#(<- collects the same book in different languages)

[kaymarie-bell]

We have an official announcement for the English translation of the first novel! I'm so excited 💖🌹

[vanyafresita]

WWGRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHH <- it wants to buy a secondhand book that is on sale, but it already has several books to-read right there in its bookshelf

[alexanderwales]

Spells are a non-renewable resource. One a spell has been cast, it can never be cast again.

But thankfully, what counts as a unique spell is permissive, and very early on in the history of wizardry, wizards found many ways to use the arcane language to specify a similar effect even if the wording was different.

And still, spells were a non-renewable resource.

There are only so many ways to call forth a beam of lancing light, only a limited number of methods of purifying food to make it safe to eat. Soon it became necessary for the wizards to start casting spells that weren't quite what they wanted: a beam of light that arced to the left, a purifying spell that added a bitter taste, some changes cosmetic and others very functional.

And still, spells were a non-renewable resource.

Wizardry was divided into ages by the historiographers. The First Age was the age of plenty, when wizards could make minor tweaks to the spells and cast as much as they liked. The Second Age was the age of modification, when wizards were jumping through hoops and using methods with side effects. But the Third Age was the age of decay, when so many spells had been used that only the oddballs were left. It was impossible to cast anything even remotely resembling a fireball, not even one that hooked to the left and exploded with sharp green shards.

It came to be that few wizards could produce a spell on their first attempt. They would try, only to discover that someone else had already taken their idea and the spell does not work. They would try again, only to discover that their second idea had also been taken. Wizard battles, which had once been glorious light shows, were reduced to two wizards standing in a field trying to be the first one to stumble upon a spell that had never been cast before.

~~~~

Here are some plot hooks:

Wizards jealously guard their knowledge, fearful that someone will learn of a "seam" of untapped spells, but they also write down every spell they know to have been cast, to reduce their search space. Obviously this trove of knowledge is highly valuable.

The existence of spell "seams", which are really just collections of spells that work off the same cluster of discrete variations, mean that wizards tend to be very specialized. The Sheep Wizard knows eight hundred ways of turning someone into a sheep, because he's studied that area of the arcane language extensively, as well as historical precedents that have been ruled out. The natural enemy of a Sheep Wizard is, of course, another Sheep Wizard.

During the Second Age, a group of wizards get together to deliberately reduce the spell-space, largely in the hopes of reducing the capacity of wizard-kind for making war. Their work largely consists of sitting around casting as many fireballs as they can, depleting all options for everyone else.

During the Third Age, a group of wizards gets together and in the spirit of mutual cooperation begins to define "spell blocks", a collection of spells that a single wizard is entitled to and all other wizards agree not to use. When you become a wizard, you're given a thousand spells which are thought to still be valid, and will lose your license to practice wizardry if you cast any spells that are outside your block. This is difficult to enforce, rife with accusations and suspicion, but is thought to be better than nothing.

During the Fourth Age, a group of "wizards" (none of whom have ever actually cast a spell) are working on the arcane language in the hopes of a revival. As the age of hoarded knowledge has mostly passed, they're able to get their hands on many books that weren't previously available. One day, they invent a new form of specification that allows hundreds of thousands of new spells, re-igniting wizardry.

[artytaeh]

THEODORE NOTT HAS A LOT OF MONEY. and even though that's a relief that indulges his own impulsive spendings to pamper himself, it still doesn't feel like he properly makes use of it.

the large bookshelf on his bedroom, at the nott mansion, might suggest otherwise.

( what? theodore enjoys special editions; no, it's not silly to want a first edition of one of his older favorites, or a hard cover version with a better illustration, really. much less having paid more for a book on his native language, given that he's in london, a bit too far away from the city he was born, millan. )

but then, ah— there it is! the reason why his family's ridiculous wealth makes sense, now!

because what theodore nott lacks in a few matters, such as communication or spending a lot of time with you, when he needs his time alone, he'll compensate like this.

one might perceive this as a heartless, uncaring way to press bandaids over emotional wounds; believe me, it couldn't be farther than this.

theodore just likes to see you smile, and given that his black card is a means to such an end, well, why not?

things are just things; but things do bring happiness, so yes, you can buy happy feelings!

theodore would love to know if you collect something— mugs? he's bringing a new one for you, now paying extra special attention to crockery themed stores. snowglobes? there's this one he found, with a charm to it! if there's a comic series you like, theodore would discreetly surprise you every week with a new volume.

only for you to go and break his heart, standing in front of his door with his gifts in arms, extending them for theodore to take it back.

cluelessly, and looking a bit like a kicked puppy, theodore frowns. are you angry at him? isn't this the type of thing you like? should you reassure him that your only issue is the excessive money spent on you, theodore feels like a weight left his shoulders.

huff; so, he does know how to please his girlfriend and what she likes!

... but why are you rejecting him? 'hey, bella, don't offend me— this isn't going to empty nott's vault any time soon.'

should his puppy eyes work, well then, you're doomed.

because theodore will use this same excuse over and over again, when he brings another thing that reminds him of you. what? you mentioned that you like coats like these! it's a color you like to wear, and you'll need warm clothes like that in a matter of weeks!

do you not like his gifts? theodore will give you a look that, if you didn't know better about his cynical shenanigans, you'd believe that his heart was being shattered to pieces.

that's the reason why dates at hogsmeade are so dangerous. i'm being serious— you might as well keep your eyes on the road, stare at the snow beneath your feet, because if you spend more than four seconds staring at something inside a shop...

there isn't time to process anything else; theodore's mind works fast. you saw it, you seem to like it, he's buying it. in a blink of an eye, theodore already has his card between his index and middle finger, nonchalantly making his way inside.

'can't a man spoil his girl? goddamn it, dolcezza.'

clothes are almost worse. if he sees something that you're staring at, and likes it, theodore is putting so much (discreet. not so discreet,) effort into convincing you to let him buy it for you.

'you'd look good in it. see, it's a color you like, it would look really good, given your skin tone.' and then, he takes a different approach: 'trying it on doesn't hurt, right?'

a cruel plan, you see, because then you fall in love with this dress, as much as theodore fell in love with the idea of you wearing such pretty clothes.

his arms embrace your waist, like a snake slowly trapping its victim; the fabric feels right under his skin, the dress looking as if it was sketched for you, fitting better than a glove.

theodore rests his chin on your shoulder, holding back a smirk as he sees you mourning the idea of leaving the dress here— it's just so pretty! and theodore's compliments don't help!

🗯️ : but teddy, it's really cold these days. i wouldn't be able to wear it, anyways.

t : and that's why we learned simple warming charms during third year.

🗯️ : sure, but— i don't have where to use it, so it's not worth it if it's just going to look pretty in my dresser.

t : no worries, bambina. i'll think about a perfect date for you to wear this, looking so pretty for me. bellissima, la mia bella ragazza.

NO USE IN ARGUING WITH HIM; theodore nott always wins these rounds. the battle is won, and the war is benefitting his side.

even if you do not let him spoil you with such impulsive thoughts and freedom, theodore would never, for the life of him, let you pay for a single coffee or meal while you're with him.

lunches at hogsmeade are a favorite of his. obviously, he's paying. this slytherin doesn't joke about the topic; will give you the biggest side eye if you take out your wallet.

who do you think he is? his mother raised a man that knows how to treat a girl right, and a good boyfriend! no way in hell is any soul at hogsmeade, scotland, europe— hell, galaxy!— considering that he's not taking care of his amata ragazza properly.

ALL IN ALL, THEODORE FINDS IT SWEET how much you worry over it, and insist that he could spend this same money on things that he likes.

but that's what you fail to understand— what theodore likes, more than a new book with a promising synopsis, or an exquisite astrolobe— is seeing you smile for something that he got you.

﹙★﹚ won't give you gifts to earn his forgiveness earlier, though. he wants his presents to feel like he genuinely thought you'd like it, not as a bargain or bribery.

anyways, i love this man. 🌷

[fanfoolishness]

I like to imagine that in the future, people remember the clones. After Palpatine falls for good on Exegol, imagine an explosion of freedom and knowledge in those days after the final defeat: imagine archaeologists and scholars plumbing the depths of Imperial and First Order records, trying to figure out what had happened so it could never happen again. And through it all they find the clones’ story woven into everything, until a new field emerges of Clone Studies, a loose alliance of military history buffs and research biologists and anthropologists and ethicists.

They catalogue the Kaminoans’ research; they review the clone memorials on Coruscant, on Zeffo, monuments as large as a massive wall or as small as a quiet statue, from people throughout the galaxy who were grateful for what they did. They study the great tragedy and betrayal of the chip, finally understanding the scope of Palpatine’s plans and bringing them out into the open, sharing the truth that the clones never chose to betray the Jedi Order and Republic they had served faithfully. They study old war vids and oral histories from people of long-lived species or whose grandparents remembered the clones; they build, memory by memory, a sense of the culture, the camaraderie, the brotherhood, the loyalty. They collect vids of battle songs and in-jokes and an interior language shared among them, springing up over the years.

They find and list their names, self-chosen or given by their brothers: Rex, Fives, Howzer, Echo, Tup, Gregor, Wolffe, Cody, Boil, Waxer, Cut. They study the clones whose differences defined them and knit them into a family whose ties could not be broken, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Omega. They study the discarded who nevertheless still had value - 99, Emerie, the clones who were culled in infancy for being wrong. There are specialists who devote their entire branch of study to the only male unaltered clone and his infamous exploits throughout the galaxy, so alike his father’s. They study the years of the clone rebellion, a fight that paved the way for the next wave of fighters and the next after them.

The clones are gone. That is undisputed. Their kind came for a little while, and then vanished, burning brightly; their tale was a tragedy, but one unique in all its seeming sameness. There are conferences and holovids and books. There are debates and research firing up young scholars about a time only their great-grandparents can remember.

In the future, after all the clones are gone, there are still stories.

[sxgakookie]

Summary: You're an author giving a talk for your newest published work, when you're asked a question about your recent engagement to Kim Namjoon. The question gives you an opportunity to relive the chance meeting and the sweet moments that made you fall for your fiancé. Genre: Fluff, Smut (softdom! and idol!Namjoon x reader) Rating/Warnings: Adults Only (Strong language, oral [male and female receiving], riding and missionary sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) Word Count: ~5.6k words

“Our conversation is about to wrap, and I know that we have questions from the audience, but there is one more thing I’d like to mention.” The interviewer, Ji-ah, said with a bright, white smile. “Your recent engagement to Kim Namjoon. I just wanted to say congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” You blushed, not expecting your fiancé to come up in the interview. The audience clapped, with smiles, clearly happy to see you happy. 

“I just wanted to ask, what is that story?” Ji-ah asked. “How did the two of you get together?” 

“Well,” You laughed, thinking back to past moments, like flipping pages in your memory book. You look out into the audience, speaking to everyone there with sparkling eyes. “We met in this beautiful city, actually. It was during my first trip here, to Seoul.” 

You stood in your hotel room, slipping on a newly purchased pair of black patent leather heels, perfect for your planned night out. It was something you were looking forward to, after working all day, signing Korean-language copies of your most recent best seller. Ever since landing in Seoul, you had wanted to explore the city, particularly its art scene, as art has always been a love of yours, wherever you traveled. 

After you slipped on the heels, you did a quick check in the mirror, making sure your makeup, hair and dress were to your liking. You threw on a beige coat for the cold, winter winds outside, and made your way down the hall of the hotel, to meet your driver outside. 

Seoul was beautiful at night, especially when the snow was light and fluffy. Flakes collected on the glass of the backseat window, where you watched the buildings pass by. The streets were illuminated by the soft glow of street lights, and, despite the cold temperatures, people were bracing the weather, still out and about. You sent a quick text to your literary agent, to thank her for getting you into this exhibition opening, barely being able to press send before you had arrived. 

The gallery was small and intimate, with bright white walls and dark, black floors, giving it a modern yet still warm feel. When you entered, a polite employee took your coat for you, and offered you a glass of red wine. You accepted with a smile and a ‘thank you’ in your best Korean, before heading off into the crowd. 

