#-SO SO SO SO SO happy that they like it :> their enjoyment of one of my longest running interests has brought me so much joy and made an-

[solxamber]

Receiving Gifts on White Day with: Diasomnia

go here for other dorms

Malleus Draconia

When you open the door, Malleus is standing there, holding a beautifully wrapped box in his hands. His expression is as composed as ever, but the slight flicker of his emerald eyes tells you that he’s very eager to see your reaction.

“Good morning,” he greets, his deep voice carrying the faintest hint of anticipation. “I have prepared a White Day gift for you.”

You take the box and open it, revealing an assortment of chocolates—each piece clearly made with care. They’re not perfect, some a little misshapen, but they are undeniably charming in their effort. Your heart melts at the sight.

“You made these yourself?” you ask, grinning.

Malleus nods proudly. “Indeed. I wanted to reciprocate your Valentine’s gift with something just as heartfelt.”

Your chest tightens with affection—until your eyes land on one particular chocolate in the corner. It is… moving.

You flinch. “Uh. Malleus?”

He follows your gaze and hums. “Ah, yes. That one is special.”

Special. Right. It has eyes. It’s breathing.

You slowly close the lid.

Malleus tilts his head. “Lilia assisted me with that piece.”

Of course he did.

You glance at him, then at the box, and then back at him. “You know what? I love it. Every single piece in here, even the one that may or may not be sentient.”

Malleus beams. It’s rare to see his face light up this much, and honestly, it makes the potentially cursed chocolate worth it.

“You are truly remarkable,” he murmurs, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Not many would accept such a gift so gracefully.”

You laugh nervously.

Malleus chuckles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I am truly fortunate to have you.”

…Okay, fine. He could give you a whole box of haunted chocolates, and you’d still be weak for him.

Lilia Vanrouge

The moment you open the door, Lilia practically bounces into view, grinning like he’s just pulled off the world’s greatest prank. In one hand, he holds a sleek, professionally wrapped box of chocolates. In the other…

A chaotic mess that vaguely resembles chocolate, but also looks like it could be an eldritch abomination.

“Happy White Day, my dear!” he sings, shoving both boxes at you.

You blink. “Uh.” You cautiously take both, eyeing the homemade one with the caution of a soldier defusing a bomb. “Lilia…?”

He winks. “One is a gift from the store, the other is a gift from the heart.”

You slowly open the homemade one, bracing yourself. Inside, the chocolates vary wildly in shape, size, and—disturbingly—some seem to have an unidentified glow.

One of them twitches.

You slam the lid shut.

Lilia chuckles. “Oh ho! Do not fear, my love! They are completely edible. Probably.”

You squint at him.

“…Okay, so which box do you want me to eat from?” you ask cautiously.

He laughs. “Both, of course! The store-bought ones for your enjoyment, and mine for… adventure!”

You look between the two boxes. You do love him. And you do want to make him happy.

You sigh, picking the least suspicious homemade chocolate and popping it into your mouth. The taste hits you—somehow both overwhelming and vaguely concerning—but you manage to keep a straight face.

Lilia grins. “So? What do you think?”

“…I think I love you very much,” you say, because that is the only thing keeping you going right now.

Lilia cackles before pulling you into a tight embrace. “Ah, my beloved, you are truly fearless! That’s why I adore you so.”

Silver Vanrouge

The door opens to reveal Silver, standing there with a box in his hands, looking just a little nervous. His silver hair is slightly tousled, as if he had been pacing before knocking, and his eyes soften the moment he sees you.

“Good morning,” he says quietly, offering you the box. “Happy White Day.”

You take the gift, smiling. “Did you make these yourself?”

He nods, shifting slightly. “I wanted to. I’m not the best at this sort of thing, but… I wanted it to be from me.”

You open the box, and inside are neatly made chocolates—nothing extravagant, but clearly crafted with care. Each piece is meticulously shaped, and though they’re not perfectly uniform, you can see the effort he put into them.

Your heart melts.

“Silver.” You look up at him, touched beyond words. “These are amazing.”

His ears turn pink. “You haven’t even tried them yet.”

You take one and pop it into your mouth. The taste is simple but delicious, a rich cocoa flavor melting on your tongue.

Your eyes widen. “Silver. These are really good.”

His lips part slightly, as if he wasn’t expecting that. “…I’m glad.” Then, hesitating only for a second, he reaches up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I wanted to make sure you had something special.”

Your heart does an Olympic-level flip.

Without thinking, you step forward and kiss his cheek. Silver freezes, eyes wide in shock.

“…You okay?” you ask, amused.

“I—” He clears his throat, looking away, his blush deepening. “Yes. Just… processing.”

You grin, stepping closer to wrap your arms around him. He relaxes instantly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You sigh against his shoulder. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

Silver’s arms tighten around you. “Only for you.”

…You might just melt for real this time.

Sebek Zigvolt

The second you open the door, you are immediately hit with—

“HUH?! YOU’RE STILL IN YOUR NIGHTCLOTHES?! UNACCEPTABLE!”

Sebek stands before you, arms crossed, looking like he is about to launch into a full lecture on the importance of morning discipline. However, his stern expression crumbles the moment he remembers why he’s actually here.

He clears his throat, straightens his posture, and—without warning—drops to one knee.

You blink. “Um—”

“MY HUMAN!” he declares, voice practically shaking the walls. “I HAVE COME TO RETURN YOUR VALENTINE’S GIFT WITH SOMETHING WORTHY OF YOUR AFFECTION!”

You stare at him. He stares at you. Grim, who is still half-asleep on your shoulder, groans. “Too early for this, get him outta here.”

Ignoring Grim entirely, Sebek proudly thrusts a neatly wrapped gift box in your direction. His face is on fire, but his eyes are filled with pure determination.

You accept it with a smile. “Thank you, Sebek."

“OPEN IT,” he demands, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Inside is a set of chocolates—not perfectly made, but clearly painstakingly crafted. Some pieces are slightly uneven, and a few have clumsy drizzles of chocolate, but there’s an undeniable heartfelt effort in every one.

Your chest tightens.

“You made these yourself?” you ask softly.

Sebek huffs, puffing out his chest. “OF COURSE! I REFUSED TO RELY ON STORE-BOUGHT GOODS WHEN MAKING AN OFFERING TO YOU!”

Your heart melts.

You take a bite, and the taste—surprisingly—is very good. A bit too much cocoa powder, maybe, but the richness of the flavor is unmistakable. You glance at Sebek, who is watching you with the intensity of a knight awaiting a verdict from their king.

“Soooo?” he asks, trying (and failing) to sound casual.

You grin. “They’re delicious.”

Sebek visibly stops breathing for a second before his whole face erupts into a deep, embarrassed shade of red.

“A—AHAHA! OF COURSE! NATURALLY, I WOULD NOT PRESENT YOU WITH ANYTHING LESS THAN EXCELLENCE!” His voice definitely cracks at the end, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

Your heart is already doing somersaults, but then Sebek does something that actually catches you off guard—he hesitates for a moment before suddenly leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

Your soul leaves your body.

“…For your affection,” he mutters, ears practically glowing.

You stare at him, speechless.

He immediately springs to his feet, clearing his throat. “A-ANYWAY! I MUST RETURN TO MY DUTIES! ENJOY YOUR GIFT!”

And with that, he marches away at full speed, leaving you standing in the doorway, clutching your chocolates and replaying that forehead kiss in your mind like a broken record.

Masterlist

[sentanixiv]

Mmmkay, folks. Buckle up, because Kichi here has a BOOK REC for y'all.

Winter's Orbit, written by Everina Maxwell, is my favourite book of 2025. Released in 2021. I'm super timely, shhhh.

I bought it in January. Read it. Promptly went out and bought three more copies to gift to my sister and two friends. Because it's that good. That enjoyable.

Why do I love it so much? Read on for details, CW, and some spoilers.

CW: Abuse (emotional, mental, verbal, physical, sexual), victim blaming, trauma reactions, re-victimization, survival (environmental and emotional)

First off: IT IS ACTUALLY A HAPPY ENDING AND OVERALL REALLY ENJOYABLE READ.

Now, why I'm so fixated on this book:

I make no effort to hide that I'm an abuse survivor, nor that the controlling abuse and abuser destroyed my will to write for 10+ years and, in part, drove me out of the writing industry. RDR2 revived me, which is another story.

BUT.

This book? Does trauma reactions right when it comes to being a survivor. And the narrator, when it comes around to his POV, is not intentionally unreliable. He shuts down. Completely. He faces fear and anxiety and goes into survival mode seamlessly, he struggles to understand what is expected of him. He feels helpless and LOST without the rules that'd been defined by fear and abuse suffered in prior circumstances. He does everything he can not to inconvenience another to avoid the lashing out it would've previously triggered.

In short, everything that he goes through rang familiar echoes to my own experiences, especially to my recovery from it. I still face fear and anxiety when a friend or partner (lawl, like I can manage a relationship) is ambiguous in any response and it's been over ten years since I broke free. I still seek out therapy specific to trust and connection issues, because I've repeated the pattern thrice since then - and extricated myself each time. But my judgement is damaged because I was taken advantage for repeatedly. I am still afraid more often than not, so I feel for this character.

Reading Winter's Orbit brought to the forefront of some bad memories, too, because the initial plot reminded me of the 2+ manuscripts that my abuser and I wrote together and are never meant to see the light of day, because I made sure to salt and burn any chance she had of using them. BUT I'm still fond of the stories we'd told, so reading a book that hit on similar themes made me think about them a lot. And, yes, because I'm paranoid I did a deep dig to ensure that the author was NOT my abuser (and they are not, happy to say!).

That said, reading the novel and working through the perspective of the abuse survivor helped me to understand that I'm not the only one to have felt the shit I felt. To have blamed myself and worried or panicked because I didn't understand in the aftermath that I didn't need to sculpt myself into an expectation. That I could be myself. Knowing that someone out there understood enough to write such a compelling journey through it really helped de-isolate me, separate me from this toxic conviction that I was and am the problem, that I failed in both being caught and in breaking free.

So, it was therapeutic for me, in a sense. But also enjoyable as a whole.

Tangled words, but summation: Abuse survivor and trauma reactions done RIGHT. Also, snazzy science fiction. And BEARS. Ish.

I cannot thank the author enough for writing and sharing it. I'm sad, in a sense, that I only recently encountered it, but after what happened with Discount Dutch, it took me a long time to start engaging in the world around me.

So, if you made it here, thanks. Also: READ THIS BOOK.

Actual footage of the bookstore cashiers when I walked up with THREE copies to buy:

That is all. Now I go off to edit smutfic. I salute y'all!

PEOPLE. Look at this GLORIOUS COVER they made. This book is QUEER AS HELL and they just went for it.

