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#he turned children into child soldiers...?
theskyexists · 2 years
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Watched love and thunder and it actually left me with a bad out of wack feeling
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batcavescolony · 16 days
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S4 E3 Supernatural
Now THIS is a good episode. Castiel took Dean back in time to 1973! We find out Sam and Dean's maternal grandparents, Samuel and Deanna Campbell, and Mary are hunters. On top of that, Azazel is playing match maker so he can have his little psychic children be the best of the best, and he made a deal with Mary to revive John after he killed him. Also as if Azazel hasn't killed enough of Sam & Dean's family they killed Samuel and Deanna too. Oh this is so interesting, then Castiel taking Dean back, saying destiny can't be changed but Sam is going down a dark path and either Dean stops him or angels do.
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lovesickeros · 20 days
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putting my thoughts under the cut in case people dont want to spoil themself on arle voicelines
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currently obsessed with the view our current harbingers have of the Tsaritsa. both childe and arlecchino greatly respect her even if arlecchino is dubiously loyal to the Tsaritsa at best. they both talk about her as a figure who is gentle and compassionate, completely at odds with both the organization she allows to commit horrible acts (dottore. its a lot of dottore. he canonically took children from the hoth under the old knave if they were no longer considered "useful" and used as test subjects). shes described as someone with no love left for her people yet the harbingers we've heard talk about her never seem to describe her in such a manner. of course, childe mentions she had to harden herself to complete her goal, but he still notes that shes too gentle. the more we learn about her the more i want to meet her purely because she is contradictions all the way down and its great!!! taking whatever scraps i can get and its perfectly in line with my characterization too so i stay winning
#not a fic#shaking like a rabid dog TSARITSA LORE TSARITSA LORE TSARITSA LORE#lore that actually follows how i characterize her too!!!!!!#a woman who is the goddess of love yet so clearly incapable of it and still it peeks through anyway#a horrible contradiction of the goddess of love and the tsaritsa. the cryo archon.#a woman who is gentle and loving and adoring at her very core but she cannot love. she cannot allow herself to love#despite the fact it was the very thing she was known for. she was the goddess of love and now she must sever a part of her#the fatui as a whole is all about “the greater good. no matter the cost” and it shows through every member!!#also the themes of “love” are shown through her harbingers as well in interesting way that i adore#childe and arlecchino themselves especially.#childe is all about familial love. he adores his family and esp his younger siblings. he'll do anything to make them happy#contrasted by arlecchino's lack of emotion at all. she cares for the kids but does she love them? maybe. but she is not a good “father”#she is still a harbinger. still raising children to be soldiers in the name of the tsaritsa.#but also her + clervie as a theme of love (however you see them aside)#i wont go too in depth but scara and his is familial as well (ei. and later nahida)#and also signora (romantic. rostam) is the turning point in her story. it made her into the crimson witch of flames!!!#something something love is consuming. and it consumed her (also applicable to arle to an extent)#okay ill shut up now this has been ur daily tsaritsa yapping
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sandymybeloved · 2 years
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School Reunion is probably one of the lightest episodes Sarah Jane appears in post 2005, pretty impressive for a character with their own children's TV show
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deathdxnces · 8 months
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"To stop the spread that Noxian disease, you have to exterminate them at the root... Allowing any of those vermin to survive will only result in more and more of them, whether through blood or spreading of their beliefs," The vastayan sneered, tossing her a small bracelet whose beads were stained with blood - it was too large for any adult. "Those rats will invade all they can, burrowing into the children you swear to protect and taint their minds. Kayn is one exception, perhaps his blood was purified by the Spirit, but the rest of them? Their only use being placed upon our soil is to be ground into fertilizer, to let any of them escape is a mockery of the thousands of Ionians who have perished. Each Ionian is worth at least 3 of those pests."
— @witchcraftandburialdirt
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Another might recoil at the contempt that drips from every word, that an entire people would be described as a disease. Irelia does not. She listens, silent while the vastaya speaks, catches the small bracelet he throws her way. Blue eyes study the bloodstained beads, fingers running over each of them; this time, the impassiveness is more disguise than reflection, an odd sense of uneasiness settling on her stomach. He needed not to finish his speech for the dancer to know the lesson he tried to impart to her, and still, the dancer does not cut him off.
Her gaze returns to Haruko at the mention of Kayn. Was that truly what he believed? That the assassin alone had been chosen by the Spirit itself, and the taint of being Noxian was thus cleansed? Irelia knows better than to be as skeptical now as she was as a child, doubtful of the many ways people affirmed the Spirit to manifest, and yet that seems a farfetched notion. Zed was likely more responsible for ridding Kayn of Noxian influence than spiritual intervention.
True enough that, whatever he had been born, Kayn was Ionian now; but was he the sole exception? Couldn't there be others in whom the Noxian taint had not taken root, its poison not yet killing anything human in them?
Could she kill a child desperately trying to survive, abandoned by that nation of monsters, when that was exactly what had been done to him?
And yet she listens, not entirely dismissive of what the vastaya says. A mockery of the lives taken by Noxians, Haruko affirms, and indeed, what mercy had been shown to their people, slaughtered in their homes, most of them incapable of fighting back? What mercy had they offered to Ionian children even outside the battlefield?
Irelia thinks of Ruu, then, and the thought alone is a cold stab in an old wound, unhealed and festering. She had never seen her younger brother dead, had seen none of the bodies, only her family's graves, one of them so small she wouldn't have fit in it even at eleven. It wasn't always like that in her nightmares; those often painted bloodier pictures, a mix of truth and illusion based on the carnage she knew their enemies to be capable of. Unlike to be far from the truth. She hadn't seen what they did to Ruu, but she had seen plenty of other children slaughtered.
Her brother was among some of the youngest victims the empire had made in her homeland, nevertheless. Ruu had been barely four. They slaughtered him all the same, as if a four-year-old boy could be a threat to several armed soldiers. It was never about how much of a threat they were, though. It was about the only language the monsters understood: power, and exerting it through intimidation, strength and violence.
Irelia thinks of Ruu, and Haru's words do not sound as harsh as initially perceived. Her grip on the bracelet, tightened without noticing, relaxes then. "There is no comparison to be made between Ionian lives and theirs," Agreement comes easy; the Noxians have no worth to her, as she knows they do not have to the Spirit. The First Lands themselves fought them back, often cruelly. Honor and respect are for the beings who deserve it; the only thing the tyrants would have from her is contempt, venom tinging her every word. "Each person, creature and plant, each spirit and living being that inhabits our land is worth infinitely more than all the invaders combined."
And yet.
While the idea of harming children always made her recoil, those serving the empire as its soldiers and spies and saboteurs would not have been met with mercy, should she come across them. Not before, at least. The line seems blurrier now, knowing at some point Kayn had been one of their child soldiers, knowing what he was now. Irelia is uncertain she would ever be capable of extending kindness to any Noxian, but she hesitates to sentence all of them to death without second thought, the very weakness the vastaya warns her against.
"Blood and birth are not what makes them monsters, though. There are plenty among their ranks not Noxian born, some of the worst, even — the Hand of Noxus is from one of their annexed territories, and there's arguably no better example of Noxian brutality." Darius was almost as infamous as Swain himself, and both were part of the Trifarix that ruled the empire and exemplified their beliefs. Loathing colors her tone, the mere thought one would embrace their barbaric ideals after having their own land taken by the tyrants stomach-turning. They are no more deserving of mercy than those born Noxian. They are worse, in a way; at some point, they actively chose to leave behind what they were and embrace the empire and what it means, to bow their heads and serve the invaders.
"Everywhere Noxus takes root is tainted, and its disease kills anything that might have made their soldiers people, once. Children are not immune to it by virtue of being children, some of them serving in their armies most willingly, dreaming of being like those responsible for the slaughter," This she concedes, having witnessed the wickedness even their young were capable of firsthand. They're not all innocent; Noxian brutality isn't reserved for their enemies alone, and what the empire does not destroy, it corrupts. "Not all of them, though. Not all of them are irrevocably infected." Kayn wasn't. "Just like a Noxian needs not to have been born that to be one of them, birth alone doesn't make them Noxian."
"Don't get me wrong — anyone who threatens our land and our people will be swiftly cut down, regardless of age," A cold statement to some, perhaps, but one she means entirely. Ionia and Her people mattered more than any notion of mercy toward Noxians (And if it seemed unfair to turn her blades against those who could not fight her back on equal grounds, what of it? Noxian cruelty had honed her edges, Noxian violence demanded her to learn to fight on uneven grounds. How many of her people never had a chance against their attackers?). "But some of them could have that blight stripped away before it destroys what humanity they have left."
