#Declaration of Reasonable Doubt

[dlnqnt]

this movie was fun trash but i cannot believe they closed the movie on babby's first book report-style epilogue

[fideidefenswhore]

i think a more realistic timeline is that ‘witnesses’ to precontract came forward may 1536 (maybe late april 1536? the council meetings mentioned) and that percy caught wind of this, either through chapuys or another source, so preempted it by the sending that letter to cromwell. 

[arolesbianism]

If I had the freedom of not knowing there is going to be future new lore stuff added to oni I would do unspeakable things to so many of these guys. Or Id just make them normal guys who just sorta exist. Either or.

[florwons]

NOT ON MY WATCH ⋮ P.SH

SYNOPSIS Sunghoon caught you getting ready for your supposed date, and it was clear he was trying to convince you to reconsider. He tried to dismiss his actions as simply "looking out" for you, but deep down, he couldn't shake the thought that lingered in his mind: why him, not me?

𝓟AIRING brother's-best-friend!sunghoon x fem!reader 𝓖ENRE fluff, friends to lovers (?) 𝓦ARNINGS jealousy, slight bickering / argument-ish? 𝓦ORD COUNT 2K+ ( 2054 words ) 𝓕EI’S 𝓝OTES first sunghoon fic (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) hoon has been taking over and that picture on pinterest fueled this idea in mind … think of this as a thank you for 100+ followers ♡ i truly am grateful and i hope to continue to make much more works for you all !! enjoy & ily >ᴗ<

You heard a gentle knock on your door, followed by a familiar voice asking, “Can I come in?” It was Park Sunghoon, your brother’s best friend. His frequent visits to your house had become routine, and you were used to seeing him almost every day. It felt like he practically lived there, but given his close friendship with your brother, it wasn't surprising.

“No.”

“Come on, please?”

“What’s your excuse for bothering me this time?” you replied, still focused on the mirror in front of you, showing no intention of letting him in.

“Your brother is busy playing games with Jake right now, and they’re being way too loud,” Sunghoon sighed, clearly exasperated. “Mind if I come in to escape them for a bit?”

“I don’t think my brother would appreciate you suddenly disappearing. He might think something’s up,” you replied, still focused on your appearance.

“He’s too busy trying to beat Jake to even notice I’m gone,” Sunghoon said with a faint smile. “Besides, I’d much rather talk to you than listen to them shout at the screen.”

“I’m flattered,” you laughed softly. “Alright, you can come in. Don’t be annoying.”

Sunghoon opened the door, his eyes settling on you as you sat at your desk, touching up your makeup. He raised his eyebrows slightly, leaning against the doorframe, clearly wanting to enter. “What are you getting ready for?” he asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “You look rather pretty.”

“Why, thank you. You’re being nice today,” you replied with a teasing smile. “I’m getting ready for a date.”

“Funny,” he said with a soft chuckle as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge while watching you apply your blush. “What are you really getting ready for? A girls' day out?”

You rolled your eyes and turned to face him. “No, seriously. It’s an actual date,” you insisted, trying to convey sincerity.

“You’re joking,” he said, laughing a little more, but when he saw your serious expression, the laughter faded. “Seriously?”

“Why would I joke about my love life?”

“You seem like the type who would.”

“Oh, don’t start. Remember, I’m the one who let you into my room,” you said, turning back to your mirror.

Sunghoon's smile wavered, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features as his eyes narrowed with mock suspicion. Hearing you say that, he couldn’t help but feel slightly…bothered.

“An actual date, huh? With who?”

“Why should it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not like you’re my brother.”

Sunghoon hesitated, searching for a reason to dismiss your plans. “Does your brother know about this… supposed date?”

“First of all, it’s an actual date, so I don’t know why you’re doubting me,” you replied, crossing your arms defensively. “And secondly, why does he have to know?”

“Oh, so he doesn’t?” Sunghoon crossed his arms, frustration evident in his expression. “I would think you’d be smart enough to talk to your brother about this. Someone should know about this date of yours.”

“Well, now you know,” you replied with a teasing smile. “That should be enough, right?”

“Is that so?” he said firmly. “Then no.”

“What?” You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden declaration.

“You’re not going,” Sunghoon insisted, his voice carrying a hint of jealousy that was impossible to ignore. “Not on my watch.”

You’d always known Sunghoon as your brother's annoying friend, the one who constantly found ways to bicker with you. But instead of the usual smirk he wore, his expression was serious—totally out of the ordinary.

Why was he suddenly acting like this?

“Okay, you’re confusing me,” you said, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to decipher his words. “Why wouldn’t I go?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms tighter, trying to maintain his composure. “Because you told me about your date, right? So I’m saying you shouldn’t go—just offering my opinion,” he said, attempting to mask his jealousy with a casual tone.

You frowned, feeling your frustration build. “Why should I listen to you?”