If there were anyone there that you knew, you wouldn’t have noticed with the way your eyes latched to the work of Agnes Martin. Beautiful, minimalist works graced the white walls, etches of grids with a human touch. You stood in front of one, its color a deep blue, and allowed yourself to get lost in the work. 

A man, who had been walking the circumference of the room opposite of you, had met you in the middle, at this deep blue piece. He stood next to you, towering over you with his rather tall height and toned body. He raised his own glass of wine to his lips, and caught glimpses of you out of the corner of his eye, noticing you were doing the same. 

“This one is gorgeous, isn't it?” You finally spoke, being the first to break the ice. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, taking another short sip. “It’s so easy to just get lost in her work.” 

“Mhm.” You hummed in agreement. “Like you’re melting into it.” 

The man turned to face you directly, making the size difference even more pronounced. He had sparkling dark eyes, and thick black hair, styled well. He was more casually dressed than many of the people there, and like yourself, one of the younger attendees, though you felt he was a couple years older than you. 

“I’m Namjoon.” He introduced himself with a smile. It was infectious, you noted, as you mimicked with your own smile. Your eyes flashed to his deep dimples on his cheeks. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N… Y/L/N?” Namjoon asked, his eyes widening. “You just published a book here, didn't you?” 

“I did.” You smiled warmly. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to know me here.” 

“Actually, I had read it only like, a day or two after it came out.” Namjoon explained. “Hidden Places, right? Yeah I um, to be honest, I don’t usually read essay collections but your book may have changed my mind.” 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You said. “And also, you’re Kim Namjoon, right? The musician?” 

“Yeah.” He flashed his dimples. “It’s hard to be a stranger sometimes, right?” 

“Definitely.” You laughed. “But, it’s ok. I suppose you get used to it. So, you collect her work?” You asked, your head motioning towards the work. 

“Not yet.” Namjoon said. “That’s why I came tonight, seeing if anything stuck out to me.” 

“And?” You asked. “Did it?” 

“Maybe.” He said, looking back at you. You smiled under his gaze, and there was a moment of pause, as Namjoon’s eyes lingered on you for just a bit. “Do you, uh… Do you collect her work?” 

“Not really.” You shook your head. “But I’m a fan. Just haven’t sold that many books yet, you know?” 

“Right.” He nodded. 

“I read Olivia Laing’s essay about her, and I really became a fan of hers through that.” You mentioned, walking to the next piece together. 

“Yeah?” Namjoon said, his brows raised. “Why?” 

“Because it’s amazing to me how a woman with such a complicated and chaotic life, could create work that’s so… still.” You said, as though talking to yourself. “It’s peaceful. Y’know, sometimes, we say that we try to see ourselves in art, but I don’t think that’s true. I think we try to see our ideal version of ourselves in art. So if we live messy, chaotic lives, we’re drawn to something like this. Peaceful. Simple. Because that’s what we’d like our lives to be.” 

Namjoon listened intensely, his focus on your lips, as if he were reading the words you were speaking directly. 

“Is that what you’d like your life to be?” He asked, with another sip of his wine. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged, before realizing how long you’ve talked. “I’m babbling, sorry.” You blushed.

“No, it’s great.” He confessed. “I think you’re right. Maybe that’s why I like her work, too.. I think I’d like my life to be more simple.” 

“Same.” You laughed together, and sipped your wine. 

You continued chatting throughout the night, content to meet a friend in a new city. Namjoon carried himself with a warmth to him that was so genuine, and it radiated throughout the whole room. Many people came up to speak to him, and you couldn’t tell if he knew each one or not, because he spoke to each person as though they had been friends for years. It was nice, you thought, to meet someone so personable in a world that seems so isolated. 

The night was coming to a close, and tipsy patrons were making their way out of the gallery. Namjoon walked out with you, both of you with your hands in your coat pockets. You could see your breath in the cold air, and your driver parked parallel on the street. 

“It was lovely meeting you. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.” You smiled. 

“Any time.” He responded. “Hey, um… How long are you in the city for?” 

“About a week or so,” You said. “I’m here for work, but my nights are free. Next weekend, I’m leaving for some events in Busan.” 

“While you’re here, I was thinking I could show you around.” Namjoon said. “If you’d like to.” 

“Yeah, for sure.” You nodded. “That would be great.” 

You exchanged numbers, and Namjoon gave a promise to call you. He stood on the sidewalk, and watched you run through the falling snow to the black SUV that was waiting for you. When you closed the door, you could see that he was still there, smiling at you and waving you goodbye. 

“Wow.” Ji-ah smiled. “What a chance meeting, right?” 

“It was.” You said gently. “To be honest, I assumed we’d both be too busy and forget to call each other, or I just thought, ‘Hey, I have a new friend in a new city. Sure, he’s cute, but whatever. It’s fine.’” You laughed, and the audience laughed too. 

“But, he obviously did call.” Ji-ah said with a grin. 

“He did.” You nodded. “Just like he said he would, the very next day. And me, being as oblivious as I am, didn’t realize we weren’t just making plans to ‘hang out.’ I never even considered he had more in mind.” 

“You didn’t realize it could’ve been a date?” Ji-ah laughed, alongside you and the audience. 

“No!” You giggled. “I seriously thought he was just my new friend.” 

“So… What happened?” Ji-ah asked. 

Namjoon glanced at the time on his phone, knowing he was early. The reservations weren’t for another fifteen minutes, and as he watched his own breath escape his lips, he cursed his own excitement for bringing him here this early. But, he wanted to make sure you weren’t waiting for him so, here he was, alone and cold in front of the restaurant. 

He watched as people went about their evening, trying to take his mind off the chills he had. Kids across the street laughed as they played in front of the convenience store, where two men in suits ate instant ramen from cheap to-go bowls, seated in front of the window. Namjoon noted their loose ties, and wondered if they worked together, getting food to decompress after a hard day, or if they just found each other in the same place, at the same time. 

“Hey!” You yelled with a wave, snapping Namjoon out of his daze. You were on the other side of the street, waiting for the traffic light to change. He smiled and waved back, and watched how your hair bounced with every fast step you took across the crosswalk. 

“Hey.” He greeted. “How was your day?” 

“Busy.” You smiled. “Yours?” 

“The same.” He said. “I think it’s almost time for our table to be ready. Let’s get you in from the cold.” 

Namjoon opened the door for you, motioning you in with a playfully exaggerated wave of his arm. You giggled at his antics, and entered the warm, dimly lit restaurant. The building was beautiful, clearly upscale, and not a casual “hang out” spot, like you had assumed. 

“Table for Kim Namjoon.” The host smiled politely, gathering a set of menus in his hands. “Right this way, please.” 

Namjoon followed behind you as the two of you made your way to your table; an intimate, private table near the back of the restaurant. Namjoon politely helped you into your seat, before sitting down across from you. You thanked the host, and then began looking over the pages of the menu. Namjoon, however, was looking at you; the woman who had occupied his mind for the last twenty-four hours. 

“I thought about what you said,” Namjoon finally spoke, causing you to glance at him. “About our lives, and if they’re messy and chaotic, we seek out the opposite.” 

“Yeah? You remember my babbling?” You chuckled. 

“I agree with your babbling.” Namjoon corrected with a dimpled smile. “I think, with my own life, I search for peaceful things to try to balance out the chaos.” 

“And are you successful?” You ask. 

Namjoon just smiled warmly, staring at you, wondering how it’s possible for a woman to be that beautiful. “I’m trying.”  He finally answered. 

Throughout the dinner, you were lost in conversation with Namjoon, and Namjoon was struck by just how easy it felt to be with you. The two of you laughed, enjoyed wine and food, and Namjoon knew with his best instincts that you were someone special. Intelligent, personable, beautiful. The ingredients of the girl of his dreams. He knew you were barely an acquaintance, and he cursed himself for always jumping the gun when it came to love. But he also knew how he felt with you, and he couldn’t ignore it. He wanted to get closer. 

“…So, yeah, I have to go to Busan soon.” You said. “I’m sure it’s lovely there, but I have to admit, I just love Seoul so much.” 

“You could come back.” Namjoon suggested, trying to play it off as a nonchalant thought. “When you’re done with work, just come back and spend some more time here.” 

“Maybe.” You smiled at the thought. “I’ll think about it.” 

“And did you think about it?” Ji-ah questioned, leaning in to hear your answer. 

“I did.” You nodded with a laugh. “But, Namjoon isn’t known for his patience, and came to visit me in Busan instead.” 

“Are you serious?” Ji-ah laughed alongside you. “He went all the way there just to see you again?” 

“He really did. I thought he was out of his mind.” You joked, making the crowd laugh too. “But, in all honesty, it was maybe the most romantic gesture I’ve ever had, and it sealed the deal for a first real date.” 

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N, could you sign my book please? I’m a big fan.” 

“Of course!” You said, not looking up at the man in front of the book signing table as you took his paperback copy. “Who can I make it out to?” 

“Did you really forget me that quickly?” 

You furrowed your brows and looked up, to see Namjoon standing at your table with a goofy, shy grin on his face, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your own smile grew and your eyes widened in surprise as you took him in. 

“Oh my God, seriously? What are you doing here?” You laughed. 

“I wanted you to sign my book.” Namjoon playfully answered. “I…um, I wanted to surprise you, too.” 

“You really made a trip down here, and stood in line to surprise me? It definitely worked, I’m surprised.” You giggled. “And… you have flowers?” 

“For you.” He said, his nerves showing. “For um… It’s to congratulate you, on your book and everything.” 

“Thank you.” You said softly, standing up to take the flowers. “I don’t know what to say, that’s so sweet of you.”  

“We can chat in a minute?” He suggested. “I think I’ve taken up my time in line, some women behind me are getting upset.” 

“Ok.” You giggled. “Let me sign your book though, you came all this way.” 

Namjoon watched with complete adoration in his brown eyes as you scribbled a note onto the page of the book. 

“I’ll meet you in a little bit, ok?” 

“Ok.” He nodded, and walked to the side of the bookstore to look at your note. 

“To Joonie, the sweetest man I know. Love, Y/N.”  

Namjoon grinned ear to ear like a schoolboy with a crush. He was nervous to come to Busan, worried that it was too much, and that you wouldn’t like the gesture. But with the validation little note and a soft laugh, he knew he did the right thing. He watched as you signed the books of the rest of the people in line, and listened to each of them compliment your work. You handled yourself so gracefully, he let his mind drift into places it rarely goes with anyone. Could he let you into his world? The public, the paparazzi… Could you handle it? He can only protect you from so much, with so many things out of his control. It was a long way to that point, but he thought just maybe, you would be the right one for him.  

When you were finished, you went over to him with a wave, just as you had the night of your dinner together. 

“What did you want to chat about?” You asked with a sweet tone. 

“I know this might be a lot but,” He paused, looking into your eyes as you looked up at him. “I’d really like to take you out. If you want to.” 

Your smile slowly creeped on your face, and blush painted the apples of your cheeks. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“So yeah, I went out with him.” You smiled, recalling the story. “That first date turned into the two of us going out every night that I was in Busan. We would just meet at places in the city, and spend as much time together as we could.” 

“That’s so cute.” Ji-ah cooed. “I still can’t get over that he went all that way just to see you.” 

“Me either.” You laughed. “But I’m thankful every day that he did.”

“So then, how did the two of you finally become a couple?” Ji-ah asked. “You’re running around Busan together, having fun, getting to know each other… and then what?” 

“Well…” You said, blushing brightly at the memories of that night. 

“I think you’ll love this wine.” Namjoon smiled, walking over to you with a bottle in hand while you sat on the sofa. His hotel suite was more like an apartment, with a spacious living room. He asked you to stay over for the night, after you extended your business trip into a personal vacation, just to stay with Namjoon. You knew it would sound crazy to your friends back home, but being with him just felt right to you. It came so naturally. 

“Yeah?” You answered, watching him sit down next to you and pour a glass. “I really love white wines like this.” 