"Unlike most seem to have by now, I have not forgotten what Noxus did — what it still tries to do. Nor have I forgotten the cost of peace, or the blood debt they could never hope to repay," No number of dead Noxians would make up for the Ionian lives lost. Sparing Noxian children would never be an option if the choice was between them and her people. "I simply think rooting out the active threats first seems a more dire priority than hunting down children for what they might eventually become."
#irelia all throughout this reply just.#'yes i hear you. yes they deserve no mercy. /but/. but. kayn. kayn isn't a noxian even though he was a child soldier'#akjsdnfkjasnf#she is. struggling. i don't think she likes killing children ever and that they're the only ones that might give her pause#but i also think she's. not really above it if she's facing any who have already really embraced the empire#or who seem like they have#is she ultimately pointing toward the rest of the noxians bc there's no dilemma involved when it comes to killing them#bc she doesn't want to or know how to deal with those conflicting feelings? perhaps#kjsanfkjn#but yeah i think ultimately the way she sees it#it's not that someone is born noxian its more what noxus turns them into#they're not people not bc they weren't born people but bc the empire killed everything that would make them people#i don't think she'd be kind towards children really#like. you know the cinematic w akali and shen?#would irelia risk herself to save a noxian child who blatantly disrespected the land? not really#but i think she might. spare children both bc she does hesitate to kill children#and bc. kayn and his past definitely impact how she looks at this specific topic#anyway........................#i love this thanks for the ask eggy mwah#i think most of the time irelia is just 🤝 haru#and maybe that's part of why she's so. willing to listen#while he's advocating slaughtering little noxians KAJSDNFKJFDN#but i also think even if she hesitates it's still. very telling that she's not horrified at what he's saying :/#love when i get to show she can be pretty awful and fucked up too lmao#c':#» in character — ⌜the blade dancer.⌟#witchcraftandburialdirt
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alliepsmithh · 6 months
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israel posted a video of them giving water bottles to palestinians on a beach, then destroyed their luggage and shot at them after they stopped recording.
israel posted a photo of one of their soldiers "assisting" with an elderly man, then they shot him twice in the back and killed him.
in 2015, the idf posted pr photos of an israeli soldier giving water to an elderly palestinian woman, only for them to execute her after the photo was taken.
in 2005, an idf soldier emptied his rifle into a 13-year-old palestinian schoolgirl. he said he would have done the same thing if she was 3-years-old. he was acquitted of all charged.
israel claimed that hamas beheaded 40 israeli babies and then a month later cut off power to a palestinian hospital where premature babies were on incubators.
israel bombed a group of children collecting rainwater.
israel shot and killed two palestinian children playing with their scooter.
israel shot a hard of hearing girl in the face with a stun grenade and broke her jaw.
israel is using bombs with blades that are designed to cause maximum damage to the person in range.
israel forced medical workers at al-Nasr medical center to leave babies in incubators in order to evacuate the hospital they were bombing.
israel turned off power to hospitals in palestine, forcing nurses and doctors to use their phone flashlights when treating patients.
israel raised their flag over Al Shifa hospital.
israel has blown up the chambers of the palestinian legislative council.
israel targeted a "suspicious vehicle containing several terrorists”, meanwhile the only people in the car were three girls, ages 10, 12, and 14, their grandmother, and their mother. the only survivor was the three girls' mother.
israel planted a copy of mein kampf in a children's bedroom in a gazan house they claim hamas was hiding in.
israel poured fake blood onto the floor of an israeli child's bedroom and claimed hamas killed them.
israeli soldiers posted a video of them dancing on gazan graves.
israel posted a video showing a calendar in a palestinian children's hospital was a hamas guard list because it was written in arabic.
israel was using white phosphorus on hospitals.
israel bombed a refugee camp.
israel has burned olive trees in palestine.
israel has put cement into the water supply of palestine.
israel claimed that they found tunnels under Al Shifa hospital, only for it to be exposed that those tunnels are actually in sweden.
israel built a bunker and command room under Al Shifa hospital in 1983, only for them to now say that they are hamas tunnels.
israeli police arrested an israeli high school teacher, who posted on facebook expressing sympathy with palestinian civilians who have been killed.
israeli soldiers filmed themselves throwing a stun grenade into a palestinian mosque.
we are witnessing a genocide in real time framed under the guise of stopping hamas. israel has been terrorizing palestine for as long as israel has existed, but their access to technology and social media has made it much easier to fool people into supporting them.
meanwhile, noah schnapp is posting that zionism is sexy and celebrities are standing with israel. just absolutely twisted shit.
edit: for those who would like sources, my twitter is alliiesmith. i have retweeted everything i’ve mentioned. i apologize for not providing this sooner
edit 2: i’ve had some people in the replies and reposts pointing out that linking my twitter seems like promotion. i just wanted to clear up that that was not my intention. i’ve been retweeting resources and news much faster than i’m able to add to this post, and i thought that my twitter profile could be something of a hub for information. i don’t care if you follow me, but i think scrolling through and seeing what i’ve retweeted could be helpful.
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calder · 6 months
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Released in 2010, Obsidian Entertainment's Fallout: New Vegas actively concerns itself with the realities of gay existence, and is widely recognized as a noteworthy work of queer science fiction. New Vegas extensively examines social attitudes towards homosexuality among the game's major factions, and primarily conveys this lore through gay and bisexual characters describing their own experiences. It also allowed the player to mechanically set the Courier's sexual orientation. By taking both available perks, the player character can be bisexual. By choosing neither, the player can opt out of seeing flirtatious dialogue options.
Uniquely, Fallout: New Vegas explores homosexuality in the context of wasteland societies, and touches upon related issues. The core theme of New Vegas is that the desire to recreate the past is driven by irrational nostalgia, and any endeavor to manifest past glory is dangerous and doomed. The social issue of homophobia is used as a demonstrative example. The resurrection of corporate and military power structures presents new avenues for Old World problems such as institutional homophobia to reemerge. One of the many issues that divide the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion is the latter's open persecution of gay people. The NCR is described as tolerant and even accepting of same-sex relationships, though acceptance tends to fall off the further one moves away from the developed, urbanized core of New California. In recent years, the Republic's rapid economic transformation has led to an unforeseen erosion of the humanitarian ideals which it was founded to serve. In practice, to recreate America was to take on its shortcomings and its sins. As subsistence scavenging has dried up, the people of the NCR increasingly turn to wage labor, entrepreneurial venture, or military enlistment to keep their families fed. Meanwhile, their government enacts morally corrosive imperialism (narrative verbiage), their dominion expanding indefinitely as their infrastructure crumbles from within. This has led to a profit-based imperial monoculture which must conquer, consume, and coerce to perpetuate. As personal politics and service labor grow in importance, people find themselves more inclined to present as "normal" in the interest of financial stability and political expedience. A loading screen visualizes this culture of artificial social normalcy: the portrait of President Aradesh on the NCR 5$ bill neglects to depict his unibrow, earring, and facial scarification, overall portraying the once-chieftain so cleanly-cut as to be unrecognizable at first glance. He also appears to be wearing a collared shirt or suit as opposed to the robe he wore in Fallout.
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In the Legion, Caesar has mandated that every legionnaire take a wife and produce children, citing high infant mortality rates and the constant need for soldiers, and going as far as instituting child quotas. He treats human beings as a resource to be exploited for war. Ostensibly in this aim homosexuality has been declared a capital offense punishable by death. Historically, routine demonstrations of violence towards women and gay people are a deliberate feature of fascist societies, the only logical cultural conclusion of a government devoted entirely to war and control. In Forlorn Hope letter 9, an NCR soldier wrote wrote the following to his boyfriend:
Dearest Andrew, Writing this seems pretty morbid, but tomorrow we march into the no man's land between our camp and Nelson, which is crawling with Legion. The Major insisted I write this damn "if you get this, I'm dead" letter so here it is. What a crock. I have the luck of the devil and your love on my side, so I'll be home soon. Keep the porch light on for me. We'll party in New Vegas when I get back. I love you. —Devin
Devin believed he would prevail over the Legion because his love would keep him safe. He was found dying or dead on the battlefield, the letter was found on his body. In a post-release patch, the injured soldiers were removed from the battlefield for performance reasons, and never re-implemented. Driven largely in reaction to the Legion's hyper-masculine posturing and misogyny, rumors persist across the Mojave that gay male relationships are not only common within the Legion, but condoned. These rumors are repeated commonly in NCR society. A closeted NCR Major mentions that the Legion is "a little more... forgiving" about close male "friendships," speaking in a hushed tone to avoid suspicion. At the same outpost, the player can encounter Cass, a bisexual civilian woman. She may flirt with a male Courier, who may imply they are gay, prompting her to imply gay men are more common in the Legion. Even as gay men fight and die in the name of love under his command, NCR General Oliver may remark to Courier Six at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam: "If you think after all that's happened, I'm going to grab my ankles and take it like the Legion..."
