), and he even still uses Bonnie's bass.
Now if you hate someone, if you hate them enough to kill them and take their place because you felt you deserved their fame, would you emulate that person? Would you use and wear their items, thereby constantly reminding yourself of someone you hate so much? Why would you go through the trouble of getting rid of them, of wiping them from everyone's memory, just to keep things that will always tie you to them? That doesn't make much sense to me.
You could argue that the items are trophies of his 'kill', but wouldn't you keep trophies or things of the like somewhere no one could see them? Why flaunt them and again, bring attention to this person that you hate so very much?
I think it's the exact opposite. Monty admired Bonnie, the depths of which we probably won't ever know the extent of, and when Bonnie disappeared, Monty took his place but never forgot the person who got him there. He wears Bonnie's glasses (which we never see Bonnie wear aside from in his neon portrait, which may imply that he might have given the shades to Monty directly at some time before he was shattered) and he uses Bonnie's bass, which was ALSO given to him according to the Gator Golf ride
I've seen people say that this scene is actually showing that Bonnie was just setting his bass aside after a show and Monty stole it, thereby using it for his own gain and I. . .don't see how people can infer that from the image? It looks like Bonnie is literally holding it out to Monty, who is on one knee and accepting it with respect and a cheerful expression on his face. Besides, you need some MASSIVE balls to just. . .steal a band's instrument after the show and just get away with it? Especially from what we see in game, there'd be no feasible way Monty could do that without the audience or technicians being like "What the fuck are you doing"
So yeah no, this looks like a mutual passing of the torch.
Anyways, Monty uses the shades and bass as a nod to Bonnie, he was a sweetheart with a baby face who got thrown into fame to replace his idol. I think, in some regards, Monty might've felt conflicted. Like, here he is in his dream job, but at the cost of someone he cared about.
You know who Monty DID hate though? Freddy. We can infer from plenty of sources and in game material that Monty HATED Freddy, and the reasoning for that could be literally anything, but it's not odd for a bandmate to dislike their leader/member because they're more popular (you see it a lot in IRL bands too, the favoritism and jealousy)
It's also easy to see that fame changed Monty, as it does for plenty of people. Having so many eyes on you, feeling the euphoria of all the love and attention day in and day out, it gets to your head. It changes who you are, muddles your humility. And we can see that Monty acts in the stereotypical Rocker way, conceited, destroys his greenroom and other things after shows, etc. It's an all too common trope and its sad to see it happen to Monty, though a lot of his rage could also be compounded by Glitchtrap/Vanny/Mimic being annoying (Notably, you never hear of Monty destroying his shades or his bass. Perhaps there are some things that he's oddly protective of)
And then in the main Security Breach, you only meet Monty at his worst. Angry, Corrupted, feral. You spend your time running from him (since Bonnie's shades protect him from most of Gregory's gimmicks), you hear from second-hand conjecture that he was probably the one who shattered Bonnie (which probably weighs on him too, the children asking where Bonnie is, and the technicians maybe side-eyeing him thinking that he's just a meathead who destroyed Bonnie to take his place) and each time you see him, he just gets more and more split from that sweetheart who was happily playing in his swamp.
Not to mention how he "dies"
Monty comes for Cassie, ruined beyond salvation, his mind still gone from all of the torment he endured being controlled and shattered over and over. To save herself, Cassie uses the Faz-wrench to activate the power and escape, only for the electric currents to turn the water into a death trap.
The thing that decommissions Monty, that finally puts him out of his misery, is Bonnie. That's Bonnie's neon portrait (a bit damaged from the dilapidated building) and it is the very thing that electrifies the water, destroying Monty's hardware. Whether or not its karma for Monty shattering Bonnie, or some sort of heartfelt prose that the thing that finally allows Monty to rest is the one person he cared about most, who's to say? You could argue it both ways, but isn't it just a tad more comforting to think that even in death, Bonnie was always looking out for his understudy?
