#... well! those two are having a good time it seems. and this is the only place i respect so i'm OUTTA HERE!

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Heels ~ Viktor x Reader

Pronouns for reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Platonic, romantic feelings, slight enemies to lovers if you unfocus your eyes a bit

General Idea: Viktor used to hate the sound of those damn boots of hers, but now he's grown to find an odd sense of comfort in the noise. Along with... a series of other feelings.

Content Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Viktor being sassy, s1 Viktor, Takes place between S1E3~E4, Viktor's kinda down bad but in a denial way, Viktor also isn't good at realizing he has feelings for the reader, Jayce needs a 32hr nap

A/N: My Viktor headcanons got a LOT more love than I thought they would... so I decided to write some more Viktor XD

(Nobody's POV, but it's mostly told. through Viktor's thoughts)

~☆~

The lab was pretty much silent. The only sounds heard were the sounds of Viktor tinkering with a Hextech device and the occasional flipping of pages as (Y/N) read some notes that Jayce had written. It was late, definetly past midnight as the two worked.

"(Y/N)," Viktor says, breaking the silence. The girl's head pops up at the sound of her name. "Come here for a second? I need a second pair of hands."

"Be right there." She says, finishing the page she was on. She stands up and walks towards him, the sound of her boots hitting the tile as she walks.

Clack

Click

Clack

Viktor used to hate the sound of her boots. "Those damn boots are so annoying," He had complained to Jayce during the first week of (Y/N) working as a part-time assistant. "Click clack click clack, drives me insane!" He had mocked before sighing.

"Viktor... don't both your boots AND your cane make that noise as well?"Jayce had responded, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. This made Viktor at a loss for words.

"Well... It's annoying when she does it!" He had sassed back in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

That was 3 years ago. Now, he found a weird sense of comfort in hearing the sound of her boots hit the floor. He couldn't explain why, enjoyment of familiarity maybe?

"What's up?" (Y/N) says, standing behind Viktor. The smell of her perfume was almost overwhelming to him, overloading his senses. Which was weird, seeings as it must've been almost 13 hours since she'd last applied perfume. And that doesn't last long... was he delusional? Or maybe just tired? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

"Yeah, I just need you to hold this in place." Viktor says, not even looking up from what he's doing. He gestures to a little piece of metal he's holding. (Y/N) leans over Viktor and holds the piece in place as requested. The scientist trys his best to ignore the feeling of her closeness and the racing of his heart... holy crap was it warm in here? It must've been. Although it seemed strange to him that it was magically warm in here all of a sudden. This spirals him into a memory, a memory that took place a little less than a week prior to now.

Viktor sat at his desk, for once not to work on Hextech, but to run his hands through his hair and stay deep in thought.

"Viktor?" Jayce asked. "Are you OK? You haven't been as focused as you normally are today. Did something happen?"

"I think... I think there's something genuinely wrong with me." Viktor says. "Like... maybe I'm coming down with something?? I don't know." Viktor stands up, leaning on his cane slightly for support.

"Oh?" Jayce asks, raising an eyebrow. "Could you, uh, possibly elaborate on that?"

"Well, for one everytime Ms.(L/N) comes near me I about have a damn heart attack." Viktor says, his cane clacking softly on the floor as he paces. "Like yesterday, perfect example. She accidently brushed my hand when she was passing me a paper and I actually thought I was dying."

Jayce suppresses a smile, trying not to laugh. Was Viktor really getting THIS worked up... over a little crush? "Oh?" Jayce says, still suppressing a smile. "Is that it?"

"Whenever she's near me, I swear to the gods that I become hyperaware of... like... everything." Viktor says. "Like the room feels warmer, her perfume or her shampoo is ALL I can smell, I'm almost convinced I know every single speckle of color in her eyes... I think I might actually be going crazy." Viktor says, stopping his pacing. "I'm positive. I've actually hit the breaking point and am decending into insanity."

Jayce now can't help but laugh. Maybe it was his lack of sleep from working on Hextech for days on end, maybe it was the seriousness in Viktor's voice about his "decent to madness." Jayce's laughter came out as almost wheezes due to how hard he was laughing.

Viktor throws his hands up in exasperatedness. "Jayce!" Viktor scolds. "This ISN'T funny! There's-"

This just makes Jayce laugh more and more. "Yes it is, Viktor." Jayce manages to say through wheezes. He's holding onto the desk for support as he laughs. It gets to the point where passersby become mildly concerned for the scientist's wellbeing. "I assure you you're not decending to madness."

"Then what the hell is going on????" Viktor exclaims, collapsing into his chair.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine." Jayce says, wiping the tears of laughter away as he tries to steady his breathing.

"Viktor?" The sound of his name snaps him out of the memory. "You good? I think I said your name like five times." (Y/N) says with a chuckle. Viktor shakes his head slightly.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." Viktor says, continuing what he was doing. He tried to ignore the slight shake in his hands, the side of his own hand pressed against Ms. (L/N)'s own hand. When he's done. He about throws the screwdriver down. "Thank you for your assistance." Viktor says, the weight off his shoulders earning a little sigh of relief.

"Was that all you needed?" (Y/N) asks.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah." Viktor says. (Y/N) hums in response, walking over to her desk. Click, clack, click, clack. Her boots echo in the room. She grabs her coat and walks towards Viktor again.

"I'm gonna head out then." She says. Click, clack, click, clack. The sound of her boots ring in Viktor's head, a haunting sound that he didn't actually mind having on replay in his brain. "You should too soon." She says, her voice kind and soft.

Viktor's stomach feels like it's about to leap out of his body. Even though it was scientifically impossible, he couldn't help but worry about it. "I will soon." He says, the softness in his voice actually shocking him. Normally he'd just lie out his teeth and sleep in the lab, or not sleep at all. However, when he said that he would... he truly meant it. His eyes move away from the project and to (Y/N). "I'm just gonna finish this little bit up."

(Y/N) smiles, it's tired and small, but it's still a smile nonetheless. Seeing her smile along made the corners of his lips feel like they were moving on their own. He suppresses a smile the best he can, but it still shows on his face. "Goodnight, Viktor." She says, her voice still soft. She didn't speak full volume, and that for some reason made Viktor's heart rate skyrocket.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He says, the same tone and volume as (Y/N). She turns and walks out of the room. Click, clack, click, clack. He listens to the sound of her shoes until they completely fade out.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine."

Viktor didn't have a crush on (Y/N)... did he?

~☆~

For more fics: my masterlist

Feel free to request fics!!!

~Squeed

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Compelling Characters

Characters & Goals

“Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.” –Kurt Vonnegut

Characters should almost always have clear goals, even if these goals are not immediately made obvious to the reader.

Without goals, characters lack motivation—that is, they have little reason to do anything interesting.

For this reason, many writers connect the main character's goals to the main conflict in the story. This generally means that the main obstacle to those goals plays a key role in the plot as well (for instance, in the form of a villain).

Often, the main character is most interesting and when confronting his own shortcomings in pursuit of his goals.

There are a few ways to construct this character-plot connection:

CHARACTER-FIRST APPROACH

Constructs a story’s plot for a character that already exists.

It asks a writer to build a character that they find interesting and then assemble the plot around them.

Example: A character who is struggling to overcome a phobia might, as a plot element, come into contact with the thing she fears. Success in this instance would mean that she doesn’t let the fear overcome her.

PLOT-FIRST APPROACH

Starts by defining the major conflicts the writer wants to include in a piece of fiction and then builds a character who will be motivated by those conflicts.

Example: A writer could decide to explore the effect of a catastrophic storm on a city before writing a main character. A character that would feel motivated by this conflict would be one with a connection to the city or to someone living in the city. Therefore, the son of someone who went missing in the storm would likely be a good focal character for this story.

Small Goals & Big Goals

Though it’s important for characters to have at least one big goal, it can be boring for the reader if a character is totally preoccupied with a single motivation.

Strong characters generally have two or more goals of varying sizes that they might confront separately or at the same time.

The reader excitedly anticipates your character's success or failure in achieving their goals.

Believability

Another factor that can contribute to a successful character is an element called “verisimilitude,” also called “believability.”

When writers talk about believability, they talk about whether the constituent parts of a character make sense and feel cohesive.

Example: We might expect a character who gets paid minimum wage to struggle to pay her bills, so if we see her driving an expensive car or spending several hundred dollars on a meal at a fancy restaurant, we would question these details.

There are, of course, stories in which these situations could exist, but the reader would need to know what allowed them to happen (inheritance from a late relative, perhaps, or an irresponsible approach to personal debt).

Suspension of Disbelief

Stories that take place outside of a realistic modern setting will generally require some extra work on the part of the writer to make them believable.

This is because of an idea called “suspension of disbelief.”

This refers to the tendency of readers to challenge details of a story that seem out-of-place, but not to question those details if they are presented with enough contextual justification.

Example: A story contains people who can fly with human-size wings. The reader would need to learn early on that this is a normal event that occurs in the story world. A reader who unexpectedly encounters flying humans three-fourths of the way into a short story could easily be baffled by this development, and might also consider it a cheap cop-out if it's used to resolve a plot conflict.

Adding Physical Detail

In addition to planning your characters thoughtfully, you must also sketch them coherently on the page.

Careful selection of physical and environmental details will make some of your character’s traits visible to your reader without you having to tell them outright what you mean. Examples:

A character who is disorganized might have wrinkled clothing or might consistently arrive late to appointments.

An introverted character might bring a book or notebook everywhere they go and might also stay out of crowded spaces (or feel uncomfortable in those spaces).

Symbolic Meanings

Be aware of the other meanings that a detail can bring into a piece.

A physical detail, especially one that appears multiple times within a work, might also develop symbolic meanings in addition to its literal meaning.

Writing Exercise

In a short vignette, and using only physical details (e.g., characters' clothing, appearance, or body language), make it clear to a reader that a character is experiencing one of the following conditions: worry, hunger, grief, joy, confusion, lack of sleep, anxiety, homesickness.

The word you chose should not appear in your vignette, nor should any synonyms.

Adding Personality

Broadly, ���personality” refers to the collection of beliefs, thought patterns, and other mental qualities that dictate a character’s actions.

A personality trait could be the character’s bubbly disposition, their self-deprecating humor, or the fact that they’re always nervous.

When constructing a character, it’s important to think about how she would react in a number of situations.

Here are some questions to help you discover your character’s personality traits:

Is he fond of attention, or does he avoid it?

Is she curious to learn more about a topic/location/person, or does she keep to herself?

How big of a role does fear play in his day-to-day activities?

How does this character react if things don’t go the way she wants them to?

Does he think that he’s more intelligent/less intelligent than others around him?

Does she think she’s average? How would she define “average?”

How does he feel about making decisions?

Does she make decisions quickly or slowly?

Does he tend to regret decisions they’ve made?

It’s helpful to connect these traits to elements from the character’s life or past.

Example: A character who grew up with a controlling parent might have difficulty making decisions once they start living on their own.

Personality traits might also overlap with physical traits.

Example: Talking too loudly or too softly or interrupting others.

It’s also important to make sure that your characters aren’t good at everything they come across.

Doing so will reduce your story’s believability because—let’s face it—no one is good at everything.

To this end, you should allow your characters to fail at something, whether that something is huge or inconsequential.

Writing Exercise

In a short vignette, deliver some news to your character.

The news can be good or bad.

It can affect just the character, or the entire world population, or any number of people in between.

How does this character react?

Who do they tell, if anyone?

How do they interact with the space they’re in (e.g. punch a wall, hug a stranger)?

Try this exercise several times with the same character but different contexts (e.g., the character receiving the news alone versus receiving it in a public place) to see how they react under different circumstances.

CAUTION: Using Fictionalized Versions of Real People

It’s common for writers to borrow details from real life—the shape of a stranger’s chin, a classmate’s clicking of their pen during a quiet exam, or the restaurant server’s shrill laugh, to give just a few examples—but a writer should be wary of recreating an entire person on the page.

There are legal reasons not to do this, of course, but there is also the danger that a story filled with too many real-life people and events will be flat and boring.

Fiction should generally be a healthy mix of the ordinary and extraordinary.

If the mix is skewed too far in one direction, the reader can find the piece too unbelievable or too boring.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Worksheet: Conflict Lists: 170 Character Quirks ⚜ +600 Personality Traits ⚜ 100 Sensory Words

[aettuddae]

HONEYCOMB — chapter 1.

— summer, 2004.

꩜ synopsis: the lavier-choi's, a french-korean family from seoul's elite that runs an electric vehicle production business, has been preparing to face a looming economic crisis that could crumble their empire, and it all takes a turn for the worse when, unexpectedly, their patriarch, who headed the company, suddenly passes away. at the news and her mother's desperate call, albany, the eldest daughter, is forced to abandon her life in paris representing france as a professional fencer and return to her homeland to face her mom's old-fashioned whims in order to help the family. amidst all the frenzy, the only positive thing she finds is that, after years, she will be reunited with her siblings and all the friends she grew up with, especially the yu family from across the street.

masterlist | next

there are certain things that, as time goes by, you stop questioning. after your twenty-somethings it doesn't really matter what your favorite color is, or that kind of trivia you learn to ask as a child to start a conversation, there are different things to worry about, serious, adult things, like how you position yourself politically or whether you have a place of your own to live and grow old in, or what names you have in mind for your children. it's because of this abrupt reality in which she lived that the question of what her favorite season was hadn't come up in albany's head for years.

if she had to devote any of her time to that dilemma, perhaps now, at 28, she would choose fall. summer in paris was chaotic and as the years went by it seemed to get hotter and hotter, meanwhile winter was gray and depressing. fall was fine, damp at times, but still quiet and cozy at the end.

what she could be sure of was that as a kid she told everyone how much she loved summer.

in all honesty, everyone she knew in her hometown hated summer in korea. it has all the hallmarks of the worst summers you can think of, but albany used to love it.

when the vacations started, her parents would take them to spend it at the family villa in namyangju, it had been one of the many traditions they had for as long as she could remember.

two years before minho was born, the choi parents had bought this big house in gyeonggi, in the middle of the mountain and close to the river, in order to create memories with their children while they took refuge away from all the noise and frenzy of seoul.

of course, the chaos was still with them, it was just a different kind. as albany began to grow up and become more aware of her surroundings, she began to doubt that her mother as elegant, delicate and whiny as she was would have agreed to spend the wettest time of the year surrounded by nature, water and bugs. each year was accompanied by her squealing and annoyances that her father, an adventurer and lover of anything that required physical prowess, was unaffected by, as he was always on the move, ready to set off to embark on a new activity.

summers in namyangju were not relaxing, they were an annual survival camp.

and albany loved it that way, for most choi children had inherited, to a greater or lesser degree, their father's fearless nature. it was fun, it was exciting, for a moment she felt like one of those forest fauns she loved to read about and not the millionaires' daughter with a monotonous predictable life that she really was.

one of the things she loved most was hiking in the mountains, walks on which she always found fruits. her father had taught her about some that could be eaten and some that couldn't, and then she deciphered the others, as well as plants she learned to identify. she took them back to the house where she gave them to the chef to use, and by watching that lady she learned to replicate those recipes.