“So you just want me to stay silent? What if your brother asks me about you, wondering where you’re at, and I lie, and—who knows if you won’t get hurt?”

“Why would I get hurt?” you replied, exasperation creeping into your voice. “You don’t even know my date.”

“Then tell me about him,” Sunghoon pressed, his curiosity tinged with something deeper.

“Why should I tell you?” you asked, your frustration growing. “This isn’t your business.”

“It’s either you tell me about him, or I tell your brother,” Sunghoon replied, his voice firm and unwavering. “You know how protective he can get.”

You sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. A friend of mine set me up with someone. He’s supposed to be nice, and I thought it’d be fun to meet him,” you said, trying to sound casual despite feeling a bit cornered. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“So, you don’t know him?” he asked, his tone filled with skepticism.

“I’ll get to know him then.”

“No, that sounds so...unsafe!” Sunghoon said, his voice tinged with genuine concern. He was struggling to form his thoughts properly, not wanting to say the wrong things but clearly wanting to show his disapproval. “What if he’s not who he says he is? You can’t just meet up with some random guy.”

“Sunghoon, it’s not like I’m going to be reckless,” you replied, feeling a bit defensive. “If my friend knows him, then I should be fine, right?”

“Still, just because your friend knows him doesn’t mean he’s a good person.”

“You judge a lot for someone who hasn’t even heard about this man before,” you countered, crossing your arms.

“And you’re putting a lot of trust in a man you’re planning on seeing today,” Sunghoon shot back, his expression unwavering.

The room fell into a tense silence, his words hanging heavily in the air. You could see he was genuinely concerned, but his protective stance was starting to grate on your nerves.

“Whatever, Sunghoon, you can’t change my mind. I have to give this thing a try.”

“And do you even have a ride?” His question caught you off guard, making you pause. You didn’t have a ride.

You hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a quick response. “I was just going to take the bus,” you admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Sunghoon sighed, clearly not satisfied with your plan. “I’ll drive you,” he offered. Then, with a smirk, he added, “But, you’re going on a date with me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush with confusion. “What? Wait, what do you mean?” you stammered, caught completely off guard by his sudden declaration.

“I think I made it pretty clear that I didn’t like the thought of your date, did I not?” Sunghoon said, getting up from the bed and walking over to your desk. He leaned against it, pressing his palms on the surface, standing right next to where you were seated. “I wouldn’t want you to waste a cute outfit.”

“Okay, this is all of a sudden—this is crazy, Sunghoon!” you exclaimed, trying to wrap your head around the situation.

“Come on, you tell me that all the time. Why don’t you tell me something new?” he replied with a playful smirk. He was back to his usual self, but there was a flirty undertone you weren’t sure whether you hated or actually enjoyed.

“No really, do you know how insane you sound right now? Why would I go on a date with you?” you asked, still trying to process his sudden proposal.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“We can’t.”

“Why is that?”

“You’re my brother’s best friend—and my friend is going to kill me if I back out now,” you explained, trying to sound resolute.

“I don’t think it would be a problem to cancel now,” Sunghoon said, dismissing your concerns with a casual shrug. “And your brother? He doesn’t have to know.”

“Sunghoon!”

Sunghoon let out a small scoff, unable to hide his disbelief. He couldn’t understand why you were so set on meeting this guy. Did the thought of going out with him really bother you so much that you'd choose a stranger over him? The idea was unsettling to him.

“You’re already planning on breaking the rules that your brother established, so why are you hesitant now?”

“It’s not the same.”

“So, you’d rather go out with someone you don’t even know, instead of someone you’ve spent time with and know well? Why him, not me?” he asked, his frustration clear in his voice.

He muttered a curse under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Running a hand through his hair, he looked away from you, letting out a quick sigh as he struggled to collect his thoughts.

“Forget what I said.”

“You could’ve just blackmailed me by saying that you were going to tell my brother about this, but you chose to basically ask me out?” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes.

“It’s not like I meant it,” he mumbled, clearly flustered. “I’m just looking out for you because, you know, I’m your brother’s best friend. I was trying to get your mind off of this dating nonsense thing—as your brother would’ve liked.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sunghoon, you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing!” he insisted, but the pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. He tried to maintain his composure, but the blush only deepened under your scrutiny.

“Right, and I’m supposed to believe that?” you said, crossing your arms with a knowing smile.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little jealous. But can you blame me? I’ve seen you around all the time, and you’re amazing. And I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how. So, hearing you talk about going on a date suddenly was definitely not a good feeling.”

“I didn’t think you saw me that way,” you admitted softly, feeling your defenses start to crumble.

“Well, I do,” Sunghoon replied, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “I’m just trying to understand why you’d choose a stranger over someone who’s been here all along.”

“I’ll admit, I didn’t think you were actually suggesting we go out,” you said, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Let alone, suddenly calling it a date…”

“It could be considered a friendly one then. Would that make you feel more at ease with agreeing? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my abruptness,” Sunghoon replied, his tone softening as he tried to reassure you.