Monty's story and character progression is a trope of Falling from Grace, of Icarus flying too close to the Sun and plummeting to the unforgiving earth. The more I learn about him, the more I feel bad for him. I think he deserved better. Roxanne for her redemption in Ruin, but Monty is left open-ended. A monster and murderer to some, a washed-up rocker to others.
But I think Montgomery was more than that. I think he had the capacity for gentleness and love, but he was in a position where the world was against him. His older and more experienced bandmates always destined to be loved more than him. He was basically an entry level teenager around mastery level adults. He might've lost his mind back then to the pressure and the negativity, resorting to violence for attention. No one was there for him, and Bonnie, the only person who probably would've been there for him and understood him better than most, disappeared without a trace, leaving him all alone in a world that would never fully accept him.
Yeah, I like Monty a lot.
#what a character#him and roxy had the best character arcs#but they obviously ended in different ways#with roxy being able to shake free and redeem herself#and monty dying all by himself#oh#my heart#fnaf security breach#security breach#fnaf#shoucan says#five nights at freddy's#shooting the shit with shoucan#fnaf ruin dlc#security breach ruin#ruin dlc#fnaf ruin#montgomery gator#fnaf montgomery#glamrock monty
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Okay, this is a DP x DC AU idea, but it could also work for a regular DP AU. The main premise is that Danny (Phantom or Fenton but I prefer Fenton) pretends to be magic user.
Normal DP AU idea first-Danny accidentally uses his powers in front of his parents and claims that it’s just magic because he thinks that his parent would be more accepting of him using magic rather than being a ghost. Surprisingly it works, but now they want a scientific explanation for it while Danny is being very defensive about it. They want to respect their son’s wishes, but being able to science magic is very appealing.
Now onto a more dc exclusive idea-there may be a no-meta rule in Gotham, but I’m pretty sure there’s not a no-magic-user rule there. So, in the case of Danny needed to use his powers, he could come up with the excuse that he just has magic.
And since Gotham is cursed to all hell and-I think this is a somewhat popular hc based on my semi-occasional lurking of the batman tag but take that with a bucket of salt-magic users don’t want to touch it with a ten foot pole. So when Danny’s asked, “then why are you here?” he can say “I don’t like dealing with other magic users they all suck.” Idk that’s just the most believable thing I can think off that Danny would actually say as an reason. I’ll be going more into this idea under the cut.
Now the actual reason for why he’s in Gotham can be anything. If he’s on a school trip he can just say “I’m on a school trip” if he uses his powers as Danny Fenton. He could be on the run, whether it be from his own parents, the GIW, Vlad, or something else. Sky’s the limit with this.
If he’s using his powers as Phantom, however, then that excuse probably isn’t going to work since he is obviously glowing and has an echoy voice, not to mention he’s also wearing a hazmat suit and definitely looks like a child who died in a lab accident, yet oddly looks completely untouched by anything that could’ve hurt him. So that wouldn’t work for my idea, so Fake-Magic-User!Danny Fenton.
Now Danny can’t keep this up forever, Batman-and the rest of the batfam-going to see some holes in his scheme(i know it’s not the right word but I can’t think of something better)and would try to get an actual magic user’s opinion. Now let’s get out what I think the five magic users I know of would react to the being asked to check this out-but also take this with a bucket of salt since my knowledge of dc is surface level at best;
Dr. Fate - It would funny if he was just, busy doing who knows what and no one could contact him. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that in a fic once so :). But the best part would be that he appears once Danny reveals that he’s in fact not a magic user. Dr. Fate would float down from somewhere in the sky and say something along the lines of “You are Daniel [middle name] Fenton, the ghost hero known as Phantom,” I don’t know how he talks exactly, but it’s something like that. Just completely pulls the rug under Danny and just summarizes everything. Danny’s secret identity would’ve also been slightly revealed but Dr. Fate would put a nice little bow on it. Or maybe I have no idea how Dr. Fate acts so I would love for someone who did know more about him to put out their own ideas for this. Same goes with the other magic users I’m going to talk about.