time also brought her minjeong, who even with that small body ate what sunwoo wouldn't consume in a week and loved the raspberry pie albany made. the little girl was not a good friend of nature, she tried, but it seemed that the outside world was too rough for her little legs still lacking in strength, so every summer, that her parents spent in the namyangju village of her best friends the choi's, she spent eating the dishes that the blonde-haired french girl had learned to make over the years.

thinking about her family also included thinking about the yu's, her parents' best friends who had such separation anxiety that they bought houses just one street away to spend all their life together. her father, choi junmin, had met yu suwon when they were both in high school and from there their friendship only thrived.

summers were spent with the yu's, christmases were spent with the yu's, the meaningless days of the dullest weeks of the year were spent with the yu's. of course the adults were always busy, but the children had been forced to fraternize to such an extent that they too became accustomed to it.

albany didn't know a life where she didn't cook for minjeong, even when she grew older, every time she returned to paris after a few days back home, she found herself baking raspberry pie with no one to offer it to. she couldn't go that long without making her angry or chatting with her about all the fantastic things they thought inhabited the universe apart from humans.

and then, there was jimin. albany didn't know a life without yu jimin.

her best friend in the whole world, her partner in adventure. the girl who climbed out of her window late at night just to talk until they both fell asleep, who had accompanied her to her first gala and who also went with her when she escaped from it. jimin who was there when her last baby tooth fell out and when she had to help her furnish her apartment when she had just moved to france. who used to accompany her to look for elves and who gave her her first 'spiderwick chronicles' book. in all her important moments, jimin had been there and vice versa, her first crushes, kisses, partners, her academic and personal frustrations, her achievements, albany's first fencing tournament, jimin's CSATs and the moment she found out she had gotten into the college she wanted.

when they started to get along, albany was a little older, always going everywhere with wendy and minho, but she didn't really talk to many other people who understood her impatient need, as an eight-year-old girl, to find a fairy among the flora of namyangju, so for three summers in a row, she kept running around, disappearing into the trees and bushes by herself.

until one day, in late july 2004, she wandered farther than usual from the house, finding herself at the entrance to a grove. albany was choi junmin's daughter, she had no reason to be scared, so with a firm step she headed for the logs, ready to catch this fairy she claimed she had seen a week ago, but who kept running away. the problem was that albany was not minho, so she was not completely junmin. she was also her mother eveline's daughter and she carried some of her fearful, sedentary genes in her, so when she saw a figure in the distance that was shorter than her, hunched over and with big ears, she froze in fear. she didn't dare go to capture it or attack it as her older brother would have done, she just stood static, keeping silent so the being wouldn't notice she was there. she crept away until she shot out of the trees and ran back to her family as fast as when she was playing soccer with the neanderthal she had for a brother.

but she couldn't leave it at that, she had found a strange creature in the foliage, she had to go back to investigate what it was, and if it was an evil entity, she had to make sure it didn't attack her siblings. so every day for a week, little albany went back to the same place, ready to face whatever that thing was, which was always waiting for her in that exact position she found it on. but she would freeze, couldn't get close, and ended up returning terrified and frustrated to the house.

one afternoon, now in early august, she returned to the grove. it was the same scenario that had been repeating itself lately, and the same reaction on her part. try as she might, she couldn't get her body to move in the direction of the critter that was standing there. disappointed in herself again, albany turned on her heels ready to go back to where everyone was. she was no longer running from fear, yes, she was still scared, but now she was just walking back crestfallen, berating herself for not being able to face the forest monster. but she couldn't run away that day.

"why you always come here?" a high pitched voice made her jump in place in surprise, followed by a terror running down her spine at the thought that perhaps the creature had heard the girl or her outrage.

"what are you doing here, jimin?" the older girl asked altered, rushing towards the newcomer to get her away from what she thought was dangerous.

"i followed you." she confessed, wriggling out of the blonde's grip and taking a few steps towards where her gaze used to be fixed, in seconds reaching much farther than choi ever had.

"viens ici!" —come here —. she whisper-shouted, rushing over to pull her away.

"what you do here?" the little girl spoke in vaguely understandable words. she had always been intelligent for her age, but she was missing a few teeth, making it difficult for her to enunciate.

"jimin, you can't be here." she took her arm and tried to walk in the opposite direction, but she got away easily.

"are you doing something bad?" an excited giggle accompanied her assumption, she wanted to be a part of it.

"no." she folded her arms. "it's dangerous."

jimin's eyes suddenly expanded and her posture shifted to a rigid one, her pupils probed the area for the threat. she brought her gaze upward, to albany's face, who because of the age difference was quite a bit taller, she looked uneasy. "what happens?" she muttered.

the older one just raised her arm and with her finger pointed to the figure that hadn't moved all week, leading the blackhaired's attention to it, who after analyzing it for a moment squinting her eyes trying to make sense of it, just said with a discouraging tone, "that short thing?"

"how dare you?" albany reproached in agitation. "it's small because it's a gremlin." she reported in a very low tone.

"what?"

"a gremlin." she repeated in the same volume.

"kremin." she tried to echo.

"gremlin."

"kemin." she failed again.

"nevermind." she dismissed. "they're little creatures that make mischief." she explained, holding the subsequent silence for a moment to look up and down at the eldest of the yu sisters. "just like you." she joked, causing jimin to squeal in annoyance and start hiting her shoulder. "se calmer, calm down!" she took advantage of the girl's closeness after her tantrum to tug at her clothes and hide behind a trunk with her. "it might hear us." she warned.

"you're bigger." observed the younger girl.

"and?"

"you can step on it." she assured.

albany contemplated it for a second, but her foot wasn't big nor her leg strong enough, so she shook her head. "i can't." she looked down in defeat. "gremlins are mean." she explained.

jimin turned to look at the taller one, crossed her arms resting her elbow on top of the other and bringing her fingers to her chin to hold it between her thumb and forefinger while emitting a steady 'mmm' sound that indicated she was thinking. "you and i." she pointed to the opposite and then to herself. "there are two of us and he is one."

"what about that?" replied choi confused.

"it can't beat us." assured the girl hurrying to walk in the direction of the creature, sure that albany was coming behind.

jimin walked with confident steps as her eyes scanned the ground for something, while the older one followed closely behind, her body bent over as if she wanted to use the smaller girl as a shield, anxiously letting out strings of words quickly trying to convince her to stop, but jimin was mischievous, the kind of child you would find hanging from the top of a tree without knowing how she got there, she didn't listen and when something got into her head, she wouldn't stop until she did it.

the older yu bent over to the ground to pick something, straightening up with a long branch held in her small fist and raising it in front of her with a proud smile to show it to albany.

"what's that?" the blonde inquired, still terrified.

"a sword!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"be quiet!" she took quick steps to her to catch her face and cover her mouth with her hand. "that's not a sword." she said softly.

"yes it is." she reiterated when she was allowed to speak and immediately gave albany a gentle whack on the forehead with the stick, pushing her away. "we will kill it with the sword." she reaffirmed.

jimin, again, slipped out of the blonde's grasp and dashed towards the gremlin with her branch ready to finish it off. "jimin, soyez prudents!" —be careful —. albany could be heard chasing after her quickly to stop her, but by the time she was close, jimin had already struck the creature with her so-called sword.

they both stopped suddenly, confused as they saw a large pile of leaves scatter in the air after being hit by the small yu and fall to the ground around the small trunk that seconds before they swore was an evil individual that was going to attack them.

"it's a tree." realized albany in embarrassment, realizing that her gremlin was just the base of a tree with some grasses around it that were tall and wide enough to look like ears, and the leaves that jimin had swept away created a hair-like shape.

"i don't think so!" denied the younger girl in a confident tone and impacted the trunk with the branch again. "yes it is." agreed when nothing happened.

"i got scared for nothing." lamented the blonde, annoyed with herself, and dropped down, sitting on the grass beneath her, an action that jimin copied. "thanks for helping me, though." she added after a few minutes without saying anything.

"it's nothing." she gave her a big smile without many teeth. "i protected you like a knight." she commented confidently.

"you don't look like a knight." she refuted with a laugh. "you're pretty and small." jimin furrowed her eyebrows and gave her a displeased sideways glance, she didn't like being called small. "you're more like a fairy." she corrected.

"then," she thought. "i'll be a fairy who protects you." she nodded her head, confirming her words. "what do you think, abany?" she had trouble pronouncing the letter L, so the name came out funnily.

"it's albany." she emphasized the letter she had missed.

"abany." she tried again.

"no, that's not it."

"bany." she sentenced. "what do you think, bany?"

"fine." she agreed. "you will be my guardian fairy." she put her hand on the top of her head, rubbing it and messing up her hair, but jimin stopped her by tapping her wrist with the branch she used as a sword. "can i borrow your sword?" she asked looking at the object.

"i'll teach you to use it." she smiled sideways.

and ever since that confrontation with a gremlin in the summer vacation of 2004, albany choi has not existed without yu jimin.

(!)

taglist [OPEN] : @cwpiqwon

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. he gets saved by strange photographer girl and gets persuaded to start his life all over, a new beginning he didn't deserve.

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. y.seongji x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. crack, a little. (kinda) plantonic. f!reader. self - made au ! [reader saves to the person who deserved it the most in lookism] . spoiler - warning . safe for minors! crappy writing. seongji may seem ooc .

　SNAP !

The male figure, lost in thoughts, got pulled out of his trance, averting his gaze to a woman who held a camera in her hands. Not a moment passed as you lowered your camera to meet his eyes, now staring at him with a smile. "Sorry. I was passing by and then I saw you, going deeper into the water." you explained yourself before taking a good look into the gallery.

"You should stop here or you'll get lost in the ocean." she said while inspecting the shot she took, "it's actually pretty good."

Did she just take a picture without asking? But on other hand, it doesn't matter. He'll drown himself anyway.

"Wow, are you a model?" she asked, finally looking up again.

Just to see him walking away, deeper into the sea. "H-Hey!—" her eyes widened, immediately making her was to him, yet the water was slowing her down. "What are you doing?!" she questioned and took a hold around his wrist, "you could die but I won't let you! Hey, you stranger!—" the woman let out a huff, letting her camera hang around her neck before wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Let go!" those were the first words he let out of his mouth, gripping onto your arms that were hugging him tightly.

"No, are you stupid?! If you go further, drag me with you!" you cried out, "or maybe I'm as stupid as you!"

Suddenly — he lost his balance because of your unexpected, added weight, stumbling down while also taking you with him. The moment you two were falling, he wrapped his arms around you as if it was to protect you. His back crashed down into the sea, the water cushioned the fall and let you two sink into it. You opened your eyes again, pushing yourself up.

"Erm... Sorry! And thanks!" you puffed and looked down, only to see him passed out in the water. "Huh?! Sorry! The camera between us must've hurt!"

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

The fresh smell of ramen woke him up. His eyes opened slowly. And the first thing he saw was the night sky. The moon that was, for once not covered by the clouds, shining calmly down on the beach. "Finally awake, huh? You suicidal maniac." the voice of someone familiar hit his ears as he eventually sat up, his hand was making contact with the sand underneath him.

"You." the person he meant didn't answer. "Why did you stop me?"

Well, yeah. You'd actually turn the question around. Who wouldn't stop someone from unaliving themselves? But you didn't answer, staring at him as if he grew a second head. "Here. Probably didn't eat, right? Your stomach was growling all the time while you were sleeping. And then I got hungry too so I ate before you woke up." you handed him the ramen you bought.

"Answer already." he demanded, not moving to accept the free food.

"If you don't take it, I'll eat it." you huffed and waited again. This time, he actually grabbed the noodles without averting his gaze from you. Wow, you thought he would be more stubborn. "It's getting cold."

"It's already cold."

"Hey, eat it now before I take it back for real now."

Persuaded by your words, his finger twitched, finally opening the already opened cup noodles as he looked down at them. There was no soup visible, already soaked up by the noodles. "Youch. Why dish youh save meh?" he asked once again, this time his words sounded pretty much incoherent. But you still understood most of it.

"Don't talk while eating. It just shows that you have bad manners." you sighed out before introducing yourself, "the name's [name] [lastname] by the way. If you're talking to me then use my name."

"[name]." he stopped eating the noodles for a moment just to hear your name out of his mouth.

"Yes?"

"...why did you save me?" he began to continue with the slurping.

"I mean, isn't it understandable? If someone tries to unalive themselves, you would stop them, wouldn't you?" you raised an eyebrow. "It's common sense."

"I'm a murderer."

Suddenly, the cold wind blew stronger this time, his hair flowed with the air, letting him still look beautiful. You wonder if he is a model. He could if he wanted. "Oh right. What did you say?" you asked him to repeat his words, not even listening. And when you processed what he said, you froze. "Ah, you're a murderer? Nice joke." his expression told you otherwise. "...well. A life is a life."

The guy infront of you frowned and you ask yourself why. What do you mean your answer didn't explain your actions? "I killed someone." the noodles are long forgotten, hiding behind all the thoughts he had. Because of you. What kind of reaction was that? He just told you he killed someone. So why did you shrug your shoulders as if it didn't really matter. "I took someone's life."

"And your face says you regretted it. You also tried to take your own life? You think it makes it better if you just disappear from the world? Isn't there someone who is worries about you?" you knitted your eyebrows in confusion, slight anger.

"It's better for them if I just disappeared. After all, I took the life of their friend. A sister." his eyes sank to the sand. "I'm an ugly monster."

"..." you couldn't help but chuckle at his last sentence. "Hey, if you're ugly what am I?"

"Stop laughing. I'm being serious."

"I am serious. If you're ugly, I must be super duper ugly." you huffed, "what's your name?"

"...Seongji." he answered after a while of silence. "Seongji Yuk."

"Again, if you call yourself ugly, I must be a goblin."

"I never said that."

"Yeah sure, you're thinking that."

"I was not."

"But now you're imagining me as a goblin, right?"

"No."

"Eat your noodles or I will."

"Youch are sho wheird."

"Bad manners. Oh by the way you owe me ramen AND a new camera."

"..."

Seongji stared at you. You stared at Seongji. Until he break the eye contact because of the noodles, but you know it was an excuse to avoid your staring. What did you say? He owes you ramen and a new camera? Where should he get the money from? Are you being serious right now? The next time he met your gaze again, he noticed your blank expression plastered on your face.

"Let's make a deal..." you paused,  "you'll be my muse and you don't need to pay me back."

"No."

"What?! You owe me a camera though? You know how expensive it was?" you pointed at your broken thing.

"It's not my fault. You latched yourself onto me. Besides that, I have no money and no home."

"Because I was saving your life!" you balled your hands into fists, ready to punch his handsome face before calming yourself down. "How about I give you a shelter, food and some clothes then? You can have the guest bed room."

"Why are you doing this all for me?"

"Dude, you have no home, no money and you tried to unalive yourself. Now I'm giving you the best offer that will ever happen." you bit your inner cheek, "are we having a deal or not?"

"...fine." he placed the cup down.

"Good. You're having a new start. You sure about this?" you looked at him.

"...yes."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"By the way what's a muse?"