The official cover bit: While the Iskat Empire has long dominated the system through treaties and political alliances, several planets, including Thea, have begun to chafe under Iskat’s rule. When tragedy befalls Imperial Prince Taam, his Thean widower, Jainan, is rushed into an arranged marriage with Taam’s cousin, the disreputable Kiem, in a bid to keep the rising hostilities between the two worlds under control.

But when it comes to light that Prince Taam’s death may not have been an accident, and that Jainan himself may be a suspect, the unlikely pair must overcome their misgivings and learn to trust one another as they navigate the perils of the Iskat court, try to solve a murder, and prevent an interplanetary war… all while dealing with their growing feelings for each other.

It’s out on February 2nd, you can preorder independently here, or on Kindle etc here!

[merakiui]

Those eldritch Riddle posts/asks really takes "house of horror" and "house of pleasure" to another level. It's funny i realize now i dont think ive seen a lot of yandere stories/concepts with monster houses where the monster is kinda both part of the house itself and its own emtoty, i really like it

(there is one about a house as a monster here on tumblr but thats a bit more literal "house monster" lol)

For everyone else, a house of horrors. For darling (and only darling), a house of pleasure and love hehe. ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

I love imagining Riddle and the house as one but also separate!! Like a pupa in its chrysalis. The house is Riddle, but then it’s also his cage. >:D he’s like a butterfly that’s never had the chance to become one and be free. I realize I’ve characterized him to be more insect-like (at least as far as symbolism goes) while Azul is more so the forest abomination who uses mimicry and emotional camouflage as a means to get by.

But I’m happy it’s an enjoyable distinction!!! Riddle’s dream in book 7, specifically the house, gave me so many thoughts…… orz

(A house as a monster is always a very fun concept to play with!!! I love a house full of horrors and monstrosity, even more so if the house itself is the main horror. :D)

[what-have-i-unleashed]

IM ON TIME FOR THE WHITE DAY GIFTS LETS GO?!

OMG TRICYCLE I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FINISHED THIS ON TIME 💖💖💖 THANK YOU FOR THE GRINDING 🙏🙏🙏 I WILL TREASURE THIS 💥💥💥

eheheh i'm glad it's not only three arts but also specifically three fanart of my fanfics 😭😭😭 tis an honor tricycle 😭😭😭

of course there's netverse with murder 🧣 and killer 🔪 (your favorite 'verse of mine i assume :3). heheh any art with killer being a failboy i will accept wholeheartedly 🥰🥰🥰 worst meet-cute ever.... meet-disaster even... heh i'm just so glad netverse has one fan out there, even if it's you :3 /silly

and YES HORRORKILLER 🪓🔪 CRUMBS FOR THE SEVEN HRKL FANS OUT THERE 🙏🙏🙏 YOU GUYS ARE EATING GOOD WITH THIS ONE FANART FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON 💥💥💥 aww i love the way you draw their expressions... they look so soft and comfortable for real. most comfort duo ship out of the fuckass mtt poly of this 'verse for sure 🥰🥰🥰 wowie i hope nothing bad ever happens to them wowie 😇😇😇

and... the BIRTHDAY FIC??? TRICYCLE LIKES MY BIRTHDAY FIC??? OMG HELL IS FROZEN OVER 🙏🙏🙏 but i'm gonna eating this anyway ‼️‼️‼️ eheheh i love tormenting the muse and seeing this makes me so!!! happy!!! 😭😭😭 tricycle i'm not an artist but i can tell you've improved on your background a lot and i love it waaaaugh the colors are so good 💖💖💖 you should be proud of yourself and happy white day fellow mtt enjoyer 🫡🫡🫡

[shatcey]

Vivi's answers (translation + my comments)

I'm not familiar with JP, and the way I've translated all of this MAY not be entirely accurate. And I'm definitely not aware of some of the specific terms and jokes that could be used here. For this reason, I am adding screenshots from X/Twitter with the original text, and below I give my translation. And I used a gender-neutral (green) color for the questions. It's NOT because I don't like pink, I just chose a gender-neutral color!!!

Vivi is… so… different… I'm delighted!

Victor began with a very enthusiastic greeting.

Come, come here! I've been waiting for you! How are you feeling today? Let me hear your cute voice!

And a few minutes later he answered one of the reply to his previous post.

Yes, yes, you are the most lovely when you are full of energy! Let's have a good time today!

We start the tea party, so Vivi asks what we would like to eat (am I the only one who, after hearing "tea party", thinks about tea and lots of sweets?)

I've prepared a lot of things today, I hope you enjoy it… scones with extra butter, chocolate, fish and chips… Which ones do you like?

He answered a few questions. Mostly people wanted his signature scones. But one of them asked about the chocolate

I love chocolate♡

Thank you for the chocolate you gave me the other day. It probably won't compare to the one you gave me, but I'm sure this one is delicious as well.

and one about fish and chips

Fish and chips (≧∇≦)

I just fried them up to deliver them hot and fresh. Enjoy my homemade fish and chips!

After that he remind us that it is a White Day

Today is White Day, so I want to express my gratitude to you with lots of thanks. Of course, I always appreciate you, but today is even more special, isn't?

And now… He will read our questions (yeah, let's pretend that we believe him)

Right, let's check the report you prepared! You have something you want to ask me? Let's see...

About loneliness (not as subtle as you think, Vivi).

Victor, thank you for your hard work as always! I'm so happy to have tea with Victor 💠 so happy~ Without further ado, I have a question! I have to live alone in a quite distant area soon. Could you give me some advice on how to feel less lonely?

Good job! I'm happy to have fun with you as well. Leaving familiar places can be a bit lonely, right? But I think it will be nice to explore new places too! It's important to find a place where you don't feel lonely, isn't it? For example, right next to me.

Cooking advice (I'm not sure if I got it right… I literally turned the translated sentence upside down)

The other day I tried the sweets Victor recommended! I remember you often make scones, but I wonder if Victor likes to make any other sweets. Also I'm not a very good cook… Victor knows how to cook more than just sweets. Could you please give some tips on how to cook when you are busy!

Thank you, I'm glad you like them because they are all my favorite sweets. I make it while imagining the faces of everyone at the Crown enjoying it. When you make something thinking about the person who will eat it, you naturally feel happy. Alright, how about we practice cooking together? Let's start with scones, what do you say?

Deserted island (he's so cute…)

When you woke up in the morning, you was a deserted island. 🏝️ What would Victor do first…? 🤔

I'll check if you're safe next to me. When I'm on the deserted island, I'm sure you'll be with me as well. Until the others from the Crown come to pick us up, how about we develop the deserted island together and make it like a tourist spot? As long as you're with me, I'll be happy no matter where I am.

If you're in love? (I'm… not suprised)

How would you act towards a person you like?

It may not be obvious from my behavior… but deep down I hope you fall madly in love with me.

Post of adoration

Since meeting Victor, every day has been truly enjoyable.🫶 Thank you for meeting me.🥹💖 I hope you will continue to be with me ❣️ I love you ❣️

Thank you, I'm glad I met you too. I've enjoyed every day since I met you. You're a jewel that sparkles and lights up my days. Keep shining by my side in the future.

How do you relax? (it's not creepy at all)

Victor, I am very grateful to you for hosting the tea party, despite the fact that I are so busy. However, I would like to ask you something. I was planning to relax on my day off, but I ended up thinking about work. How can I make sure to spend my free time relaxing?

No matter how busy I am, I'll make time for you! It's common to think about work on weekends, right? But at this time, I'm always thinking about you. I wonder if you've woken up yet, what you've eaten today, and if I should come over to your place… I think about you even on weekends.

How to stay positive?

Lately, I've noticed that my mood has been declining and I've been feeling negative🌀 How can I lift my spirits and get through the day?😭

You don't have to force yourself to cheer up. But if you want to feel happy, I'll do it for you. Just call me anytime, lady.

Pamper me, Victor! (I'm blushing. Victor knows how to hint. I am very, very happy!)

Sometimes the work is tough, but when I see Victor working hard as the Queen's aide and with Crown, it makes me want to do my best as well. But... I also want to receive a reward. So, today… I would like to add extra butter… I want to pamper Victor and I want Victor to pamper me as well…

Asking for a reward is always welcome. I'm always up for a treat, I'm always up for spoiling you. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll make it happen. Even things like this as well... Oops, maybe that's a bit too stimulating.

Where is Victor's room? (creepy yandere… of course, I'm just imagining. I can't believe he said "fu-fu"… This is Gilbert and Ellis' favorite word!!!)

How are the rooms arranged at Crown Castle? I don't know where Victor's room is, so I want to ask before I get lost.

Fufu, I'm sorry, I imagined you getting lost looking for my room, and it was so cute that I couldn't hide my feelings. Someday you'll see my room. You don't have to know where the rooms of the other Crown members, do you? You don't have to go… into some other guy's room besides me, right? Just kidding.

Stuffed toys (so Vivi made the Ellis' toy which was in the "Sick Jude" card??? WHAT????)

Could you help me make a stuffed toy of a ruthless intelligent gangster? 🥹 I also want all the Crown members' stuffed toys to be filled with Vic's love. 💜

Do you like making stuffed toys too? I'm glad that you and I have a common hobby! Okay, this is Jude's stuffed toy, right? I made Ellis's toys the other day, so I'll help you put them next to each other as fast as I can! If I get caught and he gets angry, we'll share the blame.

What do you find sexy? (blushing furiously. Who is this man?)

I think Victor's lip mole is sexy💕,but could you tell me what you consider sexy about yourself?✨

Thank you, I don't really know myself, but I'm happy to hear you say I'm sexy. I wonder where else I'm sexy... Could you tell me? Go ahead, feel free to touch...

Except for sweets

Sorry to interrupt your sweet tea time 🙇‍♀️ Is Victor good with spicy or sour foods?

I can eat anything delicious! In fact, I don't have anything that I don't like. What about you? I would like to know your food preferences so that I can invite you to dinner.

A bad boss (you can't concentrate… and how will you do your job if she's going to be always by your side on your route, I wonder…)

I always go to work before 7am, before anyone else, and I work hard, but my boss is always complaining and scolding me. Honestly, I'm really exhausted… I wish I had a boss like Victor ……

Yeah, if I were your boss, I'd just keep praising and pampering you… Not good, you might be too cute for me to focus on work. Thank you for your hard work every day. I'm very proud of all the effort you put in.

A small problem

I was faithful to my evil nature and fed my body with sweets, and now I stuck in the swimming ring and cannot take it off! What should I do?! 😭

Sorry, you really are in trouble, but… …you're just too cute!!!! Do I really have to take it? If you insist, I guess I have no choice. When you put in the effort, I have to put in the effort as well.