“Oh? Yeah…that could work too…”

“You sound like you want it to be considered an actual date,” Sunghoon teased, a playful glint returning to his eyes as he leaned a little closer. “Is this you saying ‘yes’?”

“There you go, being your teasing self again. I thought we were having a moment,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “I can’t help but think you meant it that way for suddenly bringing it up.”

He laughed. “Well, we can have an even better moment, only if you accept.”

“Ask me properly then.”

“So demanding,” he teased, shaking his head with a grin.

“It’s either that, or I actually take a bus and meet up with him,” you said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Don’t joke like that,” Sunghoon said, meeting your gaze with a serious look, though a small smile soon cracked through. “Okay then, Y/N, will you go out with me tonight?”

You pretended to consider it for a moment, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Well, since you asked so nicely… I guess I can rearrange my plans,” you replied with a smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. You might feel a twinge of guilt for backing out of your original plans, but you know your friend won’t hold it against you. After all, you're still going on a date—just not with the person she set you up with. Instead, it's with your brother's best friend, which adds an unexpected twist to the evening.

“But if my brother even suspects a single thing, you’re so dead.”

“Don’t worry, even if we have to sneak out, I can make it work.” Sunghoon said confidently, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I promise this will be worth way more than whatever you planned on doing today.”

────── 𝓔NHYPEN 𝓟ERM 𝓣AGLIST IS 𝓞PEN! 𝓐SK OR 𝓒OMMENT TO JOIN!

[shegetsburned]

❝ the prince’s jewel ❞ w. ryomen sukuna 𝜗𝜚.

BRIDGERTON AU⌇

• — dear gentle reader. this author feels not all is fit to print when so much is already known by far too many members of the ton when it comes to the mighty prince sukuna. though delighted by the frenzy of competition, this author believes that the prince will not participate in any courting exchange, despite his great desire to sire an heir or perhaps his desire to be known as the ton’s number one rake.

.nsfw.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who’s known throughout the whole kingdom to be a ruthless but laid-back ruler, having little to no interest in his subjects. barely governing as it is, he prefers to enjoy the wealth that his title has given him without an ounce of empathy for his poor subordinates. boredom has brought him to london where he believes to find at least some sort of entertainment to pass his time.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has no shame showing himself at the entrances of brothels and shady bars with ladies wrapped around his arms. never denying any of his endeavours and laughing in the face of scandals. when his name makes the header of the society’s paper, his grin grows the more larger.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who believes that, if he is to be married, his highness deserves none other than the diamond of the season, chosen by the queen for her beauty, elegance, purity and grace; you.

he has absolutely everything to envy; perfect musculature, charm, alluring beauty, enormous wealth and bewitching gaze which, without a doubt, attracts most ladies on display. he has many choices and doesn’t want to settle for any pathetic young girl that would throw herself at his feet. the diamond has to be his.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, as soon as he laid eyes on you, never hid his desire to rip your pretty dress apart with his perverted gaze. as you gracefully walked before the queen, his eyes travelled from your lips, trailing down to your appetizing curves moulded by your tight corset. the gown you wore had every man in the room breaking their neck to catch a glimpse of the diamond.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has learned about the custom of a man calling upon a lady and visiting her at her home, which he is way too indifferent to do. instead, sukuna sends you tons of enormous bouquets. gorgeous flowers that mostly scare off callers from their beauty and expansiveness. he might refuse to visit, but his gifts are enough for you to consider his proposal rather quickly.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who couldn’t care less about etiquettes or manners. you danced with another man? he’d immediately interrupt the two of you, groping your gown and pulling you closer with a nasty smirk. another suitor’s writing his name on your dance card? prince sukuna stares him down, tearing the piece of paper and pulling the string around your wrist to whisper in your ears insanities none would dare hear in a ballroom.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna whose favourite past time is to lead you in the pleasure garden, making sure every suitor, every mama and every lady of the ton has seen you walk beside the prince to the dark walk. he’s always determined to take it a step further. wether it’s with a curious hand on your ass, with his teeth around your earlobe or with his lips tasting your neck, his addiction is the more clearer.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has shown everyone that none other than him should court you and you let him. you let him have a hold on you and on your chances of ever securing a proposal with another suitor. most indeed believe prince sukuna has already stolen your honor even though, despite his most inappropriate gestures, hasn’t declared you his just yet. torturing you with sneaky glances and provocating promises became rather quickly the talk of the ton which suited him entirely.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, after several weeks, finally called on you. you’re more than surprised when he bribes your chaperone to let you two talk in private. without lying to himself or to you, he explains the reasons for his visit. truth is, the prince’s tired of waiting and he wants to consume your innocence while he still can.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who has you riding his entire length in your bed chamber. innocent puffy lips whining and moaning out his name. tits bouncing frenetically while his claws spreads your ass, leaving an odious mark. an inexperienced debutante like you, euphorically drunk on his dick, had the prince sukuna going for hours. hickies and teeth marks covered your chaste figure, officially claiming you as his. his hands explored every inch of your skin, planting his nails into the fat of your ass every time you bounced on him to lead you further down so you felt him deeper.