"Did you live in the mountains?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — tempted to make more parts to be honest. SEONGJI MY LOVE, YOU DESERVED THE WORLD AND EVEN MORE.

[beanarie]

i never wanted water once

@sanguinarysanguinity prompted me to write tommy also baking through it.

tw: mention of past child abuse

~

"Where did all these flatbreads come from?" Cap asks. "Did one of you save a cafe and forget to log it in?"

"Yeah, huh. I dunno." Not looking up from the couch, Tommy turns a page on his manual. "Box was waiting by the door when I came in."

"Oh damn. Did you get to try the one with the goat cheese and arugula?" Jenner asks, her mouth full. "So good."

Tommy concentrates very hard on the words in front of him and tries to ignore the little pulse of warmth in his gut.

The feeling of bread dough between his fingers, dry under a dusting of flour and pillowy soft, smelling of yeast and occasionally olive oil or rosemary, reminds Tommy of his mother. Of Saturday afternoons when he came back from baseball practice and sat in the kitchen to stuff his face and maybe help out a little. The record player would be on with her favorites, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Paul Simon, Laura Nyro, or Cat Stevens adding to the dreamy atmosphere.

She wasn't perfect. She didn't talk much, especially not when some random, pointless, petty thing crawled up his dad's ass and he blamed Tommy for it. But she sang along to her records with a sweet, clear voice, and sometimes she pulled him out of his chair to rock him around the floor in a sort of dance. For those few hours before his dad returned from the VFW, Tommy was safe and happy. She loved him. He'd like to think she'd love the man he turned out to be.

He hasn't thrown himself into baking like this since he was discharged from the army. Once he finds his footing, the results pile up quickly. He starts leaving a box or two behind on his way out for B shift, not only to make space in his kitchen but to hopefully throw anyone off his scent. He considers stopping by on his off days in time for C shift as well, before deciding that's a little unhinged.

Two weeks after leaving Evan, Tommy mentally checks out while shopping and finds himself with the ingredients for keto-friendly focaccia. The dough feels wrong. The smell is off. It seems like all he's doing is building an abomination. But he drowns the whole thing in olive oil infused with thyme and tries a sliver. It's more than passable. He doesn't want it and doesn't want to inflict it on his team, who don't have any dietary restrictions apart from one vegetarian.

He pays someone from Taskrabbit to deliver it to the 118 along with a couple of stromboli stuffed with pepperoni and salty cheese. He gets the tasker to write the labels, not trusting his ability to anonymize his own handwriting.

Then he loses himself in trying to figure out zeppole. They keep coming out too dense, or not frying all the way through.

[jweekgoji]

Hiiiii, I really love your Yan! Sentinel x Prime!Reader, also your SentinelxReaderxStarscream are the best as well! I am a huge fan of both works and both characters, your writings are so *chef kiss* Can I request a somewhat mix of both please? Maybe the Prime!Reader are close with Starscream and it makes Sentinel angry/jealous? Obviously you don't have to, but if you do write for it please take your time :3

Prime!Reader/Starscream/Sentinel

tw: jealousy, rivalry (between Starscream&Sentinel), gender neutral reader. word count: ~1270 a/n: good to know you enjoyed my other fics~ sorry for making you wait too long! the last weeks are exhausting ~_~

Being one of the 13 Primes is no simple task when you have to stand between two fires.

The incoming attack from the Quintessons didn't give you a single cycle of peace either. Over and over again, you've had to brainstorm a new plan with your brothers and sisters on how to push the enemy away from Cybertron. It's exhausting.

At times, you long to lock yourself away in your own chambers, switch off your audio receptors to finally get a break from it all. But luck never seems to be on your side. Every new day started with a new problem, and for some reason, you only had to hear about it from two bots you knew.

Starscream and Sentinel.

Your day could start with an early call from Starscream, where your subordinate, though not literally, hinted at having him accompany you at all times. His presence is absolutely required!

Well that's just Prime.

But when you hear a knock on your door, you don't have to guess twice to find out who it could be. When you finally open the door, standing before you is none other than your faithful servant, Sentinel.

“You look as beautiful as ever,”  Sentinel smiles as he looks in your optics. “And your armour is so wonderfully polished, as I can see.”

Starting your afternoon meeting with compliments was something he was used to, even if his attempts to charm you with his speeches never worked. You are many cycles older than him, Sentinel's behaviour only amuses you at best.

“Zeta Prime would like to discuss something with you, let me escort you to him,” he holds his servos behind his back, taking a couple of steps back from the doorway.

“Zeta wants to see me?” you have a momentary thought. In the current time, that means another long meeting, hours of planning and working out...You nod.

“After you,” he humbly motions for you to go through first, his bright blue optics just drilling your own.

As you walk through the long corridors of the tower, the loud clacking of heels comes from somewhere behind you.

“There you are! I've been waiting for you for like practically half an hour now! Where were you all the time...’ Starscream says in annoyance, his wings twitching faintly as the high guard notices...him.

For a moment, a spark of competition runs between your two subjects. Fortunately, or not for them, it never caught your attention, though perhaps you simply preferred to turn a blind eye to it. You have too many responsibilities right now to waste time on those two.

Sentinel still holds that casual pose, helmet tilted slightly, as if the mere sight of the enraged flyer gives him some kind of enjoyment. It doesn't even help that he's standing behind you, you can't even see that nasty grin on Sentinel's face! Oh, how that slimy, hypocritical glitch is annoying-.

“Not now, Starscream. I'll deal with this later. Wait for me here,’ you calmly respond, then turn around and disappear behind the doors of the hall, where the rest of the Primes are already waiting.

The door slams shut, leaving the high guard and the advisor alone. Starscream frowns, his red optics aimed at Sentinel, who looks equally displeased.

Even though Sentinel was lucky enough to see you first today, the advisor had to come up with all sorts of excuses for you to pay the slightest bit of attention to him. He's occasionally lucky because you prefer Starscream's company to his own! Or so he thinks at first. As one of the Primes, you spend a lot of time on the battlefield, which makes you more often accompanied by Starscream.

Sentinel hates that. Most of the Primes, even Zeta himself calls on him far more often than you do! He's YOUR advisor, how can you care more about some guard?

Knowing Sentinel, if you were even with him for almost all of your time, any side glance would make him extremely jealous.

“You're doing this on purpose. Wasting their time on something that isn't helpful in the war,” Starscream crosses his arms over his chassis, not even hiding his displeasure.

“Me? I would never ,” the Sentinel makes an indignant look that is painfully unserious. “I'm just a mere asvisor to them, helping out with a word here and there. Are you afraid of getting screwed, perhaps?’

“To whom, you? Don't be ridiculous,” Starscream rolls his optics, then steps closer to the Sentinel. “They hardly notice you.”

“You want to bet, Screamer?”

“Bet.”

You don't know how long it's been since you left them alone, but by the time you arrive, Starscream and Sentinel are there, waiting for you. Not a hint of hostility between them, which is surprising. Whatever had happened there during your absence, they had found another target.

After that day, you completely forgot about such a concept as “peacefulness”. Every day, personal space was violated by one of them. If Starscream insisted on accompanying your every move, Sentinel would surely find another reason to distract and then steal you away from poor jet.

It went on like this time after time until you decided to end this madness once and for all.

When Sentinel unexpectedly received your message, he was hardly strong enough not to give the slightest sign of how extremely pleased he was. You, waiting for HIM, in your chambers? Oh, how much that could mean....

How surprised he was to see none other than Starscream at the door- Oh, lovely. Just when he's fantasising about nice things, you find a chance to ruin his dreams.

Had you left them alone for a split second, another fight would surely have broken out, but luckily neither of them have time to utter a word before you suddenly open the door.

“Come in.”

Starscream and Sentinel throw each other a quick fleeting glance, but not another word and they enter your room. It's large, rich, in your style. They've rarely had the chance to be here, even for a moment.

You stand beside your desk, seated in the centre of the room. You can recall many nights spent at it, searching for solutions to Cybertron's problems. Your gaze is neutral, though inside you are far from calm.

“May I ask the reason why you decided to call me and...’’ Sentinel pauses briefly before looking at his colleague again. Starscream gives him the same look, as if daring him to make yet another annoying comment.

“Your behaviour,” you begin first again, closing your optics for a moment, trying to remain calm.

“It's all Sentinel's fault,” Starscream blurts out sharply, pointing at the blue-and-gold fur.

“Of course— stop. What?!” Sentinel exclaims, now it's his turn to be outraged.

“Incompetent, arrogant toady, he should have been removed from his position a long time ago, ” Starscream continues to recount, which can't help but cause Sentinel's optic to twitch.

“I'm talking about the both of you.”

Well, that certainly got their attention. And thankfully, so did shutting up.

No matter how tempting the idea of removing the two of them from their positions and sending them away, you can't raise your hand and dismiss them. How lucky you are that one of your brothers, while drinking high grade energon, blabbed to you about everything and gave you some wonderful idea.

“Whoever completes as many of my errands as possible during the week will receive a special reward from me.”

You pause again for a moment, watching their reactions. Both of your best subordinates look startled, but, extremely interested. For that reason, you continue.

“I expect excellent results. Don't disappoint.”

[grahstumhurts]

3. "The Cutest pair"

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band member! Reader

Rekindling Masterlist

A/N - Lowk "the cutest pair" by Regina song vibes but not exactly.

Wednesday comes fast, One moment you're hanging out at Megan's house, The other you're suddenly at a cheer practice which you never saw yourself at till you reconciled with Megan.  You're sitting on the bleachers, Megan’s letterman laid over your shoulders as you scroll on your phone. It feels performative, While on one hand for years and years you only pined for her. But now that you have her, Kind of, it's conflicting. It's not real, But damn do you wish it was. You hope part of her, wishes it’s real too.

“Hey” Megan yells from the grassy field, Giving you her signature puppy eyed smile. It melts a cold spot of resentment in your heart. “Come down, we are gonna go get food.” She blows you a kiss, Her friends giggle at her antics as they collect their things. You race down the steps into her wide open arms. Her scent lingering with her perfume and now combined with sweat.

“Hi, Megs” You kiss her sweaty cheek. “Gross your all sweaty, Go change.” 

“What? you don't like it?” She rubs her arms on you, Her friends whisper from the side, glancing between the two of you.

“What so you two are like, Actually dating?” Her friend Anya waves her finger around, gesturing at you.

“I thought I told you I was seeing Yn?” Megan slips her arms off your shoulders, Looking confused.

“I thought that it was just for us to stop setting you up with Greg. He really likes you,” Another one, whose name you don't know, comments.

“Just because Greg is Quinn’s brother doesn't mean I'm going to like him. He's clapped if anything, and not my type.” Megan sighs, rubbing her forehead in distress.

“Plus I am very happy with my current situation right now.” she wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into a side hug.

“I'm gonna head home, i'll talk to you guys later” She collects the last of her things and shoves them into her duffle bag, You follow behind her closely. As you pass her “So-Called” friends, you glare at them on your way out.

“Your strong for that, you know?” You bump shoulders with her while walking to your car, she leans against the hood. 

“You wanna come over to mine or just go to your house?” You grasp her hand into yours, rubbing your thumb in between the ridge between her forefinger and thumb, Trying to soothe some of her nerves. 

“I dont wanna go home just yet,” She looks down at her feet, her bags next to her shoes.

“So?” You question the meaning behind that.

“Honestly just wanna be somewhere with you,”

“Oh,” She fidgets with her fingers,

“Unless you have somewhere to be tonight, Totally fine if you do.” She gives you a grin to hide some of the hurt from this afternoon.

“I don't,” You pause. Thinking about things to do, for just the two of you. “Why don't we go to my house, Pick up some food and go for a picnic tonight?”

“Really?” The thought of being alone with her, at the park, on a blanket, Just looking at the stars. It doesn't frighten you somehow. As much as it seemed like dating her would be a dream when you had a crush on her, its not as scary as you made it out to be previously. You two hop in the car and head off to your house,

“You wanna make a pit stop at the grocery store for some snacks?” You grip the wheel with one hand, The other holding hers. She nods,

“I wanna get some Fox’s Jam’n cream, They are so good.” You chuckle at her, "I've been so obsessed with them recently"

“Well let's not get too excited, This grocery store is kinda limited at times.” You pull into the store parking lot. 

-

“Ohhh! I used to eat these all the time after school as a kid” You pull out one of your favourite snacks, A packet of seaweed rice crackers (A/N Yes those are actually my favourites)

“I remember, You would never share with me.” She snickers, Remembering the times as kids you two shared. “I used to get so mad cause i shared my snacks with you”

“Fair enough, Kid me was kind of a bitch.”

“Kind of? Understatement” Megan coughs out the other half of her sentence. You shove her shoulder, giggling.

“Your laughs really pretty” She blurts out. When she realises what she says her face turns red.

“Thanks, Meg.” Your face feels hot when her words settle in your brain.

 She thinks your laugh is pretty. 

Your laugh is pretty. 

Is pretty. 

Pretty. 

You two silently shove more snacks into the cart, adding in some drinks along the way. The silence isn't uncomfortable, Like it used to be. But usually before she would fill the gaps in conversation with funny thoughts that pop in her mind. It's more relaxed, one could say that the two of you look like you’ve been dating for years. The silence is warm and it smells of citrus and vanilla.

(A/n if your perfume is vanilla scented just pretend that its whatever your scent is)

[itstheval]

Memory of Dreary Days / Siffrin Gets An Earring

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

It was a lovely autumn day, and Siffrin was miserable.

This wasn't anything new, they'd come to realize. The events of Dormont had changed - and possibly Changed - them, but that was months ago, a little over a year now. No, this frustration was newer, possibly the last few months, but they'd managed to identify it over time.

They watched Mirabelle and Isabeau, in front of them, chatting about what Changes they might want to make in the future. Isabeau had a whole list of ideas, but Mirabelle was being more cautious, as usual. Odile was watching and writing, and Bonbon, they were sitting on Nille's shoulders as both of them added their two coins when they had an idea. Leaving you, Siffrin the Traveler, as an outsider. Again.

It wasn't their fault, you knew it. You were empty inside, and this entire adventure you were on was to fill you. That was something the doctor had mentioned, that you seemed to agree with…You didn't have a past, so they were making you one, because they wanted you to. So why were you being talked over, and around? Why were they treating you like a pet, not someone with their own ideas?

The only thing worse than knowing it was it being known, unfortunately. It seemed like they came to a pause in conversation, and Isabeau looked back as though remembering you existed after so long ignoring you.

"What about you, Sif? Got any ideas for big Changes?"

You could laugh. You could sob. You remembered being as large as the sky, and just as filled with stars. You pictured yourself, star-headed and lightless-skinned.

"I don't think so! That's a Vaugardian thing, isn't it?"

The words were more bitter than you imagined them to be, and the second they left your lips you knew that they were wrong. A second after, you told yourself otherwise. "Words can't be wrong", the doctor had said, "If you mean them. You're trying to express yourself, not win a game." Well, from the way everyone else's faces fell, that was good, because you'd have just lost hard.

"That doesn't mean you can't Change! There's Houses everywhere that will take you in and help you, too."