Pep-talk! (This is deep. It took me a while to figure out what he meant)

I've been thinking about Victor too much and I can't focus on finding a job. 😭 I would be happy if you would scold me a little 🙇

Scolding… Can't a kiss serve the same purpose? I'm sure you'll be fine, you'll make the choice yourself. Believe in yourself more than anyone else, and if you can't, I want you to believe in yourself as much as I believe in you.

The shrinked Crown member (I'm not sure about Vivi's reply… he suddenly switched from "you" to "me".. so it's weird)

What would you do if a Crown member suddenly shrank due to some drug or something, Victor…!? Will you take good care of them...? 💭

Come to think of it, there was an incident like that the other day… I'm going to ask you to write a report next time. Of course, I'll take good care of them! And if I suddenly get small, I'd like you to look after me.

What do you do on your day off? (He's so sweet!!!)

Having tea party with Victor feels like a dream come true☕️🫖 Today, I brought you these 【💀scones】 that I made with you in mind🫡✨ Let's all eat together🍽️ What does Victor do on his days off from work?? 🤔🖤

Thank you! Wow… I'm so happy! But I can't share it with everyone. This is just for me. I rarely get a full day off, but I often go to buy gifts for Crown. But if I can spend time with you, I'll make as much time off as you need.

Hairstyles (The first and most important! Kate has a hairstyle, and it's cute!!! And again… Who is this man? I'm blushing furiously)

Victor is the only character with long hair, but does he do any hair styling? Please make Komadori's hair cute too❣️

I don't do hair arranging, but you can have as much as you want! Touching your hair makes me want to touch more parts of you, and I'm happy to reach out if that's what you want.

About drinks (will it be in his "Chronicles" or on his route???)

Victor is very good at handling alcohol, but what kind of alcohol does he drink most often? 🍷 By the way, is William still the member of the Crown you drink with most often?

Wine, I think… The first time William and I drank wine together, that day he was …… Fufu, I should stop. Someday, I'll tell you about our meeting and the beginning of the Crown.

Then was a poll, I mentioned earlier.

Then he said he wouldn't let us go (not creepy at all)

You're such a troublesome child, but it's cute as well. Is it okay if I'm going to take you seriously? I'll make sure that you can't escape from me. Just kidding, did that surprise you?

And after that, they provided us with information about the release date.

I am very glad that they added a real-time interactive part. This kind of adds realism to this tea party. And I like that Vivi (although I still think it wasn't him) was quite recognizable. Cute and funny. On his English release, I need to prepare a more serious question. I want to hear a serious answer from him. I like that side of him too.

In the end… he did not answer about how long ago and why he started growing his hair (there was such a question, maybe even more than one), how he takes care of them. He shrugged off the question about his favorite food. I'm sure he's not being completely honest. I don't know why I'm so sure of that. Maybe I just don't wanna think about how much he and Ally have in common. It gives me the creeps.

Obviously, he wasn't answering questions about his secrets…

And… I'm a little worried about his sudden shift from subtle (or not so) hints to outright flirting… It's so unexpected, and I'm completely unprepared for it.

And I really hope to hear about Crown from the Chronicles. It should be in the Chronicles. His route should be more dedicated to him than to the boys… Am I expecting too much?

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

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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

[thebroccolination]

A 4AM REFLECTION ON GL VS. BL

My enjoyment of a GL series is directly connected to how women are socialized in reality and then portrayed in media.

I have a very limited number of cis men in my life due to the prevalence of cis men who strike me as either outright dangerous or else red-pilled into idealizing the kind of society in which straight cis men are catered and capitulated to even to the detriment of everyone else. I grew up around some very intelligent straight cis men who would explain in very reasonable voices why anything else would be silly. I know a broad spectrum of what to look for, so it’s been relatively easy for me to avoid men like that in adulthood.

I’m bored and obliquely revolted by traditionally masculine male characters unless the narrative presents me with a nuanced portrayal of how the emotional rigidity and detachment of male-dominated societies affect cis men and their relationships with people of other genders. (“Mad Men” does this for me in spades.)

That’s why SOTUS works so well. In the series’ narrative, the hazing system is presented as a flawed way of enabling closer bonds between older and younger students who wouldn’t otherwise have a reason to talk to each other due to cultural hierarchies structured by age. (Arthit’s actor Krist—who was a hazer himself—has said that, since the abolishment of the SOTUS system, his juniors have told him that they mostly stick to their own age groups in school. So he said that while he understands the reasons it was abolished, his own experiences and closeness to his seniors complicates his feelings about losing the system entirely.) In SOTUS and SOTUS S, every head hazer we see is a man trying to make his era a little better than those of his predecessors. Arthit is improving on Tum, and Kongphob is improving on Arthit.

Outside the hazing, Kongphob and Arthit’s relationship is a slowburn between 1) a shy, sweet boy literally nicknamed “Warmth” (Oon) who’s masquerading as a brusque authority figure and 2) an assertive, confident boy whose relentless determination to see and care for Arthit eventually results in a mutually devoted, long-term relationship.

[This man helped that man study economics in the evenings after his full-time engineering job—that’s the purest love there is.]

But SOTUS only works for me if it’s about two boys. A heterosexual series in which Kongphob is a girl and Arthit is a boy would just be another heavily promoted ideal that a woman should be a man’s peace—the sweet lie behind a metric ton of violence against women throughout history. Instead, Kongphob is a boy who uses attributes commonly considered masculine (assertiveness, confidence, leadership) to protect and care for another boy.

And Arthit, who’s shown in flashbacks to initially be quite gentle in his first year, goes through a full arc throughout all three iterations of the story struggling with what kind of man he thinks he needs to be to avoid societal judgment and the potential ostracization of the man he loves.

Even down to the academics, engineering was deliberately chosen as their faculty to subvert stereotypes of “masculine” majors and play with audience expectations. SOTUS works because it presented a tender queer love story in the contexts of aggressively masculine settings: an engineering student and his hazer who goes on to work in STEM. That’s why it was the BL series that set the standard and changed everything.

(Every one of my posts could be a Trojan horse to SOTUS.)

All of the BL couples I love most challenge toxic masculinity. From soft-spoken Thame who relentlessly talks through all of his issues and Po who refuses to take advantage of him, to “don’t you dare disrespect my boyfriend with crass innuendo” Win and “I would rather give you up than be another person who uses your kindness” Team, to loyal-beyond-all-reasonable-expectations Pisaeng and “I’ll change time itself if it means making you happy” Kawi—they all challenge some standard set by society that makes the world demonstrably worse for everyone.

So that’s why I like BL.

GL, though.

That’s where things get complex.

Where BL is a genre that deconstructs the Other, GL is my backyard. The vast majority of my wider and inner circle are female-presenting queer folk, so I’m automatically going to side-eye anything that hits me as inauthentic or male-gazey.

I spend my life surrounded by the complexity and immensity of women’s interiority and potential, so I viscerally despise societal and cultural limitations set on them as well as misrepresentation done to them. Basically, I’m immediately bored by any GL that gives me Kind Girl Falls in Love with Other Kind Girl and Everyone Is Kind Because Girls Are Kind.

Those aren’t the sapphic relationships I know and love.

First of all, we’re not all kind.

Second, where’s the grit?

Most of the queer women I’ve ever met have been made nuanced by the hostility of the world. Even when they aren’t well-read or politically active, they’re still savvy in some way because they’ve learned from experience to be on guard against potential threats from multiple angles. A lot of queer women are extremely funny as a coping or defense mechanism, too.

Queer women are so much more interesting and complicated than many of the characters I’ve seen in GL (so far).

That’s why I love Anin from “The Loyal Pin” so much. She’s a royal whose privilege gives her a leg up in society and the perceived freedom to have whatever she wants in any form she chooses. The narrative does eventually give her what she wants (happy endings are a requirement in romance this isn’t a spoiler) but it makes her work for it, and she has her worldview challenged multiple times beforehand.

Also, she’s funny.

Let women in GL be goddamn funny.

A lot of queer men have my issue with GL when they watch BL—not seeing their lived experiences onscreen. The lack of femme men, the underrepresentation of trans men, the application of heterosexual roles onto their dynamics, etc. I think we’re all innately harder on stories that present anything we have direct knowledge of, and I think these conversations are important to have so we understand what these stories need more of in the future.

Unfortunately, GL series that subvert societal norms for women are harder to get from an industry largely controlled by conservative men who want girls to be ladies and women to be quiet. But it’s not impossible. SOTUS wasn’t expected to do anything or go anywhere when it aired. The impact it had was an enormous shock. Tha thought it was weird until it made him money.

I think the GL series we have are improving dramatically as we get more of them and the audience for GL becomes a more and more reliable platform for future financial success. I think influential industry supporters like Saint are driving the change I want to see, and I already know of several GL series airing this year that seem intent on providing a lot of what I’ve been missing in others.

I’m looking forward to the day when my top ten list is an equal split between BL and GL, and when I can finally write the BL/GL crossover fic to surpass MUSE. \o/

[the-way-astray]

seriously don't understand what you all find so fascinating about alvar and keefe's relationship like at all

first of all, alvar shows little to no remorse for his actions, so no, he has not gotten a redemption arc. he's still the same shitty guy as he always was, it's just that he likes pancakes now. a redemption arc isn't defined by the victims forgiving the perpetrator, sure, but the perpetrator has to actually, like, feel genuine remorse for their actions and do something to atone for it and show they've changed. none of which apply to alvar. alvar's arc is in no way shape or form a redemption arc. like stop calling it that it's objectively not true. every time i hear people refer to alvar's "arc" as a redemption arc i want to tear my hair out. as a redemption arc enjoyer this hurts my soul

keefe also does not feel guilty for hanging out with him at all, evidenced by, well, him not feeling guilty about it at all and also the fact that he thinks fitz is somehow in the wrong for not giving alvar another chance. if he truly felt bad for hanging around alvar, he would understand fitz's anger at least a little. also despite the fact that alvar freely admits he feels little to no regret for his actions and gives keefe no real proof he's changed, keefe leaves his hotel and credit card and whatnot to alvar and lets him off the hook entirely by the end. once again saying that's not just the mark of someone who's forgiven alvar, but also someone who trusts alvar, despite him having done nothing to earn that trust. fantastic

and are we going to ignore the fact that alvar and keefe spent most of unraveled entirely ignoring the fact that alvar helped kidnapped the girl keefe is supposedly over the moon for or . . . ? this is something they never talk about not once. same goes for everything else shitty alvar did. keefe and alvar just . . . conveniently sidestep those conversations entirely. we don't have a proper understanding for exactly what alvar's thought process was when he did those things because keefe never becomes uncomfortable enough around alvar's presence to ask those hard questions and get those hard answers. alvar never talks about it because he's a happy go-lucky guy that just wants to hop around the globe and eat various kinds of pancakes now!!!! nothing he did before this matters!!!! or at least that's the way unraveled treats it. it's never brought up for longer than a few seconds. certainly keefe and alvar never dig into the depths of what that means. and think about this: keefe and alvar don't even have the same view of alvar's parents. keefe likes alden and della, or at least just della, whereas alvar (for some fucking reason) thinks they hate him and want him dead because he's an oldest child that's over a decade older than his siblings even though they love him just as much as their other kids. you'd think they would at least, at least, talk about this right? you'd think they'd come to some understanding about how they view alden and della, parental figures they both shared right? especially since it is brought up in legacy!!!! you'd think if their relationship had anything to it besides alvar teasing keefe for a spider falling into his hair they would fucking talk about this and come to some understanding of each other right? right????