This writing pertains to institutionalized homophobia which manifests in practice though power structures and social interactions without being written into law. Simply put, in his derogatory remark, the general expresses to his army that military surrender is gay, much like their gay enemy. From the brevity and bluntness of this remark, it's clear that this sentiment is already well understood among his ranks. Logically, to project strength in the eyes of such a leader, one might also project homophobia by scrutinizing and harassing one's peers and subordinates. In this atmosphere, the expression of homophobia is not only normalized, but materially incentivized. For the ambitious, it becomes a tool, and a way of casting shame upon rivals. For the closeted, homophobia becomes a survival tactic, hoping to throw scrutiny off oneself. This is why Major Knight is immediately frightened when a male Courier flirts with him. He is so profoundly alienated that he romanticizes life as a gay man under the Legion. The Legion punish homosexuality with death, and yet Knight characterizes them as more "forgiving" than the NCR. Through these apparently disparate events, the audience can trace how a distorted perception of gay people emerges among insecure men in a military environment, and subsequently becomes ingrained in the corresponding civilian culture. At the 188 Trading Post, a lesbian from the Brotherhood of Steel named Veronica also wryly remarks that she believes legionaries have gay sex about as often as straight sex. She also notes that this only applies to men, as women have no rights whatsoever in Legion society. In this aside, she conveys a pre-existing frustration with lesbophobic social norms. Veronica also mentions that the people of her bunker would rather she remain on the surface. The Mojave Brotherhood of Steel has no official policy prohibiting homosexuality, but an implicit attitude among its dominant members that their limited numbers require everyone to have children to avoid extinction. Numerically, this may seem logical on the surface, given their reluctance to recruit outsiders. However, given their tiny population, this is an ineffective countermeasure, as they do not have nearly enough members to maintain genetic diversity for more than a few generations. This approach is not universally supported by all family units within the Brotherhood, but every individual is ultimately at the mercy of the elder. Veronica was in a lesbian relationship, but they were quietly separated by Elder Elijah, due to the dominant culture of enforcing heterosexual pairing among their population.
Caesar's law has not ended homosexuality within his domain. Despite the obvious risks, some legionaries have continued to pursue relationships behind closed doors, especially given their access to slaves. So long as members complete their societal obligations and fulfill the child quotas, they are able to pursue romance with other men in secret. Homosexual relationships in the faction are noted as being relatively equal compared to the average Legion husband and wife, in a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" sort of open secret policy. Gay legionaries must always make sure to keep their activities hidden. A centurion was once almost caught fraternizing with the teenage boy he had chosen to tend his tent. Despite previous "romantic" intentions, he quickly resolved to dispose of the slave to dispel suspicion. Had they been caught together, the centurion would have been charged with homosexuality and sentenced to death. This story is only known because the enslaved young man, Jimmy, managed to escape execution. Further illustrating the cruelty intrinsic to Legion governance, it's stated that homosexuality was the crime, and not the rape of a young slave; in fact, it seems Jimmy was forced to contribute to the child quota despite being a gay teenager, and the experience left him traumatized. He has resolved to never have sex with another woman, as the very notion triggers memories which fill him with disgust, and (in his own words) makes him feel like a slave all over again. The Strip is indifferent to gay people, viewing them as another opportunity to make caps. Both the Gomorrah and the Atomic Wrangler are interested in maximizing profits, and their prostitution services cater to clients regardless of their orientation. The openly gay Jimmy works at nearby Casa Madrid, but there is some tension among his peers due to his co-worker Maude's blatant homophobia. She supposes he's "okay, for one of those," and if propositioned by a female Courier, Maude will direct them to Sweetie for such "perverted" services. Pretty Sarah must regularly intervene to keep the peace among her staff.
The Followers of the Apocalypse, well-read punks who seek to embody healing through anarchistic values, are not concerned with gender. Most are openly and casually sexually active. Upon meeting Courier Six, Arcade Gannon offhandedly makes his gayness known, unprompted. The audience must face the fact that Arcade's apprehension of the Legion is far from abstract; under Legion law, he would be put to death. One possible ending gives further insight into Caesar's hypocrisy: should the player sell Arcade into slavery and leave Caesar alive, he will keep Arcade as a personal physician and philosophical advisor. They intellectually spar at length, and Caesar grows singularly fond of him. Accordingly, Arcade imitates the historic suicide of Cato the Younger by disemboweling himself. The Legion's remaining medics attempted to save his life, but none were Arcade's equal. Caesar understood his doctor's final gesture of contempt, and mourned him for months.
New Vegas ventures further into themes of healing from the trauma of sexual violence, from the perspective of a lesbian character. Corporal Betsy, an NCR sharpshooter, is a rape survivor, and suffers with PTSD from the incident. Her unprocessed trauma has manifested as a maladaptive tendency to aggressively and explicitly proposition the women she encounters, in an effort to reassert a sense of control. This defensive hypersexual impulse has negatively impacted her ability to connect with other women. A male superior officer notes that her behavior is inappropriate for anyone of her stature, but abstains from disciplining her out of sincere concern for her mental health. The Courier can help her begin to recognize these problems, and convince her to seek treatment from Doctor Usanagi at the New Vegas medical clinic, which proves helpful to her as she processes and heals from her trauma.
In Old World Blues, the Think Tank are five floating brains in jars who express themselves by waving robotic arms bearing screens depicting facial features. Before the War, they were federal scientists who committed crimes against humanity in the name of weapons development. Each is stuck in some sort of neuro-bionic feedback loop which prevents them from moving forward with their projects, mentally binding them to their central laboratory. Walking through their homes at Higgs Village, it's clear each was deeply neurotic before they were transformed into floating brains. Now without bodies, they attempt to maintain the illusion that they are exempt from sexuality as purely mental beings, but each displays obvious interest in the human form. They have codified this shaming with the term "formography." Most of the men are obsessively defensive over their complete disinterest in penises, which they talk about constantly. However, the shameless Dr. Dala shows overwhelming interest in observing and recording any and all human functions. Already androgynous in her pre-War life, Dala has taken to self-identifying as a "gender neutral entity" (though she is not known to use they/them pronouns). Regardless of the Courier's gender, they may coquettishly scratch themselves, clear their throat, and stretch in front of Dala until her biomed gel decoagulates. Dr. 8 also responds positively to graphic masturbation advice from Couriers of either gender. The X-8 research facility is ostensibly a massive immersive shrine to Doctor Borous's hatred of Richie "Ball-Lover" Marcus, a long-dead child who bullied Borous centuries ago. He also clings to his resentment of one Betsy Bright, who refused to attend a dance with him, supposedly so she could "go smoke with RICHIE MARCUS." Clearly arrested in development, Borous has literally built a temple to the fantasy of torturing his adolescent romantic rival and feeding him to dogs. His frozen, static characterization of the jock Richie Marcus as a "pinko-commie" who "likes balls" reflects the shallowness, pettiness, and overall misanthropy underlying his patriotic identity. It remains apparent throughout Old World Blues that the Think Tank are all chronically sexually repressed, which is inseparable from the values of the violent and judgmental pre-War culture which created them. With time and isolation, this ingrained repression has manifested as various intense and deranged psychosexual behaviors, including rage-fueled homophobia, voyeurism, and the obsessive performance of puritanical pretense.
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“Although I’ve been out for a very long time, I made a conscious effort to be out with relation to this project, as I wanted to be visible as a lesbian in the game industry. New Vegas itself is, I think, one of (if not the) best games out there in how we treat homosexuality – and all of that is very intentional.”
“If my work on FNV, if my being out has helped even one gay person, then I have succeeded.” — Tess “Obsidian’s Gay Cowgirl” Treadwell
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written (with help from other editors) for fallout.fandom.com/wiki/LGBT_representation_in_the_Fallout_series criticism welcome
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4giorno · 1 year
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okay ive calmed down now after sleeping but still the kids parents should give yoimiya a very angry talking to and never let her near them again
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breadbrobin · 5 months
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“doc”
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]
i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)
(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)
warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think
word count: 1.2k
____________________
you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.
but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.
children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.
scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.
“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”
“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”
“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”
he really was ridiculous.
either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.
“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”
“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.
you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”
the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“
“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”
he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“
“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”
“but—“
“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”
“y/n—“
“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”
“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”
you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”
cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.
“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.
he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”
you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”
he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”
you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”
he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”
“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.
“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”
you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”
he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”
you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.
luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.
every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.
after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”
“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”
“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”
“luke’s not my boyfriend.”