₊˚ପ⊹ prince!sukuna who, after an intense session of fucking and taking your innocence away, doesn’t bother helping you clean up, enjoying the sight of your messed up hair and teared-up dress. he leaves you exhausted in your wet sheets, with the promise of stealing you away to his kingdom the next time you would see him. the only thing he left behind is a lecherous diamond eager for her prince to come back and take much more than just her innocence.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own

[slayingfiction]

Words to use instead of ‘said’

**Using the word ‘said’ is absolutely not a bad choice, and in fact, you will want to use it for at least 40% of all your dialogue tags. Using other words can be great, especially for description and showing emotion, but used in excess can take away or distract from the story.

Neutral: acknowledged, added, affirmed, agreed, announced, answered, appealed, articulated, attested, began, bemused, boasted, called, chimed in, claimed, clarified, commented, conceded, confided, confirmed, contended, continued, corrected, decided, declared, deflected, demurred, disclosed, disputed, emphasized, explained, expressed, finished, gloated, greeted, hinted, imitated, imparted, implied, informed, interjected, insinuated, insisted, instructed, lectured, maintained, mouthed, mused, noted, observed, offered, put forth, reassured, recited, remarked, repeated, requested, replied, revealed, shared, spoke up, stated, suggested, uttered, voiced, volunteered, vowed, went on

Persuasive: advised, appealed, asserted, assured, begged, cajoled, claimed, convinced, directed, encouraged, implored, insisted, pleaded, pressed, probed, prodded, prompted, stressed, suggested, urged

Continuously: babbled, chattered, jabbered, rambled, rattled on

Quietly: admitted, breathed, confessed, croaked, crooned, grumbled, hissed, mumbled, murmured, muttered, purred, sighed, whispered

Loudly: bellowed, blurted, boomed, cried, hollered, howled, piped, roared, screamed, screeched, shouted, shrieked, squawked, thundered, wailed, yelled, yelped

Happily/Lovingly: admired, beamed, cackled, cheered, chirped, comforted, consoled, cooed, empathized, flirted, gushed, hummed, invited, praised, proclaimed, professed, reassured, soothed, squealed, whooped

Humour: bantered, chuckled, giggled, guffawed, jested, joked, joshed

Sad: bawled, begged, bemoaned, blubbered, grieved, lamented, mewled, mourned, pleaded, sniffled, sniveled, sobbed, wailed, wept, whimpered

Frustrated: argued, bickered, chastised, complained, exasperated, groaned, huffed, protested, whinged

Anger: accused, bristled, criticized, condemned, cursed, demanded, denounced, erupted, fumed, growled, lied, nagged, ordered, provoked, raged, ranted remonstrated, retorted, scoffed, scolded, scowled, seethed, shot, snapped, snarled, sneered, spat, stormed, swore, taunted, threatened, warned

Disgust: cringed, gagged, groused, griped, grunted, mocked, rasped, sniffed, snorted

Fear: cautioned, faltered, fretted, gasped, quaked, quavered, shuddered, stammered, stuttered, trembled, warned, whimpered, whined

Excited: beamed, cheered, cried out, crowed, exclaimed, gushed, rejoiced, sang, trumpeted

Surprised: blurted, exclaimed, gasped, marveled, sputtered, yelped

Provoked: bragged, dared, gibed, goaded, insulted, jeered, lied, mimicked, nagged, pestered, provoked, quipped, ribbed, ridiculed, sassed, teased

Uncertainty/Questionned: asked, challenged, coaxed, concluded, countered, debated, doubted, entreated, guessed, hesitated, hinted, implored, inquired, objected, persuaded, petitioned, pleaded, pondered, pressed, probed, proposed, queried, questioned, quizzed, reasoned, reiterated, reported, requested, speculated, supposed, surmised, testified, theorized, verified, wondered

This is by no means a full list, but should be more than enough to get you started!

Any more words you favor? Add them in the comments!

Happy Writing :)

[twstedstoryshop]

FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him. 

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

[cleolinda]

Are the Trump indictments election interference? asked someone whose question I will take in good faith against my better judgment.

The American presidential election (November 5, 2024) is more than a year away. There is more than a whole year for these four (4) trials to occur. If candidates want to start campaigning (and have already been campaigning) year(s) in advance, that is not the American judicial system's problem. Do not let anyone tell you that "I DECLARE CAMPAIGN SO YOU CAN'T TOUCH ME" is how this works.

I welcome criminal charges of actual substance for any candidate of any party. If you have dozens of pages of carefully documented charges against any/all Democrats, please have a DA call a grand jury whenever you would like. Political parties are not sports teams to me. Justice can do what it gotta do, whether it's convenient or not.