not only is there no depth to this relationship, there's also no layers to it either. in canon there's not a single callback or flashback to a memory or incident that took place before keefe knew alvar was a traitor that could deepen their dynamic. saying keefe and alvar went back to their pre-betrayal dynamic in unraveled is a ridiculous statement seeing as how we don't actually know what their pre-betrayal relationship was like. honestly it sounds like alvar and keefe never hung out one-on-one at all, and that alvar was just someone keefe admired from afar. less close brotherly bond, more starstruck-idolizing kind of thing. if you get what i'm saying. that's how it always read to me, especially since alvar was never around much at all. and you don't have evidence to prove me wrong because we don't actually know what they were like pre-betrayal. it is never brought up ever. you'd think that if they'd had a pre-betrayal dynamic, it would be referenced right? like how alvar jokes about how itchy the neverseen cloaks are, referencing their time together when keefe was with the neverseen? like a simple "hey, keefe, remember when [something that occurred pre-betrayal between alvar and keefe] happened? that was so silly right?" would've at least proven that they had some form of a close relationship pre-betrayal. there's nothing like that in unraveled. once again saying that while it's stated that keefe looked up to alvar, it's never stated that they had any sort of close relationship. you are making this up and pretending it's canon!!!! it's not true!!!! in fact the evidence is against it!!!!

so to summarize. keefe doesn't feel guilty about hanging out with someone that traumatized his crush/girlfriend and did several other shitty things even though he shows little to no remorse (in canon). alvar has not actually done shit to redeem himself, nor does he particularly regret much of what he did (in canon). keefe and alvar do not have any hard conversations that could plausibly make keefe understand alvar more, or vice versa (in canon). keefe and alvar did not have a close pre-betrayal dynamic at all, keefe simply idolized alvar (in canon). like yes i can see the potential for this being interesting but like. that's quite literally where it ends. canon is not living up to this potential whatsoever. like you are making a dynamic up completely and pretending that's what's going on in canon when it is not . . . like don't get me wrong i understand the inclination (it's what i do with gethen since canon gethen is . . . lacking . . . ) but you cannot take your made up lore about keefe and alvar, bring it to a serious discussion about them, pretend it's what's shown in canon when it's not, and act like it makes their canon dynamic interesting, especially when canon directly contradicts your interpretation

[cheshireliam]

Victor Main Story: Chapter 0

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

If life were a fairytale, finding happiness would be simple.

All one would have to do was to avoid “doing the wrong thing”.

But in this lifetime, that was already impossible for me.

There was no “happy ending” waiting for me at the end of this path soaked in blood. 

I will fall into the darkness, and rot away unnoticed by anyone. 

That was the ending I wished for.

— I had long given up on everything. 

…

Middle-Aged Politician: Did you hear about Her Majesty?

Short-Haired Politician: About her not saying a single word to the foreign envoys who came to visit? 

Short-Haired Politician: What laughable behaviour for the ruler of a country. 

I was on my way to a parliamentary meeting when I overheard the gossiping.

Middle-Aged Politician: Her Majesty is truly strange, isn’t she? She never shows her face, and never speaks.

Middle-Age Politician: She leaves all her duties to that guy (the Queen's Aide). 

Middle-Aged Politician: I wonder if that Aide’s actions are really made on Her Majesty’s will. 

Short-Haired Politician: Who knows? But considering that man with an unknown origin holds the position of Queen’s Aide… 

Short-Haired Politician: Maybe “this” is the reason.

The man raised his pinky finger with a smirk.

Middle-Aged Politician: I don't know what tricks he pulled to secure his position, but there’s no other explanation for it.

I stopped behind them.

Victor: The conversation sounds enjoyable. Mind if I join in? 

Middle-Aged Politician: Wha—

The blood drained from their faces the moment I spoke.

Victor: I wonder what Her Majesty would think if she knew there were people in the palace insulting her.

Short-Haired Politician: T-that’s… 

Victor: Her Majesty is a kindhearted woman, so she might not punish you directly. 

I placed a hand on one of their shoulders and whispered in his ear.

Victor: But what about me? 

Middle-Aged Politician: —! 

They stood petrified on the spot, unable to move. 

I started walking away without sparing them another glance.

(As always, this place is like a battlefield.)

A ruler was no different from someone whose head was under a guillotine at all times. 

Even if the people they were meant to protect threw stones at them and the throne was drenched in blood, they must do what was necessary for the sake of the country. 

And if their death was what the country and its people needed, then they must willingly offer their head in sacrifice.

(Even if it goes unrewarded, because that’s what duty means.) 

When I turned my gaze toward the clear blue sky, a white bird flew in the air.

(It’s a robin.)

I was captivated by the sight of it flying freely, and I paused for a moment to watch.

When its white wings disappeared from my sight, 

I had a strange premonition that something was about to change. 

…

After the parliamentary meeting was over, I went to meet up with William, who left ahead of me to gather information. 

I soon spotted him in the distance, looking unusually pleased. 

William: I kept you waiting, Victor.

Victor: For you, I’d be more than happy to wait for hours. … My, did something good happen?

When I asked the question, he glanced back in the direction he came from and his smile deepened. 

William: Indeed. I met a lovely little robin with a beautiful voice. 

(A robin…) 

I was reminded of the bird I saw earlier, but what interested me more at that moment was William, who rarely took interest in people.

Victor: Oh? … If it’s someone who’s caught your attention, then I’d like to meet them too.

William: She's someone you would certainly be interested in as well. … Well then.

William’s facial expression shifted into a more serious one.

William: Did you get the information on our target? 

Victor: Yes, the target’s wife and children will be attending a play tonight.

Victor: Afterwards, they’ll stay over at a friend’s house and won’t return until morning.

Victor: Meanwhile, our target will give the play a miss to spend some quality time with the maid. 

William: I see. This is the perfect opportunity, then.

Victor: However, it's best if we still remain cautious. Apparently, security around the estate was recently tightened. 

Victor: In order to strengthen our bond, why don’t we all go together?

William: I have no objections, but I imagine they would be rather surprised. 

He spoke with a hushed voice and turned to me with a smirk.

William: I doubt they’d ever imagine all members of Her Majesty's imperial organisation would show up at the same time. 

He appeared satisfied seeing my smirk that matched his.

William then hailed a carriage to return to the castle. 

However, I declined to go with him, intending to pick up some gifts for my beloved Cursed Ones, and so we parted ways. 

…

The moment I arrived at Leadenhall Market, I happened to witness a spectacle unfolding in my line of sight.

Man: Stop right there!! 

A man whose face was twisted in fury twisted the arm of a poorly dressed young girl. 

Girl: That hurts! 

The girl held a necklace in her hand, and it was obvious she had stolen it.

Man: I’ll make sure you can never use this hand again! 

The man raised the fire poker in his hand, ready to hit her. 

No one moved to stop him.

— Except for one person.

Kate: Wait.

A clear voice rang through the air.

Man: Hah!? Whaddya want!?

All the attention was instantly focused on the owner of that voice. 

Kate: H-hey, return the item you stole. I’ll listen to what you have to say afterwards— 

As the man turned his gaze toward the lady slowly approaching them, the young girl seized the opportunity to land a kick on his arm. 

Girl: Take that! 

Man: Ouch!?

Breaking free from his grip, the young girl darted off and disappeared into the crowd. 

Man: Get back here, ya thief—! Damn it! Look what ya just did! 

Kate: I-I’m sorry… 

Man: Ya gonna pay for what she stole!?

Kate: Yes, I will! 

I narrowed my gaze as she pulled her wallet out with tears welling up in her eyes. 

Victor: … I see. A wonderful little robin indeed. 

Taking a step back, I turned around and began walking away. 

She didn’t notice. 

(It’s better this way.) 

Without doing any shopping, I went back the way I came from and returned to the castle—.  

…

William: Oh, you’re back already.

Victor: Will, if you ever see that little robin again, I’d like to meet her too. 

Fate brought along emotions that couldn't be abandoned, along with happiness.

William: What’s this all of a sudden? It’s rare for you to take such interest in someone. 

Vivid memories of my past resurfaced. 

Victor: I’d like to meet her only once.

Victor: Naturally, I’d be curious about someone one of my beloved Cursed Ones has taken interest in. 

The time that had stopped until now started moving again.

William: …  Alright, I’ll call for you if I meet her again. 

Victor: Okay, I’m counting on you for that. 

And so, the little robin came flying to us. 

…

Victor: Welcome back, my beloved Cursed Ones! 

Victor: … Hm? And who might this young lady be…?

She came to me, who had given up on everything. 

William: This is Kate. She happened to be at the target’s residence.

(Right, this is something you’re unaware of.)

Victor: Wow. That’s… quite the fateful coincidence. 

— A fateful “coincidence” indeed. 

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Omg PLEASE Rindou, Mikey, Kazutora, Baji, and HANMA with this sweet little reader...

Reader drags them to a metal concert and she wants to go to the mosh pit. They're like hoe what?? You?? But you'll die??

She sneaks in anyways and they just see this tiny thing absolutely BODYSLAMMING people and rocking out. Totally fuck in the bathrooms after

(Please and thank you pookie!!)

TokRev x "Fragile"!Reader in a Mosh Pit

♡ SFW->NSFW, fem reader who's a hardcore mosh pit enjoyer, slight exhibitionism, public sex/bathroom sex, hair pulling, mirror sex, oral->fem and male receiving ♡

Characters: Rindou, Mikey, Kazutora, Baji, Hanma

note: written and delivered, you're welcome pookie!

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Rindou

🎧 Flat out tells you to not jump into anything because you'll get hurt

"Are you crazy or stupid?"

🎧 Loses his shit when you sneak in anyway because he's sure that you're done for

"Y/n what the fuck are you doing?! Get back here now!"