“I know.” He smiled. Namjoon knew so much about you now. Your favorite foods and drinks, the books you liked and the ones you didn’t. He knew details about your family, and the funny stories of your friends. He told you about himself, too, opening up in a way that usually never comes easy to him outside of his music. 

You snuggled into him with a throw blanket tossed across your legs. Namjoon rested his arm on the back of the couch, allowing you easier access to rest on his shoulder. He smiled when you did, and when you looked up at him, he gave you a soft, slow kiss on the lips. 

You had only kissed Namjoon a couple of times. Your first kiss was at the end of your first date, when he walked you back to your room, and asked permission before moving in a little closer. Ever since, he’s stolen kisses from you whenever he could. He was obsessed with your lips, and how he felt connecting them to his own. His heart raced, and every part of him was begging to get closer. 

“Joonie…” You hummed into the kiss. “I’m happy I’m here tonight.” 

“Me too.” He smiled, deepening the kiss. You gently placed your wine glass down on the coffee table in front of you, so that you could rest your hands on his strong chest, over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Namjoon reacted to the touch by placing his own hands on your waist, daring to hold you where your shirt raised up just enough where he could directly feel your skin. 

The kiss never broke. But you found yourself growing braver, moving in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him position you onto his lap to straddle him. You had never felt so close to him, and both of your bodies were pleading for more…more…more…

“Y/N,” He murmured in the kiss. “I hope you know, I’m not expecting anything tonight.” 

“I know.” You said, kissing him again. “But, do you want to?” 

“I do.” He whispered onto your lips. “But only if you’re ready for it. We don’t have to rush.” 

“But I want to.” You whispered back. “I want you. So, why wait?” 

Namjoon responded with a deep breath for his nerves, followed by a passionate kiss. Deeper and stronger than the ones you’ve felt him give you before. He lifted you off the couch, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms stayed draped around his shoulders. He carried you through the hotel room, into the bedroom, where he laid you down delicately.

He stared down at you, smiling up at him from the bed. Namjoon quickly tossed his sweatshirt off and onto the floor, revealing his toned body, before helping you out of your own shirt. He swooped down and began kissing down your neck and onto the top of your breasts, his large hands cupped them through your bra. “Can I see a little more of you, honey?” 

“Please.” You answered. Namjoon wasted no time unhooking the back of your bra as you raised yourself for him to do so, and pulled the straps from your arms to show your chest. Before you had time to react, Namjoon’s lips were back on your body, licking and kissing your soft breasts, excited to have them to himself. 

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, in between taking a perky nipple in between his lips. “So… Fucking… Beautiful…” 

“Joonie.” You whimpered. His trail of wet kisses moved down your stomach, until he reached the cotton fabric of your lounge shorts. 

“Can I?” He asked, a finger impatiently on the waistband. You nodded and hummed a ‘mhm’ in consent, lifting your hips to help him reveal just your panties. 

“You’re already so wet for me, honey.” He teased, showing his dimples. Namjoon kissed up your thighs, building anticipation with each soft, wet, slow kiss to your skin. You whined, needing him at your core. He wrapped a strong arm around each thigh, keeping you held down for him. “A little wet mark on your pretty panties, and I’ve barely done anything.” 

“Please.” You whined, and Namjoon pushed the wet fabric to the side, locking eyes with you as he slowly began applying long licks to your opening, before adding pressure and quickening movements of his tongue. You threw your head back onto the bed and let out a gasp, responding to the expert flicks of his tongue by grabbing onto the dark locks of his hair. 

“Joonie… Joonie… Please, baby…” 

He slipped a finger into your opening, breeching you for the first time, as his tongue focused on your clit. Namjoon felt your legs shake, encouraging him to add another finger, listening to the pretty noises leaving your lips. His own length was hard and pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants, aching to be released, but he ignored his own needs. This was about you; the way you gripped the sheets, chanted his name, and tasted so, incredibly sweet. The way you squeezed your eyes shut so tightly when his fingers massaged the places you needed him most, and the way you held his head in place as he gave your sensitive bud loving rolls of his tongue. Namjoon could both feel and hear your orgasm; the heaviness of your breath, the tightening of your opening, the way you dripped on his tongue. 

“That’s my girl.” He praised, nibbling your still trembling legs. He slowly pulled out his long fingers, making you shudder. 

You watched as he stood up to remove his own pants, but before he was able to, you rolled on your tummy to be eye-level with his erection, looking up at his face innocently. Your hands were already at his waistband. 

“Honey, you don’t have to.” 

“But I told you, Joonie. I want you.” You responded, slowly helping him lower his pants, letting them fall to his ankles, followed by his underwear. He kicked them to the side, watching with anticipation as your lips were level with his length. 

You started slow, just content to tease him, and to really feel the size of him. He was large, and you knew he’d fill you well. You began to kiss his sensitive, leaking head, tasting the drops on your tongue. Your lips pressed to him, working a trail down the shaft, then back up again. Namjoon’s large hand was now on your head, not forcing, but gently encouraging you to touch him. His breath was heavy, deep inhales and exhales that were audible as he grew more aroused with how you seemingly worshipped his cock. You looked up at him as you took your time working him into your mouth, your tongue caressing his most sensitive areas. 

“Babygirl… Fuck…” Namjoon’s deep voice groaned, and his hand guiding your movements. A steady back and forth, with your fingers wrapped around his balls, giving him just enough pressure to be pleasurable. “Just like that, baby… Can you go a little further for me?… Good girl.” 

Namjoon had never felt so turned on by a woman before. The way you made eye contact with him, and enthusiastically worked to please him the way that he had you, made him feel so wanted and equally aroused. His eyes flickered back and forth from your lips, watching the way his cock disappeared and reappeared, wet and throbbing, to then looking at your curves. Naked on the bed, he could see the dip of your waist, your hips and soft skin of your bottom. Every inch of you, he wanted to kiss. As he let his thoughts drift, he could feel himself go closer to the edge. 

“Wait, hold on honey.” He stopped you.“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” 

Namjoon leaned down and gave you a quick kiss before finally meeting you on the bed. He laid down, resting his head on the pillow, and letting you straddle him and touch your lips to his. You could feel his cock pushing up against your opening, and Namjoon sighed feeling your skin on his. 

Keeping your lips close to his, but not quite touching, creating a heavy tension, you gently slid his tip into you, causing both of you to let out a quiet noise at the feeling. You sank down on him, working yourself to his length, and Namjoon held your hips, allowing you to take control and be comfortable. You felt so full, every inch of him filling you perfectly. It was as though your body was made just for him to touch, taste and fuck. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” He breathed out. You raised yourself up, and began moving on his length, switching from bouncing to grinding. Namjoon kept one hand on your hip, and place another between your thighs to touch your clit. 

“Joonie… Oh my God, Joonie… Don’t fucking stop.” You whined loudly, throwing your head back. Your hands rested on his chest to keep yourself steady, but you were coming undone again. Your pace quickened as you unraveled, your hips snapping fast as his cock reached right where you needed him most. As sensitive as you were, you both knew it wouldn’t take long for you to hit another high. 

“Cum for me, angel.” Namjoon’s deep voice dripped with arousal. “I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.” 

Your eyes shut tightly and your lips parted in pleasure, and Namjoon throbbed as you came again. He watched as your breasts bounced with every movement, and took in the feeling of your soft skin on his. As soon as you came down, he gently wrapped you in his arms, and laid you down on the bed, knowing you were almost at your limit. 

“Wanna love you just like this.” He whispered, kissing your neck as he took his place on top, resting in between your legs. His tip brushing against your entrance. “Are you too sensitive, honey? Can you take a little more?” 

“I can take it.” You whispered back, smiling as he continued painting your neck with kisses. 

“That’s my pretty girl.” He praised, sliding himself into you gently, listening for noises of discomfort. But none came, and as he bottomed out into you, he groaned and tucked his face into your neck to mark your skin and whisper in your ear. “Your pussy’s so good, babygirl. So fucking beautiful… so tight and wet just for me, aren’t you?” 

Namjoon learned that night that your neck was particularly sensitive, and you loved being kissed there. As he thrusted into you, he littered your skin with nibbles, licks, kisses and love marks. Each deep, hard hit and mark on your skin was proof that he felt something for you. Was it love? Not quite…at least, not yet. But he was falling, and he was prepared to make love to you throughout the night if that’s what it took to make you understand. You were meant to be his, that much was sure. The way you held him, kissed him, touched him, spoke to him, pleasured him was everything he’s ever wanted in a partner and a lover. 

“So close, angel.” His voice said softly, giving you a gentle kiss. 

“Cum inside me.” You whispered against his lips, deepening the kiss. “Fill me up, Joonie. Don’t fucking stop, want you to cum deep-” 

“Oh… Oh…” He groaned, his length throbbing against your walls. “Y/N…. Y/N, baby…. OH, FUCK… I… Ah…” 

You held his body close to yours as he buried his face in your neck, coming down from his high. His tanned skin was sweaty, his heart pounding and his breath heavy, as was yours. Namjoon couldn’t remember the last time, or any time, he had made love that intensely to anyone. He couldn’t remember any time he had chanted a woman’s name, or felt so desired, or was held so lovingly. It was beyond sex; it was intimacy. 

Afterwards, laying next to you, he pulled you in and the two of you drifted off to sleep as he held you in his arms, as though protective over you. As if, if he were to let go, you’d slip away. So he kept you close, and kept you safe. 

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains of the bedroom, illuminating everything in warmth. Namjoon had woken up before you, choosing to hold you as you slept, playing gently with your hair and occasionally caressing your bare back as you rested on his chest. Namjoon realized he could easily wake up like this, nude under the  covers with you in his arms, forever. 

After a little while, your eyelids fluttered awake. Namjoon pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and snuggled you closer. 

“Hi.” He whispered delicately. “How do you feel?” 

“Amazing.” You replied in a hushed tone, still coming out of sleep. “Last night was… yeah.” 

“Yeah.” He smiled, his hand absentmindedly tracing your skin. “I’m really happy right now. With you.” 

“I’m happy with you too.” 

You looked up at him, still resting on his chest. Namjoon raised a hand to your face, running a thumb along the outline of your jaw, appreciating how lucky he felt in that moment. Your hair was tousled, you wore no clothes or makeup, and this was the most beautiful he had ever seen you; well rested and happy, after a night of love making. 

“Be with me.” He whispered, the words leaving his lips before he could catch them. 

“Be with you?” You repeated with sparkling eyes, making sure you heard his request correctly. 

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “I think we should be together. What do you think?” 

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I think so, too.” 

Namjoon smiled wide, showing his dimples that you’ve grown to adore so much. He sealed the deal with a soft kiss, hoping it was the first of many together. 

“…So, I spent some time at his hotel, and when we woke up the next morning, we just knew.” You explained, not giving too much information about what happened behind closed doors that night. 

“You just knew.” Ji-ah smiled, clearly giddy with the fairytale love story.

After the interview ended, and the audience had dispersed, the only person waiting for you was Namjoon. He stood in the empty auditorium by the stage where you had spoken just minutes ago, waiting to take you back home. 

“You ready?” You asked, making your way to him. 

“Yeah.” He replied. Namjoon’s eyes were sparkling and warm, filled to the brim with love for you. “Come here.” 

“What?” You smiled, before giggling as he picked you up and gently sat you down on the edge of the stage, where he could stand between your legs and look up at you. “Why’d you do that, Joonie?” You laughed. 

“I just wanted to look at you.” He said softly. You blushed under his adoring gaze. 

Namjoon had been in the audience tonight. It was your first event after the publishing of your most recent book, a essay collection on falling in love. It revealed your relationship to Namjoon to the world, after several years of dating in private. When he proposed to you one night in total surprise, during a private dinner party with all of your friends and his in attendance, that was when you both decided to go public; when you knew for sure that you both were in love for the long haul. 

Listening to you publicly describe the beginnings of your relationship, brought a flood of memories back to his mind. He wouldn’t change anything, and he was so thankful that somehow, he managed to have you for himself. He felt like he wanted to say a million things, but only one sentence seemed to come out. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too, Joonie.” You replied, meeting him halfway to kiss his lips. 