Constantine - He would be like “Eh, he’s not hurting anyone other than himself, it’ll be fine. Come get me when he start tearing fabrics of reality.” Okay, not exactly like that but he would just not want to go to Gotham and the whole situation with Danny. From the Bat’s description, Danny wouldn’t sound worth his time/it would something that the batfam could easily handle. And he would just direct them to Zatanna for magic questions/suggest for them to just ask Zatanna and leave him alone. Speaking of Zatanna-
Zatanna - I have no idea on how she would act. The only reference I have for her is from the YJ cartoon so based on that she might go check it out immediately but Danny would try everything in his power to evade her until she gives up. He would definitely be able to do so unless Zatanna does some dues es machania(can’t spell that) that teleports her right next to Danny. Even her being able to track him he can still run away for days.
Raven - I’m pretty sure she’s a magic user, I don’t see why not. But like with Zatanna, the only reference for Raven is from a cartoon-Teen Titans(not go). So she probably wouldn’t care if Danny wasn’t a threat. Yeah I don’t have much to say I should probably rewatch TT.
Captain Marvel/Shazam - He is a magic user right? Anyhow, I’m pretty sure that he’d be the only one to actually meet Danny. But I don’t think that he would instantly go “yeah this guy’s not a magic user” but would instead be like “huh, this guy’s vibes are weird. maybe he just has weird magic?” But, I also like to imagine that by some twist of fate he’s the first dc character to meet Phantom and would be able to put two and two together(thanks Wisdom of Solomon). That doesn’t automatically mean that Billy would spill the bean though, depending on the impression Danny leaves, he would 100% help him out with his charade.
Basically, Danny would be able to keep this up for a good few months to weeks at best lol depending on how much of a threat he seems to be and how much he would actually use his powers.
But yeah, that’s about all I have on this idea for now. I hope y’all like it as much as I do :)
#danny phantom#dp x dc#dp crossover#danny fenton#danny phantom crossover#dp au#danny phantom au#revenant rambles
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I am once again being autistic. It's autism acceptance month, which means you have to listen to me (that is a joke).
I'm thinking about Franziska von Karma as autistic. Her being so blunt and mean and I just love her.
Thinking about Maya Fey being so unapologetically autistic in the opposite way.
Welcome to some of my FranMaya autism heacanons.
PLEASE NOTE that I am autistic. None of this is supposed to be babying or degrading. Most of this is based on my own (or friends) experiences as an autistic person
Headcanons under the cut
|| Headcanons ||
Franziska stims using her whip (no shit)
Maya fidgets with her magatama (again no shit)
Franziska has problems with textures in food. She is very blunt about it, but in the way of "I can’t eat this." and a lot of people think she's just being snobby.
Adding onto previous, she doesn't like touching food with her hands.
One of Maya’s comfort foods are hamburgers.
This leads to her and Franziska sitting eating hamburgers in very different ways. Franziska got a fork and knife, while Maya just uses her hands.
Manfred Von Karma was not aware of autism beyond it’s stereotypes before Franziska got diagnosed. He puts in a lot of research into it later.
Side note, but I feel like either Franziska, mvk, or miles have sued autism speaks or at least prosecuted a case against them.
She doesn't have meltdowns as often as she should.
She deems them selfish, attention seeking, and childish. She doesn’t let herself have them. However, when she does have them, they're quite bad.
Both Maya and Franziska have too many layers on them at most times, and when overwhelmed, that is a living hell.
Franziska loves talking about the differences between japanifornia and Germany's legal systems (her special interest is law. I mean, she became a prosecutor at 13.) And Maya loves to listen.
She loves having debates with people but doesn't realise when they turn into actual arguments.
She and Maya are really good at finding that line between fun argument and real fight.
She doesn't understand why people find her scary. When they’re not going against her in court, they shouldn't have anything to fear in her mind.