🎧 Hesitates to go after you because you're handling yourself fine, so he just tries to keep an eye on you until you come back

🎧 Pulls you off to a secluded spot to fuck because he can't be bothered to look for the bathroom, ends up fucking you under a stairwell where anyone could see

"You were all fired up and loud in that mosh pit, where's your fire at now sweetheart? Tryna be quiet so no one hears, that's no fun~"

Mikey

🍥 Barely heard you over the music playing but knew what you were up to when you started scurrying away from him and immediately followed after you

🍥 Lost you for a few minutes and got super worried so he just started kicking and punching and knocking people tf out

🍥 Audibly sighs in relief (and annoyance) when he finds you safe and sound (and having more fun than anyone else) and has to drag you out of the pit

🍥 Drags you to the bathroom and pins you against the door for some much needed stress relief

"Do you know how much you just stressed me out? It's okay though angel, I know how you can make it up to me."

🍥 At least you'll have the mosh pit as an excuse when you can't walk straight tomorrow morning

Kazutora

🐯 Doesn't hesitate to jump in with you and immediately starts beating the shit out of people

🐯 He goes absolutely insane in that pit and has officially found his second favorite place to be

"You gotta bring me to more of these, that was the most fun I've had in so long."

🐯 His adrenaline is still pumping like crazy so he drags you to the bathroom and pins you down on floor so he can go down on you, ends up getting blood all over you because his nose is busted but he doesn't feel it

Baji

🔥 Only lets you jump in if he can go with you to make sure you don't get hurt

"Okay okay, but let me go with you, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

🔥 Underestimates the intensity of the pit and ends up panicking while you're just vibing and having a good time

🔥 Pulls you out and drags you to the closest bathroom because his nose is for sure bleeding and his lip is busted

"How the fuck can you handle that shit? Fucking psychos man..."

🔥 Ends up bending you over the bathroom sink, his hand tugging your hair back so you can stare at him through the broken mirror

Hanma

🏵️ Looks at you like you're crazy then dares you to do it

"You wanna get fucked up? Be my guest darling ♡"

🏵️ Cheers you on when you jump in and start wrecking people's shit

"Fuck yeah! That's my bitch right there!"

🏵️ Fucks your throat in the bathroom after the show is over because now he knows you can handle him being a little rough, though the mosh pit is nothing compared to what he can do

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl @eroticdarling

[shorthaltsjester]

the cast knows that bells hells suck so bad they came out the gates swinging in defense and it just makes them look worse. imagine saying to fans "as we filmed our show, especially the finale, we were actively aware it was bad but we chose to do it anyway". instantly i was like why should i watch another campaign knowing that the people making it are happy to hit send on a bad product?

while I definitely sympathize with this response, I actually don’t have a real problem with the cast deciding to favour their feelings/desires around the game they play in principle, I just also don’t think the way they favoured those is conducive to a strongly told story. (in general, I have extreme criticisms of the escapist/avoidant nature of many people’s claims about ‘comfort media’, especially when it comes to wanting a cozy and distant place in a game in the face of a distressing political climate, given that every game is inextricably linked to their placement in the real world but that’s a whole other can of worms that’s tangentially related and which I am quite literally writing a thesis on rn but Anyway). obviously it’s anyone’s prerogative whether they continue with cr, so i completely respect and support the choice not to continue with their stories if c3 was a blow to your trust in the storytellers, that makes extreme sense to me.

that said, my position on it is that c3 is disappointing but it’s the outlier not the exemplar, and given the recent news that the next exandria dm will be sam (not because I think Matt is bad by any measure, but he’s explicitly state show exhausted he is and tragically passion is not enough to tell a strong story when you’re chronically running on low fuel), and other production choices they’ve been making that seem better suited for stronger storytelling than some of the ones they made during c3, I’m pretty sold on seeing where they take the next story. especially since the disappointment i felt at the abandonment of very typical storytelling conventions that cr has previously been good at maintaining (e.g., consequences for the central agents of the story — pcs in this case — and not just the World At Large) was immediately eclipsed by the enjoyment and narrative satisfaction of a story like divergence.

also, obviously feel your feelings and express them as needed anon, but since you’re in my inbox, I will just point out that “as we filmed our show, especially the finale, we were actively aware it was bad but we chose to do it anyway” is not something anyone said or even really implied. that’s honestly one of my main issues, if the cast said “we were aware it was bad storytelling but it was fulfilling gameplay/conclusions for us” i’d honestly respect that! i’d find it frustrating but it’s in line with their frequent emphasis that this is for them before anyone else. what they’re saying instead is “this is for us, so sometimes enjoyment at the table overrides conveying a coherent and consistent story” while also trying to maintain “we’ve actually told a story that’s as strong as previous campaigns and the complains from fans are just repeating the same complaints as always.” which. is patently false (while there are some ‘critiques’ that are the same in terms of ‘but my blorbo didn’t get to xyz’, most of the Actual criticism of c3 is based on the things c1 and/or c2 succeeded at and demonstrated the the players ability to convey a strong narrative through dnd mechanics and gameplay) and also very much a have your cake and eat it too situation. anyway, again: very fair to be disappointed and i’d be lying if I said i wasn’t myself in some ways, but you can express disappointment without using a strawman

[married-to-google-translater]

From one fellow Azusa simp to another can you do some Azusa White Day headcanons 😊

Hello fellow Azusa enjoyer~ I hope you enjoy this headcanon about our best boy 😌 If you have more request plz send them to me...

Azusa Mukami

Azusa loves you very much.

However, a lot would depend on whether you had time to teach him what "healthy" love is.

He would be a bit lost with it...

At first Azusa doesn't really know what to give you as a gift.

If this was the beginning of the relationship he would try to suggest pain and her brother would stop him.

If this was the later part of the relationship Azusa would come up with the chocolate idea himself :3

In either case it would be a good thing if his brother's helped him.

We all know Azusa spices his food too much...

Azusa would really try his best for you.

He would hope you would enjoy this chocolate.

Azusa would be a little nervous about giving you the chocolate he made himself.

He really hoped you would like it.

Oh if you liked her gift he would be so happy.

Azusa's smile could melt almost anyone's heart.

[boasamishipper]

i wasnt a hardcore ted lasso enjoyer i watched p casually can u remind me what happened in 2x04 and/or explain why it needs to be disavowed /genq

on a 1977 episode of the hit tv show happy days, the fonz (played by henry winkler) travels to LA with the gang and, when his bravery is challenged, water-skis in swim trunks and his trademark leather jacket while jumping over a live shark. the show went on for another 7 years, but in 1985, radio personality jon hein used this moment to coin the expression jumping the shark - that is, a clear moment when a creative work has "exhausted its core intent and is introducing new ideas that are discordant with or an extreme exaggeration of its original theme or purpose."

when ted lasso premiered in 2020, it was warm, witty, and winsome - the balm many needed after the exhaustion and cruelty of the covid-19 pandemic and the last four years of the trump administration. the show was quickly renewed for a second season, the fourth episode of which was their christmas special. said episode focused on the afc richmond found family and ted and rebecca doing good deeds and ended with everyone singing christmas songs outside the higgins' house, at which point one of the higgins boys sees santa's sleigh flying across the sky.

that episode, to me, marks the exact moment where the show jumped the shark.

from that episode onward, the show became less grounded in reality. the writers downplayed or ignored heavier plotlines with massive implications (sam accused the nigerian government of corruption in a press conference and lost the team a major sponsor in dubai air...and then faced no consequences whatsoever personally or professionally) in favor of elevating silly scenes that did nothing to move the plot forward (ex. the majority of 'beard after hours', the afc richmond team's plotline in the infamous amsterdam episode, the scene where the team tied strings around each other's dicks and practiced that way). the heavier themes that the writers did attempt to tackle (racism and homophobia in british football, sexism, etc.) were done clumsily, with the in-world implication that such systemic issues were the result of a few bad apples and could be solved with teamwork and togetherness.

s1 of ted lasso was so good because for all its focus on kindness and warm fuzzy feelings, the show was still grounded in reality. it still had stakes. the threat of richmond getting relegated was tangible. the consequences of people's actions were real. s2's focus on whether or not the team would get promoted to the premier league was what saved it, but once the team returned to the premier league in s3, all was lost. what was the show's goal that season? to beat west ham? to beat rupert? to get one over on nate? to win the whole damn thing? even characters in universe didn't seem to know. s3 was as aimless and disjointed as it was bloated, with episodes regularly clocking in at over an hour. the show had, very obviously, run out of things to say, and did its best to hide that fact behind season-long mysteries (what did the psychic's prediction mean??) and scenes in the locker room written with all the grace and charm of a 1990s after-school special.

s3 was shut out at the emmys, and didn't make a splash with audiences or critics. and despite the change of setting (ted's coaching the women's team now!), if the writers don't abandon the aimless bloat and exaggerated saccharine that permeated the show from 2x04 onward in favor of real stakes and real character growth and tipping the scales back in favor of realism, s4 will likely go the same way.

[tasteforambrosia]

Homecoming

Premise: Caleb has always had a dream, that the two of you could live together in your own little world, and how that he has power, he will do whatever he must to make that dream a reality. Pairing: Caleb x Reader Note: I'm fairly new to LADS, but I am FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR THIS MAN WOOF. I'm planning to continue this if people like it. :) CONTENT WARNING! Yandere, Stalking, Obsessive behaviour, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment.

After years and years of waiting for this day, Caleb’s plans were finally going to bear fruit.

From the very moment he had laid eyes on you, you had selfishly captured his heart and refused to let go. Even as a child he knew that he had to protect you from the horrors of this world and be the one to make you happy, and he had worked so hard that he could be the man to take care of you.

He studied hard so that he’d get a good job, he learned how to cook so that he could feed you and he was always there in case you needed anything. Caleb was the one who consoled you whenever you were sad or scared, and he was the one you went to in case of an emergency. He had all the cards in his hand to charm you, and it definitely did help that he was handsome, funny and athletic. In fact he had attracted quite the amount of women during his life, but he never even considered dating any of them, knowing that you were the only one for him and he was the only one for you.

Even when he had to fake his death and wound your fragile heart, he knew he could and would make it up to you in the future, when the time was right.

And today was the day he was going to fulfill his dreams and snatch you away and take you to his home in Skyhaven so that the two of you could live happily together in your own little world.

Unfortunately, being a colonel meant he was very busy, and unable to ‘retrieve’ you himself, which was something that greatly bothered him, but if it meant he’d have you safe in his home, he was willing to leave the dirty work to his men.

Caleb’s job ensured he had power and status, which meant arranging his own little special team was no problem, and that no one was going to question his actions and decisions.