[canmom]

so on royalroad, the english-language serial webnovel website, there's ads created by users for other stories at the top of each chapter - you know, for the common case where you're reading a book and you want to suddenly start reading a different book. (they set it up in a way that's fiddly to block.)

they're kinda fascinating? I almost want to start collecting them. they triangulate into genres with bulletpoints. isekai. cultivation. reincarnation. yes romance. no romance. harem. no harem. some of them use anime-styled art or fantasy concept art (most likely a lot of it either AI-generated or used without permission/attribution, I get the vibe)... but a lot of them are straight up just memes.

hell lemme just refresh the page a bit and see what I get. I'm only a liiiiittle selective here.

...I could keep refreshing but you get the picture.

and sure, it's just the same as the AO3 tagging system with a different set of aesthetic priorities right? people are searching for stories which scratch a very specific itch. but there's something weirdly fascinating in advertising a story based on how formulaic it is. or ads for a novel that look like ads for a mobile game. how so many of them refer to their protagonist as 'MC'.

I assume this like, works, or people wouldn't do it? Same principle as long light novel titles. otaku database theory stuff. I just... don't really get it! who's it for?

[princessbrunette]

hai!!!! just curious, because ik everyone kinda has their own definitions when it comes to different kinds of readers, what do you describe puppy/kitty/bunny/deer!reader as? what makes them them?

anyway, luv ya n all that ya do- ,,^-^,,

ooo fun question !! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

BUNNY:

she was born for the soft life. a highly organised system in her closet, and a whole separate closet just for shoes. she’s not bratty, she doesn’t even know what being bratty is or how to do it, but there are of course times she starts thumping her foot, whining and pulling at rafes clothes. this petulant behaviour is often solved by a stern look, a tap on the cheek or a reach under the skirt to tug at her fluffy bunny butt plug. her nose twitches when she’s upset, and has a big toothy grin when she’s happy. she leaves the glitter from her body all over rafe’s clothes, mink eyelash extensions on the sink, tubes of lipgloss in her boyfriends pockets. she’s an r&b / rap girl lover to her core, and a day isn’t complete without bouncing around her room to flo milli or saweetie. bunny doesn’t have an ounce of shame in her body— whether that’s from her skirt riding up in public (as to which rafe has to irritably tug it down again) to pawing at him, begging him for dick infront of his friends. luckily, rafe doesn’t have much shame either.

KITTY:

be careful, she bites! no really, she does — cross her and she’s squinting at you, sinking her teeth into an arm until you yelp. according to jj, anyway. she’s odd, and that’s what he likes about her— collecting horror movie memorabilia and trinkets from the thrift store she thinks might be ‘haunted’. she keeps her nails long, stiletto shaped even — whether that’s from scraping her money together for acrylics or growing them out herself. she has the craziest oral fixation, always needing something to lick, suck or chew on— that something often being her boyfriend jj. despite the black liner in her waterline, she is still a spoilt little priss who needs her pink ribbons tied round anything and everything, requiring the fluffiest of blankets and pillows for her daily nap. unlike bunny, she does work — having a little gig as a bartender/waitress at a beachside restaurant. she gets super huffy and puffy, not enjoying having to speak to so many people — but her boyfriend gaining a linecook job at the same joint makes things better. she’s deftones biggest fan, even owning a pair of panties with their album cover on the front. jj loves seeing them on the floor of his room.

PUPPY:

she’s playful, clingy, and ever so whiny. shes the most energetic of the bunch, firing off into a million topics at once, talking and talking until john b has to interrupt her to tell her to breathe or she will pass out. her signature is her big doe eyes, used as a weapon ready to fire at all times on anyone who dares to upset her. she’s not spoilt, infact she’s very humble and fairly docile unless provoked— she just requires oodles of attention and affection, pats on the head and praise are her love language! she works at the local pet store, often coming home with hilarious stories about handling animals, john b plucking hay out of her hair as she tells them. she has the energy to keep up with all the animals, running around until she arrives home to john b and passes out on his lap for a quick nap before bursting into a fit of energy once more. pup is never seen without her walkman, and can often be found dancing around the empty chateau with 80s pop blaring in her ears, or knocked out with the audio tapes john b had recorded for her to help her sleep.

DEER:

riddled with anxiety, whilst somehow being the most still and unsettling person in the room. deer!reader, much like a real deer is skittish, easily frightened, but ever so curious. she has a different view on the world to most of her peers, a master in people watching and could win any staring competition. she’s often found with her nose in a book, the topic being either of something completely fanatical, or something informative and peculiar. due to her reading habits, much like her boyfriend pope she is a whirlpool of information, constantly quietly spewing facts into his ear (which let’s be real, is practically foreplay for the two of them.) she has a tendency to get into trouble from her prying, exploring and staring — but she doesn’t mean to come across that way, she’s the picture of innocence really! she likes 50s/ 60s music, finding a charming and simple peace to the sound — and is a mass collector of callico critters, sonny angels and blythe dolls. pope finds it adorable.

[innerfare]

Captain Kid Relationship Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Eustass Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Definitely started as friends with benefits, probably with you as a member of his crew. Whether you joined by choice or because the Kid Pirates raided your village and decided you would make a nice addition to their ranks is up to you. 

Showed up at your door one night with a bottle of whiskey, a raging hard on, and a wicked grin on his face, a man on a mission. Waited a few days after you joined up so you didn’t think that was the only reason he asked you to join, but didn’t make it the full week he had told himself he had to wait before coming on to you. 

If you had a boyfriend or even husband before you met him, he would not have cared less. Kid does not respect a relationship if it’s standing between him and what he wants, and he wants you. He doesn’t respect much of anything, to be honest, but he quickly begins to respect you. There’s just something about you- your manner, your attitude, your voice- that makes him want to protect rather than destroy you. 

That being said, Kid’s idea of playing nice is making fun of you, roughhousing with you, cornering you in a hallway to steal some kisses, etc. He isn’t above using his size against you, though if anyone else ever tries to do the same, he won’t hesitate to knock them out. 

Kid knocking people out causes a lot of fights between the two of you. He gets into a fight in pretty much every bar he walks into, and you often end up patching him up, dealing with little wounds that he wouldn’t have if he could just control his temper. He decides he wants to marry you when he realizes your lectures after these fights are not about the fact that he started a fight, but about how poor his form was. 

Doesn’t really have any notion of PDA. He shows affection when he wants to, and he doesn’t when he doesn’t want to. Sometimes it’s in public, sometimes it’s not. You often have to remind him to keep it in his pants until you can get somewhere private, though this doesn’t always work. What Captain Kid wants, Captain Kid gets. 

The definition of ride or die, basically invented it. Would help you bury a body, would lie to the marines for you- hell, he’d fight the marines for you. And he has on several occasions. Also has bad blood with countless pirates due to their behavior toward you. Even if a pirate propositions you in a way that’s not creepy (they simply don’t know you’re with Kid), that pirate ends up Kid’s blacklist. 

His love language is fixing things for you. You don’t even have to ask, you just mention something isn’t working quite right and he’s pulling it apart to see what’s wrong with it. 

Also makes you things, such as jewelry. Lays claim to some of the shiniest jewels they loot and fashions them into pieces for you to wear. He claims to have sourced the materials himself (technically the truth since he did steal them). Grins like a mad man if you wear a necklace or bracelet he made for you. Made you a bouquet of little metal flowers, too, that he’s very proud of, would be crushed if you ever got rid of them. 

Rarely wraps his arm around your waist. Rather, he drapes it over your shoulder and loops it lazily around your neck, sometimes tightening it when try to pull away. It makes more sense due to the height difference (Kid is a behemoth) but even if you were the same height, he’d probably prefer your neck to your waist. 

Steels the covers. If you want a blanket, you’re going to have to sleep on top of or underneath him. It’s typically not a problem though because he runs so warm that sleeping in the same bed as him is like sharing a bed with a space heater. 

Really enjoys shopping with you. Always picks out outfits for you to wear, has strong opinions on fashion. Also enjoys buying you records, books, whatever it is you’re into. Loves taking you to concerts, will even go to pop concerts if that’s what you’re into. 

More than happy to share his makeup with you, will paint your nails for you if you ask. 

Gets drunk and gives you slobbery kisses, grinning like a fool. 

You’re basically in a throuple with Killer. When Kid gets in that sort of mood where he’s communicating solely by grunting at you, Killer is always there to translate, and when Killer has some extra time on his hands, he’ll make you some food to bring to Kid in his workshop. 

Loves nicknames, but never uses the traditional ones. Calls you things like spider (neither of you know why, he just thinks it sounds right/cute), rice ball (again, makes no sense, but he likes it and that’s that), tulip (when he’s feeling especially soft on you). His favorite thing to call you, though? His.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[k0ff1n]

Skully headcanons (both general and relationship stuff)

The parts with the reader are gender neutral, also there is a point that could be considered nsfw I think but it's really just general stuff so nothing much really.

-English isn't my first language so sorry if there are errors and other stuff that simply ain't right and I hope you enjoy :)

+So first of all we know that he isn't from the world that hosts Halloween town, meaning he doesn't dress like that... probably. Personality wise I'd say that he only has energy when he is 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 excited about something, usually a topic that he really likes, but other than that he'd probably be kind of laid back. Like the Kaworu Nagisa type of laid back, he talks and stuff, nods and smiles but doesn't really express emotions in a really... 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 (this phrase makes sense in my head please bare with me).

+Now I fully believe that he probably dresses in two ways, no in between. We can have the fancy version of him, probably on those days where he feels motivated enough to wear something nice, and those are the only times where he wears some type of goth outfit, then we have the 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 version of him, the one where he's probably wearing a random cardigan with the most hideous Halloween design anyone's ever seen in their entire live. You know those 90s cardigans, the hand knitted ones with the different patterns randomly sprinkled on the base, yeah, those beauties.

+Now let's be sincere, he's probably autistic. He seems to not really understand "standard" social cues, like when he kisses everyone's hand and they are basically disgusted, also when in Halloween town he hugs grim and Epel(?) just because of how excited he is and they are 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 dying inside but he doesn't even seem to notice lol. Now the most noticeable part is also the one where he only talks about Jack and the related festivity, it literally feels like a special interest, the kind that sticks with you for all your life and you can't really get out of your sistem. Also we know that no one really likes him or talks to him in his real world, which is unfortunately the reality of many neurodivergent people, often considered weird or annoying by others. I mean all the neurodivergent people I've met always had similar experiences, me included so yeah, I mean he also basically states that so.

+With this said I imagine him to be the type of person that tries to keep his interests to himself but fails horribly every time someone gets close enough and he thinks he can finally open himself up. Now we all know how that would end (not in a nice way) , meaning that he probably hides himself in the realities from different books and movies he likes. I firmly believe that the reason he was so happy to finally be in Halloween town was because he imagined so many times to live there without the trouble of other negative people that he felt as if he actually belonged somewhere for once.

+Now since this is getting depressing I'd say that if he had a partner he would probably need someone that either shares the same type of interests as him or simply has enough time to listen to him rant about his hyperfixations. I'd say that the first one would probably still be better because he'd feel as if someone finally understands him and gets why he likes certain things so much.

+Probably collects weird and creepy things, could be old stuff he found in a thrift shop or taxidermies he made himself or bought from some shop on Etsy lol. I see him as the type of guy to yes, love Halloween, but only a certain types of decorations, I mean the old/vintage type would be perfect but if you ever try to get him close to a basic plastic pumpkin (like the basket kind for trick or treat) he would probably start talking in an annoyed and frustrated way about how society ruined the original version of the holiday and stuff like that.

+Type of guy to listen to those long ass YouTube videos with the low quality image as thumbnail that last for more than two hours but include old songs that no one ever listened to, probably including the ones that 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 those songs.

+If he actually had a partner he would probably be clingy af, not in an annoying way but like a cat that's always around you way. I don't think that in public he would display that much affection, probably afraid of other people seeing him and judging once again, but when in private he would probably be constantly near you or touching you somehow, be it hugging you when watching a scary movie on the couch or if he's helping cooking something and suddenly you feel him speak in you ear, scaring the shit out of you because he somehow doesn't make any noise when walking.