If someone doesn't want to get pulled up on racketeering charges (RICO), they maybe shouldn’t have racketeered. Or falsified business records, or mishandled documents to the tune of 31 charges under the Espionage Act, or incited an insurrection, the latter of which, I don't know about you, but which I personally watched on TV, live, for several hours, including coverage of the Trump rally that sent crowds marching over to the Capitol. We have heard the Georgia phone call that is part of the fourth indictment. We have seen pictures of classified documents piled in a random Mar-a-Lago bathroom. I am confident that these are not frivolous accusations.

District Attorney Fani Willis was careful to state that there should be a presumption of innocence (a standard American judicial doctrine). That said, I consider (as one example), this fourth indictment to be “charges of actual substance” because she delivered a 96-page document describing the racketeering (which, ironically, WAS ITSELF ELECTION INTERFERENCE):

u/code_archaeologist: The math on this is easy. For a jury to find a person guilty on a RICO charge in Georgia the prosecutor has to prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that they engaged in two incidents that predicated the overarching conspiracy. The RICO charge lists 161 predicating incidents. So Fani Willis has 161 shots at each defendant, and only has to hit twice.

(I like to read r/politics.)

Fani Willis has 161 predicating incidents of conspiracy to work with. I am pretty confident that, while a defendant is innocent until proven guilty in the American justice system, these charges have some weight and deserve to be heard in court.

tl;dr if you don't want to campaign under a legal cloud, don't do crimes.

Also try not to publicly intimidate witnesses. And prosecutors. And judges.

If anyone reading this truly wondered if the substance or timing of these proceedings are warranted, sincerely, I hope laying it out like this helped.

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part five) 18+

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The reader decides to give Aemond a proper goodbye - one that befits what became of the bond they share.

themes/warnings: smut (minors dni) - a bitter breakup roll in the hay, jealous and possessive and idiotic Aemond

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Aegon's jeering from the great hall has barely subsided before you harshly pull yourself away from Aemond's hold.

"Seven fucking hells, Aemond," you exclaim, your voice ringing in the empty hallway. "Why did you do that? Why must you humiliate me in such a way?"

"You humiliate me," he spits, matching your venom, "by declaring yourself as betrothed to that snivelling bastard."

"He is no bastard," you seethe, your finger poking at his chest. "He is a gentle Lord, and a far more decent man than you will ever be. And I am certain that he will honour me when he soon becomes my Lord husband."

"No." Aemond lurches forward, cradling your face with both hands. There is pressure to his hold - he is letting his anger take over him. "No, my love," he repeats, softer, his shoulders releasing their tension.

Your resolve falters at his words. They used to be a thing you would spin in your mind, over and over, an endless song to sing. My love. "You cannot me call me that, Aemond," you murmur. "That is no longer true, if indeed it ever was."

"You doubt me so," he lowers his head, as if wounded.

But you do not have it in you to soften your approach. "You have given me every reason to doubt you, Aemond. I can no longer trust you. Not after Alys."

At the mention of her name, he is rendered alert, a wild look in his eye. "Yes. Alys."

"I do not wish to hear of her," you step away from him, but he only moves in your path.

"I have something to tell you, my love." He reaches for your hand, and you are too exhausted, too uncaring to fight back. "She has agreed to put an early end to our arrangement. Yet she will continue to aid our cause, ensuring that we win the war."

It seemed too good to be true. You are unable to believe that the witch would simply relinquish the power she has with Aemond. And you are proven correct when he adds, "But she presents one condition. I must give her a child."

The absurdity of it all makes your head spin, and suddenly your skirts weigh far too much for you to bear. Without realizing it, you lean into Aemond for support, seeking balance. He mistakes the gesture for approval - how foolish of him.

"That is ridiculous, Aemond," you croak harshly, your words coming out garbled.

"My love, what - "

"I am afraid you have lost me completely," you pull back, eyes darting around for reprieve. You cannot bring yourself to look at him, your gaze distant and hollow, fixated on nothing. With icy detachment, you murmur, "Go on, then. Wed her, if that is what you wish. Why stop at just making her the mother of your child?"

"You cannot mean that." He flinches at the suggestion.

Taking a deep breath, in finality, you declare, "We have to end whatever we have, Aemond. For both of our sakes. For the sake of your future children with Alys, and mine with Ramsay. We must part ways... and say goodbye."

His expression switches, desperation showing through the cracks in his mask of self-assuredness.

"No." He steps back, instantly rejecting your words. In his warped mind, the thought of separation is impossible. He could never leave you, and you could never leave him. That’s how it has always been, and how it always will be.

To his credit, he actually appears pained. For a moment, you see your Aemond. The only one you have ever loved. You are certain that his pain is reflected in you now.

You reach a hand out, and he tentatively accepts it.