At first, Caleb was hesitant to make his men collect you, not only did he want to do it himself, but there was also a chance someone would let the word spread and get the police involved. However, Caleb knew that he had earned the fleet’s respect and fear, and that if someone in the team did tell someone, no one would care or even believe them. And if Caleb was anything, he was a good judge of character, which meant his special team consisted only of the most talented and loyal soldiers.

The plan was efficient and simple, the soldiers were going to be waiting for you in the most quiet spot you passed on your route home, and when the time was right, Caleb’s little hunter was going to be dragged into a nondescript car and delivered to his home in Skyhaven. While he got no enjoyment in seeing you scared, a part of him wanted to see your expression as you’re dragged off to a destination unknown, and he had snuck a camera on the group leader’s badge so that he could immortalize this special day.

The biggest risk in the plan were your self-defense capabilities, since as a Hunter you were trained in various forms of combat, but of course Caleb had taken this into account and made sure his soldiers had multiple ways to restrain and sedate you.

Another risk factor in the plan was that annoying coworker of yours, since you and him were neighbours and often walked home together, but he had hacked into the association’s network and made sure that he would be too busy to walk with you. 

When Caleb first broke into your home and tagged almost everything you owned, he remembers how when he put in a chip so he could monitor your phone activities and how you seemed to have quite the amount of men hounding you, ranging from a childhood friend the two of you shared to a literal mafia boss. Caleb was not happy - not that he would’ve approved anyone except him by your side - especially when the men around you weren’t the stupid sort that were easily erasable .

Although most of them never noticed the tags, or the chip on your phone, Sylus was the one who found quite a significant amount of them, and being skilled with technology, made you more difficult to track.

But none of it was going to matter after today, since he had warned his men that you were most likely tracked by a third party and had equipped them with top of the art technology to deactivate any and all devices on you. 

Caleb was so close to achieving the dream he had since he was little, and that fact made him smirk as he sat down in his office. At first you’d surely resist, and he’d have to chain you by the ankle to make sure you couldn't leave, but you were a smart girl, you’d learn to adapt and embrace your situation, and eventually when you start to behave he’d give you more and more freedoms. And if you ever were to try to escape, well… He loved a chase, and just like when you played tag as kids, he would always catch you in the end.

As his phone dinged with the confirmation that his team was in the correct spot and ready to act, Caleb pulled out a picture from his pocket. It was the day he graduated from Aerospace Academy and a photographer took a picture of the two of you. 

You were so sly on that day, blatantly kissing him in front of his peers as if to claim him as your own. That day only confirmed that you felt something for him too, and that the two of you were destined to be together no matter how much fate tried to tear you apart.

Another ding from his phone informed him that you were moving towards the predetermined location.

“Soon, pipsqueak. Soon we’ll be together again.”

The day has finally come.

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

A sneak peak on after Ella & Yorrick are born, please 😭🙏! So far, the only reason Daemon even managed to see his kids after they're born bc Jaehaerys had to go down and save his ass with Baelon. But— ahfbeifbw!

I love Yorbert even though we got so little of him. But, baby Ella and Yorrick meeting the Targ entourage please 😭

Yes, hi, hello. Here I am 5 months later having finally gotten to this because it took a while to work out the details of what the visit looked like & now I'm 5.8k deep & it's daddy issues all the way down 😅. Anyway, I hope you think this was worth the wait, because I definitely had fun with this (also, I'll have the Valyrian translations at the bottom in order of appearance)

Cross posted to AO3 here

Caraxes warbled as his serpentine body edged closer to Vhagar, flying right up next to the hoary old beast as she let out a deep, booming response. Daemon’s eyes drifted towards his father, Prince Baelon leaning forward in the saddle to pat Vhagar’s jowly neck as his pale hair blew back in the wind. Daemon pressed his lips into a hard line, eyes darting between the horizon and his father until the Prince of Dragonstone finally spared a glance in his younger son’s direction. He grinned, truly grinned, and gave Daemon an acknowledging nod before facing forward again to more easily direct Vhagar over the mountains.

He gripped the handles of Caraxes’s saddle more tightly and shifted his hold slightly, as if that was going to make everything better. It was so rare that Prince Baelon seemed to be happy in any kind of impactful way, he was distant and busied himself with whatever could distract him from the loss of his sister-wife. Because obviously he was the only one affected by it.

“Naejot!” Caraxes was already moving forward before the command fully left his mouth, wings flapping harder to push them further. Overtaking Vhagar was easy, she was hulking and slow; just like her rider’s attention.

Daemon snorted. He didn’t want to get there faster, but there wasn’t much choice now. It was either endure knowing the way to earn his father’s approving smile was siring children on the heiress to Runestone, or surge on ahead and endure seeing the bronze bitch and her insufferable sire sooner. Both, somehow, were better than being stuck on the ship carrying his elder brother and his grandfather.

Runestone was below them, The Bronze Fury already nestling himself outside the gates as he waited for his rider. The wheelhouse carrying The Old King and Viserys and Aemma and Rhaenyra up from where their ship had docked was a tiny dot trundling along to the ancient castle. Caraxes called out again, high-pitched and nasally, his long neck swaying as he moved to circle over Runestone again. Daemon didn’t want to land, he wanted to loom over House Royce’s seat instead of it looming over him. Some vile mountain prison that mumuña had shoved him into because she liked Lord Yorbert’s aunt. He snorted, if his grandmother liked Lady Perra so much, Viserys could have married the woman’s great-niece and he could have taken Aemma. She was more enjoyable to be around, enough so that it was jarring to know she held that irritable cunt in such high regard.

It was Vhagar’s descent towards the ground that finally spurred Daemon to tell The Blood Wyrm to land. Servants carrying baskets towards the sept scrambled out of the way, falling over each other to give Caraxes ample room to land in the space between the sprawling godswood and the tiny sept. The long faced, auburn-haired septon with his shaved bald spot gawked at the prince and the dragon, flat against the stone wall with some page boy pinned behind his arm. Daemon paid him little mind beyond taking notice of his existence, dropping to the ground in front of him and brushing past the septon’s protests about his chosen landing spot.

Daemon barely made it past his dragon’s head before one of Lord Yorbert’s cousins rounded the corner. Some portly, black haired Valeman with some “g” name or other–House Royce apparently only knew how to use two letters.

“Your dragon’s in the way.” He pointed towards Caraxes with his chin. Daemon lazily looked over his shoulder, making a show of how unbothered he was.

“Caraxes will move when he’s bored.” He said simply as he turned to face the older knight once more.

“You’ve been told to land outside the walls before.”

“A dragon will do what it pleases.” He took a step forward, puffing his chest out as he stood toe-to-toe with Lord Yorbert’s cousin.

“A dragon is blocking an important path with its great bulk. Something His Grace and Prince Baelon both have the courtesy to not let their dragons do.” He stared at him completely unmoved, his brown eyes hard. Daemon’s mouth drew in on itself, nostrils flaring. Courtesy, what did a man daring to tell him what to do know about courtesy?

The creaking of the gates drew their attentions away from each other. Daemon took the opportunity to push past the other man, intentionally knocking him in the shoulder as he strode towards the main, central part of the courtyard. His father was already inside standing next to the lord of the castle as the wheelhouse jostled past the fully open gates.

Being so close to Lord Yorbert Royce made Prince Baelon look tiny. A tall, lithe frame turning skinny and delicate next to the broad, sturdy Valeman. Straight hair that shone like pale gold in the sun seemed lifelessly flat in comparison to the slightly older man’s thick, graying black curls. His facial hair appeared abysmal by comparison as well, centralized to his chin and a mustache that skimmed the top of his lips and a tiny speck of silver-gold below them because the hair grew in patchy on his cheeks. Superior Valyrian stock or not, Prince Baelon could not grow a thick beard like the irritable First Man was capable of.

He scowled as he crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he regarded both his sire and his good-father.

“Don’t slouch, Daemon.” His grandsire paused next to him on his slow walk from the wheelhouse, standing next to him just long enough to critically cut his lavender eyes in his direction and tap his back just a bit harder than was necessary. Still, it accomplished the goal of making him straighten up and square his shoulders.

“Your Grace,” Lord Yorbert bowed deeply as he spoke, “Runestone is honored by your presence.”

“And my grandson will be honored by your apology, my Lord Royce.”

Lord Yorbert’s rising from his bow was slow, his brown eyes wide as he looked between the king and Daemon. He sneered at the Lord of Runestone from behind his grandsire, pleased to have come out on top of their fight before the high table in spite of having flown back to The Red Keep with a bloody lip. Lord Yorbert blinked a few times, still saying nothing.

“Do you need reminding what transpired, my lord?”

“No, Your Grace. I was just not expecting the first thing–” he cut himself off, holding his hands up in surrender. A soft sigh passed his lips, no doubt resigned to his loss, as his gaze turned to Daemon.

“Apologies, my prince,” he paused, his jaw flexing beneath his thick beard as he rightfully humbled himself, “I was out of line.”

His lips went tight as he glowered at his good-father, he chose that phrase on purpose! “You were out of line.” That was what he’d said to Daemon when he stood before the high table being lectured for simply arguing with the man’s elder daughter; as if she hadn’t egged him on! Everything afterwards had been a blur as arguing turned to physical blows and a shameful flight back to King’s Landing where he’d remained until news of his children’s birth came.

“All that’s handled then!” Prince Baelon clapped Lord Royce on the back as he grinned, fully pleased with the state of things.

“Right, Daemon?” His father was still smiling when he looked at him, and the light that so often left his eyes in quieter moments was still there. Daemon could only nod in response, unwilling to do or say something that would make him lose this moment of attentive happiness in his father.

“Good! Now, let’s get inside so I can meet my other grandchildren.”

“Father, we’ve been traveling for days, and you flew hours on Vhagar. Surely we should rest for a moment. You don’t want to be overtired holding them.�� Viserys waved his hands weekly with his words. Every movement of his hands was limp and lazy and seemed like he was placating whoever he spoke to unless he personally was angry.

“I am perfectly fit, Viserys, I am still fine to continue on however pleases me.” He dismissed his elder son with a laugh.

“Baelon, you are young yet, but I would like a moment to recover before the children are shown to me.” The Old King breezed past his heir’s words, as he motioned for Lord Yorbert to lead the way. That silenced Prince Baelon, who nodded stiffly in response. It was only Rhaenyra fussing in her mother’s arms that perked him back up as Lord Yorbert led them into the castle, explaining to the king how the nicest rooms in the east tower had been set aside for the visit.

Apparently, it was only Prince Baelon’s grandchildren that were exciting enough to keep him happy and present.w

The largest of the rooms in the east tower had been set aside for King Jaehaerys, nearly as sprawling and serving of all purposes as those for the Lord of the Castle. Kekepa had insisted they all cram themselves into the withdrawing room off of his bedchamber, because that was the most convenient for him after he had decided he’d recuperated enough to have the twins paraded out in front of him.