"Yes," Odile continued. "I've thought of using them myself, during my time here, but I never had time to stay in one place, what with…everything."

"Really, madame? You're so pretty! What would you even change?"

And the conversation was off again…Odile explaining her heritage yet again, too-thick hair and too-wide eyes for ka bue, too-thin eyes and too-thin hair for Vaugarde. You wondered, sometimes, if Ka Buans had thought she was as pretty as Vaugardians do. You wonder, in the moment, if they'd bother talking to you again.

They hadn't.

You'd caught Isabeau looking over at you, with something more thoughtful than pity, but you could see the pity in it. Whatever he had in his mind, it wasn't enough to make him ask about anywhere else, or change the subject. Quietly, you thought about how much nicer it would've been if you'd just gone for a comfortable lie instead.

▬▬▬

It was a rainy, autumnal day, and Siffrin was bored.

It wasn't anyone's fault, everyone knew that was just what happened in Autumn. You found somewhere to stay until the rains ended, or you trudged through the worst mud that you could imagine. Bored or miserable, and to the family the choice was obvious. Siffrin had been…letting themself think of them that way for a while, even without telling them. Their little secret. Maybe not their family, but they were the family, and nobody could blame him for that, right? Watching Mira read to Bonbon, watching Isa and Nille talking about, of all things, carpentry, and Madame writing in those inscrutable books of hers.

You hated it. You hated listening to it, you hated being part of it, and you hated being trapped in it. It was nothing like the loops, you knew, but it was almost worse in its way. Watching everyone else with a role, with something to do, and you off to the side like some pet. You'd already napped yourself dry, and nobody had begrudged you sleeping through breakfast, even if it meant you were likely to stay up well after the candles were out at night. But the rest of your day…

You sighed. Sitting there wasn't going to make you any happier, and you'd already looked at all of the books Mira had brought with her. You'd read through the horror stories until they started showing up in your dreams, when Mirabelle had banned you from reading any more of them because of how you'd been whimpering in your sleep. Isa had tried to defend your right to read, but the looks Odile had given him had made him blush in a peculiar way and stop trying, and that had been the end of it. The less said about the romances, the better. You understood that Vaugarde was an open place, but the things they dreamt up to keep two people from each other felt so cliched, so unreal, so impossible that you couldn't get into them.

So, you laid there, in a bed, in a wooden room, staring at the ceiling until the morning came.

How familiar.

That thought sent a shudder down your spine that you knew everyone noticed, but you got out of bed before any of them could comment on it. No, you were dealing with this. You weren't being dealt with, not this time. You hopped up, and walked over to Odile, who closed her book as you approached.

"What could you be writing down now?" you found it in you to ask. "Vaugardian rainy-day games? I thought you were a master at those." The joking tone managed to reach your voice, you thought, and you were glad for it.

"Oh, I wasn't writing at all. Believe it or not, I'm designing something."

"Designing?" The surprise in your voice was clear.

"Well yes. You have your woodcarving…Or had it, when we were near forested areas enough to find scrapwood. Mirabelle has her writing. I thought I should perhaps try my hands at something creative."

"Oh, can I see?" This was WAY more interesting than laying in bed!

"If you can guess what it is, then yes. It wasn't fair that I didn't get to see your face when my research was revealed, after all." Her smile was coy and knowing, but she did, ultimately, have a point.

"Oh, is it…" You looked around, trying to think of what could be in the room that she could draw inspiration from.

"Clothesmaking? Like Isa plans to?"

"Nice try, young one. But that's your one try for the day." Odile's eyes turned up as she thought about the idea. "Besides, do you think I'd compete with Isabeau? In something he's planned for that long?"

You had to concede the point.

▬▬▬

"Carpentry?"

"Can you imagine me swinging a hammer, Siffrin? I know my limits, and they stop well before there."

▬▬▬

"Bookbinding!" You thought for sure you had her on that one. Something to do with her precious books, and something she could study from Mira's colleciton and her own?

"Sadly, no. But, now that you mention it, maybe I should."

▬▬▬

So the days had passed, until things were clear again. The world was colder now, and you could feel it around your cloak, but everyone was well prepared for it. You'd all gotten your own instructions on what to purchase, and been sent off to pick up supplies, which had taken the whole day between bartering and transporting. Thakfully, without Mira there you managed to get a Savior of Vaugarde Discount, and used the extra coin to pick up a pain au chocolat. Some things, it seemed, were eternal, and this one you didn't mind.

So it was that you returned to the inn, one hand with a canvas bag full of smaller bags, spices and flour and other things for Bonbon, the other letting you munch away happily, but you found yourself pausing outside the door. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You finished your treat quickly, and opened the door with a hand on your dagger. A pre-feeling, something that you couldn't put words to, told you that there was something going on beyond the door

You were right.

But not how you thought.

Instead, the family had been standing around in a half-circle, seemingly waiting for you to get back! You barely had time to rescue the groceries as a Bonbon-shaped missile impacted your legs and held you, Mira following after on the other side and Nille even stepping in to ruffle your hair, as Odile looked on fondly, and Isa…Hid something.

As lovely as the feeling was, your suspicions were raised far too high.

You managed a laugh, and to pull yourself free of the hug after enough time that it had started to loosen, before staring down Isa. Watching his cheeks darken was almost worth he price of admission, even as the others spoke around you. Again.

"I told you he'd notice!"

"You hardly had a better idea, Mirabelle."

"Uh-uh! We shoulda done it at dinner! Make sure he's comf-ta-bul."

"Comfortable, Boniface."

"That's what I said!"

It all flowed around you, as you stepped closer to Isa, and sighed. "I know what bonding earrings are, Isa." You allowed, holding out a hand, making him stutter even worse - and sending a roil of laughter around the room from everyone else.

That wasn't it? Then what was he hiding?"

"You're half right, I'm afraid. This is actually something we'd all been thinking about for a while…The past week just proved how important it was. It's not bonding earrings, but…"

As Odile spoke, Isabeau brought a black jewelry box around, holding it out to you. His words were trembling and small, in the way he always seemed to do only for you. You wished he wouldn't…his big booming voice was always so nice.

"We noticed you don't have any earrings yourself, Sif! And…I mean, you're as Vaugardian as any of us, if you want to be. Not that you should feel like you have to give anything up for us! But! I thought this might…make it easier to remember?"

What…were they saying?

Isabeau opened the box, and instead of one of his black i-earrings like you'd expected, a pair of star-shaped earrings rested inside. They were a light shade, just dark enough to notice around your hair, and obviously handcrafted. The edges were imprecise, the designs weren't symmetrical, and you could feel the love in every angle.

You stared. You didn't know what else to do.

Isa was saying more things, and it sounded like other people were responding, but you lifted up a hand to the box. A shaking hand, you realized when it was halfway there. Trembling, uncertain, but you didn't dare stop now. Not when they'd put so much effort in.

"-know what I was working on, the past few days. It's something of a rush job and it shows, but it's even more Vaugardian to have it made by your family, isn't it?" Odile was speaking.

Made…by your family.

Made by them.

You cried. You wrapped your arms around the giant body of Isabeau and you cried and you sobbed and you bawled and for once in your life, you weren't ashamed of a single sound you made. There wasn't any room for it in your heart. Not with everything else you were feeling.

Everyone else was holding you in moments. You turned, as best you could in the group hug, to include all of them. You knew you were getting tears and snot all over them and you didn't care. They were there. They were your family. They…You were one of them.

In that moment, of all moments, you were loved.

[sokkastyles]

Actually, yeah, there is such thing as trespassing, and you sure do seem to complain a lot about me "misconstruing" your arguments when you came here to argue with me and then claimed about four times in this reblog that I said Mai was an abuser when I said nothing of the sort. I thought you wanted to agree to disagree. I think "nasty" is a word that fits you better, since that's how you started acting because I didn't agree with your opinions on a fictional character.

"Aside from her just existing as a fire nation character on the wrong side of the border"

Lol, THIS is the kind of stuff Azula stans say, actually. Mai helped Azula capture Zuko and infiltrate Ba Sing Se, and fought the gaang numerous times. The first time we meet her, she shows disdain for the city her father helped colonize. We are told that Mai and Azula bond over their "dark sense of humor," which is also what we see a lot of from Mai. She makes a joke about the Dai Li "peeing their pants." She makes a joke about ordering around servants. She's a villain. She's not the worst villain, but she is a villain. We are supposed to think she's a villain. It's not speculative. Otherwise, why did she need to learn to be better in the first place? I know the show is making an attempt at showing her growth, I just don't think they do a very good job of it, and I find your arguments of "but actually she did nothing wrong" alternating with "but actually she got better" to be inherently contradictory and not helping you here. The difference between the Azula stan arguments you are citing is that while we are supposed to feel sorry for Azula to a degree, we are also still supposed to recognize she is a villain. I think you know this, but you're using a strawman argument. Just like I think you know that we're supposed to not think Mai is not being particularly kind when she dismisses Zuko's worries about going home. Something she does in part because of her own trauma, but also because she helped put him there and that is not something she is willing to admit. Saying that she "doesn't have to be his therapist" is not only callous, but an inherently bad reading of the show. And no, the scene is not portrayed as it being "just a joke." Zuko looks upset when she says that. He accepts being kissed, but the tone of the scene is still meant to make us understand that Zuko is right and Mai is wrong.

I don't have time to go through every scene with you and explain where you're being willfully obtuse about this because you don't like that I don't think these two characters would be besties. But I do think it's interesting that you jumped real quick to the "but Zuko." I think you also know that the difference with Zuko is that he was actually shown unlearning most of the things that Mai kinda sorta unlearns on a personal level, actually understood why his country was wrong and worked to correct those wrongs. Mai ends the show with "actually, I kind of like you" but also feels entitled enough to tell the person she's with to never break up with her. That's not good enough for me. I get what the show was trying to do here, but I don't have to like it, sorry. That's not the same as me saying Mai is an abuser. Get out of here with that nonsense, or stop acting like you're better than Azula stans who blatantly make shit up.

I know what Zuko says about protecting Mai. That doesn't erase the context of him not trusting her. Why would he? Their relationship is not built on trust. That's not entirely Mai's fault, but there is a fault when we try to ignore the context which does include Mai being an agent of fascism, does include him being in a context where he is not safe on a personal level and is being abused. Ignoring that context is not great. And if you have to ignore it to make maiko work, well, then, that's why it doesn't.

Anyway, I don't actually think Katara should punch Mai (mostly), but like. Come on. The comics are bad but they didn't pull Mai supporting imperialism out of thin air, and "he wasn't a real threat" is a ridiculous thing to say in her defense. Zuko's characterization in the comics feels regressive because we actually do see him working to end the war. We don't see Mai care about anything except Zuko. And that's me being generous about it. It's not unreasonable to critique her character based on that alone.

You're also still making a false equivalence based on Sokka and Suki's relationship. What would be a real comparison is if Sokka and Suki broke up because Suki tried to kill him and then when they met again Sokka wasn't sure whether she was still his enemy. The difference is that Suki is never written as a villain and Mai is. Like, it's okay to admit this. And again, if you can't, then that's why her character arc and her relationship with Zuko don't work.

"I think Katara would get along with Azula/Mai because female solidarity!"

Cool. I think Katara would punch fascists in the throat.

[scrumptiouskoalahottub]

☁️Invisible| George Clarke

Summary: you have a crush on George, but you don't believe you're good enough for him, little do you know you're just his type.

It wasn't unusual that you were the last person someone picked, whether it be for a teams in games or dates; you were the black sheep. You were outgoing, a bubbly person but was shy at the same time. You'd recently joined content creating and started on TikTok, expanding your taste palette for new ideas you came across a guy name George, he posted funny skits and impression videos, although you weren't the type to do those things, his content inspired you to create something new. You decide to follow him.

You post a haul of your shopping trip to b&m, showing your followers the new things and dupes along the way, you were an eye for bargains and anything similar to the expensive price tags. Racking just over 70,000 followers in just a short few months you were invited to a pr event with White Fox. A brand that you'd never personally purchased from but you did love their products, you accepted through your management and agreed to vlog/promote the brand at the event.

You were so excited, your first Pr opportunity. Tears form in your eyes from joy as you make a video "hey guys i have some exciting news! I've just been invited to my first pr event with White Fox, I'm going to vlog my whole experience and break it down for you guys along the way, I'm so grateful to be able to have these opportunities thanks to you guys watching!" You say with beams of happiness as you sign off the video and upload it.The event was 3 days away so you had time to prepare. You placed your phone on charge whilst you did the laundry, a time you like to take off social media and block out the outside world, although it's your job.

After your small detox you open up your phone, lots of TikTok notifications flooding through with congratulations when two stood out to you.

@georgeclarkeey liked your video

@georgeclarkeey started following you

Your eyes widened in shock, a creator you took inspiration from had followed you, you wasn't sure why all your content being girly related but non the less you were buzzing. You responded to a few comments on your video for a while as you sipped on an iced coffee, when a message popped on your phone.

@georgeclarkeey: "hey sorry for the random message, I saw your video about your pr event and I just wanted to firstly congratulate you on it, you're doing really well! Also I am aswell invited to the event, wonder if you'd like to meet there? Don't want it to come across weird haha"

Your mouth ran dry, a sense of shock and excitement overboard your body, how could someone like George Clarke want to meet me you thought, you were never people like George's cup of tea, the lonely kid in school who'd eat alone and now a big creator asks to meet you. You hesitate to reply incase you make a fool of yourself, strumming the confidence to reply.

You: hi! aw thanks for that, I appreciate it! It's been a shock to the system to say the least haha, I'd love to meet up, I'd know nobody there apart from my management so you'd do me a solid!"

You smile into your phone like a schoolgirl with her first crush, George was undeniable attractive he had a big girl following and everyone went crazy for him. You were quite fond of him yourself to say the least. @georgeclarkeey: "no problem at all, it's always a shock when you get your first but honestly the only way from here is up, would you like to meet at the event or beforehand? A coffee or something?"

You: "a coffee sounds great, let me know where and I'll be there, thanks for being so kind"

@georgeclarkeey: "perfect! I'll text you a coffee shop closer to the event so we won't have far to walk afterwards also it's my pleasure! Nice to see some other varieties of content surfacing, your contents lovely to watch"

Shut the front door. THE George Clarke telling you your contents lovely to watch? You're kidding. The world seems fake right now, so many emotions rushing through you.

You: "Thankyou George, it means a lot, I've took a lot of inspiration from your videos to try and open my confidence up a little, so you could say your contents helped me in ways to boost my career"

You continue to chat, getting to know eachother.

-

Day of the White fox Event

Your nerves were setting in, your first event meeting new people and also meeting up with George. You opted for a some casual clothes, baggy mom jeans and a white crop top with a flannel shirt over the top. Your makeup as basic as normal, a touch of brow gel, a pop of mascara and some skin tint. Nothing major. You make your way into London to meet George, he'd text you the address beforehand, a 2 second walk from the venue. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders as the London breeze hit your skin, a mix of crisp and warm air. Just as you get to the coffee shop your stomach sinks, what if he doesn't like me? Thinks I'm weird? The battles of your overthinking brain looms and looms as you step in, there he was, blue eyed and handsome.