“i never said who it was.”
“well, it was pretty obvious—“
“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.
you didn’t even know where he was.
camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.
you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.
“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.
your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”
he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”
“didn’t stop you before.”
there was a silence.
then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”
your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”
“you missed me.”
“i did not miss you.”
he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”
you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”
“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”
you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”
“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”
“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.
before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.
you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“
“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”
“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”
“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”
his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.
you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.
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sophia-zofia · 6 months
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Here’s a personal story about Palestinian child prisoners: - In 2012, I was arrested in Hebron while participating in a march to open Shuhada street, which was a main market street for Palestinians until the Israeli military shut it down, and made it for Israeli settlers only. It’s part of the area @JamaalBowmanNY visited. - Handcuffed and blinded by pepper spray, and thrown in the back of an Israeli humvee after my head was slammed against it, the soldiers drive off. They suddenly stop, run out, and all I hear is a child screaming and crying. - This child is then thrown on top of me, and is handcuffed. I ask him his age, he said 13. I asked him what happened, he says he was walking to his sister’s house and they just stopped and picked him up. He’s in panic mode crying “my sister cooked lunch for me, she’ll be terrified if I’m lost”. I tell him not to worry, we’ll make it out and give him the basic tips: You have a right to remain silent, don’t say anything without a lawyer…etc. - We get to the Israeli military outpost, we’re dragged out of the humvee. The kid’s terrified, telling them not to blind him (He thought I was blinded because of the pepper spray, I couldn’t open my eyes). - The smack the kid around and tell him to shut up. - We wait a bit, then kid is called in for interrogation. - The Israeli military interrogator literally tells him: I’ll let you go home, you just need to confirm the guy with you led the protest and told you to throw the stones at us. - Kid says I want to call my family/lawyer. Interrogator says ok: Picks up mobile and gives it to kid. Kid puts in his mother’s number. Soldier snatches mobile. The mother answers. Soldier says: Your son is going to go to jail and if he doesn’t talk I’ll come and arrest you too. Puts it on speaker, mother is panicking. Kid starts to panic. Soldier hangs up in her face. - Soldier tells kid: I can make your family’s life hell. But if you say what I told you to say, everything will be ok. - Kid starts sobbing and says: But I don’t know this guy I just met him in the humvee when you picked me up. Sitting outside the room, I yell: Kid, stay strong, say your truth and don’t fall into his lies.
- They come and take me away. Thirty minutes later kid comes out of interrogation shaken. He says the soldier told him he’d shoot his mother. The poor child told me not to worry though, he only said the truth 🥺. - The case brought against this poor kid was stone throwing, with two soldiers “testifying” they saw him throw a stone. - He spent 3 months in prison as court hearings kept getting delayed, eventually he was advised by his lawyer to “admit” to stone throwing because that way he’d spend less time in prison because the lawyer could be able to negotiate his release in 4 months, while waiting for a ruling from Israel’s military courts could take a year. - In short, working on this issue in Palestine for 12 years, I can tell you the majority of child arrests in Palestine follow this exact pattern: - Israel wants to teach a Palestinian community a lesson, deterring people from protesting its oppression. - It targets the kids, arresting dozens - up to 700 a year. - Majority of kids get abused and interrogated. - Lawyers and kids know it’s better to “confess” even if they didn’t do the crime, as waiting for a ruling and being in uncertainty/limbo is hell. That’s why you have a 95% conviction rate. - Then the Israeli government, when challenged for the systematic abuse, comes out and says: “These kids are terrorists - they attacked our soldiers and admitted to it.” - And because the lives of Palestinian children don’t matter, the world turns a blind eye again and again and again and again.
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cryptidcasanova · 1 year
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The Depths You’ll Go
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Namor x Reader
This is a big ol’ fever dream. It’s been a while since I felt this way about a Marvel character.
Summary: The price of protecting a an advanced civilization from the rest of the world is high, but the rewards? Priceless.
Warnings: 18+ Content. Angst, cannon level violence, mutual pining. Namor is overwhelmingly protective. I’m a sucker for a happy ending.
Words: 2.5k
Dividers by the stunning @firefly-graphics​.
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You had to keep moving.
You were close to the water; you could feel it deep in your bones.
The little boy in your arms must have felt the saltwater lingering in the air. He was frantic, twisting in your hold as you rushed through the corridor. 
His blue skin was pale, and he was trying to breathe in the air you knew wouldn't sustain him.
"Just a little longer," You cradled him close, whispering reassurances in his hair. "I'm getting you out of here."
But you were biting back tears.
You never expected to be followed home by the young Talokan boy. He was so little and curious and full of love. He had hardly left your side while you watched Namor teach a sparring session. How he trained, moved, and spoke with his people made your heart swell.
And you didn't expect the raid on your home soon after you returned to the beach. You didn't stand a chance against the swat team busting down your door. The boy was the most important thing. You weren't going to let anything happen to him.
Shuri warned you to be careful. The agencies have kept an eye on you since you left Wakanda.
It was everything Namor feared. All he wanted to do was protect his people; you were the reason they were in danger.
Oh, Namor.
Your stomach ached. You wanted to scream and call out for help, but the best thing you could do was sneak around the guards and get the boy back to the water. The boy. The adored one.
Taavi.
You treasured him more than you thought possible. He was strong and curious in the water but bashful and wide-eyed above ground.
Dark hair fell against his cheeks, and his eyes drooped as you turned a corner. You cradled him close.
But you were running out of time.
And then, when you finally kicked open the metal door at the end of the hall, you cried out with joy.
You were close to the water. Closer than you thought. 
It was a sheer drop from the cliffside base into the Atlantic, and it was only then you heard the clinking of footsteps not far behind you. The guards found you.
The boy pushed out of your arms just in time and dove into the brink as the guards pulled you back. You should have jumped. And then you watched the little boy poking his head out of the water and staring up at you with a fearful expression. He didn't know what was happening. 
You cried out when the guards pointed their guns at the top of the water.
"Taavi, go. Get out of here!"
You were wrestled back into the base, frantically throwing your body toward the water. You weren't even sure if you could make the dive. But before you could slip out of their grip, something hit you hard in the back of your head.
And everything went dark.
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Your cell turned into an interrogation room. 
The soldiers wanted to know about the little blue boy, that thing. They didn’t even treat him like a child, but an experiment. They wanted to know what was in the water. About the vibranium. 
Interrogation turned from fear tactics to torture. And you were no soldier.
You were trained in the sciences, to know biology, to understand life and nature. That's why Banner recommended you go to Wakanda in the first place.
And with Talokan? You still had so much to learn. Their livelihoods and families were on the line. Hundreds of years of culture were preserved. 
And you cared about them.
You weren't going to betray their trust. That is, if Namor didn't think you already had.
His fatalist streak made you fear the worst. He was fiercely protective of his people, and the way he was around the children? Patient and compassionate. Taavi's disappearance must have caused an uproar.
You hoped he would be merciful.
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Time passed. Days passed.
You thought you would rot in that jail cell, battered and bruised, until you just drifted away one day. That they'd forget about you until it was too late. Until you were lost to the wind.
And one day, the guards were given new orders.
They all knew something was in the water. But didn't know what to look for, and they never did catch that little boy. 
If he could make his way out of their surveyed waters, the people in power were convinced something could find its way back in.
All they needed was some new bait. 
There must have been a reason why the boy was with you. You were their best bet for finding out why.
The soldiers changed. At first, it was the Americans, then the French, and the Germans, and then you couldn't tell after a while. 
The thought of all the surface countries working together made your head spin.
They waited until the tide was at its lowest. That's when they drug you out of the cell by your arms, until you were too tired to fight back. 
You were too tired to think. It felt hopeless. You were taken to a different side of the base, where paths of rocks were cut out down to the water.
And then you saw the chains. 
The guards attached arm restraints to the rocky walls, where the water kissed the land. One look at the guards was all it took, and then you knew. They wanted their intel. 
They wanted to know about Talokan, and they weren't above drowning a scientist to get it.
"Last chance, sweetheart," One of the men said, all dressed up to fight off the chill in the air. He was different from the others; you'd never seen him before. He must have been the man in charge.
Your stomach roiled in frustration.
He sauntered up to you, pulling your chin up with a firm grip. You hated his clever expression and bad breath.
"We just want to know about your little blue friend," He tormented, looking out to the water. "It's a little cold for a swim, don't you think?"
Your chest ached. But you had come so far; you couldn't hand them over. Namor would never give up like this.
You choked on a cry before taking a breath of sea air.
"He's in New York.”
The man turned around. You caught his attention.
"Come again?" He smirked, urging you to continue. The others were looking now, waiting for an answer.