Twins.

It felt even more extreme now that they were physically out in the world and not just two heartbeats the balding old maester had heard. What had a drunken night needed to produce two children for? Especially when he’d only been “allowed” to name one. Daemon slid lower in his chair, gripping the arms of it as he glowered at the door.

“Daemos, ilie dēmā.” His grandfather’s command to straighten up only served to sour his mood even more, his nose scrunching in distaste as he slid even further down. It was painful sitting on his tailbone, but spiting the old man felt worth it.

“Daemos–” King Jaehaerys’s second attempt, voice carrying enough dark warning it drew the eyes of his son and two other grandchildren, was interrupted by the door to the withdrawing room opening and a near army of Royces joining them.

Lord Yorbert carried one of the twins, his head on his grandsire’s chest with one round cheek smooshed so hard against him that it forced one of the bright purple eyes shut and his tiny, pink mouth open. His younger daughter trailed after him, chattering excitedly about her nephew. Behind him was Daemon’s wife with the other twin cradled in her arms, the stern, judgmental Coldwater woman fussing over the babe and offering to take her.

“I am fine, Vaeronica. I had children, they know what to expect.” She said as she strode into the room behind her father.

Rhea looked worse than usual. Whatever “motherly glow” was supposed to overtake a woman once she had children was absent, replaced instead by dark circles under her eyes and hair that was pulled back so loosely that large chunks of it had slipped from the cord holding it to fall about her face. Her dress, which it was astounding she bothered to wear since she dressed like a man half the time, was rumpled and the neckline was askew from feeding whichever of the twins had just been greedily ruining one of her four redeeming qualities–and four was being generous.

“Rhea, this is the king. Just let me take Ella–”

“You named my daughter Ella?” It was this that made Daemon sit up straight, nearly rising out of his chair as he glared at her. The one that didn’t inherit was his to name, that was their bargain!

“Rhaella,” she replied flatly, “you weren’t here to give me anything besides ‘Rhaegar,’ so I improvised.”

“You see, Daemon. She is not wholly unreasonable like you claim.” King Jaehaerys leaned on one of the arms of his chair, good humor overtaking him now that his great-grandchildren had been presented to him.

He turned his attention to Daemonn’s wife as he continued, beckoning her closer. “Rhaella was a fine choice. And what of her dear brother’s name?”

“Yorick.”

Daemon let a pleased smirk light up his face as his bright purple eyes darted between his bronze bitch and his grandsire. He had a front row seat to whatever outrage this was going to spark, and he couldn’t wait to watch it unfold. Except he did wait. Several seconds passed, it started to grow uncomfortable, and his smirk started to falter.

Finally, his grandsire spoke again, and he was more bewildered than anything else. “What kind of name is ‘Yorick Targaryen?’”

“A terrible one, which is why that isn’t his name.”

“My lady, you just said–”

Lord Yorbert stepped forward, Daemon’s son stirring slightly in his arms. “Your Grace, if I may?”

The king nodded, prompting the Lord of Runestone to continue. “As you are well aware, Rhea is my heir, and her children will inherit after her. The oldest boy, at least, using the Royce name was something Rhea and Prince Daemon agreed upon before the children were born.”

Kekepa remained silent, his fingers tightening on the arms of his chairs as he settled back against the plush, bronze pillow at his back. He worked his jaw, breathing purposely deep and even. Daemon had seen the old king’s quiet fury many a time before, and not being the target of it brought the smirk back to his face. A giggle escaped him, and his grandsire cut his lavender eyes in his direction.

“Daemos.” The same warning tone as when he’d refused to sit up straight. Quietly, the Coldwater woman ushered Daemon’s good-sister from the room, all but dragging the girl of three and ten into the hall.

“Skoros?” Daemon sat up as straight as he could, chin tilted back to defiantly meet his grandsire’s eyes.

“Konir drējor?”

“Lo ēlī trēsy issa Royce se rōva jentē syt māzīlaria gaoman ziry, mirre jaelan kostan.” He replied with a shrug. Letting the older boy be a Royce and not having to plan for the children’s futures seemed a decent enough trade off for getting to do whatever he wanted forever. It would make having to be stuck with Lord Yorbert’s daughter tolerable at least.

“Kepus,” Prince Baelon rose from his spot on the settee across from Daemon’s chair as he spoke, “this doesn’t need to be a whole production. If this gives the pair some marital peace, what harm is there that the twins are Royces?”

He turned his attention to his good-daughter as he continued, “Rhea, my dear, please, may I hold her?” Prince Baelon held his arms out expectantly, the question merely a formality. She did not move right away, holding Rhaella closer to her chest as she pursed her lips. She then slowly blew out a breath and placed the little girl into her grandfather’s arms as she leaned in to whisper something to him.

King Jaehaerys sighed, his elbow propping on the arm of the chair so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. He muttered about the twins being Royces with their futures bargained away ruining his plans before finally looking back up.

“Lord Yorbert, are all of you named like that?” The king motioned to the tiny boy held in the other man’s arms. Lord Yorbert pressed his lips together tightly, and he looked like he was straining so hard to keep from saying something smart-mouthed that he could combust at any moment. Daemon wasn’t sure if it was his good-father’s look of bug-eyed discomfort, or his grandsire deciding to move on from his offense that brought a pleased smile to his face. The Old King motioned for Yorick to be given to him, and the fat cheeked little boy was deposited into his great-grandfather’s arms.

Viserys finally moved from his seat between his wife and Prince Baelon’s empty spot on the settee, where he’d been dutifully ignoring the burgeoning argument in order to pick at the dirt under his nails, so he could lean against the back of their grandsire’s chair as the old man cooed over how much Daemon’s son looked like Prince Baelon had when he was an infant. Aemma, meanwhile, stood between the prince and her cousin as she helped to straighten the neckline of Rhea’s dress and gushed over how beautiful Rhaella was.

Beautiful? She was a newborn. You couldn’t tell such things with a newborn yet, and she probably looked as much like Prince Baelon as her brother did. Most babies looked the same, and these two were twins. Daemon hunkered down in his chair. A moment so about him was also not at all about him, and he didn’t like it.

The tiny girl in Prince Baelon’s arms stretched, round little fists straining in the air before she made some strange, soft little noise and finally unscrunched her face. A look of awe graced his (increasingly delicate seeming) features as he looked down at his granddaughter.

“Her eyes are like Alyssa’s.”

Daemon was rising from his chair before he was even entirely sure what he was doing, long legs carrying him across the dark wood floor until he was standing before his father and daughter, and looking down into the little girl’s face. Downy hair like pale gold stuck straight up from the center of her large head, and she looked up into his face with round, mismatched eyes that blinked at an impossibly slow rate. The left was the same bright purple as his own, while the right was the same unflattering shade of mid-toned brown as her mother’s.

“Mother’s other eye was green,” he said flatly as he looked back up at his sire. Daemon had looked at her portrait in his father’s withdrawing room enough times to know the fact by heart.

“They don’t have to match exactly to be the same.”

He looked back down at his daughter again, and she made the same soft little noise she had earlier. Daemon worked his jaw as he looked at her. Maybe the brown wasn’t completely unflattering on Rhaella.

“Alright, you’ve had her long enough, give her here.” Daemon demanded, reaching to take his daughter from his father.

“You?” His wife looked at him with wide eyed disbelief, her hands balled into fists and her lip threatening to curl into a displeased snarl.

“I can do whatever I want,” he reminded her, lifting his chin to look even further down at her than usual, “and I want to hold my daughter.” The disbelief on her face softened, her usual indignation melting away to something Daemon couldn’t quite identify. For a moment it almost made Rhea Royce look pretty. Almost.

“You do?” Her voice was small for once, and she didn’t fight it when Rhaella was passed from her grandsire to her father.

It was strange holding her, she weighed nothing and yet there was undeniably something substantial in his arms. Rhaella’s mouth opened into something that was probably a smile, she was giggling at least, and he hefted her up closer to his face, his elbow held at an odd angle to support her head. It seemed odd to Daemon that he could have a part in making something so fragile, and yet here she was: tiny and giggling in his arms and slapping her chubby little hands against the lower part of his face as he simply let her do so. It wasn’t like he could make Rhaella stop anyway, she was a baby. He also didn’t mind it, because she was his and he liked that she liked him.

It was a struggle to look away from Rhaella, but he forced himself anyway so he could cut his eyes towards his sire. Prince Baelon was talking quietly to his good-daughters, the pair of them leaning against each other with their arms entwined as Rhea Royce occasionally snuck furtive glances in Daemon’s direction. How in the seven hells had Prince Baelon managed to not feel enough of a sense of fatherly pride in him to continue to be attentive after his sister-wife’s death? Had he not ever held him as a babe? Surely he mustn’t have if he’d been able to so easily ignore him during his boyhood. Rhaella made her soft little noise again, and Daemon’s arms tightened slightly around her. Obviously his own sire had never felt the same way he did right now.

Then the shiny veneer of a new daughter with eyes like his mother’s wore off in an instant. Daemon made a face of disgust the exact moment that Rhaella began crying. Whatever unexplainable, but pleasant, smell babies seemed to naturally have was replaced with the vile odor of her having soiled herself and he was all at once reminded of the parts of having children he did not want to do. Cleaning them and feeding them and putting up with their caterwauling was not something that interested him.

“I’m done. Take her back.” He all but shoved Rhaella into his wife’s arms, and she sputtered in anger and defeat as she was forced to cradle the screaming babe. She couldn’t very well drop her, after all.

Lord Yorbert seemed to materialize from the air, swooping in to take his crying granddaughter and whisk her away as his daughter slumped against her cousin. Aemma gave her a knowing look, smoothing Rhea’s hair as she spoke quietly to her. Daemon rubbed his hands down the front of his doublet, trying to rid himself of the feeling that they’d somehow been covered in a layer of muck.

His son had remained, miraculously and blessedly, quiet even as his twin sister cried and howled, and so Daemon turned on his heel to busy himself with Yorick instead. The tiny boy sniffled silently in his great-grandfather’s arms, his bright purple eyes shining with unshed tears. He had been as upset by the crying as Daemon, but for whatever reason held himself back. A strange quality in an infant, but maybe that meant this one could be his while his wife managed the one that screamed.

“Don’t I have a right to hold my son?” He asked, looking at his grandsire expectantly after the old man making no moves to relinquish the child made Daemon grow impatient.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course. Good on you for taking the initiative,” his tone made it seem like he’d doubted that his grandson would bring himself to care. After as many children as he’d had, King Jaehaerys probably found it difficult to continue caring after Aunt Daella. Particularly when all of them after his own mother had been disappointments.