+Has the worst eye bags you've ever seen in your life, the type that even if you put a red base and then the green and concealer or whatever they 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 fade away. They would probably only make him look good considering that be surely (to me at least so sshhh) wears at least a little eyeliner or eyeshadow. I dont think he was dry lips, even if the og image gives that impression I have a feeling that it's like those cracked type of lipsticks that you put on in layers and stuff.

+One again, if you share interests he would probably sing various tunes with you, be it the songs form the nightmare before Christmas or things like confrontation form the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde musical. I can see him dramatically move around his room while singing a certain part and then looking at you like you hung the starts in the sky when you start singing the next part, even if you suck it doesn't matter really.

+I don't think that he's asexual but at the same time I don't think he'd be really interest in sex stuff anyway, like maybe sometime but more like vanilla things, he doesn't even look like he has the energy to keep up any fancy type of performance let's be fr. Would kiss you and whatever, sometimes make out if you have the time and actually feel like doing something like that, but generally I don't think that he would care much about there things.

+Probably has a pet, not sure which one but the possibilities are: a cat, more cats, rats (named Jack and Sally obvs) or some type of ferret. Not really a dog type of person even if he likes Zero. He probably doesn't have the energy to keep up with an animal like that even if he wants to.

[amberarmedheart]

In Defense of John Watson and the Importance of the Besotted Narrator

Every couple of years, the world as a collective likes to ruminate and come up with a new adaptation of the stories of Sherlock Holmes, every single new one promising to be either "The Ultimate Adaptation" or "Holmes for the New Era", there is no in-between. And it is understandable, this amazement and awe we hold for the beloved mysteries, they are classics for a reason.

And despite that, time and again I see creators of tv shows, pastiches, and movies, neglect the most important aspect in every single Sherlock Holmes' story: the immovable presence of John Watson. Some even going as far as turning Watson into a villain, a caricature of himself, or even erasing him completely from the narrative. "After all, the important one is Holmes, isn't he? He is the genius, and Watson is there just his biographer."

That is the capital omission to me when it comes to any of the adaptations, because it ignores the vital part that Watson plays in Holmes' life. Watson is the companion, he is the bridge between the "normal" world and the genius that is Holmes' deductive brain. He is, for a lack of a better descriptor, the translator between what jumps in judgement and reasoning Holmes' brilliant mind comes up with, and the layman's language.

There is a reason why we as readers come up with the idea that Holmes is smart beyond his quirks and his drug addiction, beyond his ignorance of anything and everything that in his opinion doesn't help him solve the cases that distract him from the boredom of normal life... and that reason is that John Watson is the person narrating the whole thing. We are not introduced to Holmes through an omnipresent, anonymous narrator which is the case with other books. We are thrown in the middle of a mystery from the start the same way that Watson is unexpectedly thrown in 221b.

What we think of Holmes, what we feel for him, it is all because Watson wishes us to experience. The stories themselves carry with them one of the best storytelling devices graciously blended into the narrative, which is the fact that Watson is an incredibly good writer, so much that the public gazes into the spotlight where Holmes is and in most cases ignores that the one shining it down is Watson himself.

Creators who like to ignore Watson and his function in the narrative tend to see Holmes as their own self-insert: a super smart man whose genius cannot compare with the mediocre world population and who can barely tolerate their stupidity, basically a gift to men from god and who has to be worshipped for it... When the reality is that every single thing we perceive from Holmes is because of how Watson sees him.

Watson is our unreliable narrator, his descriptions and impressions of Holmes are the ones that are weaved into the story; even goes as far as giving us a glimpse of Holmes' opinion about it through the way the consultant detective sometimes accuses Watson of adding too many embellishments to his narrations. If we see Holmes as an incredible genius, as someone whose intelligence is above the rest of the world, it is because Watson says so. With every passing story, we come across different characters that every once in a while whose first impression of Holmes has been influenced by what they themselves read in Watson's stories... All in all, the in-universe characters falling under the same influence we, as readers, are.

John Watson's love for Holmes is one of the main plot points in the story, we see its evolution the same way as one normally goes through different stages of falling in love. We see Watson's first infatuation, his interest in what makes Holmes what he is, first in a superficial way and later on with every new story. We see them have misunderstandings, which most of the time end up in a deeper appreciation of Holmes as a person.

All culminating in the incredible rendition of The Final Problem, which could easily be seen, without little effort, as Holmes' planning his own death. By what means we are never completely sure, to be honest, since we can only see it through Watson's deep grief. It is true that Arthur Conan Doyle's plans were to end Holmes' adventures with the short story, but even with the author's motivations being the main recourse behind its inception, there is no doubt when reading the story that the focus of the narrative is Holmes' spending his last moments with Watson.

The subsequent creation of The Empty House and further adventures after that, diluted partially the importance of the whole ordeal, but gave us a different insight of Holmes and Watson's relationship. Through that lens, we as readers witness the evolution of it, the toll that Holmes' fake death had in both his biographer and his own author, adding depth through the strain put by the facade.

E. W. Hornung made one of my favorite homages to Holmes and Watson through his stories of The Gentleman Thief, and put a greater emphasis on the strained relationship between the two characters after the fake death. He gave his besotted narrator another source of turmoil: the fact that while Raffles (our stand-in Holmes) was away living life and even having a romantic interest, Bunny (his Watson) ends up falling in disgrace after being sent to jail.

A.J. Raffles' stories lean on the importance of the unreliable, uselessly enamored narrator, to the point that Hornung didn't shy away from having Bunny refer to Raffles as handsome and attractive in many different instances. He understood how there is no Holmes without a Watson to appreciate him, how their dynamic is the fuel behind the success of the whole series.

And ultimately, that it is impossible to have a good story without a good storyteller.

[flummoxx]

KH NOVEL RESOURCES

A collection of links to fulfill all of your kh novel needs

Info:

The Kingdom Hearts novels are a series of books written by Tomoco Kanemaki, containing artwork drawn by Shiro Amano. Originally, they were only released in Japan, but we now have the official English translations for most books. (we are only missing the spin offs) The few games that don’t have novels made for them are the mobile games. (unfortunately)

Keep in mind that most of the books when translated into English, were combined into larger volumes. For example, kh2 vol 1 and 2 were put together to make a bigger volume 1. So, if you come across any fan translations titled "vol 4 of _" or " vol 5 of _" it might be labeled as a different vol in the English version, but it contains the same story.

Youtube Audiobooks:

@celestesoleil on Youtube read the entire official English series and uploaded it to her channel. Please go check her out!

Disclaimer:

I could be wrong, but I read online that Yen Press recently lost the rights to the English novels and manga. This makes it hard to find the physical english copies anymore. When shopping for the books online, please make sure you're purchasing the correct language.

ALSO none of these translations are mine; all of the credit belongs to those who spent the time to translate them. And of course I'd like to thank @rhythmmortis on tumlbr as well, who has mercifully uploaded every official English translation on google docs. (they're a lifesaver, seriously.)

—☆—

KH1 - "Kingdom Hearts: The Novel (light Novel)"

| Official English Translation(complete) | Fan Translation(incomplete) |

| Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

COM - "Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories The Novel"

| Offical English Translation of Sora and Riku's Story(complete) | Fan Translation of Riku’s Story(complete) |

| Novel Illustrations |

| Youtube Audiobook of Sora's Story(complete) | Youtube Audiobook of Riku's Story(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH2 - "Kingdom Hearts II: The Novel, Vol. # (light Novel)"

KH2 - Vol 1

| Official English Translation of vol 1(complete) | Fan Translation of vol 1(incomplete) |

| Vol 1 Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook of vol 1 (complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH2 - Vol 2

| Official English Translation of vol 2(complete) | Fan Translation of vol 4 aka vol 2 in en(incomplete) |

| Vol 2 Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook of vol 2(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

Short Stories Vol. 1 OTHER DIAMONDS

This is a spin off exclusive to the books. It currently has no official English translation. Keep in mind, that If you choose to download the fan translation off the second link, the website's not guaranteed to be completely safe. Unfortunately, I don’t know much about it. Please be careful!

| Other Diamonds Prologue Fan Translation |

| Fan Translation(complete) | Other Info |

| Amazon | Ebay |

Short Stories Vol. 2 AXEL SEVEN DAYS

This is the second spin off in the series. It also lacks an official English translation. Although the fan translation is technically unfinished, It's only missing the chapters that according to the translator, were just retellings of the Pride Lands and Halloween Town worlds. This website is safe and has no download option available.

| Fan Translation(incomplete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

358/2 days - "Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days: The Novel (light novel)"

| Official English Translation(complete) | Fan Translation of vol 1(complete) |

| Fan Translation of vol 2 aka vol 1 in en(complete) | Fan Translation of vol 3 aka vol 1 in en(complete)

| Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH BBS - "Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep: The Novel (light Novel)"

| Official English Translation(complete) | Fan Translation of vol 1(incomplete) |

| Fan Translation of vol 2 aka vol 1 in en(incomplete) |

| Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH RC - "Kingdom Hearts Re:coded (light Novel)"

| Official English Translation(complete) |

| Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH DDD - "Kingdom Hearts 3D: Dream Drop Distance The Novel (light Novel)"

| Official English Translation of Sora and Riku's side(complete) | Fan Translation of Sora's Side(incomplete) |

| Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook of Sora and Riku's Side(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KHX - "Kingdom Hearts X: Your Keyblade, Your Story (light Novel)"

| Official English Translation(complete) |

| Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH3 - "Kingdom Hearts III: The Novel, Vol. #: ____(light Novel)"

KH3 - Vol 1 Re:Start!!

| Official English Translation of vol 1(complete) |

| Vol 1 Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook of vol 1-3(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH3 - Vol 2 New Seven Hearts

| Official English Translation of vol 2(complete) |

| Vol 2 Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook of vol 1-3(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

KH3 - Vol 3 Remind Me Again

| Official English Translation of vol 3(complete) |

| Vol 3 Novel Illustrations | Youtube Audiobook of vol 1-3(complete) |

| Amazon | Ebay |

Extras - Another Report

In Japan, if you preordered Kh2 Final Mix, the book Another Report, was provided with your game. Roxas—Somewhere in Time, and a directors report are included in this book, which thankfully have fan translations that I've linked below. These have never been officially translated to English.

| Roxas—Somewhere in Time | Director’s Secret Report XIII |

—☆—

Before you leave, feel free to send me any questions about the kh novels. I'm lucky to own every en novel, and I'm always free to talk about them!

[felassan]

Thoughts on the new images of the Lighthouse Part 1. DA:TV spoilers under cut.

[Link to Part 2]

general: the Lighthouse looks so cool, it's beautiful 🥺 I can't wait to explore it fully and see the companions' areas change over time.

outside many of the windows are pieces of floating rock and odd architecture, a feature of Fadey scenery.

This can only be Emmrich's room. :) the giant skeleton statue on the left is exactly like the ones in the Necropolis Halls. the hanging lanterns have hexagon shapes, which I've become convinced is part of Nevarra's visual design in this game. the slab-like table in the foreground looks suspiciously like it's meant to hold a corpse/skeleton, and we can see Emmrich doing just that here. the room is filled with lots of flasks and other glass vessels, reminding me of the artbook concept of apron!Emmrich holding a smoking glass flask. I wonder if any of the jars/vases are more like urns and canopic jar kinda deals? there's a big scroll on the desk and lots of books and scrolls everywhere, as you might expect from a scholar and a professor. there's lots of skulls and skull-themed decor everywhere, even affixed to the wooden part of the upper floor, as you might expect from a necromancer. Emmrich really said okay I'm moving in now and my huge collection of skulls is coming with hhh. in the righthand corner of the room it looks like a giant skull (the bottom part of it looks to me like teeth), and on one shelf there's even a ribcage.

do the statue-figures on either side of the fire look like humanoid figures holding their heads in their hands to anyone else, only their heads are like vase-shaped?

maybe he sleeps upstairs somewhere?