Without a word, you lead him through the halls of the Red Keep.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"To my chambers," you reply firmly. "We both deserve a proper goodbye."

When you reach your destination, the unbearable weight of everything comes crashing down on you. This will be your true final moment with Aemond. You will never get to hold him, kiss him, feel him buried inside of you after this night.

On the morrow, he will be a stranger. He has to be.

He makes an attempt to speak, presumably to inquire upon your reasoning for taking him here. But you do not allow a word to slip past his lips, effectively silencing him with a searing kiss.

He melts unto you instantly, a soft moan escaping his throat as he welcomes your touch.

Your hands move instinctively to the fastenings of his tunic, deftly undoing them without breaking the kiss. He reaches down to come to your aid, his fingers brushing against yours, until the fabric slips from his shoulders and falls in a careless heap on the floor.

His tongue tangles with yours as his hands fumble with the ties on the back of your gown. A low growl escapes him when they don’t loosen as quickly as he'd like, his impatience growing - eager to have you, desperate to taste the sweetness he craves.

It does not much longer before the both of you are left completely bare, as naked as the day you were born. He kisses you hungrily, afraid that you might disappear if he lets go. That you might do good on your threat to leave him.

You push him backward until his heels hit the edge of your bed, causing him to land on his bottom on the sheets.

His hands grip your hips tightly as you stand between his thighs, and he gazes up at you with pure, unrestrained desire. The same way he always has, as if nothing else in the world exists but you.

In this fleeting moment, you will allow it. Nothing and no one else exists except for Aemond and yourself.

With a sharp nudge to his shoulder, he reclines willingly, lying flat on his back, arms held out, silently inviting you to press your body onto his.

You crawl slowly from the edge of the bed toward him, hovering above with lust smoldering in your eyes. He bites his lip at the sight, his erection pressing hard against your lower stomach. As you shift, the slick tip grazes your skin, leaving a heated trail in its wake.

He groans as you let his cock drag across your skin, pulling you close with a strained, "Māzigon kesīr, issa jorrāelagon."

Come here, my love.

The kiss is sloppy, he sucks at your lips while his hands roam the warmth of your body. Groping at your breasts, your hips, then the curve of your ass. He takes two fingers, travelling down your pelvis, until it feels the wetness of your clit. He fondles it eagerly, leaving you mewling softly, and the sounds turn into unbridled open-mouthed moans when his fingers dip inside your dripping cunt.

"Iksos bona sȳz?" he purrs, as he slides them faster in between your folds. Does that feel good?

"Y-yes, Aemond, fuck yes." You collapse on top of him fully, your breasts pressed against the side of his face, your body angled to grant his deft hand unhindered access as he strokes your pussy.

He turns his head to suck at your breasts, his tongue darting out to flick your nipple. His fingers quicken their pace, the squelching sounds blending with your lustful whimpers.

A silken sheen coats his digits, catching the lamplight as they slip out, only to plunge back inside with a deliberate, relentless rhythm.

"Let go, my love," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Allow me to savour the sight of your unraveling."

His words are intoxicating, and you can’t help but use his mouth to muffle your cries, your kisses fervent as you come undone. Your teeth graze his bottom lip as you reach your peak, the sensation of his warm breaths mingling with your gasps of heightened pleasure.

After a moment, as you slump against him, he licks his hand clean of your substance, his good eye darkened with wanton pleasure.

You trail a finger tantalizingly over his chest, lingering on his jaw before it gently glides across the apparatus covering his eye. He remains still, the act of baring himself to you as natural as breathing.

"Does she see you for who you truly are?" you whisper softly.

"No," he replies with a quiet intensity, "only you do, my love. For eternity."

Eternity, you bitterly think, if eternity ends on this night.

With a deliberate motion, you remove the eyepatch from his head and toss it aside. The sapphire in his eye socket gleams with a mesmerizing light, giving him an otherworldly glow.

"My Prince Aemond," you sigh, "my dragon. I am going to ride you until you forget her name."

"She does not matter to me - ahhhh, gods - " His words die in his throat as you align your still dripping cunt with his cock and sink down in one swift and merciless motion, taking him to the hilt until your ass is pressed against his flesh.

Without missing a beat, you continue to ride him with frantic intensity, your breasts bouncing as he forcefully bucks his hips to meet yours. He responds with guttural moans and fragmented words of praise - yes my love, fuck me, you fuck me so well, there is no one else, I love you, I love you, I love you.

"Does she fuck you as well as I?" you ask menacingly, the walls of your pussy clenching around him.

"No." He tilts his head back in sheer bliss. "She could never. When she... uses me... I feel hollow."

As you brace yourself on his chest, your hands gripping him for support, you quicken the pace, aiming for that sweet spot within. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, drawing every ounce of pleasure from his thick cock as you both lose yourselves in the raw, all-consuming passion of the moment.