"New York," You repeated tiredly. "But he turns green once in a while, not blue. Maybe you should get your eyes checked-"
You were kicked down to your knees without compunction.
"You think you're real funny, eh?” He scoffed. “String her up."
Your fate was sealed. You were gagged and bound like a worm on a hook and couldn't go crying out for help. 
And then they dragged you into the water.
The cold plunge made your teeth chatter, but there was no time to consider it. Your arms were strung against the rocky walls on either side of your shoulders. Your legs were bound and weighed down. The saltwater only came up to your waist, but you knew it wouldn't last. 
You rested your head against the wall in defeat.
And at last, you understood Namor's resentment. It pierced through years of you trying to help people and fight for the right causes. 
At the end of the day, people in power wanted to keep their knowledge, power, and strengths. They wanted it all for themselves.
The water spray against the rocks gave you an excuse to cry, to mourn the life you couldn't live. 
You should have told Namor the truth. You stayed in Talokan to learn, but it was more than that. As time went on, your trips into the sea lost focus. You were enamored by the Talokan people and how their lives were completely untouched by the outside world. 
They were considerate and humble. They cared for one another.
Namor cared for them, for all of them. His icy demeanor was an act. He could talk strategy with his advisors and turn around to celebrate a new baby in their city. He could help by collecting food and scouting the perimeter of their sanctuary. It was no wonder why people worshipped him. 
And his animosity towards outsiders didn't touch you. As much as he resented the world above, it was as though he wanted to show just how far they had come. They were a prosperous and independent nation. Completely indigenous. It was breathtaking.
It was hard not to swoon over him. You should have told Namor how you felt sooner.
Shuri could see it. M'Baku could see it. Hell, you were sure Namora could tell how you felt for their leader. But you could keep them safe. 
They were the best warriors you had ever seen, and now it was your turn to protect them.
When the water cupped around your shoulders, you were pulled away from your thoughts. It was much colder than you thought. Your arms were shaking, and your fingers were numb. 
The water was ruthless against the scrapes and cuts along your body. The weight was doing its job. It was keeping you from being buoyant. You swore you could feel something against your legs and panicked, pulling yourself up as best you could.
But the next wave came at you fast, making you choke on the gag in your mouth. You were running out of time.
The soldiers were looking out over the water with their guns ready, waiting for the call. 
They were waiting to find something in the water. But the night was quiet.
In the last attempt to rectify yourself, you begged for his forgiveness. Namor let you into his home and world, and you almost ruined it. Your heart was hammering as the wave receded, and your pleas were lost behind your water-soaked gag.
You'd never see him again. You'd never hear the low timber of his words or see the passion in his eyes. Your eyes were squeezed shut.
Your heart was breaking and you couldn't stop it. 
K’uk’ulkan
The water was rising, but all you could see was his profile. You could remember the curve of his nose and how his eyebrows moved when he told a story.
K’uk’ulkan
Another wave hit hard, and you choked on the icy water. But you could still see Namor guiding you through his sanctuary, pointing to the paintings on the walls.
K’uk’ulkan
The next wave didn't recede as far as you hoped. Another wave struck you, but you could still see him. You could smell the salt on his skin and hear how his necklaces moved when he walked. You could almost hear his voice. 
He was - the bubble burst.
You couldn't breathe. 
Your body was on auto pilot, thrashing and kicking wildly. Your body was fighting off the water that burned in your chest. It surrounded you in a coccon, murky and frothing against the rocks. 
But you weren't as alone as you thought.
You couldn't feel the little grouping of octopuses at your feet trying to find a way to undo your chains.
You couldn't hear the soft singing above the water, urging soldiers into the brine.
And Namor - you couldn't see the carnage. 
You couldn't see the rage and anguish on his face as he barreled through the base. Their water explosives shook the ground. You couldn't have known he was scouring the ocean for you.
Taavi made it home because of you. 
You protected the little boy like he was your own, no matter the cost, and Namor couldn't see past it. You put your life on the line for them. It was his turn to serve you. 
His chest ached with some long-lost realization, something he never dared to put into words but was forced to face. His heart beat a little faster when you were around. His focus swayed. He cared about you most ardently.
You were his to protect.
After all the time he had to dance around it, humbly flaunting his world to an outsider, Namor finally understood. The moment he let you see his world, he knew; he would protect you. 
The way he flew into the water and pulled the chains away from the rock was terrifying. 
His blood boiled as your hands fell limp into the water. He tugged the gag away from your face and cradled you above the water’s surface. 
But you weren't breathing. 
There was too much water in your lungs. Your heartbeat was faint, straining against your ribcage. 
In a moment of hesitation, Namor pulled you from the water and up the rocky shore. The singing stopped. The chaos stopped. 
And all eyes were on K'uk'ulkan. 
The sea was claiming you for itself, but Namor wasn't going to give you up so easily. His expression welled with power, even when his jaw locked with uncertainty. 
He needed to get the water out of your lungs. You needed air. 
His hand spread over your heart before pressing down, the ridges of his palm digging into your skin. A command left his lips that was sharper than any blade. 
"You cannot have her."
He began chanting in his native tongue, commanding the seas. 
"Her heart beats for my people. It beats for me," He realized. "You cannot have her."
A rush of wind swept through the sky. And the sea, fearful of his wrath, receded from the shore. 
His other hand cupped your face, leaning in with intention. He had never been so close, but it made perfect sense now. It felt important, felt right.
There was another way. 
His eyes lit up. And when he leaned in to kiss you, it was met with lifetimes of bottled-up affection. Slow and intentional, he poured out his power. It was his breath, a kiss from a god. 
The unspoken command broke the spell. 
When Namor pulled back, your body lurched up with a frightful cough. 
The sting of saltwater burned in your throat. Your hands were clammy, reaching out to hold on tight. Your chest ached, and your eyes burned as you tried to move. It was disorienting. 
And then you heard it; the lull of your voice being called out, followed by a string of native words you couldn't understand.
Then you felt it; a strong hand covering yours, warmer and firmer than your own. He wasn't going to let you go.
And you saw it, saw him. Namor looked down at you like you could have hung all the stars in the sky. He was careful, like you could break under his stare. 
But he brushed the tears out of your eyes. You didn't even realize you were crying.
Namor. 
He had more love in his heart than anyone gave him credit for. He deserved the world. 
And when he pulled you up into his arms, you held on tight. 
Namor wanted to burn the world down. He wanted to fight, but for a moment it was stolen by the way you called his name. It was the sweetest sound he ever heard.
He wasn't going to let anything else happen to you. Because while your heart beat for his people, his heart was beating for you.
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hritika13-tamboli · 1 month
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Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 2...
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Series :
Day by day @hansolmates
Summary : a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together
Aim for the heart @writemywaytoyourheart
Summary : Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.
Bedeviled @writemywaytoyourheart
Summary : Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength. Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it.  Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy... Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much. Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.
Animal : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 @cutaepatootie
Summary : The girl looked at the man who was in his 60s , lying on the hospital bed fighting for his life, he was trying to talk with her “I don’t want to go without telling something.” The girl frown looking at the old man “What do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” “I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.” “About her?” the girl frowns. Maybe his daughter? His sister? The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving. “Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”
Into the woods @junqkook
Summary : getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.
One-shot :
The habits of the broken heart @softykooky
Summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak.  alternatively, “You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”
Something in the heir @hisunshiine
Summary : The king of your empire will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, a foreign enemy, and his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. One of the seven, Jeon Jungkook, with his dark eyes and easy smile, is someone you long for. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land...but all he wants is you.
Miracle of the season @cybrsan
Summary : Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
Amortentia @jungkxook
Summary : jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.
Black magic   @hansolmates
Summary : a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?
(Un)crushed    @hansolmates
Summary : you’ve liked jungkook for the longest time, but you believe it’s time to cut the cord—literally 
What's wrong?  @oddinary4bts
Summary : Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺
High demand @bunnyhugs77
Summary : modern day Romeo and Juliet
Coin toss @yoondoze
Summary : you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.
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ave661 · 6 months
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Hiiiiiii 👋😙
With all the lovely dad!Ghost renders you graced us with, can i ask if you have any headcanons for them? Can never get enough of Ghost having a family he never got to have as a kid. I just wanna hug him frfr okay I'm done babbling 😭🫶🫶🤍
Helloooo! ♥ Ok, so this is interesting ask! Some of my renders are random, but some have a story
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Simon forgot to take off his balaclava. Child saw it on him and by the time he realized, it was already too late. He expected baby to cry, be afraid of him and not recognize their dad, but when they didn't and even got interested, he got emotional. Maybe he realized that Ghost wasn't just a soldier and even he became a father - not just Simon.