His eyes shoot up as you walk through the door, a warm smile makes it way over his face "hey, glad you could make it" he says arising from his seat to hug you, a mixture of mint and aftershave flooded your nostrils as you embraced him for a hug "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, how are you?" You reply sitting down "ah I'm good, busy but good, yourself?" He replies "same really, not so much as busy as you probably but yeah, I'm excited" you smile, his gaze wandering down to your lips as you spoke as shivers tingle down your spine. You talk over coffee for a while before heading to the venue.

"You ready?" He says with a warm smile opening the door for you "I think so" you chuckle nervously "you'll be fine, don't worry I'm here if you need anything" he says with a reassuring tone which wrapped around you like a warm blanket of safety. You give your names to the people at the desk and collect your lanyards, you pull out your phone to introduce your video.

"Hi guys, I've just arrived and the nerves are kicking in, I'll try to film as much as I can for you all, trying to sink into the reality of it all along the way and make new friends which I seem to have-" you were interrupted by George poking his head in "she's already made one friend, well should I say I practically befriended her" he chuckles placing a hand on your shoulder as he walks to grab a drink. You put your phone away, saving the footage, George Clarke in your video would be a big shock to your fanbase for sure.

The night goes on and you meet new creators, have interviews with some labels and tell everyone on how you got into influencing, the night couldn't have gone much better; George was there to reassure you when you felt nervous and just guide you through the whole experience which you were thankful for. There was an after party, but you opted not to go.

"Leaving so soon?" George asking raising a brow, "yeah sorry, parties aren't really my thing, Thankyou for tonight George I appreciate it a lot" you say smiling "we could go grab a drink elsewhere if you wanted, just me and you?" He says, you were taken a back by his response that he wanted to leave the event, to be with you, in a strange turn of events you'd never imagine something like this would happen, you weren't up to beauty standards nor were you a model, why did he want to go for a drink with you? "You don't have to, I wouldn't pull you away from your friends" you reply "you're not, you're my friend and I want to have a drink with you" his sweet smile returns, a gaze of sincerity plastered over him like a genuine interest in you loomed inside him "okay, maybe just a quiet one" you say as he nodded, you said bye to everyone and left, scoping out a bar to indulge in.

You chatted for a while at the bar, like you'd known eachother a life time and not just a few days, you got on like a house on fire, taking in eachothers interests. It's like no matter what you said, did or how you acted George would always match your energy and it comforted you. After a while you call it a night, it was getting late. You walk out the bar as you book an Uber home

"I've really enjoyed today, Thankyou" you say with a soft smile "me too, normally I hate pr just because of the social interaction, but you've made it easy to bare" he says laughing "well atleast I could be of some use" you retort, silence looms over you as George stares at you for a little longer than normal "can I kiss you?" He says nervously, your eyes widen "really?" You say shocked "is that okay?" He says "yeah-just nobody's ever wanted to kiss me" you say nervously "why not, you're really pretty, funny and easy to get a long with" he says brushing his hand against yours, with a soft smile as he cups your chin and places a soft kiss onto your lips, a magnetic shock goes through you like it was something you had longed for a while, a connection that felt so right. You pulled away and stared at eachother for a minute as you sink in the reality of what had just happened. You exchange numbers and arrange to meet up again, turns out your worrying was for nothing, you were just his type.

-

🫶🏻

[himluv]

Dark, Complex, and Intriguing

Would anyone like some more Lucanis right before the holiday?

The cot creaked as Lucanis settled onto it with a sigh. He loosened his collar, unpinning his crow-head lapel chains, and leaned back to rest against the wall. He could not remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed. 

Despite everything, he was alive and free. Treviso might be occupied by the Antaam, but it had not lost its spirit nor its charm. The markets were as vibrant as he remembered, though there were differences. He just couldn't tell if the city had changed, or if the difference lie with him. 

Perhaps a little of both.

But Café Pietra had not changed. The atmosphere was impeccable, both intimate and lively, a bastion for coffee enthusiasts like himself. And the Andoral's Breath was just as good as he remembered. 

He could have wept at the aroma alone. For a moment there, he almost had. It all hit him at once, in those split seconds before that first sip. He was alive. Treviso was still there. And he was about to drink his favorite coffee, one that mere days ago he had believed he would never taste again. 

If he'd been alone, in private, he would have let the relieved tears fall. But Rook was there, quietly sipping her own cup of Andoral's Breath. Lucanis had been flattered that she took his suggestion, and even more pleased that she'd seemed to appreciate the brew almost as much as he did. 

And then their conversation had spiraled into strange territory, about first kisses. He stood by his statement, first kisses were like honey and lavender cream. Things were always sweetest when they were new and so full of potential. 

But Rook's answer was a good one. Each kiss is different. She'd sounded so sure, and so sure that he understood her meaning. That he shared that experience. 

Nothing could be further from the truth. He barely knew anything about first kisses, and he only knew of kisses goodbye from the novels he'd read. Romance just wasn't a part of his life. Mainly because his life had never really been his. 

So he'd changed the subject. And when asked about her coffee, she’d described it as dark, complex, and intriguing. Which could describe Andoral's Breath…

His eyes snapped open with realization. “Mierda, I'm an idiot.” Rook hadn't been talking about coffee at all. All that talk about kisses and then she says that?

Was Rook… flirting with him?

No, Spite said. Not possible. Why would Rook. Want. You?

A perfectly legitimate question to which Lucanis had no answer. But, he knew just who to ask. 

The next morning, Lucanis went to visit Bellara. When he entered her quarters, Neve was there, the two of them chatting about some new scandal in the Tevinter papers. 

“Oh, hey, Lucanis,” Bellara said.

He panicked. Talking to Bellara about this was stressful enough. He couldn't have this conversation in front of Neve, too. 

“I'm interrupting,” he said. “I'll come back later.”

The women shared a look he could not interpret, but seemed to come to an understanding.

“I was just leaving,” Neve said, which was obviously a lie. “I'll talk to you later, Bel?”

Bellara smiled. “Sounds good, Neve!”

Lucanis listened to the detective go, and waited for the door to close to look at Bellara.

She frowned. “Is everything okay? You're acting strange. Is Spite acting up again?”

Not me. Not this time.

“No,” Lucanis said. “Spite is fine, for the moment.”

“Oh, well, good!” 

Lucanis stood in the center of the room and tried to think of what to say. But everywhere he looked his reflection stared back from too many mirrors and he couldn’t think.

Glinting and golden. Trinkets for the tinkerer, Spite mused. 

“Sooooo, what did you want to talk about?” Bellara perched on her workbench, swinging her feet like he and Illario used to do on the rooftops as boys. The familiar motion helped him settle.

“You and Rook are friends, right?”

She nodded. “Oh, sure. I mean, we've been Veil Jumpers together for a couple of years now. Although we didn't see each other much after she left to help Varric.”

“But, you are close? You… understand her?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” She laughed. “Lucanis, what is this about?”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “We went to meet Illario at Cafe Pietra last night—”

“—oh, yeah! She said she had a great time.”

“She…” he blinked at Bellara. “She did?”

Rook talked. About you? Spite bounced between Lucanis and Bellara, curious and agitated. Why?

She nodded, her earring jangling with the motion. “Mm-hm! She said the coffee was super good.”

“Of course it was,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What else did she say?”

“Um, nothing really. Just that she liked it and it seemed like you had a good time. She said it seemed good for you to go.”

“I did,” he said. “And it was.”

“That's great!” Bellara smiled at him. Then her brow furrowed. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes,” he said. “and, no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mierda, I feel so stupid.”

Stupid, Spite sang. Stupid stupid stupid!

“You're not stupid, Lucanis,” Bellara said. “What's going on?”

So, he explained it. His whole conversation with Rook, nearly beat for beat. 

“I've thought about this too much,” he said, shaking his head. “I can't believe I thought she was flirting with me.”

Bellara laughed. “Oh, she was definitely flirting with you.”

WHAT?

“What?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Which for her is pretty smooth. I wonder if she was inspired by the coffee or…?” She stopped when she noticed his dumbstruck expression. 

“Oh, is it unwanted? I can tell her to stop—”

He put a hand up to interrupt her. “No! No, thank you, Bellara. I can handle it.”

“Okay,” she said. She chewed on her lip, and a little crease in her brow gave him pause. 

“What is it?”

“Just, if you're going to turn her down, maybe…” she winced. “Do it gently?”

He raised a brow at her. 

“I don't want to get into it, but her last relationship ended pretty badly, so, you know…” Bellara blushed, as if she knew she shouldn't have said anything.

Her last relationship… how many had Rook had? How far behind was he? Not that it mattered, because he was not going to pursue this. He didn't do romance.

Still, he gave Bellara a soft smile. “I'll take that into consideration,” he said. “Thank you, Bellara.”

“Anytime,” she said. 

He headed for the door, but paused as Bellara called after him. 

“And, Lucanis?”

“Hmm?”

“Maybe try to get some sleep?”

He nodded. “Maybe,” he said, then stepped back out into the courtyard. 

Back in his room, Lucanis lay on his cot and tried not to think. Bellara was right. The lack of sleep had left him frayed, which made him more likely to overthink and analyze every interaction. 

Rook had flirted with him, and he'd been utterly clueless in the moment. Were there other times she'd said something he'd misunderstood? How oblivious was he?

But the biggest question he kept repeating was, so what?

Rook flirted with him. So what? She seemed kind and like she genuinely cared about his well-being. So what? She rescued him from the Ossuary. So what? She wasn't afraid of Spite. So what? 

Did any of that actually matter? Lucanis wasn't even sure he wanted her affections. He had so much else to think about— Treviso, Caterina’s funeral, his vengeance against Zara, and, of course, Spite. And, he couldn't forget this contract. He had gods in need of killing.

It was too much. There wasn't room in his head to discern if he even liked Rook, let alone what to do if he did. And he was so, so tired.

Luckily, a year in the Ossuary had made Lucanis good at shutting down his thoughts and feelings. He just needed to breathe and be still. Spite, however, was less skilled.

The demon prowled the pantry, muttering just loud enough he was sure Lucanis wouldn't be able to ignore him. 

Rook. Likes. You? He spat. Why? Rook is smart. Nice. Fun. Spite glared at Lucanis. Not like youuuu.

There was a pause as Spite waited for Lucanis to reply, but he said nothing. He didn't even look at the demon. He was trying to sleep.

Yesssssss. Sleep! Then I find Rook! Spite's grin always looked threatening, but this one was a little too unhinged. Ask what she sees in YOU.

Lucanis ignored the way his chest tightened at the thought of Spite controlling his body while he and Rook were alone. He could not let that happen.

“She's not here,” he said. “She left with Harding early this morning.”

Spite growled in frustration. We. Want. OUT!

This argument again. Until he found some way to separate them, he didn't think Spite could get anymore “out”. This was as good as the demon would get.

No. No no no. We. Made. A. DEAL.

With a sigh, Lucanis sat up and rested his head against the wall. “We'll go to Treviso later,” he said. “I need more spices anyway.”

Spite growled, but it was a low sound, one of resignation. Fine.

Lucanis smiled. A lifetime with Illario had prepared him well for dealing with this demon. When they threw fits for not getting what they wanted, you gave them something else they wanted. Something smaller, easier to manage. 

Spite liked the markets almost as much as Lucanis did. It was a simple thing to offer a visit, something that would be pleasant for them both.

With the demon settled, a fresh wave of exhaustion washed over Lucanis, and he fell asleep there, propped against the wall. 

In the dining hall, the door opened, the groan of its hinges pulling Lucanis from his sleep. He checked the candles, but they still burned high and bright. He hadn't slept long.

Footsteps drew closer, the muffled slap of bare feet on the stone floor. So, Rook was back. 

He ignored the pleasant churn in his stomach. She wasn't coming to see him, she was probably just hungry. 

But then his door opened and she peered inside. “Hey Lucanis,” she said. “ Got a minute?” Her face was bright from exertion, or perhaps too much sun reflected off water. Of course she and Harding would spend the morning outdoors. They were both too pale for so much unfiltered daylight. It made the freckles scattered across the bridge of Rook’s nose look like sprinkles of cinnamon on latte foam. 

His stomach did another traitorous flip. 

“Of course,” he said. 

She smiled, ducked out of the room, then reappeared with a silver and purple tea set. “Um,” she said. “I, uh, got this. For you.”

He stared for a moment, eyes wide and mouth agape. “For me?” 

She smiled. “Yeah. I know it's meant for tea, but I figured you could use it for coffee.” She shrugged. “You know, so you can keep it close?”

He took it from her and set it on the side table nearest his cot. First the wyvern-tooth dagger, and now this? If he'd had any doubts about her interest, they were gone now.

“Thank you, Rook,” he said. “That's very thoughtful.” Lucanis was genuinely touched by the gesture. It was a lovely set, one he recalled seeing in the market the night before. Had she gone back for it today?

“I'm glad you like it,” she said, her smile widening. This close, in the candlelight, Lucanis noticed the violet tinge to her blue-grey eyes. The color reminded him of the innermost petals of the crystal grace in Villa Dellamorte's gardens. Delicate and pale, and so soft to the touch.

“Well,” she said, breaking the silence. “I'll, uh, see you at dinner?”

Lucanis cleared his throat and looked back at the tea set. “Of course. I'll see you then.”

He didn't look at her as she left the room. He didn't want her to see the confusion he felt reflected in his eyes.

Trouble, Spite said. 

And for once, he and Lucanis agreed. Because, as rare as it was for him, Lucanis couldn't deny the way his stomach flipped when he thought of her. Or how flustered he felt when they stood too close. How the air warmed when she walked in the room and how easy she made it to smile. 

He groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. Maker help him, he was falling for Rook.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Gmmtv 2025

So now, that I have time, I'm actually gonna sit and watch the trailers properly. Let's go.

Dare You to Death - The plot is appealing to me, the cast is interesting. I was never a JD fan so if I decide to watch it will be for all the ensemble and the actual plot.

Head 2 Head - My babies! Forced cohabitation my beloved. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see the vision thingy cause other than that this just seems like a cute bl, and I'm here for that.

Burnout Syndrome - OffGun in a love triangle? Gun being fought over by two men just has god intended? I am so seated for this!

Whale Store xoxo - MilkLove is back and I wanna like this one. It seems cute, and drama light. I'll probably be tuning in.

Only Friends - Dream On - The chill that came down my spine when the song started playing. I left my body. With that said, and like I said before, EarthMix is here, so who am I kidding? I will watch. Kinda surprised to see JossFluke already paired in another bl, before the first one has even started airing. OhmLeng was predictable as a recurring pair and I'm always here for Ohm. Leng has a lot to prove being surrounded by all these names.

That Summer - MOND! Mond kissing boys! That's it.

My Romance Scammer - Not in a million years did I think we would get this OhmFluke combo. Dimples is back kissing boys and Ohm is just back. And MarkJunior seem to be here to stay. Also, I love that since we got gay marriage we should immediately tackle gay divorce. Sounds good.