She is very upfront about being autistic when she feels its needed. She doesn't go around informing strangers, but if someone asks her why she acts a certain way she may just straight up say "I'm autistic."
In the same vain, Maya makes jokes about her own autism a lot.
Maya vocal stims a lot, she makes random noises and quotes shows. Franziska tends to repeat these notices back to her.
Maya randomly: woop woop!
Franziska without hesitation: woop woop!
Maya infodumps about the Steel Samurai lore, and Franziska ends up taking notes. She doesn’t like the show, but she likes to hear about it from Maya. Sometimes a new episode of the pink princess drops or a leak for new merch and Maya will be like "FRANZY YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED" and Franziska will listen intently.
Maya gets overwhelmed at fancy dinners, there's so many unfamiliar social rules and etiquette she has to learn.
It's too much but she doesn't want to ruin anything for Franziska who invited her. Franziska notices this and immediately goes "We will leave now." With no further explanation. Maya’s later like "hey uuhh, why did we leave?" And Franziska equally confused is just like "You were uncomfortable and overwhelmed. Where you not? I don't want you to be uncomfortable, " and she says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and maya just melts.
Maya is the overly expressive type of autistic and Franziska is the blank face type of autistic. They compliment each other.
Maya uses Franziska as a weighted blanket.
Both of them get easily attached to inanimate objects.
Maya once gave Franziska the advice of using that kind of attachment to trick her own brain.
"Like, I once managed to get through a day of spirit training because I promised my necklace we would do it"
Franziska now promises her whip things it'll get to see and/or accompany her for, as a way of beating procrastination
I just love two autistic people helping each other and understanding each other.
Bonus!
Franziska will sometimes look to Phoenix when doing something that people react weirdly to. Idk why, but I love the idea of them being friends in a very specific way. She'll say something and then look over to Wright being like "too direct?" And he'll do that little unsure back and forth with his hand.
Maya also relies a lot on Nick for some social rules. Like when Edgeworth was behind bars and telling them to laugh at him and she earnestly goes, "Should we be laughing???"
Oh also. @musashi I feel like this is a post you may enjoy, and some of these are inspired by your video about Franziska. I'd also love to hear if you have any similar headcanons.
#ace attorney#franziska von karma#franziska ace attorney#maya fey#autism#autistic maya fey#autistic franziska von karma#autistic experiences#ace attorney headcanon#happy autism month#im probably going to make one of these for Edgeworth and Phoenix too#franmaya#i nearly forgot that tag holy shit
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Hello darlings! 🍂
So a while back someone asked if I’d ever be willing to share my planning document for the story. As I’m currently in the process of extending my in-game year to 6 days I took a moment to redo my template. While it is still blank and spoiler-free, I thought this would be a good time to show you all what it looks like. Of course this includes a long rambling explanation so I’ll leave everything for anyone interested under the cut…
So first and foremost this is just the template that helps me, and may not work for others. I also know some simmers keep a calendar oriented around in-game events like birthdays, weddings, etc.; however, mine is designed to help me translate my writing into orderly in-game shoots as well to see if there’s an imbalance in posts.
To break it down, I use a system where 6 in-game days=one real life year (although this template could be used for any formula). Each of these days is listed under the year and corresponds to a color for easy visual delineation. The pattern then repeats itself each year. Under each day, I have five slots categorized by times of day. This is because I usually have more than one post to shoot on the same day, so I can list them out neatly to the right rather than all in one line. It also gives me a better idea of what time of day/lighting to shoot each scene in.
Moving to the right, you can see that scenes fall into different categories. I mostly use “story posts” which is just the scenes as written in order. “Other events” and “Etc. Posts” are for things like letters (when I will need to load into another household to take photos there) or portraits, lookbooks, etc. All the way to the right is where I tally up the total number of story posts for that year, which helps me identify gaps in the narrative.