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He wanted to introduce his baby to "Ghost". Wants little one not to be afraid of him and to know what their father does for a living
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I imagine him as a dad who likes to chill with his kid in living room. Maybe he turns something on TV and waits for them to fall asleep, and when they do, he closes his eyes for a moment and eventually they both end up snoring
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Riley's first introduction to his baby. Simon was afraid of dog's reaction, but baby wanted to give Riley a toy. They definitely liked each other and became friends.
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These are either before or after mission - last hug or a warm hello. Maybe his partner wanted to surprise him and came to the base with their baby to welcome him?
Now some of my random dad!Ghost canons! >.<
10000000000% girl dad
he certainly never planned to have children, due to his own traumas and dangerous job, so having them was by an accident for sure.
feeling first kick, seeing a baby bump or ultrasound made something "click" in him
once he becomes a father, he is overprotective and wants to provide child with a safe and calm environment, which he never had
delicate and distant at the beginning. He doesn't think he deserves a family, and if he does have one, he's afraid of losing it.
he is action and giving type of person. A new swing in the garden? Installed in a few hours. Repair a broken toy or paint walls in new color? Done. Take baby to the doctor? You can count on him at any time. This is his love language.
grumpy type with a dad humor. Always has a lame joke up his sleeve
at the same time, as the child grows up, he also learns what it means to show love for them as a father. So only with time he starts to feel comfortable hugging his baby, playing with them, etc.
once he gets it, oh boy, he throws this kid all over the place while playing. Yes, he is the type of father who throws his child on the mattress and pretends to play WWE
have you seen this photo of Chris Hemsworth where he holds his kid by leg on a beach? Yes, this is Simon
or wraps them up like a burrito in a blanket and watch them struggle with smile on his face. The best way to tire them out, so it's a win for everyone if they fall asleep faster!
but he also likes to watch cartoons with them and cuddle (falls asleep after a few minutes)
he does THIS a lot
his kid/s definitely color his tattoos. And no, he doesn't wash them off. He's very proud of them. Definitely shows them to Soap.
seeing blood during a mission in his life was nothing compared to changing baby's diaper. Avoids it like the plague.
definitely did a fake tea party once. Little plastic chair broke under his weight.
has a lot of vids and pics on his phone of every possible situation of what his child is doing - sleeps, eats, talks, plays, smiles.... Once in a while shows them to 141
but he definitely likes photos where baby is sleeping the most. Because then he sees their calm expression and it gives him a sense of peace and fulfillment
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mylittleredgirl · 1 month
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i can't stop chewing on the MASH time loop situation. my star trek brain will not turn off. there is definitely some kind of temporal anomaly at play, but it's not really a time loop in the traditional sense.
effects carry over from loop to loop. they appear to age. the same wounded soldiers appear on the table three times, but the scars of past surgeries are still there. a character leaves or dies and is gone from the mash forever; their replacement arrives near the end of the war and is still there at the beginning. the dates overlap, yet their presence is sequential. the other characters remember all of them.
how far does this effect extend? if it's summer again at mash, is it summer in tokyo? is it summer in maine? if BJ is in korea two years before he arrived, who's in residency in california, marrying his wife, conceiving his child?
their family trees at home deform—different wives, different children, loved ones alternately dead and alive and never born. those inside are oblivious to what they've lost. hawkeye remembers trapper, but not his sister. what happens in korea persists; the world outside is a fragile suggestion. he tells a soldier that men at the front can't see the whole war, only the other guys dug in with them on their one little hill.
for a deep space nine fan this is irresistible. hawkeye says, wars end, but war is forever. kira asks, if the past has changed, why do i still remember it? sisko never left that ship. time itself is warped by trauma. it is not linear. you exist here. you choose to exist here.
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buckyalpine · 11 months
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Spicy Snacks
Bucky x reader, Steve 
Warnings: 2 high super soldiers who get into your stash of spicy snacks, fluffff 
“Dear god” 
You weren’t sure what it was you were going to walk into when you heard a ruckus in the kitchen but it was everything but this. Literally anything. The last time you’d seen such a mess was when Peter thought it’d be a good idea to babysit Morgan alone. Even that was salvageable. You should’ve known how bad it would be, given the trail of crumbs you followed from your drawer to the kitchen, but still. 
This was something else...
There were snacks strewn about left, right and center. Bags of chips and candy littering every inch of the counter tops. 
But what truly topped it all were the two massive super soldiers sitting cross cross apple sauce on top of the kitchen island, giggling like school children with their hands, literally in the cookie jar. 
“Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar” Steve sang to himself while stuffing a chocolate chip one into his mouth, practically swallowing it whole. 
“Steve stole the cookie from the cookie jar” Bucky snickered, taking the jar for himself and scarfing them down two at a time. 
“Who me?”
“Yes you!”
“Not me!”
“Then who?” 
“What are you two idiots doing” Your voice broke them away from their nursery rhyme, staring at your boyfriend first before turning to his bestfriend, the both of them trying to hide the jar behind their backs. 
“Nothing’ y/n” Steve gave you a dopey grin, his baby blue eyes glazed like donuts, snickering at his bestfriend attempting to stab an apple juice box with the straw.
“S’too hard!!” Bucky whined, sticking his tongue out in concentration, eyes wide, trying to get his straw in to no avail, looking back up to you for help. He gave you his most innocent puppy pout hoping you’d help him, sticking his hands out for you to take his juice. 
“Bucky get down” You huffed, trying to hide your smile when he clambered down like an admonished child with his head hung. You rolled your eyes, pushing the straw and giving it back to him, shaking your head at the grin he gave you, whispering a shy thank you. 
“Ooooooo you like herrrrrr” Steve howled, now kicking his feet, letting them hang off the counter while Bucky blushed, peeking at you through his lashes. “BUCKY HAS A CRUSH” 
“Nooooo” He drawled out, taking a long sip from his juice box. 
“We’ve been dating for 2 years you dork” You watched his cheeks redden more, which only made him more adorable but you weren’t sure how much more nonsense was going to ensue when the both of them were higher than kites. 
“She’s my girlfriend” Bucky giggled at the last word, now struggling with a new box while Steve’s eyes lit up, a classic God awful captain America plan had bean to manifest itself. He slipped off the counter, the effects of the gummies and whatever else he’d swallowed had knocked his agility off its rockers; he moved with the grace of a donkey. 
“Where are you going” you stopped him before he could sneak off, your boyfriend looking equally guilty. 
“Noooowhere” Steve shrugged but you gave him a pointed look while Bucky flailed his hands, hoping to silently communicate they were not about to do something idiotic. 
“Sit down. Finish your snacks and then you both need to go take a nap” You felt like you were talking to toddlers, not bothering to add they had to clean their mess because you were sure that would only end in more chaos. 
“But we were gonna go flying with Sam’s wings!” 
“I can’t believe I’m saying this” You muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose before speaking again, “No. You can’t just go take Sam’s wings and go flying. Now finish your juice boxes and go to bed” 
“NOOOO” Steve jumped onto Bucky, wrapping his long legs around his waist, holding onto him like a massive koala, giving you his best puppy eyes, matching his equally ridiculous best friend. “WE DON’T WANNA GO TO BED” 
“Boys....”
“Please???” Bucky pouted effortlessly holding the captain up while your face scrunched up, mentally face palming yourself.
“No. No, you cannot go flying! You’ll end up hurting yourself or breaking the wings or- for fucks sake what are you doing?!” You gawked; Steve and Bucky had stopped listening many moons ago. They were back to rummaging for food, a stray sour patch kid falling to the floor. 
“5 second rule” Bucky shrugged, bending over to pick it up, not seeing the smirk that crossed his bestfriends face. 
“Chubby dumpling” Steve whispered, giving Bucky’s ass a poke, making him yelp. Bucky stared at him like a deer in headlights while Steve cackled to himself, tossing back another packet of nerds into his mouth. You were to engrossed at the scene in front of you to notice Tony walk in, his face equally perplexed at yours. 
“What it God’s name” Tony stared at the chaos that was taking place with you in the middle, “Do I even want to ask?”
“They got into my stash of....snacks...” You smirked while Tony cocked an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. 
“Snacks, y/n? Really?”
“...Spicy snacks”
“Who would’ve thought this would be their downfall” He mused beside you “Oh-I think clothes are coming off-oh fuck” Tony ducked while Steve's shirt flew above his head, eyes growing wide when a pair of jeans followed.
“It’s so hot!!” Steve huffed, star fishing on the cool tile floor, arms and legs splayed out to the sides. “Soooo hottttt, n’I’m sleepy now” He yawned, stretching out like a cat before closing his eyes, a sugar crash sneaking up on them.  