Melody of Secrets - I'm glad they're back playing adults although the dynamic seems to be the same. I wish they changed it up and let Book be the pursuer. I like the horror elements and we don't get enough of those but I don't know about this one.

Love You Teacher - The first half of this trailer had me. I love Perth and he's playing a grown up so I was sold. And then it happened. And I don't know how I feel about any of it.

MU-TE-LUV - I guess we're getting this and not OurSkyy3. Will watch the queers and the rest we'll see.

Cat for Cash - This is just rude. Do they know that cats are my ultimate weakness? I can't watch all these shows, but a show with talking cats? multiple of them?? C'mon. I'm not even gonna pretend to be torn about this one. I will be watching.

Girl Rules - So, Only Friends but make it sapphic. I'm sad to say, I'll probably pass on this one.

Boys In Love - PAPANG!!! The rumours were true and he's paired with Pod in this. All I saw in this trailer was that and the dimples. Who is that kid? Cause he's adorable. This is the obligatory high-school bl, it looks soft and fluffy. Might check it out.

My Magic Prophecy - I will be skipping this one.

A Dog and a Plane - What a mess of a trailer. But do I care? Not even a little. It's TayNew so I'll be watching with bells on.

Me and Thee - This show will be the true test of how shallow I can get. Will I start a show because Est was wearing glasses in the trailer? Only future me will know. Look, PondPhuwin can play, we know this, but I don't know if I want another show with them so soon. At least they're playing different roles, so there's that.

Wu - Who was saying this wasn't bl? Did you not see the golden thread? And the fate talk? And the looks? And well, everything? It's a bl. I don't know about this one mostly because I don't know the actors. Although tumblr is doing its job well and I'm this close to binging the frenemies show so maybe I'll reevaluate.

Memoir of Rati - I am so easy, it's embarrassing honestly. They so pretty, the scenery is so pretty, historical bl. Sold!

Ticket To Heaven - So many flashbacks to catholic school. It looks good, which doesn't surprise considering it's Aof. I'm glad GeminiFourth are back playing more serious roles. I am really intrigued by this one but also don't trust it completely for some reason. I don't know yet.

Yeah, I'm a sucker. I will be watching most of the first episodes of this line up in like a year when they actually get made. Probably not gonna stick with a lot of them but we'll see. As it's becoming obvious, I'm easy.

Also just a fun fact I guess, and as @lurkingshan as said here, with these shows, 4 couples will hit 5 series as a pair. OffGun, FirstKhao, ForceBook and EarthMix, even though that last one I'm counting Ossan's Love which is also not released yet.

And another thing, of the Gmmtv 2024 QL shows, 7 have yet to premiere. Thame Po, will premiere December 13 but the other six don't have dates yet. They are : My Golden Blood, Ossan's Love, The Ex-Morning, Us, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist and Revamp. So yeah, we're not gonna see any of these new shows anytime soon. Although I'm putting my money on the OffGun series being one of the first to premiere in this line up.

All the trailers and posters for gmmtv2025 can be found here.

[abadsmile]

Well, I know I’m bit late but here again an another analysis on Makoto ! This time, it’s a short one so I’ll put here, just below, enjoy ! If some people wants to put it on the Danganronpa reddit, all they have to do is ask me, maybe I would do it myself but I don’t think so. Here’s my gift for the anniversary !

Japan Society and Makoto Naegi

Through Makoto, we could see a critic of the Japanese society. Indeed, as we know the Japanese society is very repressive against people that want to differentiate from the ordinary folks. Japan is an extreme collectivist country that put the common good above the individualism of its citizens. While it has its great advantages, it also comes with a cost which is the repression of the individual.

This repression of the individual leads to the conformity of the society where being normal or ordinary is good. Any attempts so as to try to be out of the norm are viewed as bad, inadequate and inappropriate as it’s not the good thing to do. There exist a moral superiority which is still present in Japan. To put the common good above anyone else is what is taught from the beginning of the life of the Japanese people. The education do all in order for children to conform and to take the road of normalcy.

It’s easily observable when someone quit the enterprise he worked with to work with another. Much people have difficulties to exit their company and it’s viewed in a bad light to do so because you « betrayed » the company and you aren’t loyal to your former company.

Effectively, loyalty is also a key quality in Japan. But their is also the fact that Japan had one of the highest suicide rate estimated at 24.90% per 100 000 habitants in 2009-2010 which was already high before but coupled with the arrive of its worse recession, explains us how stressfully and tough it was.

We have also the phenomena of Gyaru or Hikikomori which show a will to break that conformity and to rebel against this society that restrain its citizens’ ego.

Now that have put a relatively basic context, I can use that context for Makoto. I think, and it’s pretty obvious, that Danganronpa at least for his two first games, is a critic of the Japanese society, especially THH where much characters have problems that concern Japan society. It’s fairly observable with Makoto in the prologue. He presents himself as an ordinary person which is for the moment, a basic description that many main protagonist slice of life character describe themselves. But there is something more in Makoto’s description of himself. Throughout his presentation, he insists on how ordinary he is and how he is so unremarkable that he is more average than the average guy. Do you see where I’m going ? Makoto Naegi in the prologue, is a perfect representation of the ideal of the Japanese citizen in Japanese society! He is normal, polite and loyal but especially normal. Like said before concerning the Japan society, normalcy is viewed as a great quality which is what ironically Makoto describes himself to be. Not to a normal degree but in an extreme degree. He fits all the case. Even if he said that he is more optimistic than the other people, that optimism isn’t shown at all in the 1st chapter except for one time which serves to highlight that his optimism does exist. He is also humble.

Moreover, like said before he has accepted that normalcy, it’s who he is. The fact that he has accepted that only confirms what has been told before. While there is some truth in what he said about himself some aren’t totally true but I’ve already analyzed this so I won’t do it here. Notice that he hasn’t talked about his luck at all, which seems to be suppressed in order for his description to fit the ideal of the Japanese society.

But throughout the story, we see different characteristics of Makoto, even in Chapter 1 where many aspects of his personality is shown whether be bad or good. Those aspects deviate from what’s described initially from Makoto. His lack of rationality, his more aggressive, impulsive side, anxiety and self-depreciation but also his lack of confidence in himself which makes him have a skewed view on his action that he considers as normal but aren’t really normal or ordinary. We can suspect that he has that sort of view because of the impact of the Japan society which restrained the flourishment of his personality, his ego.

As we progress in the story, Makoto becomes more confident, and takes a major role for the cast to survive during the trials. Not only that but his optimism nature is much more present compared to the first chapter. It illustrates a contrast between what he was supposed to be and what he describes himself to be and what he is in reality in THH. He was supposed to be a normal person, the ideal of Japan society. So to be average, discreet and shy is what he should have been but it’s the contrary that was shown to us. Not only his presence becomes pivotal to the plot but his impulsiveness, intelligence, confidence, luck and optimism but also his will to honor the death of his friends, makes him extraordinary. All of what he thought that he was, was in fact not totally true. And everything comes to a grand final where he becomes the ultimate hope, a talent beyond others ultimates, a talent extraordinary. What he thought he was, was just more than the fragments of his true self.

But what was the thing that allowed him to break from his chains ? The killing game itself. Indeed it’s this killing game that enabled him to become what he becomes in Chapter 6. The killing game is what’s break society, here the Japanese society. HPA becoming a symbol of despair is not only important for the narrative but also outside of it as HPA represents the Japan society itself. Its collapse signify not only the death of society but also the death of normalcy and the end of the imprisonment of the individuality of the person and let the true desires of people exist. Secrets, money, close people, betrayal. All of these are use as a tool to show their real persona.

In a way, Makoto didn’t change or develop during the game. Quite the contrary, he was freed from society and was allowed to show his true self. Everything, he stored, all his aspects of him, become unlocked in this killing game who reveals the true nature of everyone. So narratively, we could say that he did change and become more confident but if we adopt another angle, it was more a release of what he truly was.

[k4marina]

— vi. Secrets and the Moon || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: While things settle down secrets are unveiled and you and Daenerys have a conversation about the moon.

warnings: slight mentions of violence/death, grammar most likely, ngl it's a pretty tame chapter.

a/n: all dialouge in italics is Valyrian

series masterlist

5.2k wrd count

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif is mine]

The walls of scrolls and ancient texts nearly reached the top of the ceiling. The smell of wax and parchment lingered in the room. Sunlight poured down from the skylight window. I’d never seen the room before, not on any website or during the tour of the castle. We were practically underground, in a more older portion of Dragonstone that was most likely withered away in the future. Diamond-patterned shelves filled with scrolls lined the walls on each side with a set of ladders and landings for easy access. A row of tables sat in the middle of the room, a large candle lit chandelier hanging down at the center.

I found the room whilst exploring the lower portions of the castle. It seemed that this was where all the old Valyrian texts were stored after the Targaryen’s arrival and before the Doom. When I’d first entered my head started to spin just off of the sheer size of the place. When I opened the first few scrolls and saw the ancient writing I couldn’t help but thank my parents for teaching me Valyrian Glyphs as well as the modern written form. Suddenly all those hours sitting at the dinner table studying with my father after dinner wasn’t so bad. 

So far my search had been fruitless, every lead coming to a dead end. There was practically nothing about either magic being used to bring people back in time or any mythologies relating to my predicament. There were plenty of other scrolls that taught the reader how they can cast various different spells and pyrokinesis. There were even a few that explained how to hatch stone dragon eggs, without human sacrifices. 

I scoffed, pushing that one scroll in particular to the side. I’m sure Dany could have used this while she was in the Dothraki Sea. 

Hours went by while I poured over all sorts of scrolls, but I found nothing that could explain my sudden appearance or a way to go back. The candles were nearly melted by the time I’d stored away the last scroll and shut the door to the reference room. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t disappointed. I really thought that if I could find any leads about my situation then it would be on Dragonstone. 

I thought that in all of the texts the Targaryens brought over from Valyria at least one would have the answers I was looking for. But I was wrong. 

The Valyrians were the first to bound themselves with dragons using blood magic. During the Valyrian empire’s height magic was an integral part of their culture and history. There’s no telling what they couldn’t do. If only they were good at spreading their knowledge, just far enough to Volantis at least, then maybe the ancient empire wouldn’t be such a mystery. 

Daenerys sat in a closed off patio, staring off into the distance when I arrived for dinner. She was no longer in her signature dark Targaryen garb, but rather in a more simple and modest gown. Her hair was in her signature braids, but not as dramatic as usual. 

“What’s on your mind?” My question pulled her out of her thoughts, only now realizing that I was here.

“Nothing,” she half-smiles. “Just another long day. Come– sit. The food’s still warm.” She motions for me to sit, which I do. “I heard you were busy in the reference library again.” 

I sat, laying the cloth napkin on my lap. “Another bust,” a servant places a plate of food in front of the two of us before leaving. “Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of information, but none that I needed.” 

“Have you looked into other sources?” 

I sighed, reaching for the wine. “I already have. The Seven don’t really believe in whatever my situation is, and the Old Gods are mostly about nature; forest, rivers, stone.” The knife in my hands easily cut through the piece of meat on my plate. 

“What of the Old Gods of Valyria?” 

“They're just deities.” I placed my elbows on the table. “We still worship them beyond the Black Wall, but they also don’t provide any information. They’re just God’s you pray to, to keep traditions for some.” 

“So that’s it?” 

“I still have one person to ask, but she’s already gone to Volantis.” 

“Melisandre?” Daenerys frowns, “but she’s not coming back.” 

I shake my head. “She is. It’s her fate to die in Westeros. When she returns I’ll have to ask her before she takes the plunge.” 

Daenerys nods, slowly, understanding. There’s a moment of silence, the two of us busy eating before Daenerys asks me the important question that’d been lingering in the air since my arrival. 

“What will you do if you can’t go back?” 

I sit still, but then shrug. “Stay here, I guess. Don’t have any other option, do I?” I look away from her, staring off into the distance, the night sky glimmering. No matter how many times I see the stars, I’m always mesmerized. You can’t get a view like this in the modern world, the light pollution clouding the beautiful night sky. 

“I’ll probably explore around a bit.” 

“You won’t get married?” 

I paused, caught off guard. “I.. I don’t know.” I turned back to her. “I never thought of anything like that.” 

“Did you fancy anyone from your time?” 

“No,” I thought back. “Sure, I had a few crushes here and there, a boyfriend once, but nothing when I entered University, I was too focused on my studies than the opposite sex.” 

“Why? Are you trying to marry me off to some Lord to help your claim?” I teased. 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m only asking. If you do end up staying here then I don’t want you to be alone.” 

“But I’m not alone.” I said. “I have you.” 

She smiled. “I know that. What I mean is that I want you to have someone close to you. Someone to grow old with and perhaps a few children with.” 

I mulled over her words. “We’ll see. But my main goal is to get you on that throne first.” 

“Would that be before or after we join the Army of the Dead?” She jests. 

“Boo, bad joke.” I smiled. 

The rest of our night went smoothly, the two of us opting to not talk about war plans or the futures but rather of our childhoods. She told me stories about growing up in Essos, one that wasn't in any textbook and I told her about the modern world. I still remember telling her about modern transportation and technology, her jaw smacking the ground. 

We dined till the late hours of the night, only calling a night after we’d drank all the wine in the room. My body slightly buzzed, the alcohol flowing through me. Something that I learned when I arrived here was that alcohol was less potent compared to the future. So while everyone else could get drunk with a few glasses, I was just lightly buzzed. 

But that buzz didn’t last long. I was immediately sobered when I saw that the door to my chambers was left open. I stared at the door, silently listening for any movements. I vividly remembered closing my door in the morning. Maybe it was an assassin? But that wouldn’t make any sense. If an assassin was hired he’d go straight for Daenerys, not me.

Carefully, I stepped closer to the door, trying to not make a sound and catch the intruder's attention. I peeked through the gap between the wall and door, but saw nothing. No man dressed in robes waiting for me with a knife in my hand. I slowly pushed the door open, thankful that it didn’t creek. 

The receiving room was empty, nothing out of its place. The bedroom was also, oddly, empty. I scanned the room for anything missing or changed, but the room was just as I had left it this morning. The only room that was left was the study. The door was slightly ajar and a faith wrestling could be heard. I took in a deep breath and pushed it open, expecting to see some man, but instead being met with a child. 

The kid, possibly around ten years old, rummaged through my drawers. She wore a simple, yet tethered, dress, her long hair tied back. Her hands stopped moving and her body stiffened as she’d been caught. I stared in disbelief, what the hell is this kid doing?

“What are you looking for?” My voice came out more rough than it should have, but I couldn’t care. Was this kid really going through my things? 

She didn’t reply, her eyes flickering back to the door behind me. I slammed the door shut, fully blocking any way out and asked again. “What are you doing?” 

She still didn’t reply, shaking in fear as if I’d kill her on the spot. She hid her hands behind her dress. I marched closer to her and she stepped back, her back almost hitting the wall. I reached out, grabbing her hands, surprising her. 