“Mind his head now, Daemon.” Viserys instructed, making no moves to help in any part of the process of passing the boy from one set of arms to the next.

“I’ve held Rhaenyra, I know what I’m doing.” He spat, pulling Yorick into his chest and straightening up as soon as the little boy was securely enough out of King Jaehaerys’s embrace.

This close, he could more easily see his son’s features…which did not resemble the Prince of Dragonstone at all. He was pudgy and round and completely bald, all traits the skinny, angular Baelon “the Brave” lacked. The eyes were the same, but those were also Daemon’s eyes so it hardly meant anything. There was also a strange, dark smudge above his right eye. Unsure what else to do, Daemon licked his thumb and attempted to wipe the smudge from his son’s forehead. All he managed to do was make the sparse hairs of his eyebrow sit at an odd angle.

Daemon frowned, more closely examining the boy now. The eyelashes on that side were nearly black while the left were as stark white as his own. Of course his stupid wife had given this one a strange splotch of dark hair. He went to move his hand away and tuck it back under his other arm, but Yorick grasped one of his fingers before he could.

He stood frozen in place, staring down at the fat little fist wrapped around his finger. He blinked slowly as his bright purple gaze drifted back to Yorick’s face. He wasn’t sniffling anymore, instead looking up into Daemon’s face with wonder. He couldn’t be sure if it was because he was probably only the fifteenth person his son had ever seen, or because he loved him, but it certainly made him feel better to think he hadn’t looked at King Jaehaerys with quite this much awe.

“Come on, Yorick.” Without another word, Daemon turned and started towards the door. It was only his wife grabbing him by the scruff that stopped him.

“Where do you think you’re going with my son?” She demanded, glowering up at him with all of her usual vitriol. Whatever had overtaken her when he wanted to hold Rhaella was gone now.

“I am taking my son to meet Caraxes.”

“He’s a babe.”

“My mother took me flying after a fortnight.”

“Oh, so that’s what’s wrong with you. You were dropped on your head while your mother climbed up a dragon with you.”

Daemon’s lip curled, nostrils flaring as he glared at her. “You’re just jealous I would take him and not you.”

“My heir is staying on the ground!”

“Grandfather!” He looked past his wife to where King Jaehaerys was pushing himself out of his chair. If the old man could make the Lord of Runestone apologize for striking him, he could make the man’s daughter keep her promise.

“They should meet all the dragons while they’ve the opportunity. That will be easier if they can be passed between us, don’t you think?”

Daemon frowned more deeply. "While they’ve the opportunity.” His kekepa had grown grim and morbid since mumuña had started to become frail and more susceptible to illness, mortality looming over the old man and reaching out for him with hands like the children that predeceased him. In private he stopped ignoring the slowly failing health and blood on the brain that had killed The Conqueror at three and sixty, both boasting about making it past that age and moaning about how his time was borrowed. It was disquieting when he first started, and sometimes it still was when Daemon stopped to think about how he’d spent so many years swearing the ravages of time would never touch him. He was sure his grandfather wielded his newfound fatalism like a hammer, bringing it down as effectively as his anger or his stubbornness. None of them were going to deny his counsel or refuse his request when this was the method he chose, you could not argue with the fact he would die one day.

“Of course, father.” Prince Baelon answered for him, coming to The Old King’s side and putting a hand on his shoulder. Daemon quietly seethed, but nodded along. He hated that this was the method the old man chose for keeping the peace, and he hated that his decision was to keep the peace. It was only an insult if it directly involved his own pride in some way, and the bronze bitch’s ire was not turned towards King Jaehaerys so to him it didn’t matter.

It was a whole procession as they left the keep, Daemon leading the way with his son in his arms and his brother at his side, prattling on about how it was a shame Yorick couldn’t meet Balerion. Aemma and her Royce cousin were right on their heels, Daemon’s wife seething just like he was and muttering under her breath as her dearest friend tried to smooth over the insults they’d hurled at each other. Somewhere along the way they’d picked up Lord Yorbert and his younger girl (the freshly cleaned and newly calmed Rhaella swaddled in her arms) as she asked annoying questions and claimed the whole endeavor was silly because “it is not like they’ll remember, they’re babies.” King Jaehaerys walked nearly side-by-side with the Lord of Runestone, leaning on his eldest living child either out of necessity or to play up his insinuation that he could drop dead at any moment.

Daemon broke from the group once they were outside, walking faster to try and give himself time to be alone with just him and his dragon and his well-behaved, quiet child. He could hear footsteps in the grass hurrying to catch up with him, probably his wife, but it didn’t matter. All he needed was a moment, and maybe when she saw how wonderful the whole thing was, whatever softness had overtaken her earlier would be back and Rhea Royce being nearby wouldn’t be the most insufferable thing he could think of.

Caraxes wheezed as he approached, long neck forming a perfect arc as he wiggled in place. His narrow maw opened slightly, just enough to let out a series of high pitched clicks from somewhere between his nasal passage and his throat. Daemon beamed, his dragon being so pleased to see him thrumming in his chest and curling around his fatherly pride as he hefted Yorick in his arms so the babe and the dragon could see each other better. His son was stiff in his arms, or at least as stiff as a baby could be, and they were barely close enough Daemon could have touched Caraxes had his hands been free before the little boy began shrieking loud enough to rival his sister. Fat tears rolled down the babe’s pale, pudgy cheeks, and he squirmed with such frantic voracity that it felt like he was trying to burrow into his chest. Daemon winced as his son wailed, fighting the urge to hold his son further away to try and relieve himself of how piercing the screaming was.

“Oh! Oh, Dear Heart, it’s okay!” The boy’s mother pried him from Daemon’s hold, cradling him close and rocking him as she gently shushed him. Yorick’s wailing only ceased when his face was buried in his mother’s shoulder and he could no longer see Caraxes, but he still made little distressed noises that threatened to turn back into full screams at any moment.

Rhea Royce looked up at him accusatorily. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything, he’s broken!”

“He’s a baby!”

“And he started screaming as soon as he saw Caraxes!” Daemon pointed a finger in her face, his other hand fisted so hard at his side that it made his knuckles ache, “It’s your fault! My son wouldn’t be like this if he had a proper Valyrian mother.”

“My deepest apologies for not being your brother with a cunt.”

Daemon’s face felt hot, flushed from anger and something he couldn’t quite identify. It was only the babe in Rhea Royce’s arms that kept Daemon from striking her. His arms shook from the force of holding himself back, and behind him Caraxes growled, the sound nasally and grating.

“What’s going on here?”

Daemon’s movements felt jerky as his gaze snapped onto his good-father. Aemma and Viserys stood behind him, with only Viserys’s hold on his wife’s hand keeping her from running to them to try and play peace-keeper as she and Daemon’s wife all but draped themselves across each other. Trying to play intermediary while they were apart had not worked, and it wasn’t going to work while they were together either. Not when Rhea Royce was right here to poke and prod at him with the biting insults she threw out with reckless abandon, eager to hit any target with them she could.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Daemon motioned vaguely to the babe in his wife’s arms, “he started screaming at Caraxes.”

“A pity, although maybe he’ll grow out of it.” Viserys offered, laughing blandly as he waved his younger brother’s complaint off. His smile was weak and placating, and for a moment Daemon wanted to bash his head into a wall just to get him to stop making that damned expression.

When Daemon didn’t say anything, Viserys turned his attention to Aemma. “Hopefully our son will just have the boy’s other qualities.”

Aemma’s expression was tight, and Daemon couldn’t quite tell if it was a grimace or a false smile. Beside him, his wife glared daggers at his brother while growling like a dog. Fitting. Lord Yorbert came to his daughter’s side, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her upper arm as she cradled Yorick to her chest. Daemon could hear his father’s laugh drawing closer, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Prince Baelon and The Old King stopped short as they rounded the corner, nearly running into Viserys and Aemma from behind. The prince carefully side-stepped around them, a giggling Rhaella held in his arms.

“Did we miss something while we introduced Rhaella to Vermithor and Vhagar?” Daemon didn’t respond to his sire. He’d either throw up or have tears well in his eyes if he tried to, and either one would be shameful. When no one else spoke to fill in the gaps, Prince Baelon crossed the yard until he was standing right in front of him. Rhaella was still giggling, awkwardly alternating between clapping with glee and waving one of her fat little arms at Caraxes.

“I think she wants to be introduced,” Daemon’s father said as he held the little girl out for him to take, “she was quite taken with Vermithor.”

“Rhaella, The Blood Wyrm,” Daemon turned to the side and motioned towards his dragon, before repeating the motion in the other direction, “Caraxes, my daughter.”

“Aren’t you going to take her? I’m sure–”

Daemon cut his father off. “No, I’m not. I did what I wanted to and I’m going back inside. No one bother me until it’s time to go back home.” He began marching back towards the doors of the castle, intent on sequestering himself away in his guest room until whatever sick ache had lodged itself in the pit of his stomach left him, or it was time to leave. Whichever happened first.

“You’re not returning to King’s Landing, Daemon.” His grandsire’s words stopped him in his tracks. Daemon slowly turned around, his eyes wild as he stared at the old man.

“What do you mean I’m not going home?”

“You’re a married man, with children no less. Your place is here now.”

“I don’t want him here!” The bronze bitch spat, muscling out of her father’s hold.

“There will be ample time and opportunity for you two to change your minds, precious little else to do in these mountains,” King Jaehaerys breezed past their obvious distaste for each other as he finally followed his son to fully join the throng in front of The Blood Wyrm, “now, hand me the boy. He needs to meet Vermithor.”

“I don’t think he’ll like it.”

Daemon didn’t hear whatever other parts of the conversation there were between his wife and grandsire as he stormed off towards the castle. The blood rushing in his ears was too loud, the effort being used to hold himself back from hopping on Caraxes to fly off to parts unknown and burn down the first thing he came across was too great for him to care enough to even imagine the exchange.

● Mumuña: Grandmother (specifically “mother’s mother”) ● Naejot: Forward ● Kekepa: Grandfather (specifically “father’s father”) ● Daemos, ilie dēmā: Daemon, sit up straight ● Skoros: What? ● Konir drējor: Is that true? ● Lo ēlī trēsy issa Royce se rōva jentē syt māzīlaria gaoman ziry, mirre jaelan kostan: If I let the first boy be a Royce and allow her to have major say over their futures I can do whatever I want. ● Kepus: Father

[ainosgarden]

How else could you explain his hand feeding the audience? How words came out like canaries, summer fruit in the dead of winter? They were all in love with him. He had that effect on everyone.

Lestat as Harlequin in style of Art Nouveau theatrical poster

[delicourse]

Snake Year