“Okay, someone call for this ones bromantic partner to figure this out” Tony covered his eyes while calling for Sam, hoping to get Steve into some clothes before hauling him back to his room. “Y/n, I’m assuming you got terminator covered?” 
“Yeah, I- Oh no” you were met with your boyfriends Henley, followed by his joggers, landing on your head, squealing when you found yourself hanging off his shoulder seconds later. 
“Buck, where are we going?!” He mumbled something while making his way to the elevator in just his boxer briefs. 
“S’nap time” he mumbled sleepily, trudging with you to the bedroom and plopping down on top of you, using your chest as a pillow. “wan cuddles” 
“Mhm, then you get cuddles, baby boy” you giggled, carding your fingers through his hair, unable to stop smiling from how ridiculously adorable he was. He let out a content sigh, softly snoring moments later. You bit you lip to keep your laughs down, hearing the commotion outside your room in the hallway. 
“Steve, you need to put on pants”
“Pants are for the WEAK”
“No-Steve NO!-don’t take off your-for fucks sake” 
“THIS IS AMERICAS ASS”
“That’s America’s cock and balls” 
“Please, for the love of God, go to your room” 
“I’M GOING TO MAKE A TIKTOK” 
“Steve no”
“Steve yes”
“STEVE” 
“What’s the live feature” 
*Sounds of Steve shrieking and then a thump with continued muffled pouting*
“You’re never eating spicy anything again” 
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A Mother for a Son
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Summary: As Aemond leaves for a campaign at Storms End, he leaves his very pregnant wife struggle to bring their child into the world, suffering the consequences | Mini-Series Masterlist
Warnings: Childbirth, Death, Major Angst, tbh this is pure angst and nothing else to it I just like making myself sad, sorry
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You hissed in pain as you tried to stand up straight, one hand instinctively resting on your lower back. A deep inhale didn't help matters either, but you felt maybe it was better than trying to soldier through the tightness. One hand was clamped around the handle of the chair, feet shuffling to go to sit in front of the fire and as you slumped into the chair, finally feeling the relief and pressure off your feet, your hand rested on the large bump on your belly. The infant inside as if feeling the touch of its mother kicked back, hurting slightly but it still bought a smile to your face.
"I wish you would not take your time, little one" you muttered, eyes wandering to the crackling fire, its heat almost soothing you through your thin nightdress. These days you had no use for heavy evening dresses, the past few weeks you had been confined to your nightdress exclusively as the pregnancy progressed to the end.
Your eyes fluttered open as your felt his hand on your swollen belly, your own lifting up to hold his arm lovingly, eyes meeting his lilac one. He looked down at you with such admiration and your heart swelled with love feeling his hands rub the bump.
He was dressed in his leathers to ride, braced for the cold that the storm outside would no doubt bring. Despite this, he knelt at your side, taking your hand to bring tenderly to his lips, peppering small kisses to your fingers, your palm and eventually on your unborn child. Your first child.
Your fingers delicately rubbed across his cheek, the only sound was the fire crackling and he wanted nothing more than to just stay with you, take care of you, for he knew how much pain you were in so late into the pregnancy.
"Must you go" you ask your husband. His eye opens to meet you again, a soft, sad look on his features.
"I must" he answered sadly, seeing your response, "I wish I did not have to, especially seeing the pain you are in, gevie ābrazȳrys"
You chuff at his words, "I do not feel beautiful. I feel like I am going to burst and every time they kick it hurts tremendously" you answer. Aemond smiled and looked back at the bump,
"Iksan qrīdrughagon, gaomagon daor ōdrikagon aōha muña, zaldrītsos" he says, making you smile.
The baby seemed to respond, a small kick appearing in his direction, earning a quiet laugh from you, "They heard you. Blood of the dragon indeed"
He seemed to linger by your side for a moment, taking your hands in his, a worried expression was clear on his features.
"I worry about you, my love. This is our first child, and you seem to be in such pain"
"Aemond…" you respond, touched by his concern. A concern that most husbands would not have for their wives. You reached out to his face, thumb grazing over the bottom of his scar. His lids seemed to flutter at your touch before meeting you again, as if in such bliss. "…my love, do not worry. Your mother has an army of midwives and she herself has had four children, I am in good hands"
There was a pause as you sat up in the chair, "Our child gives me strength, if they are anything like their father" you smile and so does he. Aemond seems to find this answer satisfactory as he leans up and gives you a tender kiss to your lips, feeling the warmth from your face on his. His hand rests on your jaw, pulling you further towards him as if wanting more, making your smile against his kiss. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, eyes focussed down on you,
"Please be careful" you say and he nods. He turned to leave, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before doing so, almost not wanting to leave, whether it be a small voice in his head telling him or not. He looked back once at the door, relishing the view he had before him. His pregnant wife, sat in front of the fire, smiling back lovingly at him. He nodded to you, muttering 'my lady wife' before leaving.
You felt a heaviness in your chest as he left, more in the hope that he would not be reckless once out on Vhagar. He could so often get carried away, you thought to yourself. Outside, the wind howled loudly and you could see the dark grey clouds in the sky run across the sky quickly, the rain creating rivers, you had not seen a storm this bad in King's Landing for a while. One could not tell if it was morning or evening, it was so dark with clouds.
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A day had passed in King's Landing, but nobody would have known it. The storm raged on and on, the sun had yet to make an appearance and you had not heard a word from your husband. You stood at the window, hands tied together with anxiety, looking out at all the trees barren of their leaves, the wind having stripped them of their greenery. You took a deep breath, a kick from the baby landing straight on your bladder and you quickly took a seat at the window.
"Heed your father's warning, little one" you say, one hand rubbing over the large bump, remembering the way Aemond had spoken to the unborn child.
A knock at the door broke you out of this trance, Ser Criston Cole stepped in, "Yes?" you inquire.
"Queen Alicent, Princess"
You nodded and he stepped aside to allow the Queen to enter your chambers, a worried look on her features. She had her hair down as if to go to sleep but was dressed with a silk green robe over her, hands clasped together she offered a small smile which you reciprocated.
"You look tired, my dear" she said, coming to sit beside you once the door had closed. Your hand was still supporting the bump as if the weight was pulling down on you, you nodded.
"It is so, your Grace. I do not sleep at all with the weight of the baby" you answer, letting out a small groan of pain.
"I am sure the worry for my son is not helping your condition" she said, this is when your eyes met. You nodded sadly, looking out the window now.
"I worry about him, your Grace. Although you must also, I imagine. He is your son" you offer her a smile.
"Yes…" she trails off, "…I remember the day he was born. He was an easy labour, an easy child, seldom crying"
This made you smile, of course he would have been a good child. As if the gods had formed him themselves, you could only wish the same for your child.
Alicent had always been good to you and she was ecstatic to find you with child many moons ago. Of course, she already had grandchildren from Halaena and Aegon, but this time it was different, she was more attentive, almost overly so. Aemond had been the same when you informed him, excited but restrained somewhat. He often ran you baths to soothe your aching body, dressing you in moments of weakness, you could not have wished for a better and more attentive husband. His kindness astounded you. 
You went to say something, when a pain hit you in a new place, sending a shock of pain through your hips. You moaned out in pain, louder this time, clutching your thighs and leaving marks where your fingers had been.
"What is wrong, my dear?" you heard Alicent say, but her voice was muffled through the wall of blurred pain you were still experiencing. That had been different, you thought, and your mind raced with the possibilities. The pregnancy was nearing its end and this was the thought that worried you the most, your hands began to shake in fear.
"Something is wrong…" you said quietly, so hushed thar Alicent had not heard you as you starting to slowly kneel to the ground, one hand in front to stabilise yourself.
Alicent herself got on the floor in front of you so as to hear you better, one hand placed at your arm in comfort. Your hand brushed your thigh and you pulled it from beneath your nightdress to find that your entire palm was bright red with blood, Alicent was now silent, taking one wide look at your hand and then into your eyes.
Your eyes had welled up with tears, some for the pain and some for the fear, but you met Alicent's eyes.
"Something is wrong" you said more clearly now.
The wave of pain began just then and like a military operation, midwives surrounded you, setting down dark towels on the bed to place you on top. As you were laid on the bed, the pain worsened and you kept screaming out with every contraction, the midwives and Alicent attempting to calm you down without any help whatsoever.
Now, the room had filled up with a dozen people, two of which were the Hightowers huddled in the corner. Alicent's face was red with worry and he kept rubbing her hands together, speaking in low voices with her father,
"This is not usual" Alicent said to her father, he shook his head, eyes every now and then landing on you reeling in pain on the bed, "even with four children, father, I know that this should not happen"
"Has word been sent to Aemond?" he asked, Alicent nodded her head quickly, "What has been said"
"That the Princess has begun her labours"
"Good, it would be best to leave the in-depth details"
You shook your head, wanting the pain to just cease, muttering under your breath Make it stop, make it stop. You pulled yourself to your knees weakly, grasping the bed frame, being upright making the pain slightly less unbearable. You could feel the pressure of the baby trying to make its way out, this feeling remained through the next contraction.