When he starts to quiver, his length sputtering inside you in those quick, successive jerks, you know this is your cue to release him from your cunt. But this time, you lean forward as you dismount, and pat his cheek in the most patronising manner, saying, "Save your precious seed for Alys. Since she needs it so terribly."

Depraved as it might be, the wickedly cunning expression on your face proves to be Aemond's undoing, that cold glare sensuous to him. With a strangled cry, he erupts, his Targaryen seed spilling across the taut planes of his pelvis in hot, white streams.

His mouth is open in pleasure and surprise as he helps himself through his release, gripping and tugging his cock firmly through the throes of his release. His gaze remains fixed your face, his sole source of pleasure, though the furrow in his brow reveals that he heard your bitter jibe.

"What a waste," you click your tongue in disappointment, eyeing the mess he made.

He still lies there, naked and covered in his own release, as you swiftly pull on your slip dress, followed by the heavy cloak hanging over the chair in the corner.

The emotions that once swirled within you - desire, sadness, yearning - harden into a bitter mix of anger and resentment. This is his doing. It is his fault that tonight will be the last. The love you once shared, the tenderness you once felt, has been shattered by his own hand.

Turning to face him, you bend your knees into a mocking curtsy, an emotionless smile tugging at your lips. "My Prince," you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "If I may be excused. I must fetch my lady-in-waiting to help me into something more fitting. After all, I have a feast to return to... and my betrothed awaits."

Just as your hand touches the door, his desperate voice cuts through the silence, "Wait!" he pleads.

You pause, tears welling in your eyes as you turn ever so slightly. Your voice trembles, barely holding together as you say one last time -

"I love you, Aemond. Goodbye."

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added): @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstorms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul @rorawinters @targaryen-madness @hanula18 @rhaenattargaryen @an0ther-us3r @sugurubabe @theshatteredideal @let-love-bleeds-red @s-we-e-t-t-ea @mydemimonde @the-intjs-dark-academic @heavenly1927 @anehkael @minttea07 @barnes70stark @cheneyq @cloudroomblog @neptuneiris @zaldritzosrose @oh-theseus

Some notes in the margins...

I should point out that in this story, Alys actually has magic and she has been instrumental in bringing about the victory of the Greens. Much like how she aided Daemon in season two, but dialled up to a hundred.

But no. That does not excuse Aemond's actions. Not at all.

Our bitter lovers needed their final, fucked up release. It is final for her, at least. But for Aemond?

[qqueenofhades]

I would like to... gently shake the people going 'Dick Cheney/Alberto Gonzalez/[insert neoconservative architect here] endorsing Harris is entirely and only a bad look for Harris' because that's not the point. And like, I get feeling weird about it (I've been unimpressed with Dick's backpedaling since Liz Cheney got primaried), but: Trump is proving too extreme for THE PEOPLE WHO MADE HIM POSSIBLE. This is their consequences. THAT'S the point.

Look, this is what I think about it: I fucking hate Dick Cheney and all the architects of the Bush Junior neoconservatism-early-aughts-War-on-Terror-Patriot-Act-No-Child-Left-Behinding Republican Party that laid the groundwork for the Tea Party and then for Trump. If there was any justice in the world, Dubya would be at the Hague for a war crimes tribunal and not allowed to sit in Texas painting dogs and enjoying a quiet retirement. But he was fortunate to be the president of the most powerful country in the world, and America doesn't obey international law unless it feels like it, so that's what we get. (And yes, someone asked Dubya if he was going to endorse in 2024, following Cheney, and was told, no doubt with much pious handwringing, that "President Bush retired from presidential politics many years ago." But he's still raising money for MAGA Senate candidates in Pennsylvania, evidently. Fuck you, George W. Bush. Kids these days don't say it enough.)

However, since literally the entire pre-Trump establishment Republican party is now deciding that Trump is too insane, fascist, and dangerous even for them, I'm not surprised but still annoyed that Online Leftist Logic (TM) has translated that to "Harris must secretly be an early-noughties hard-right neocon Republican and that's why they want to vote for her!!!" Most if not all of them have said that they openly disagree with her policies but are voting for her anyway because she is the only way to maintain American constitutional democracy. And yes, we're all shocked that DICK FUCKING CHENEY, architect of the Iraq War and the Patriot Act, felt that there was in fact a line of fascist government overreach that he wasn't willing to cross, but if that's the case -- if even these completely terrible warmongering corporate assholes are like "uh Trump is too bad even for us to support," then you should, I don't know, maybe listen to that. But as ever, I search for logic in vain.