the big spiral staircase is beautiful and so is the sunlight beaming in through the windows from above. :) the fireplace looks cozy. in the arches of the windows you can see the curves of ancient elvhen architecture. the view from up there must be so pretty!

This item on the top of one of the shelves caught my eye. I can't place it atm but haven't we seen this shape before?

This room can only be Neve's. :) in the bottom left is a stand with a different leg on it, the same as one of the ones shown in her artbook concept art. there is serpent imagery. I think diamond shapes and pointy objects like the wall-lights are part of the visual language design of Tevinter. the hanging lanterns look magical, a common thing in Tevinter. the rug is pretty and incorporates her turquiosey color palette. on her desk there is a turquoise pot (teapot?) - if you look closely, its coloring and the swirling designs on it are very similar to Neve's teacup here. :) there are various teapots and decanter-type things around the place that she could use for coffee.

it's smart room design, the big ceiling-high windows give the room the impression of a workplace office, like something out of a crime procedural.

Neve's casework wall. wanted posters/mugshots/suspect/missing person (they could be any of these) pictures, lots of notes, papers that look like they could be maps, strings linking together different papers in a clues-board like this meme, papers that it looks like Neve has annotated in red ink while studying them (circling and underlining things). a nice touch is that one or two of the papers are drawings of snowflakes, fitting for an ice mage. :)

I'm curious, what is this and what is it for? Bellara has one of these in her room as well, as does Lucanis (see Part 2).

these hanging objects are also interesting. they look like glass cases containing pieces of parchment on which a snake is drawn.

This room can only be Bellara's. :) it's filled with floating ancient elven magic-tech triangles and in the middle it shows the detached head thing from her artbook concept art. (he looks like if you activated him with the blue crystal or something that he could talk..). the room has a workshop vibe; she has a workbench and a stool, different instruments and gismos, and there's an array of artifacts on the shelves. the orange wall hanging on the right is triangular, flanked by two arrows in the nets and contains the skull of a deer/halla or similar animal. this must represent the Veil Jumpers given that many of them use archery, the triangles and the fact that their faction logo is a deerlike skull. it's a nice touch that even the structure of some of Bellara's furniture, like the sidetable on which the head rests, are triangular in design.

All the picture frames everywhere - are those mirrors? could they have something to do with investigating eluvians, or the network?

this looks like this halla statuette asset from DA:I. :) there's one of these in Taash's room too.

the ancient elven face motif, like on Solas' Trespasser armor and the Temple of Mythal Sentinels' armor.

hanging bone hh?

Left: what is this contraption? the ear is human Center: very ornate box. what's in here? maybe the animals on the top of the lid are stylized mabari? Right: Fereldan mabari banner.

Left: this pattern of walls and the triangle pattern on them is a feature of ancient elven architecture. Right: the way the walls (behind the frames) are designed here, it makes it look like pipes. Bottom: curious that we cannot see the ceiling.. :)

This looks like a sort of magnifying glass or microscope-type thing that would allow her to closely examine things she finds.

What does this do? :D

This (left), along with the head, feels like a focal point in her room. this hanging thing almost looks like a model of a planet or solar system - a planet in the middle, a ring of asteroids or something around it, smaller orbs around the place like moons. we've seen part of something similar before, in the ancient elven ruins in Arlathan Forest in the screenshot on the right. compare these bits; the rings, the paired triangles.

looking at the wider structure of the thing in Bellara's room, it also reminds an awful lot of this place (whatever it is), which even has the ring of rocks going around it.

feels important. :D

I feel like this is Harding's room. :) it's pretty and cute, a nice rustic space (suits her). the simple bedroll under a cloth canopy propped up with some sticks has the vibe of something a shepherd and scout might rig up to rest in when out in the wilds. the pond / water feature transforms it into an outdoorsy, nature-y space, as do the leaf-strewn floors and the plants growing up the walls. there's vegetation everywhere - potted plants and some areas which look like raised planting beds, basically little indoor gardens. this includes windowboxes, flowers and even mushrooms (I know that's fungi. yk what I mean hh). this makes so much sense for Harding - we know she loves nature and plants, and Ali Hillis mentioned that Harding also raises plants. I wonder if as the game progresses, she will grow more plants and the ones she has already will grow some more? like maybe she'll finish planting up the area around the pond the whole way round? and I wonder if her lil pond has fish? that would be so neat. please can I buy some beautiful koi for Harding to put in her pond to raise? also I wonder if any of the things she grows are edible? like imagine Bellara and Lucanis cooking with e.g. salad greens grown and raised here by Ms Harding :D and/or healing herbs we could use in the field?

this plant for example resembles the model for elfroot in DA:I!

I think maybe this is Taash's room. first off, near the middle of the room it looks like a makeshift weights bench, and we know that Taash is a gym bro. the hanging rings nearby that remind me of these. even the 'horizontal ladders' on the ceiling look like you could use them as monkeybars - if you look on the left, there are even ladders in the form of rings protruding from the wall that you could use to climb up there to access them.

even these frame things look like they could be used for some kind of physical workout/climbing situation.

on the table to the left it looks like piles of big coins, fitting for a Lord of Fortune. elsewhere in the room behind the weights bench it looks like there might be some gold bars. in the background is a hammer leaned against a crate.

this crate has her color scheme - the tealy hue, gold pieces and red ropes.

a Qunari symbol, in drapery that has her color palette, the teal with the red ropes. btw, comparing this and its location to the new screenshot of Taash, I think that this banner is the thing in the background that I was talking about here (the "something blue-green"):

in the background to the right is something blue-green with what looks like red rope hanging off it. a belonging of Taash���s? maybe this shot is from a quieter moment, somewhere in the Lighthouse, maybe her space? if you look here (Arlathan, the ruins are ancient elven), it has the same sort of repeating zigzag patterns on the same sort of arch-like curves as here. it makes me think that this shot is set in a room with ancient elven architecture. (and the Lighthouse was Solas’, so it would have ancient elven design).

If you look at the banner with a wider crop you can even see the "arch-like curves" with the zigzag patterns that she's standing in front of in the new screenshot. this area has fire to the left of the arch, which would cast the warm firey glow you can see from stage-left in the new Taash screenshot. so it looks like in the new Taash screenshot she was standing somewhere around here:

And that my guess of the setting of the new Taash screenshot was correct. :D

crate of some kind of weaponry or bones, including a map with a knife I imagine you'd use to mark spots on it with. :) piratey vibe.

clever room design btw, it has the vibe of belowdecks/the bowels of a ship.

horned statue or carving, like an ogre.

Top: the silver shield-like things on the wall have the same sort of scale-mail appearance as Taash's field armor. Bottom: this thing reminds me of a boat in shape. like a small fishing boat or something.

I wonder why Taash has a Grey Warden shield and an eluvian in her room? maybe the shield is just general decor (like the Fereldan banner in Bellara's room? unless Bellara is from Ferelden??). maybe the eluvian ties into why she apparently has some involvement and a strong interest in a main story mission set in the far reaches of Arlathan Forest, as described by Corinne Busche during the second Discord Q&A? -

"I was out in Arlathan, actually doing, on my way to do a main story mission, and I get to the far reaches of Arlathan Forest, and I already knew that Taash wanted to help me with some of the challenges of that arc. Well, Taash is right there waiting for me, so I actually chose to instead like, ah, Taash seems impatient, I’m gonna actually jump on that story arc right now instead of what I intended to do"

And what is this? Looks like a sun or an owl. ^^

I ran out of image allowance on this post so I'll put the rest in another post!

[Link to Part 2]

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (14)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, kind of hate sex, but at the same time love sex, smut, angst, violence, swearing, anxiety ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He tried to be forewarned and careful, to think about not letting his guard down, but the moment his wife started to ride him he lost his temper.

He couldn't believe how different the experience was compared to what had happened to him in the brothel that day, his face pressed against her soft, firm breasts, sucking and licking them, her lovely nipples hard and swollen with desire.

The thrusts of his hips were desperate, sloppy and fast, the closeness of her warm body, her scent, her hands entwined in his hair, her fleshy muscles that squeezed and sucked his fat cock made him not even know when he came, panting and moaning loudly, surprised at how shockingly intense pleasure shook his body.

He closed his eyelids, feeling her walls clench against him in fulfilment – she rose and fell on top of him for a moment more with sweet, helpless cry, cuddling him into her. He breathed loudly with his lips pressed against her naked, hot, sweaty body, his face deep between her breasts.

"I love you." He heard her whisper and opened his eyes, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, his long fingers involuntarily digging into the soft skin of her buttocks. "I've always loved you."

For some reason he wanted to cry at her words.

He swallowed hard, thinking of how for years he had dreamed as a child that once they were married she as his wife would whisper it in his ear every night, that their affection would be their sweet secret, his reason to be proud.

His mother did not love his father as a man despite him being king; she did not spend her nights with him, she was not his lover or confidante, he never witnessed her speak to her husband the way his niece spoke to him.

The thought that he could surpass his father, have something that no one else had and that could be the envy of other men filled him with pride.

Something that neither his father, his brother or Criston Cole had.

When he lost his eye and his mother decreed that he should marry someone else, foreign women suddenly began to appear around him – lords from all over the kingdom arrived in King's Landing on any pretext hoping that the Queen would look on their daughters' candidacy with a kindly eye.

Despite his mother encouraging him to befriend them, he was reluctant to do so and often made them cry with his behaviour.

"You have a wonderful collection of books, my Prince." Said softly a girl with a pleasingly shapely body and beautiful light hair tied in an intricate braid, her eyes blue and shining, she was Lord Stark's niece and spoke with a slight northern accent.

He looked at her reluctantly; his mother forced him to show her his collection of volumes on philosophy and history on the excuse of giving them an opportunity to speak in solitude, which he had absolutely no desire to do.

She was kind, calm, smiling, graceful and charming, ironic and warm at the same time – looking at her he thought she was the perfect candidate for a wife.

So why didn't he feel anything standing next to her?

"Mmm." He hummed, not knowing what he should answer, his gaze fled out of the window, to the courtyard.

He imagined it wasn't her standing next to him, it was the one he was trying to forget, his mind involuntarily beginning to suggest to him what he would surely hear from her mouth.

"You read so much about human nature and mind, uncle, and you cannot behave properly towards a lady. So I offer you a word of advice − you should, with your characteristic haughtiness and coolness, tell her the history of our lineage, which she will pretend to listen to with interest. Some gentler expression would not hurt either, though I do not expect such far-reaching concessions from you."

He smirked involuntarily under his breath, imagining that he opened his mouth and replied to her that her taunts were already boring him, that he expected better rhetoric from his betrothed when it came to the vices he understood she had just accused him of.

He knew she would have laughed merrily at his words, seeing his grimace of amusement, the way his lips barely visible curved, the glint in his eye, something that would never escape her notice.

Little tease, he thought.

He shuddered as he heard the rustling of pages and suddenly returned to reality, glancing sideways, surprised to see Lord Stark's relative flicking through a small book he recognised immediately.

The Reflections on the Dignity of the Ancient Philosopher Areon.

He snatched it away from her; he heard her loud gasp of surprise, a look of uncertain dismay in her eyes, her lips twitching in the realisation that she had done something wrong.

"− I apologise, my Prince, I didn't mean to, I –" She began her speech, speaking of her love of philosophy, of how much it fascinated her, but he was only focused on putting down the book he had lent his niece at the time, slipping it into its place with reverence.

That day she kissed him for the first time, he thought with rage, bitterness and regret.

He pressed his lips together at that thought, at the memory of that traitor, that little whore who was exactly like her mother and, like her, was probably fucking her guards now, no longer minding him.

He thought about it, sinking into his memories as looked at her, at her gentle face immersed in sleep, at her swollen lower lip where he could see the clear red mark of his cut.

She could have killed him and run away, but she stayed and married him.

Unwittingly, his hand placed on her warm cheek moved, his thumb stroked her soft skin in a tender, gentle motion, from which she lifted her eyelids, he heard her quiet sigh of disapproval.

"Sleep, uncle. You are exhausted." She whispered, her long, slender fingers touching his jaw and running over it. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her touch, on her scent, on the closeness of her naked body, on the feeling of her warm breath on his face.