Scrolls that I’d written were clutched in her grasp, and in the small pockets of her dress. They ranged from menial things like day to day updates from either the Unsullied or Dothraki to sensitive subjects like Yara Greyjoy and her fleet's location or warplanes to take King’s Landing. 

I looked back at the child who seemed to be scared out of her mind, tears brimming her eyes. It was clear someone put her up to this. No child in their right mind would travel all the way up into the castle, know where my room and study were, and rummage through my stuff.

“Who set you up to this?” I lowered my tone, trying to seem less frightening. The child's eyes were a light gray with hints of lavender. Her hair was a light blonde and freckles danced around her face. By the looks of it she was either a Dragonseed or the descendant of one. 

“I’m not mad,” this time I tried in Valyrian. “I just want to know who told you to do this.” 

Her exterior flattered for a moment, but it wasn’t enough to calm her nerves. I sighed, crouching down so that I was eye level to her. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. And I won’t let anyone hurt you or your family. All you have to do is tell me who told you to do this.” 

She hesitates, and my grip on her hand loosen. I absentmindedly rubbed small circles around her wrists as a way to calm her. 

“The..” she stopped, scared that someone would hear, but I gave her hand a light squeeze, reassuring her. “The bald man. He said if I found him a special letter then he’ll bring me to my mother and father.” 

The bald man? Does she mean THE bald man?

“Do you mean the bald man that is with Queen Daenerys?” 

She nods. 

Fucking snake. 

She seems to notice that shift in my mood and quivers. I catch myself before I worsen my mood. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Alana.” 

I smiled, “what a beautiful name.” I stood up, reaching into the middle drawer that she didn’t go through and grabbed a tied handkerchief. I knelt down next to her and untied it revealing a few cookies and bit’s of chocolate. Her eyes lit up and she looked between the sweet treats and me.

“Here, you can have all of this, if you promise to not say a word, okay? You can’t tell anyone that I saw you tonight, especially the bald man.” 

She nods her head, eager to eat the cookies. 

“But, you have to do one teeny-tiny thing for me.” She looks up at me with her doe eyes. “You have to tell the Queen what you told me.” 

Panic, once again, sets in and she rapidly shakes her head. “No, she’ll-” 

“She won’t do anything,” I place my hand on her shoulder. “Her Grace doesn’t hurt children. She’ll protect you from the bald man. Both her and her dragons.” 

It took some convincing but she’d finally agreed. I placed her on my bed with the snacks and lit a few candles. I called for an Unsullied guard to go get Daenerys while I waited with her. 

“You said that the bald man would take you to your parents, where did they go?” 

She chews on a piece of chocolate and swallows. “They were taken by the man with the stag. He was bald too. He also had a daughter.” 

Stag, bald, and had a daughter. 

“Stannis.” I hummed. Knowing him, I’m sure that he’d executed them. Most of the villagers on the island are some form of Dragonseeds, bastards of the Targaryens and most definitely still loyal to them. It’s most likely that Alana’s parents had refused to bow to either Robert or to serve Stannis during his stint on Dragonstone and were killed as a result. 

The doors to my room opened and Daenerys, who was dressed in a robe and looked to have been pulled out of bed, walked in. “Did something happen?”  

I nod and stand up. Alana peeks at Daenerys from behind me, but quickly hides when they make eye contact. 

“I found her going through my things. Apparently, a friend of ours sent her to find something.” 

Daenerys looks between me and the little girl. “Who?” 

I turned back to Alana. “Sweetheart, why don’t you tell Her Grace what you told me, don’t worry, she won’t be mad at you.” 

The little girl holds her hands closer to her. “The bald man. He told me to look through the ladies' things.” 

“The bald man?” Daenerys repeats. She turns back to me. “Varys?” 

I nodded. “Seems like he’s interested in what I’ve been up to.”

Anger quickly takes over Daenerys and she turns to march down to his chambers. I grab her arm, “no wait.” 

“Wait?” She scoffed. “Varys is spying on my own people. He’s using children to do his dirty work and you want me to wait?” 

“Yes, I do. Dany, we can’t nail him yet.” 

She frowned. “Then what? We pretend that nothing’s happened?” 

“That’s exactly what we do. He doesn't know what we know now, we can use that to our advantage.” 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Let him believe what he wants to. All we have to do is feed him the information that we want and take the information we need from him.” 

“And you are sure this will work?” 

I nodded. “Let the spider think that he’s spun his web, it’s only a matter of time before he gets too confident and makes a mistake.”

––

The next morning, after my morning sparring practice and breakfast with Daenerys, I was called down to the caves by Jon Snow. He and his men had made considerable progress mining the Dragonglass. Crates of the volcanic glass were placed around the path leading to the caves. The sound of pickaxes and chisels hammering against the cave walls echoed out from the cave entrance. 

Jon Snow stood by a few crates of what I assumed was freshly mined Dragonglass. He wore his usual attire; dark tunic underneath his black and brown leather armor, long black leather gloves and matching boots with dark trousers that had some wear and tear. He’d foregone his fur cloak and armored breastplate with House Stark sigil for the sake of practicality. 

Ser Davos, who stood in front of Jon, nodded my ways. He turned as I stepped closer, and their previous conversation came to a halt. 

“My Lady, thank you for coming.” 

I glanced around us. “You and your men seem to be making quite a bit of progress.” 

Jon nods, “we’re grateful that you and Queen Daenerys have allowed us to mine all of the Dragonglass.” 

“That’s not why you called for me is it?” 

“No.” He motions for me to follow him. We walk around a few crates, coming to a stop in front of a covered wagon, hidden from everyone. 

“We found these, deep in the caves. I’ve told my men who first found them to keep quiet about it.” 

Ser Davos opens the wagon’s doors and removes the cloth over the objects revealing a cluster of dulled dragon eggs. My eyes widened and I turned to Jon who also had the same shock written all over his face. 

“Is this all you’ve found?” 

“So far. We found these near the end of the cave before it split off into other directions.” 

I slowly nod, half focused on his words. My eyes ran over the eggs, five to be exact, all of them covered in dirt and stone. There were two lighter colored eggs, a white-gray and a pastel pink-purple. The other three were a dark navy blue, a dark green, and a pure black egg. I reached out and carefully grabbed the green egg, wiping away the dirt and debris the best I could. It left off a gold almost iridescent shimmer in the sun. The eggs themselves were hard, the outside covered in a scaled pattern. I gently turned the egg over in my hands, running my fingers over the surface.

I took in a deep breath, stunned. 

After Daenerys’ death, Dragonstone was handed off to The Crown. Over the decades, the castle had been turned into somewhat of a vacation home for the Royal Family. The Velaryon’s had contested the decision for many years, claiming that the castle was the last remnants of the Targaryen and of Valyria and that it should be preserved and handed to them as they were the closest to the extinct house. But in reality, they were more interested in exploring the castle than honoring it. 

They’d found Dragonegg’s littered all over the island, nestled away in the string of cave networks. Dragon bones and skulls dating back to the dragons the Targaryens first brought to the islands were also found in caves in the island's volcanic mountains. By the time the eggs were found they’d been completely fossilized and turned to stone. Taking inspiration from Daenerys, the Velaryons tried to hatch the dragons in secret, but lacked the (for a lack of better words) magic that the Targaryens held. 

But this, this was something else. 

I turned to Jon, who’d been watching me, “thank you.” He slightly bows his head, surprised by my sincerity. “Did you find anything else?”

“No, My Lady, that’s all we’ve run across.” 

I pressed my lips and nods, looking back down at the eggs. “Alright. Keep mining, but don’t go too deep.” I set the dragon egg back down, “now help me get these to Daenerys.” 

––

The five eggs, now properly cleaned of any dirt, sat in a chest between Daenerys and I. Her eyes stayed glued to the eggs as Jon recounted what he’d told me. But, like me, her focus was entirely on the eggs. She dismisses him, leaving the two of us. Silence hangs in the air for many moments, neither of us knowing what to say.

“Did you know that there were eggs on the island?” She finally asks. 

“I did,” I sat back, eyes flickering between the chest and her. “But I didn’t know where exactly they were. I just never knew that they were just.. right there.”

She hums. “They look like they’re turned to stone.” 

“We can still bring them back.” 

“Where would we keep them?” 

I shrugged. “I’m sure there's a few warming brazier’s laying around. We can chuck them in there while we deal with the Night King.” 

She looks up at me, “are you sure we can hatch them?” 

“Yeah, why not? Just need some good-old fashioned Valyrian blood magic.” 

Daenerys chuckles. “Alright, I’ll tell the servants to light a few warmers.” 

She stands from her seat, walking over and grabbing the dark blue dragon egg, turning it over in her hands. 

“How many of these are there?” She muttered. 

“Plenty,” I replied, standing up myself. “The entire island is littered with them.” 

“What?” 

I pour a glass of wine. “The caves under the island are almost littered with them. Some of them are in the caves up in the mountains.” 

I motioned her towards the window that faced mountains. “Jaehaerys’ dragon, Vermithor, used to dwell in a cave on that mountain. It’s said that he laid a clutch of eggs in there, but by the time we found them they were completely stone.” 

Daenerys steps forwards and peers out the window to the large mountain in the distance. “If the Dragonegg’s were here all along, then why did they die out?” 

I shrugged “Hell if I know.” I take a sip of the wine, leaning on the windowsill. “It’s rumored that after Rhaenyra’s death that the Targaryen's love and bond with the dragons was bruised, I guess you can say. People believe that the closer the dragons are to their riders, the stronger the magic. But after a civil war where the dragons pitted against each other and other riders, I guess the magic fizzled out.” 

“Well, that’s until you came around,” I motioned towards Dany with my glass. 

She stared off to where Vermithor’s cave was. “So many mistakes,” she muttered. “They made so many mistakes and it cost our house everything.”

“But you won’t do the same thing.” I said. 

She turned to me, determined. “No, I won’t.” 

––

The walls are jagged and raw, a clear contrast to the smooth walls of the castle. It’s dim, squinting my eyes to try and adjust to the lack of light. My footsteps echoed off of the walls. 

One, two, three, four… and five.

He lay on the cold ground on top of a sad looking chunk of hay that looked as if it was on its last legs. He’s wearing the same trousers and dirty tunic as he was when he was brought here. His chest has a slight rise and fall indicating he’s alive. His face caked in blood and dirt, making me grimace. 

“Wake up.” 

He doesn’t move, eyes still closed. Annoyed, I reach over to a bucket on the side of the entrance of his cell, grabbing a cup full of water. I splashed it on him through the cell doors. 

“I said, wake up.” 

He gasps, coughing and sits up straight, surprised. His head snaps over in my direction, eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t make any effort to move out of the shadows and into the dim light. 

“You bitch!” 

I drag a chair over in front of the cell bars, crossing my legs as I sit. “That’s no way to address a Lady.” 

He scoffs. “Y’er the furthest thing from a Lady,” he licks his chapped lips. “But you’ve got a pretty face like one. Maybe once your Dragon Queen agrees to my offer I’ll fuck you both” 

I narrow my eyes, but bite my tongue. “And you really think that she’ll take you as, what did you say? A King?”

“I am a King!” He growls. 

“Any man who must say ‘I am the King’ is no true King.” I quote Tywin Lannister. 

“I am the King of Salt and Rock.” He brings his face closer to me into the light. 

“Your niece and nephew would argue otherwise.” I glare down at Euron. 

“That bitch and her cock-less brother? They’re nothing. I’ll kill them just like I killed their father.” 

“That ‘bitch’ is on her way to reclaim the Iron Islands, and her ‘cock-less brother’ handed you your own ass, landing you here, in a dungeon.” 

“She won’t make it.” He double downs. “The Ironborn don't follow women.” 

“We’ll see.” I lean in closer, eyeing him through the bars. “It’s a new dawn. Two Queens are fighting for the Iron Throne, most of Westeros’ noble houses are led by women. I think the Iron Islands won’t mind a woman leading them.” 

Euron pushes himself against the wall. “Won’t last long. They’ll get tired of her and crave for their true king.” 

I leaned forwards. “That awfully confident of you considering your predicament. It’s almost like you have something under your sleeve.” His demeanor shifts, a wave of arrogance and cockiness falling over him. 

He smirks. “Y’wanna know? Hm?” He runs his beady eyes down my figure and I tried not to shiver out of disgust. “Why don’t you do me a favor and I’ll tell you.” 

“Really?” I played along. “And why would I do that? Not to be too mean, but you don’t seem to be the type to be strategic, just dumb luck.” 

His eye twitches at my comment. He leans forwards, a crazed look in his eyes, as if he’d just hit the jackpot. “Cause it’s the one thing that will make your dragons mine.” 

Gotcha. 

“Let me guess, a Dragonbinder?” 

His face falls, shocked that I already knew about his “trump card” that not even Cersei knew about. His mouth falls open, but no words come out. 

“What? Cat got your tongue? You were pretty chatty before, what happened?” 

He recovers well, becoming more hostile. “Knowing about it won’t change a thing. I’ll get out of here and when I do, I’ll kill you and everyone in this fucking castle and feed you to your own fucking dragons!” 

I stare at him momentarily before smiling. “I’ll count on it.” I stand, getting ready to leave. “You’ve lost, Euron. I look forward to your coming execution. Sleep well till then.” 

––

“Are you sure?” Daenerys asks, tethering between skepticism and fear.

I nodded. “I didn’t believe it either. From what I had heard it was purely a rumor, but he just confirmed for me.”

“A Dragonbinder?” Missandei raised a brow. “I don’t seem to be familiar with that item.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” I said. “It’s something like an ancient relic of Old Valyria. It’s a horn made of an enormous dragonbone and is six feet long. It’s said that whoever blows into it will have the power to control dragons, but I’ve never seen it before nor have I known anyone to have ever seen it, let alone have it in their possession.”

“And you believe Euron is hiding it somewhere?” Varys asks, hand folded in his lap.

“It’s alleged when he went to claim the Seastone Chair he presented the horn to impress his followers. How much of it is true is beyond me, but I think this is something we should keep a close eye on.”

“Has it ever been used?” Dany asks. 

“I don’t know. I’ve checked the reference library and found nothing.” 

“So the horn’s a sham?” Varys says. 

“We don’t know that,” I frowned. “A threat is a threat, regardless if it’s been documented or not.” I turned back to Dany. “Look, I’m telling you all I know. There’s possibly a Dragonbinder out there and it could turn your children against you.” 

Daenerys sighs, deep in thought. On one hand this could be a plausible threat. History has proven that anything that remains from Valyria could have the power to cause tremendous change while on the other hand, no one really knows if it exists and if it’s an actual threat to anyone. 

“If what you say is the truth then that means Euron and his men have a powerful weapon against me and my children. However, no one, but one man, knows where it is and we don’t know if it’s an actual threat or not. For now, we focus on the task at hand, Euron and the Dragonbinder can wait.” 

I nod, understanding. “Whatever you say, Your Grace.” 

––

The stars shone bright in the night sky, not a cloud in sight. The moon glimmered brightly, a perfect reflection in the deep ocean. It was one of those nights where everything was still, as if time had stopped. There was no sound, no wind, nothing, just pure silence. 