"Where is my husband!" you scream out, Alicent is at your side immediately, holding your hand,
"He is on his way back, my dear, you are doing brilliantly" she said, you held her hand tightly. Through your blurry vision you saw Halaena had entered the room, perhaps to offer some support, but the thought left your head as quickly as it had entered as another quick contraction ripped through you like a dagger.
"I need him, I need him now. Something is wrong, Alicent…" all pleasantries of titles were thrown out of the window as the pain seared through you, like a hot poker had been pressed harder and harder into you.
"You are doing well, my dear, I know it is painful but you just have to push" she said. You swear you could hear the wood splinter as you grabbed the bedframe again, fingernails dug deep in it to alleviate the pain inside your body. The midwife sat behind you pulled your shift to your waist to examine.
The midwife slowly approached Otto in the corner, "She is not progressing quick enough, we must consider the possibilities"
Otto looked sadly at Alicent, who as if knowing exactly what they had been talking about, turned back to you, placing a cloth to your forehead, face and chest now shining with sweat.
"Listen to me, my dear. You have to push for us, okay?" she instructed, motherly instincts now kicking in.
"An eye for an eye…" Halaena said quietly from the corner, nobody having heard her, "…a mother for a son…"
"I can't…" you reply, breathless, "…it hurts…please…where is my husband…" you ask in between breaths, contractions ramping up again. You looked over to Alicent, tears streaming down your face, her look was fierce now. She knew the pain of a child, she knew how the will wavered during labour and this knowledge seemed to spur her on to support you.
"You can" she simply said and you took a deep breath, pinning your eyes shut and pushing with all your might. Various hands reached at you, some in joy at finally seeing the head of the child you had so long laboured for finally appear. You gripped Alicent's hand tightly, taking in another deep breath to push once more.
"Just a little more, Princess!"
With one final scream and push, you felt the baby vacate you and an empty feeling dawned upon you. You found you were still gripping the bedframe hard, face still shining with sweat, body still shaking.
"Congratulations, Princess. You have a very healthy boy" once of the midwives said as they cleaned your baby. You heard his cries but they never registered, you still felt completely dissociated, dizzy…
Your back met the back of the bed, finally being able to lay down after so much toil, Alicent had a sad look on her face, still dabbing your forehead, "Well done" she said quietly.
Your heavy eyes landed on the midwife next to you, who was handing you the small bundle which your weak arms gratefully took. You looked down at the tiny human in your arms, with little wisps of hair on top. The child was barely bothered about the trouble it had caused and had its thumb in its mouth, breathing quietly. You could not help but smile down at the child, your finger running over his cheek slowly, they were flushed with the loveliest colour.
Aemond would be thrilled, you thought.
You looked up to Alicent, she was craned over, doting on the child already, "He is wonderful, my dear. Well done"
You smiled weakly, eyes fluttering closed, "I feel…tired…" you say weakly. Alicent furrowed her brows, seeing your face go pale slightly and arms go weak. Her eyes found the sheets and pulled them back, only to find the entire bed soaked in blood.
"Get the maesters, now!" Alicent said, but your senses were too blurred to notice what she had said, or how you were feeling. You could not explain how you felt exactly, there was pain to be sure, but it was disappearing second by second and a warm feeling was replaced. Feeling weaker by the second, Alicent quickly took the child from your arms, your hand instinctively went to reach out.
"Where is…Aemond…" you ask, his name ghosting on your lips over and over as midwives rushed out and maesters rushed in. But you barely noticed as your vision faded, smiling as you imagine Aemond with his child.
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The next few hours were a blur for the Red Keep. Alicent had confined herself to her own chambers, sitting disassociated in her armchair, the child now with the maids for care. Opposite her sat her father, Otto, who was also absent-mindedly staring into the fire. The storm had finally passed, leaving just the dark night sky behind, scattered with stars and the big bright moon.
Alicent bit her lip to stop herself from crying, fingers grasping the arms of her chair tightly.
At the door, Ser Criston, "The Prince is back, my Queen" he simply said. With lightning speed, Alicent raced up, Criston Cole not far behind, briskly walking through the Red Keep's corridors to meet her son before anyone else.
At the end of the hallway, Aemond had rounded the corner, looking wet through and heavy. He met his mother's eyes, but he seemed vacant and Alicent felt her heart panic, did he already know? She thought to herself.
She ran to her son, taking his cold hands in hers. His mouth hung slightly open as if to say something, "Aemond, what happened? You are freezing" she said hurriedly. It took a few moments for Aemond himself to have the courage to face his mother, to find the right words for what he had done…
"Mother…" he finally replied. Alicent was surprised when she found his eyes, he looked as if he was going to cry, his face was wind struck, hair still damp and his voice was barely a whisper, "…I fear I must tell you…the terrible thing I have done…" he said.
Alicent gripped her son's hands tighter, behind her Halaena had stopped to stand next to Criston Cole, this made Aemond's mind rush slightly, why were so many people anticipating his return…unless they knew.
"Do not worry about that now, let us get you warm-"
"I lost control" he simply interrupted, Alicent fell silent, furrowing her brows.
"What do you mean?"
"I was just trying to frighten him…I…." he trailed off, his eyes found the floor, a spot of rain fell down his face.
"Aemond, what happened" Alicent asked, just wanting a straight answer.
Aemond could no longer process it and fell to his knees, Alicent held his head against her as if in protection of her large son, "Luke…"
A wave of realisation hit Alicent at what he meant and she looked behind her at Criston and her daughter, Halaena was already looking down muttering to herself, a mother for a son, a mother for a son. It was only here that Alicent had realised what Halaena actually meant and her face went white as a sheet, her hand still being grasped by her son, kneeling on the floor.
After gathering some part of himself, Aemond stood finally, allowing the servants to take his soaked coat away from him.
"Where is my wife?" he asked quietly, taking a breath. There is was, the fated question. Alicent was silent again and almost stood stock still in her place before realising Aemond was walking down the corridor to his chambers, where he knew his wife would be.
"Aemond!" Alicent shouted after him, "Aemond, stop!"
Ser Criston joined in the chase, going to push Aemond back out the room as soon as he had entered, attempting to shield him from this hurt. But it had been too late.
His eyes scanned the room for a moment, there were many maesters and maids in the room before him. The maids all paused to give the Prince a curtsey before resuming their duties, before continuing to wash the blood stained sheets in the pink water before them. The sheer sight of this horrified Aemond, making his heart sink into his stomach.
Criston's hand had been on his chest the entire time, "My Prince, it is best you leave" he said, making eye contact with Alicent who was standing by the door, a sad expression on her face.
Aemond did not violently break free, but simply stepped forward into the room. His face was still, mouth slightly agape as he saw a bloodied figure laying in the bed, but still not confirming who it may have been.
The maester who was hovering over the figure turned to the Prince, "My Prince, please, we are preparing the body-"
Aemond had ignored everyone and continued over to the bed. His breath died in his throat when he saw you, his wife, the entire bottom half of the bed caked in dark blood. You lay there on the bed, eyes slightly opened and your bloodied hand reaching out for nothing, Aemond had realised now he had fallen to his knees on the floor before the bed.
"No…" is all he said, his hands shakily reached out to take your outstretched one, surprised by the still and coldness of it. He felt the hot tears begin to spill down his face as he looked upon yours, "….my love, please…"
He could not help the feeling of guilt that spread in his chest, consuming his heart. Whether he liked it or not, he had become a murderer, a kinslayer, in a mere night. He had taken away someone's son, so his son took away his wife.
He felt the desire to avenge your death, but the tears flowed quicker with the knowledge that nobody was responsible for your death, except for him. He knew women often succumbed to blood loss and infections from childbirth, but thought that because of your pure soul and the unwavering love you had for him, surely you would be exempt from such a cruel fate.
 Aemond did not leave you the entire evening until forced to by the maesters and the sisters.
How the gods could be cruel, he thought, when confined to his own room. He had not even dared look at his newborn son, fearing he may inflict some kind of doom on him also. Or maybe he feared he might push guilt onto the baby for your death. He had what any noble gentleman wanted, a son. But he did not feel any richer from this and was instead consumed by loss for weeks.
When he eventually spurred up the courage to see his son for the first time, he could not shift the ghost of your face that was visible in the child's features. He only felt empty. Like a part of his soul had been ripped from him. Perhaps this part of him would be lost forever.
Alicent never saw her son again as she knew him before.
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