"I can't." He replied quietly, realising that all the feelings, all the grief but also all the hopes that had been building up inside him for so many years were now flowing out of him like a river, sealing their destiny, the discomfort and pain of his cut hand and mouth reminding him that he was indeed her husband now.

He didn't care about anyone else's opinion – their wounds were proof of their marriage, they had spent the night together and she was no longer a maiden.

There was nothing they could do.

He knew that word of what he had done would reach Lord Baratheon one way or another, however for some reason he did not fear his wrath.

He recognised that more important in the eyes of the gods and himself was the will of his dying father the King, which he had carried out like a good, devoted son.

Why should he be ashamed of this?

Why should he have to explain it to anyone?

He opened his eyes, surprised when he felt her rise up on her elbow and move closer to him, lifting slightly so that her lovely, plump breasts were at the height of his face. He sighed quietly as she embraced him and pressed his face between them, just as she had when they were still children, when he had sought refuge in her arms.

He snuggled into her warm skin, feeling suddenly strangely reassured and safe, embracing her delicate figure with his large hands, letting her fingers play with his hair; something in her closeness, in her tender gestures made his eyelids begin to close of their own accord, growing heavier and heavier with fatigue.

"I'm here, husband. You can rest." She whispered softly and he simply fell asleep, not letting her out of his embrace until morning.

They both flinched as they heard the loud pounding of someone's fist against the door of their chamber in the morning; he raised himself up on his shoulder, his lips tightening, the angry voice of Criston Cole on the other side.

"My Prince, open at once!"

He rolled his eyes, feeling a squeeze in his throat, knowing what awaited them now and glanced over his shoulder at his wife.

She was looking up at him lying on her back, bare and beautiful, a sort of strange calm and certainty in her eyes that gave him courage.

Neither of them had any intention of denying what had happened.

"Cover yourself, my love." He said to her matter-of-factly, and she immediately pulled the furs over her naked body without rising from the bed, watching him, lying on her side as he put on his breeches and shirt in a hurry.

He walked to the door with a lazy step and opened it, facing his mother's sworn protector. He saw that Criston's gaze immediately went to his slit lips and then to the figure of his niece lying in his bed; he swallowed with difficulty, as if trying to remain calm.

"Disturbing rumours reached your mother, my prince." He began, and he involuntarily chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

How could he have failed to see the hypocrisy behind this fawning curtness for so many years?

"You probably mean the fact that I've finally fulfilled my father's last will, which was weighing on my conscience and heart." He said dryly, knowing full well that his father's will was essentially of secondary importance to him; it was, however, a perfect justification for his act and the manner in which he had done it.

Criston Cole drew in a deep breath, rage in his gaze.

"The Queen is waiting for an explanation." He said.

"I have nothing more to convey to her than what she already knows. If she desires it, let her come to me in the flesh, and I will explain everything to her in detail. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to take a bath and eat with my wife." He said coldly and nodded at his servant nearby, the boy, pale and horrified by their exchange of words immediately turned and moved ahead to obey his order.

Cole turned angrily and disappeared around the bend, clearly intent on conveying his words to his mother. He glanced at his guards, who stood before him with lowered heads, afraid to lift their gaze to him.

"No one is to disturb us. Order that a tub be brought to my chamber and that meal be prepared for us."

He looked thoughtfully at the figure of his wife while lying comfortably in a bath tub filled with hot water; her servants had to help her put on her gown which they had brought from her chamber, the same one he had seen her in then, in the courtyard, many years later.

Something captured him in that choice of attire, in that wordless expression that they were both starting from scratch.

She looked at him when they were finally alone, staring at him for a moment in silence, only the quiet splash of water around them accompanying even the slightest movement of his body.

"What are you planning?" She asked at last in a quiet, tired voice, as if she sensed that they would be surrounded on every front, that their choice may have been driven by the need of the heart, but it also complicated everything even more.

He sighed heavily, looking away, resting the back of his head against the edge of the bath, staring blankly at his bookshelf filled to the brim with books and a small volume he recognised instantly between dozens of others that he knew he would always associate with her.

"There is no way back now. I believe, although you may disagree with me, that at last, after years, the will of heavens has been done. Our marriage is not just our whim, but an obligation that my father set upon us before he died. He foresaw what would happen and he was not mistaken."

He replied finally, glancing at her, feeling his heart pounding fast. He noticed with relief that her face was calm, her gaze gentle and warm, the way it had looked when they were children, when he had subconsciously sensed that she understood him.

She nodded, confirming his assumption, letting out a quiet breath, involuntarily touching the cloth he had wrapped her hand with before they sat down to their meal, wanting to be sure her wound would heal properly and not give into any infection.

"I cannot imagine how Lord Baratheon would let such an insult pass without consequence. His wrath, like your mother's and grandfather's, will be great." She said calmly, swallowing quietly; the tip of his tongue hit the inside of his cheek, pondering her words, feeling pleased that he felt the will in her to find a solution that would satisfy them both.

That she had taken seriously what he had included in his letter.

He wanted to reply to her that he had already thought it through, but he flinched when suddenly the door to his chamber opened. He turned, furious, thinking that it was his mother who had dared to enter unannounced, however, he only blinked when his brother-king appeared before him, looking at his niece then at him, the door closed behind him with a loud crack of wood.

He held out his hand to her and she immediately handed him a white cloth to wipe himself in, his chemise and his breeches, which he had hurriedly changed into – they looked into each other's eyes, wordlessly sharing their fear, her gaze sad and weary.

His brother grunted, glancing at him with a loud sigh.

"Leave us, niece. I would like to speak to my little brother. Helaena is waiting for you outside and will escort you to your chamber." Aegon said calmly. She glanced at him uncertainly, and he nodded for her to listen.

He led her away with his eyes, and as the door closed behind her, there was an awkward silence between them. Aegon snorted after a moment, as if amused, moving towards; he grabbed a jug filled with wine and two empty goblets, placing them on a small wooden table standing between two chairs, taking a seat on one of them, filling the vessels to the brim.

"Sit down, brother. You won't deny me today." He said lowly, and he swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat and a cold sweat on his back, thinking that he had to do as he was told.

He approached him slowly, taking his cup and sat down on the other side. Aegon looked at him sleepily, his head leaning against the back of the chair, his lips slightly parted in some strange kind of thoughtfulness from which he felt uncomfortable.

"Remember the time you hit me in the face because I said she didn't have tits nor arse?" He sneered and he nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, thinking that perhaps the alcohol would give him the nerve to somehow get through it all.

If he had his approval, the support of the King himself, the matter would be a foregone conclusion.

"I thought at the time that you were completely mad, that you were trying to make up for the lack of a dragon of your own with a little squealing girl who would praise you to the skies for life and boost your pathetically low self-esteem." He added finally, and he pressed his lips together, letting out a quiet breath, not looking at him, not wanting to be provoked.

"Helaena told me that she sent you letters for eight years. Is that true?" He asked, and he flinched, looking at him shocked, completely not expecting the question.

"What?" Escaped his lips like a mumble, panic in his mind.

How did she know about this?

Was she sifting through his things? Who else knew?

"Our beloved grandfather told her to find them in your chamber and bring them to him. He reasoned that you would not suspect her. But she decided, seeing how many there were, that she wouldn't do that to you. She told him that she had found nothing, that you must burn them on the fly." His brother explained to him, taking a loud, deep sip of wine from his goblet.

He lowered his gaze, feeling his heart pounding like mad in horror that his grandfather had perhaps sent someone other than Helaena, that perhaps some servant or guard was also looking through his things, her private correspondence to him alone.

"Let me see them. All of them." His brother-king commanded him in a low voice, and he looked at him in disbelief, pressing his lips into a thin line with rage, his free hand clenched into a fist.

"Believe me, you want me on your side in this matter, little brother." He sneered, raising an eyebrow, as if the whole situation, the fact that he needed his support incredibly amused him.

He swallowed the humiliation, setting the wine cup down on the table and walked over to his secretary's desk, opening the bottom drawer with a key tucked between the books. He slid it out and swallowed hard noticing the thick files of parchments bound together; he clenched his eyes, feeling bitterness and regret at the thought of not answering her for so many years.

Perhaps if he had done so sooner, neither of them would have to suffer so much now.

Perhaps they would have had a son or daughter by now.

He tossed them casually one by one onto the top of his secretary's desk and heard his brother stand up, coming towards him with his cup – the amusement gone from his face when he saw how many there were. He stood beside him, looking at it in disbelief, apparently wondering how he had managed to hide it for so many years.

He decided to give him the answer himself.

"I never wrote her back, but she still sent me more letters, every two months, for eight years. Many times I wanted to just burn it all." He said dispassionately, as if he was speaking about something unimportant or even annoying that only caused problems.

It bothered him that Aegon didn't speak so he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye; his brother was looking at the mountains of letters piling up thoughtfully, with a seriousness that he felt a squeeze in his throat from. He had no idea what he could expect from him, and that scared him the most.

He began to wonder if Helaena was really waiting for his wife outside his chamber, or if his brother had by any chance done something to her in agreement with Cole and their mother, if he was simply playing for time to distract him.

However, his brother finally spoke up.

"What will happen to my children? What will happen to them if I die and Jace and Luke survive? If they wish to fight for their rights to the crown? And if not them, then their grandchildren?"

He asked, looking up at him; only close enough he could see the bruises under his eyes indicating his lack of sleep and his constant drunkenness.

They both knew very well that alcohol was not just a pleasure for him, but an attempt to suppress his mind and what was going on inside him.

He stared at him with his mouth clenched shut, breathing loudly through his nose, having no idea what he should answer him.

His brother smiled, but it was a smile full of sorrow and regret; he took a loud sip from his cup, evidently feeling satisfied that for the first time in his life it was his younger brother who was unable to speak.

He walked closer to him, facing him straight on; he could smell the stench of alcohol from him, and it was only after a while that he looked into his eyes, tired and empty.

"What will happen to our family when the now old Vhagar will finally pass from this world like Balerion once did, and my younger brother will no longer be the rider of the greatest dragon in the world?"

His brother asked further, and he remained silent, feeling his heart pounding fast.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen, little brother. They will kill my children. Do you understand? They will undermine their right to the crown, because everyone is already undermining how I myself was crowned. I will die thinking that Aegon the Conqueror's crown will be their doom. My inheritance I will pass on to them." He muttered, his eyes growing redder and redder; he heard him draw in a loud breath, tightening his lips in an attempt to calm himself.

"I'm a bad husband. A bad brother. A bad man. But I swear to you, brother, I'm not a bad father." He breathed out through clenched teeth with a desperation he'd never seen from him before; he looked at him in disbelief and swallowed hard, only realising after a moment that he'd been holding his air.

"I know." He whispered with difficulty, feeling that his whole body was quivering.

He knew this because he had seen him many times when he was completely drunk, lying on the stone floor of Helaena's chamber by her feet, playing with them with their wooden toys.

He could hear their loud laughter as he imitated the sounds of a dragon coming over their army.

He devoted his time to them, doing what their father did not.

He was making an effort.

Aegon grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, tears of helplessness as usual when his older brother was in strong emotions streaming down his face. He smiled again, as if trying to make him realise something.

"Our father was a blind fool, brother. He was, but at the end of his life he made the right decision. You should have come to me with this matter. I would have helped you. No one would have questioned the nuptials made in the presence of the King himself."

He swallowed hard, feeling his jaw tremble, overwhelmed with shame at the thought that he felt burning under his eyelids, looking at him with a gaze full of disbelief.

All his life he had dreamed of Aegon defending and supporting him the way Jace had supported Luke, of him being the example, the fatherly figure that their King had not been to him, meanwhile he, his younger brother had had to drag him out of the brothels, watch him vomit in the filthiest streets of King's Landing, watch him fall, losing any remnant of respect or even compassion for him.

He didn't believe it made him want to cry, because some naive part of him wished that for once in his life he would support him, but knew full well that, as always, he would only be able to count on himself, that even his mother would turn on him in this matter.