I took in a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and leaned against the stone railing. My eyes trailed from the sky to the ocean, the beach, and then the cave entrance. Wagons and crates were left around along with what looked to be mining equipment. It wouldn’t be long until all of the Dragonglass would be mined away and then we’ll be marching North to face off against the Night King. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting you,” a voice called from behind. I turned around to see Daenerys walking closer to me. 

“No, you’re not.” I smiled. “It’s pretty late, shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

“I could ask you the same.” 

I turned back to stare off in front of me, “couldn’t sleep. Thought I would be able to after some fresh air, but the sleepiness hasn’t kicked in yet.” 

She comes to stand besides me, a comfortable silence falling over us. I looked back down at the cave entrance. 

“Since I’ve came here I've been debating whether the Gods are cruel or kind.” I let out a sigh. “On one hand, they’ve taken me from my friends, family, my home. The other, I’ve been given the opportunity to rewrite history, and right the wrongs of mankind.” I let out a humorless laugh and turned towards Dany. “But regardless of what’s happened, I’m glad I’m here to help you and make sure you don’t go through this alone.” 

She reached over to grasp my hand, reassuringly. I smiled, “whatever happens from here on out, I want you to know that. I love you, sister.”

Tears brimmed her eyes and she smiled. “I love you too. I pray that when this is over you can find a way back to your family.” 

“But you’d be all alone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She smiled bittersweet. “I’ve lost my family, I know the pain. I can’t have you going through that.” 

I swallowed thickly, looking up and blinked away my tears. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the moon, above. 

I cleared my throat, “when I was a child, I visited my Ñāma, um my Grandmother, in Volantis. One night, when the sky was like this she told me a story about two sisters. The younger one was very sick and couldn’t be out during the day so she and her elder sister would go out at night, making sure not to go too far off from home. And every night, under the shade of a large tree, the elder sister would sing a lullaby to her little sister about the moon. And every night, the younger sister would say ‘The sun is for everyone, but we have the moon,’ and she’d fall asleep with a smile. One night, just like any other, the two sisters go out and the eldest sings a lullaby, except this time, the younger one never opens her eyes and passes in her sleep. And for the rest of her life, the eldest sister, before going to bed, would sing a lullaby to the moon, hoping it would reach her sister, because they always had the moon.” 

At this point tears were streaming down both of our faces, and I tried my best not to start crying. “Daenerys, wherever we are, we’ll always have the moon.” 

We both burst into tears, pulling each other into a tight embrace, crying in each other's arms under the glimmering moon.

so i've recently composed a "soundtrack" for this series (i put soundtrack in "" bc it's more like a medley) i'm thinking abt working on it while i work on this series, but lmk if u all want to hear it when it's complete or when i've given up.

ALSO!! since we're approaching the height of series (and the end) what should my next game of thrones/asoiaf series be?

TAGLIST:

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat

[viaviavie]

Ok sorry I caught the brain worms and now I have to share them with you. I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes and what not. I’m not a writer, I strongly prefer reading, and English is my second language. So feel free to ignore my ramblings.

So. Your “A painted white rose, still so red” fic. Wonderful thing. Love that Ace was dreaming about all of the horrors that would happen to him and his friends. And Yuu the one that is trapped in a time loop doomed to repeat every overbolt until they survive / make sure everyone else gets out unscathed.

That’s all well and good but… Ace and Yuu aren’t the only ones that have to face each overbolt.

Deuce always knew he wasn’t the smartest academically. Seven he’s barely passing his exams with the help of his house warden. But he isn’t dense enough to not notice his best friends weird behaviors.

He has caught Ace multiple times pulling the Prefect away from the group to talk to them in private. That in and of itself wouldn’t be so weird if they didn’t insist on him taking Grim for a minute while they talked. The others brushed this off but for some reason it stuck with Deuce.

This proved useful as during a lecture one of their classmates decided to mess around and almost blow up the classroom. Due to Ace and the Prefects quick thinking a majority of the damage was prevented.

Deuce always knew he wasn’t as smart as the Prefect or as annoyingly cunning as Ace. That didn’t keep him from being impressed by how prepared his friends seemed whenever disaster struck. It’s almost as if they knew it was going to happen.

He really starts to suspect something was up once the Prefect sent him an SOS in the middle of winter break. Once he met up with Ace to return to NRC to check up on them Ace was beside himself. Constantly checking his phone for any updates or always mumbling something about Snakes for some reason. Whenever Deuce tried to ask him what’s wrong or what Ace meant by that he’d always get waved off and or ignored.

When they finally, finally made it back to NRC and found the Prefect chilling with the Octavinelle Trio and the Scarabia dorm Deuce was confused. Ace on the other hand pushed past the crowd of people without another thought, on the way glaring at the Vice-House Warden of Scarabia.

(Why would Ace glare at someone he’s never even met before?) Deuce doesn’t need to wait long for an explanation to come, because it appears in the form of two familiar eals that explain that surprise, surprise another overbolt happened. (But how would Ace know that?)

Deuce knows what it’s like to have secrets you would rather not share with anyone. Really he understands. After all he also has things he only shares with his best friends if at all. But as he watches Ace and the Prefect reunite after all the stress of the past week he can’t help but feel hurt as he realizes that his best friends don’t trust him enough to keep their secret.

in reference to this post

ugh you just smashed my heart with an anvil— i love how it aches :)

(but i loved your rambling and your english was great! do drop by with those ramblings of your sometime, i adore it :DDDD )

Poor Deuce. A part of Ace thinks that Deuce is lucky that he isn't plagued with such nightmares, but never stops to consider that his best friend has his own inner turmoil. Ace, Deuce, the Prefect— they were always supposed to be a trio. And yet, this friendship has grown into a triangle, and Deuce sits at a point where his two friends had grown further and further away.

This weird sense of distant doesn't catch his eye in every loop. When Deuce feels out of place, however, it threatens to make him angry. There were certainly times when he has wanted to fight Ace for an answer, especially when he knows when Ace is lying straight to his face when the redhead was clearly bothered. Deuce never exactly confronts you, though. The Prefect has grown so tired of reacting and making mistakes to the point that you're just going through the motions sometimes.

To twist the knife even further, Ace and the Prefect never communicate about what is being foreseen in most loops until it's too late. Now, you have three different people tugging and pulling at one another to avoid the worst possible endings. Ace, who tries to prevent those Bad Ends from happening. The Prefect, who is still searching for more options and routes to take to survive the next overblot. And then there's Deuce, who cannot see ahead of the script and is forced to play along with the messes that Ace and the Prefect make. Ace would never confide in Deuce because he won't consider the idea that someone will believe in his crazy story. The Prefect can never confide in Deuce because it hurts to see him try to find a solution.

Nonetheless, no matter how hurt Deuce gets, his care for his best friends never change. Even when it ended with him hurt or dead in some loops, Deuce trusts both of you, even when the truth is something he would never hear.

That being said, I still think about the scene that I cut from the original. Contrary to what Ace thought, Deuce would have definitely trusted that Ace was telling the truth. That was why Deuce breaks out two blastcycles and was more than willing to help row a boat to get the Prefect as far away from the campus as possible during the events of book 7. You could only imagine how heartbroken Prefect was to reawaken back in that coffin, knowing that all the love that Deuce and Ace poured into you was now lost.

The Prefect has watched Ace and Deuce care for you for over a hundred loops now. There are time loops where the Prefect pushes aside those failures and puts up that smile as the process repeats itself again. There are also those time loops where the Prefect cries and cannot explain why when Ace and Deuce come to the rescue in the mines.

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

I've only watched the first 5 episodes and I'm obsessed! I am convinced that there is no part Jesse Lee Soffer can play that I won't love. I went to binge on some content for him and couldn't find anything (Big sad). So, I had to make sure he had at least one story. I'm still learning his character so this is probably not perfect.

Wes Mitchell Key 

You didn’t know what the hell you were thinking. The relationship wasn’t new but had been long since the beginning. Now you were standing in front of his apartment door, one travel-on bag thrown over your shoulder. You had jet lag from the flight all you wanted was a hot shower and any flat surface to sleep on.  

But now standing here anxiety twisted in your stomach clawing its way up your throat. You reached in your pocket pulling out a key. It felt heavy as lead in your palm and caught the light in the shine of the new metal. You had never used it before and half wondered if it would even really work in the lock. 

You and Wes had been officially together for eight months after steadily talking for three. It didn’t take a genius to know that Wes had trust issues. He didn’t talk about his childhood much, but the random snit bits that he had shared you knew it had been on the rougher side. He was slow to trust and despite his apparent mastery at reading suspects needed blunt direct talks to know where he stood in his personal relationships. 

You two hadn’t seen each other in person more than a handful of times. It had forced a strong foundation built on communication and genuinely enjoying the other company as opposed to falling into bed together because it was easy and lonely. Wes had openly admitted that he tended to do that in a lot of his previous relationships because he “wasn’t good alone”.  

It had been a major red flag and forcing you to keep the pace slow. He was charming, funny, and incredibly good looking and you didn’t want to get your heartbroken.

It didn’t stop you from falling in love with him.

Neither of you had uttered those words yet. Wes didn’t seem like the type to make that proclamation without meaning it and you didn’t want to back him into a corner. 

The feeling of him keeping parts of his life separate from you had caused more than one fight. It always happened in the same pattern. You would bring it up, he would acknowledge that he did it and promise to try harder to be more open. For a while, he would and it would get better but he always seemed to hide behind that last layer of protection. His reflex to protect himself at any cost. You loved him and tried to be patient with what he was working through but the pattern was incredibly frustrating.  

The last one had stuck pretty well. When he came for a week's visit, he had given you his key. He hadn’t said it but you knew it was his way of showing how much he trusted you. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had been an empty attempt to appease you. After all who would go across the country to actually use the key?  

You had only been to his apartment in Budapest once and he came to see you three times. When you met him, you didn’t even have a passport. While seeing each other hadn’t been frequent, the sex was always absolutely mind-blowing. 

Now you felt like quite the hypocrite as you had been hiding your own struggles from him. Things had gotten so bad, so overwhelming at home that you had packed a bag and paid for a flight on a whim. You couldn’t even remember if you packed underwear. Your brain had been like watching static on a TV and it was only halfway through the flight that you remembered that Wes wasn’t even home. He was currently in the Netherlands.  

You felt a gaze fall heavy on you. You look over your shoulder to see a man watching you stand in front of the door holding a key and making no attempt to open it for way longer than necessary. You scrabbled to put the key in the lock and let out a grateful yet slightly surprised breath of relief as the key twisted in the lock butter smooth. 

A glance back showed the man's suspicions seemed settled as he headed down the hall. Then you remembered the alarm and rushed in to type in the password letting your bag carelessly fall to the ground with a heavy thunk. You watch in anticipation after typing the code in. Wes would be the type to constantly change his code but the light turned blissfully green.  

You turned around to see the almost obsessively neat living room. It had a modern feel but it felt only half lived in like Wes hadn’t completely moved in even though he had been living there for over a year now. It looked exactly the same as when you had been there last. The only difference is the lack of pillows and blankets thrown on and over the couches. It was clear that he had done that for your comfort when you had been staying there.  

You stared blankly into the space. Should you call Wes to let him know you have invaded his home? A yawn forced itself from you and your exhaustion came over you in another harsh demanding wave. It had been over a 12-hour flight and you hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Thoughts of calling Wes were easily forgotten with the promise of sleep.  

You walk into his room and are washed in the scent of his cologne and aftershave still barely clinging to the enclosed space. It brought a soft comfort to you. A tease of his embrace. You paused thinking about how awful you must smell and all the germs you had no doubt gotten from the shared space of the airport and then the plane. Your fickle mind had you turning on your heel to the shower turning the water hot.  

As you rinsed off you noticed the only product that Wes had was a 3-in-1 body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. You didn’t even have it in you to care as you scrubbed yourself down with it only unconsciously noticing how awful it made your hair feel. You dried off sparing only the bare minimum amount of time towel-drying your mess of tresses before climbing into his bed. You sank into it with a sigh cocooning yourself in his blankets and before you could think twice you were out like a light. 

Wes entered his apartment quietly. Resetting his alarm before heading to the bedroom. He set his bag down gently as he headed to the bed. He sitting beside you brushing the still damp and tangled tresses off your face. You barely moved still deep in sleep. His eyes analyze you worriedly before leaning down and dropping a soft kiss on your forehead. 

Wes had been gathering his things when his phone had chimed alerting him that someone was at his door. He glanced briefly at his phone thinking it might be a person walking too close to his door or a package arriving he had forgotten he ordered. He had done a double-take when he realized it was you. You hadn’t mentioned anything about stopping by.  

He thought maybe it was a surprise visit. It had been a while since you had seen each other in person. The long flight explained why he couldn’t reach you the last few times he had called. He quickly dismissed that notion. You knew he was still in the Netherlands doing a job and he had given you no idea of when he would be back because he hadn’t known himself. If that wasn’t enough there was your slumped posture, hair thrown haphazardly up in a messy bun with thick chunks of hair escaping, only one carry-on bag thrown over your shoulder. He could feel your exhaustion through the screen, not the excitement you usually had when finally getting to see him again. 

He had watched with growing concern as you just stood at his front door with the key in your hand. You stood that way for so long that he thought his video might have frozen. It stung when he realized it was indecision. He had silently willed you to open the door but still you stood unmoving.  

His stomach clenched with guilt. It was his fault that you were hesitating. You had told him you felt like he had a life he didn’t want you to know. That he always had his walls up. He knew the truth and accepted the burden of trying to fix it. He thought he had been doing a good job and that it wasn’t a big deal.  

Watching you fight with yourself if you were truly welcome in his home or if you would be invading it spoke louder than your words ever could. They cut deeper too. Far past the walls that he had spent his life building. He was just about to call you and tell you to go inside when your head whipped backward clearly startled by something. Then you turned back with purpose and put the key in the lock. It didn’t give him the relief he was hoping for. You hadn’t chosen to go in, you had been pushed too. How long would you have stood there without that nudge? 

The flight home was short but it felt long. His mind was in fix-it mode and whirling with what was the right thing to do when he got home. He wanted to talk to you about your relationship. There was nothing more he wanted than you being around. How deeply he cared for you. He wanted to know what that hesitation meant to you about your relationship because he knew what it meant to him. 

Even though Wes desperately wanted that to be the first thing he did. He knew it wasn’t the right one. He needed to find the underlying cause of what would cause you to spontaneously fly across the country. What had happened? And how did it build up that fast? Hadn’t he just talked to you a few days ago? You had been a little quiet but it had been late your time so he hadn’t thought much of it. Had he missed something so major? How long had whatever it was really been going on? 

Wes tried to suppress his worry not wanting to alert the team that you were there until he knew what was going on. He knew an attempt to run when he saw it, he had done it enough himself. When the group had asked if he wanted to get some drink before they had all returned home, he had feigned tiredness. He had beelined for his home. 

Wes smoothed the blankets over you gently, considering his options. He sighed deeply standing up. You looked vulnerable and small twisted in the blankets and curled up into a ball. You were in a deep sleep. You had barely moved since he had walked in. It wasn’t worth waking you up.