When I am ready for a particular arc (as I’m currently in the 1930-1933 arc this already has a completed spreadsheet), I read through the writing that I have and plug each scene into the corresponding year. I can then move some scenes up or down if need be as well as see where I can add scenes. When it’s completed, I can go in game and know exactly what needs to be shot next or if I missed anything. It does take a bit of time to translate my writing into this spreadsheet, but I find it saves me a lot of time and headache in the overall process.
I hope that this wasn’t overly complicated as I know systems/organization techniques often make sense to those who use them but not to others. Feel free to leave any questions in the comments 🥰
#my apologies I cannot for the life of me remember who asked!#otherwise I would tag you dear#but I hope you see this and find it helpful#resources
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So, I've been watching Hazbin Hotel, and Helluva Boss.
Loved it. Therefore, obviously, to none of my friends' surprise, I added the fandom in that nonsensical tarot project of mine- and it starts with Lucifer, the short king himself, as the Five of Cups.
(The Devil was already taken, which both caused me immense amont of dismay, and just as much relief, because that version of Lucifer does NOT fit the Devil card as much as he could.)
Now, under the cut (only for the braves who can handle a long post spoken in broken english), the mandatory explanation for the choice of the card and the composition.
A joyous card, isn't it! Ahah? Totally. Let's get right into it.
The Five of Cups, Upright, often appears in a reading when a situation hasn't turned out the way you expected, leaving you sad, regretful and disappointed. I mean, you just gave one (1) apple to humanity, just to give them free will, and look what they did with it! What the hell, literally! You are blaming yourself, and instead of moving on with your life (despite the small inconvenience of being banished to an endless pit of evil and horror), you ar choosing to wallow in your self-pity. All you can focus on right now is what went wrong and how you failed. You're stuck in the past, and you can't let go; old wounds you never closed are keeping you from trying to create some positive changes. Which is why the card is here: to help you forgive. Forgiveness, to others and to yourself, is the only way you'll be able to release yourself from your sadness and disappointment. Remember that foresight and wisdom in the present moments comes from mistakes of the past: reflect on what led you to this point, and try to find something positive by reflecting on the lessons learned. You can rebuilt, you still can challenge an unfair system, despite everything! New possibilities are waiting for you, as shown by your daughter. You just have to be ready to accept it. Shift your mindset and focus on what can go right from this point forward.
Reversed, the card suggests that you might look at yourself specifically as a failure. You are stuck in a loop of self-loathing, and can't bring yourself to open up to others about those feelings. The reversed Five of Cups card is here to encourage you to open up: people around you may not see how much pain you're in right now, so don't be afraid to ask for help or talk to someone you trust.
You cannot undo the past, and just as Lucifer at the end of the first season, you are starting to accept that. You are slowly discovering how to be open to the new opportunities and ideas shown to you; you are finally starting to be more hopeful anout the future. You may not be fully okay again, you might still be in pain, but you are taking the first step: the card encourage you to keep doing so. Focus on the bright side. Not all is lost!
Lot of talks already, so I'll quickly go over those. The cups (that I spend too long on for such a small detail in the whole piece agh agh) are, as I drew them, a symbols of the regrets and the remorses felt. The regrets are the titled, broken cups: Lucifer's marriage, his relation with his daughter, and the dreams he had as an angel. Three things that feels like they are lost, damaged beyond repairs- but that are, in fact, still within reach. The content hasn't even spill yet. The remorses are the acts that can't be undone, and the effect on the vision he has of himself- the bitten apple, and the beastly devil that can't be trust. Those are te things he keeps blaming himself for, and the source of the self-loathing he's stuck into. But! He's turning his back on them, as a way to show he is not as linked to those things as he thinks he is. One is a thing of the past, the other is merely a shadow of who he is- what's important is what lays in front of him.
And that's it for today! You're still here? Dang, you're resilient. Thank you very much, hope you enjoyed this. And you're just in time for a little ending poll!
See, I started two other WIPs while drawing Lucifer. Therefore...
#hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#tarot project#five of cups#hazbin hotel fanart#lucifer fanart#lucifer hazbin hotel#my art
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