"I was desperate." He finally uttered with difficulty, hearing that his own voice was low and hoarse, and grunted loudly, trying to control himself. Aegon laughed wryly, but it was a laugh full of regret.

"When she slit her veins I thought she had more courage than I did. After the coronation I thought about ending it all, but I didn't dare. I realised looking at her that I had never directed a single kind word towards her in my life. She tried to speak to me as a child, but I always mocked her. Once she found me lying drunk on the steps of the Red Keep; I wasn't even able to crawl into my chamber. She ran somewhere, came back to me and covered me with her coat. She asked me if I needed water, if she should send someone to me. And I didn't even thank her."

His brother said and chuckled under his breath with some kind of remorse that appeared like wrinkles on his forehead. He clenched his eyelids, trying to calm himself, trying to control himself, trying to remain composed and cool.

"I don't care how you do it. Fuck her day and night, she needs to carry your child as soon as possible. Neither our mother, nor our grandfather, nor our fucking stepsister will challenge the rights to the crown of an offspring born of the union of the Greens and Blacks."

He said, and he felt a single, lonely tear that he had failed to hold back run down his cheek, felt his eyebrows arch in pain, his throat squeezed so tightly that he struggled to catch his breath, felt his whole jaw tremble.

For the first time he thought he wanted to embrace him, to find comfort and support in the arms of his older brother.

They both flinched as a servant entered his chamber, bowing to them, terrified.

"Your Grace, I apologise for intruding without permission. A letter has arrived from Dragonstone."

When it appeared that it was to him that the words of his message were addressed, once he had read its contents he left his chamber like a storm, moving towards his wife's quarters, opening her door with an aggressive slam; she, Helaena and his mother all shuddered, horrified, apparently in the middle of some discussion.

"Get out. All of you." He said coldly, his brother standing behind him nodding at his mother and wife not to resist. Aegon was the last to leave, closing the door behind him; his niece looked at him with big eyes, her chest rising and falling in accelerated breath.

"What the fuck is this? Hm?" He hissed, walking towards her, throwing a rolled, unsealed letter in her direction. She caught it in mid-flight and turned it quickly in her hands, reading its contents, disbelief and fear painted on her face, her mouth gaping open, she looked at him pleadingly, shaking her head.

"You were spying for him this whole time? Fucking speak!" He shouted in her face feeling as tears of rage and disappointment one by one began to fly down his face, his whole body trembling with emotion, with grief, thinking that she had planned all this, that she had agreed to marry him to report to Daemon what was happening in the keep.

To manipulate him.

For a moment he thought she had run out of words.

"Aemond, gods, how would I? You would have found out, you know that's what would have happened. Surely Luke has told him what happened, t-that you allowed us to meet." She mumbled, and he grabbed her by the hair, tilting her head back, clenching his fingers in them, with the remnants of his strong will restraining himself not to shake her head, his lips clamped together in a tight line.

"Do you think I'll fall for this trap? That I'd let you fly with me and run away, let myself be killed by my uncle like some fucking fool? Or maybe you read too many of your romantic books as a child, hm?" He huffed and she cried out loudly, shaking her head, a look of horror and pleading on her face, her lips quivering as she tried to get something out of herself.

"I have no idea why he suggested it, I swear. I swear that if I had betrayed you, you would have found out. I wasn't spying on you. Please." She mumbled, and he felt a squeeze in his heart, because she had seeded doubt in his heart, because he wanted so badly to believe her, because a part of him kept repeating to himself that he would have noticed something, that he wouldn't have missed it, that after all, he had been watching her the whole time.

"I hate you." He muttered wearily like a small, miserable child, snuggling his nose into her warm cheek; he heard her loud, ragged sigh, her hands cupped his face, stroking his skin with her trembling fingers.

"I love you." She replied and he wept at her words, seeing nothing through the tears that flooded his face. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her abruptly, heard her gasp for air as he settled her on the wooden table, lifting her gown with an impatient flick of his hand.

"Fucking prove it." He exhaled, her legs instantly spread in front of him as if she knew exactly what he wanted, with an aggressive, quick movement he slid the material of his breeches lower and pulled her closer to him, not giving her time to react in any way before the fat head of his cock was already halfway inside her tight, throbbing cunt.

"− f-fuck − ah −" She cried out, tilting her head back; he groaned loudly, feeling relieved that she was wet despite the lack of his caresses. This revelation made him slam his manhood deep between her slick folds with the greedy thrusts of his hips; she laid back and pulled him to her, he leaned on his hands lying on either side of her head, panting along with her.

"− did you do it? −" He muttered helplessly, rooting into her with quick, deep thrusts, his lips parted wide as he felt how quickly she became moist, her tight, fleshy walls adjusted to his size, clenching against him. She shook her head quickly and squealed loudly as one of his hands slapped her buttock, leaving on it a red mark.

"− don't fucking lie −" He hissed out, feeling her wet muscles squeeze him wonderfully, sucking him inside her fleshy, hot interior; she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him, clenching her fingers helplessly on the material of his emerald tunic.

"− I don't − I don't − mghmm −" She mumbled with difficulty, his hand ran over her cheek, his thumb dug into her soft skin, parting her lips, their bodies slamming against each other quickly with a loud, lewd slaps.

"− you will leave me − betray me −" He breathed out on the verge of a sob, pressing his forehead against hers, panting and groaning loudly along with her, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of how good it felt to be inside her, her fingers weaving into his hair, her puffy, soft lips beginning to brush his face with soft, tender kisses.

"− no − no, my love − I chose you − gods, there was always only you −" She moaned pleadingly, and he gasped loudly, closing his eyes as he felt a sudden relief, thrusting into her for a moment more with deep, sloppy slaps, his hot seed filling her again, giving him a semblance of peace and fulfilment.

She put her arms around his neck and he pulled her upwards, snuggling her into himself, burying his face in the hollow of her neck, trying to calm himself, not knowing himself who he believed, what he wanted, what he felt.

He burst into tears.

For the first time so loud, so mournful, for the first time in this way.

He was afraid, afraid of losing her, of having to kill her, of having to live again in a world where she would not be by his side.

He shuddered when she hushed him quietly, when her hands began to stroke his hair, his neck, his back, her lips placing soft, gentle, lingering kisses on his skin, when he heard her whispering in his ear.

"After the first night following our arrival in King's Landing, after the night I spent with you, my father gave me a choice. He said:

If you want to marry him, I will help you, but if you decide otherwise, you will never send him a letter again."

And I decided. Against everyone and everything, uncle."

He felt his fingers involuntarily tighten on her back at her words – he froze all over, feeling heat in his lower abdomen and heart, some kind of hope that he tried to suppress with thoughts that it was a trap.

"He doesn't know you're my wife. He doesn't know you're here of your own free will." He said in a tired, empty voice, his half-hard manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

"That's why you should take me with you."

[loryn-art]

Last panels for my Wakfu Moder AU series ->

I don't know if I'll ever write something about this AU but I love it more and more. Probably some scenes will be made into short comics, but I'm afraid of spoiling too much of the story that way…

For now I think I'll just make some character sheets, probably more about the Eliatrope Goddess as a human form ? Or more about the dragons ? Tell me what you want to know !

Qilby :

Given age - 40~ / Real age - +250

Older than Glip, but still looks younger, does he have special abilities/powers because he's the first born ? (He also has the ability to remember all of his past lives here.)

Tall.

I couldn't find anything that looked like what I really wanted for Shinonome's form, so I went with a sort of mix of different birds for her. (I'm probably going to change her appearance soon anyway...)

Same with Qilby's profession, I guess he's like a very famous scientist but prefers to stay in the shadows. He's like a consultant who works with a lot of different scientists and historians, and gives them his opinion and knowledge when they need it.

Spends his time travelling to various archaeological sites around the world. (Portals are SO convenient for this...)

His apartment is a real cabinet of curiosities filled with books and all sorts of things he brings back from his travels.

He's also supposed to smoke e-cigarettes, but I'm not sure about what flavor, I want something that reminds him of his home planet.

Has a LOTS of diplomas.

Left-handed.

Fluent in several languages.

Yugo :

Given age 20~ / Real age - 20 (how is this possible ? I'm still looking for an explanation...)

Very athletic and popular in his faculty~

Has the same group of friends for years now, they take care of each other like a family.

The Tofu key chain is one of Amalia's gift because he loves birds.

I have no idea what he could actually study :p Any suggestions ?

Skating.

Wears a cat beanie to hide his wings.

Adamai takes the form of a white wolf-like dog, with blue eyes. And a WEIRD smile.

Has tons of pictures of him and his friends~

A collection of beanies. (Most of them are actually gifts)

These are the very first drafts for my Au so please keep in mind that many things may change. I'll probably post something about the Eliatrop goddess next week, but her story is still a mystery to me… I have some ideas but nothing really solid at the moment.

*Returns in the shadows*

[bogkeep]

Would you recommend the SSSS comic? I know little of it beside the very beautiful artstyle and premise

to answer the question of if i would recommend SSSS as a comic: yes, yes i would.

a description for those who don't know: Stand Still Stay Silent is a post-apocalyptic horror + adventure webcomic set in the nordics (norway, sweden, denmark, finland, iceland) that have been isolated from the rest of the world and gone back to their old gods. the the world outside of safe zones is full of trolls and beasts - humans and mammals that got infected by a horrible virus and turned into monsters. the story follows a ragtag crew that ventures into the old world (derelict denmark) on an expedition to collect books.

the comic updated every workday until it concluded in 2022, and consists of two Adventures. the creator had plans for many adventures with these characters in this world, but ended it after two when she wanted to take a new direction with her life.

what i love about it:

- the art is GORGEOUS. it's been a huge source of inspiration for me. open any page and it's a masterpiece, and you will ask yourself "how the FUCK did she update this FIVE DAYS A WEEK"

- the characters are wonderful and endearing. i just, i love them so much. i am so thankful lalli hotakainen exists he is one of my #1 blorbos forever

- the world is so cool. the blend of chunky sci-fi and norse mythology fantasy magic slaps. it goes so hard. i fell so hard for this comic when i got to the big ferry ship with a viking style dragon head prow added to it. it's everything

- it really really gets nordic cultures. it's difficult to explain all the dynamics and nuances but it just gets it. it brings me as a scandinavian a lot of joy to read a story that speaks to my heart this way. the attitudes, the language barriers, the cultural differences... it was so refreshing to me in a media landscape dominated by american stories. when the pandemic hit, i decided to reread the comic because i found such an odd comfort in seeing how it depicted the scandinavian countries reacting to, well, a pandemic.

- there's kittycats

what i don't like about it:

- the most glaring and obvious flaw is that everyone in the comic is white. there's not a single character of color anywhere, not even i background shots or the prologue. there's no mention of the saami people (the indigenous people of northern europe), either. i believe this was done in ignorance more than malicious intent, but the implications are Extremely Bad and it's been bothering me (AND MANY OTHERS) since day 1. that is the number one caveat i will give to anyone wanting to check this comic out. i've been in the discourse trenches and i am not going to excuse this. it's just bad!

- you can tell in the middle of adventure 2 that the creator has kind of lost interest in the work, around the time when she found jesus i guess. like, very few people can keep up work on the same creative project for years and years and years and i think it's fine that she wanted to drop it, but it's a bit sad to see the comic dragged to its end like a limp corpse, and feeling like the creator no longer really cares about the characters.

- minna sundberg has said and done some questionable things, presumably gotten somewhat radicalised over time, and has also converted to hardcore christianity which is what her new works are about. there's nothing about this in SSSS - there is a moment of christianity represented in the story in a sort of mythological sense, just like the other religions, but this was written before minna's conversion. her new works... are a Choice. i have much to say about them, and i have, and im not gonna rehash it now.

SO YEAH hopefully this will help you take an Informed Choice! i got into this comic in 2015 and was deep in the fandom and it's for better or for worse part of my soul foundation now.

i also recommend A Redtail's Dream, minna's "practice comic" before SSSS, based on finnish mythology and the kalevala.