Likewise: Harris has made zero policy concessions to these Republicans and she never went fishing for Cheney's endorsement specifically. She didn't suddenly declare Iraq a totally okay and normal thing in order to get Cheney and his warhawks on board, and yes, Old Dickhead probably has no small amount of personal motive to get back at Trump considering what he did to Liz. But that's the thing where apparently political motives should only ever be pure, moral, and Perfect, and taking the right action for the "wrong" reasons is still disqualifying because you weren't thinking enough pure moral thoughts while you did it, or something. I don't give a fuck why Cheney decided to vote for Harris, because I don't respect his opinion and can't foresee myself ever doing so. But because we are in an unprecedented historical moment where even DICK GODDAMN CHENEY thinks that Donald Trump is too dangerous to ever have power again, I will thank him for doing that and that alone and then tell him to hit the f'n road if he thinks he deserves a scrap of credit or Democratic policy concessions for it. He doesn't. He sucks. But he's still making a choice that we need to see made at this moment, and people who don't get that, as usual, can STFU.

Basically: Cheney's endorsement is not directed at you, and it's not intended to move voters who already fit your profile and therefore think, like I do, that Cheney can eat shit. It's directed to all the career-Republican-politician types who can see him doing that and decide that they can do the same thing. Hell, we just had 17 former staffers of Ronald Reagan announcing their Harris endorsement (in addition to the 200+ Bush, McCain, Romney alumni who already signed on and all the ex-Trump officials at the DNC) and going so far as to insist that Ol' Ronnie Raygun himself would have supported Harris. Now look. I hate Ronald Reagan more than any other twentieth-century president. The degree to which he ALSO laid the groundwork for incredible damage to America cannot be overstated. But because I am not an idiot, I can see that this does not mean Harris has suddenly turned into Reagan in her policies. So. Yeah.

The other thing to note here is that Harris has seen the advantage in cultivating a bipartisan coalition and making a cross-party case for voting her to preserve American democracy. Now, a lot of the Republicans have said that they are going to stay Republicans and they want to purge their party of Trump and MAGAism, they are trying to buy time for that transition to happen by voting for Harris, and while I have never voted for or agreed with a Republican in my whole life, I actually think that's a good thing! I don't WANT to fear the end of American democracy every four years because the Republican Party has become a screaming shitgibboning insane vehicle of American Gilead while inciting stochastic terrorism against Springfield, Ohio and everyone else who doesn't bow down to Trumpist Dear Leader and his KKK alt-right Elon Muskified supporters! I don't WANT this howling fascist conspiracy-theory-puppet-of-Vladimir-Putin black hole of violence to be just what we have to accept as the center-right (except you know, now far-far-far-far-can't-see-it-with-a-telescope-right) party in America! I would prefer it if we had a functioning democracy again where both parties were engaging in fair competitiveness and good faith and had the basic premise of making people's lives better, even if they disagreed about how to do it! I would REALLY like it if we could go back to the days of disagreeing about taxes and foreign policy and social welfare -- you know, NORMAL THINGS -- instead of Commander Vance and the Project 2025 foot soldiers trying to install a theocratic fascist dictatorship! I WOULD LIKE THAT A WHOLE LOT!

That said: I have pretty much reached my limit with asking people to vote. I have done it for 8+ years (since before Trump was elected the first time) and I'm done. Either you know the stakes of this election at this point, or you're so blindly and stupidly committed to misunderstanding them that there's nothing I or anyone else can possibly do to convince you. I still see people posting a lot of stuff from the bad-faith anti-democratic leftist cranks and arguing with them endlessly and... why? Why? Why are you giving them the oxygen and exposure that they crave, and which is giving them more attention than anyone else is giving them? Block them. Mute them. STOP ENGAGING WITH EVERYTHING THEY SAY EVEN IF YOU'RE TRYING TO REFUTE IT. It's not going to work, and at this point, it's not remotely conducive to winning this election. The Great Myth of the Undecided Voter (TM) is another one that, I hope, can finally bite the dust, and the actual undecided voters who are out there are not the ones posting dirtbag leftist bullshit about Harris on The Website Formerly Known as Twitter. This election is now completely down to a numbers game: who can make their identified voters turn out to vote. So please. Spend your time and energy on reaching those folks, who might want to or have said they will vote but need a push or extra help to make sure they do.

That being the case, if lifelong Republicans want to vote for Harris and help defeat a Trump dictatorship, they're actually being more helpful for the cause of American democracy than every single shrieking Online Leftist out there, and maybe they should think about that. I'm amused at how they still think they can make demands of the Democrats, because -- when your entire plan from the word go has been "I'm not voting for the Democrats and there's nothing you can do to make me!!!" -- why are you surprised that they don't take your thoughts and opinions into account? That's the basic simplest Democracy 101 version of how electoral politics works. If you have removed yourself from their voter pool and laugh and scoff at any suggestion that you should enter it, then they're not gonna listen to you or think that they should make policy to appease you (which is good, because most of these people are fucking nuts). That's why they're blowing a gasket disowning AOC, still one of the most left-wing members in the House, because she wants to actually win and make real changes in society and has reached a happy-ish marriage with the Democratic party, instead of virtuously losing her seat and becoming irrelevant like some other members of the Squad who got primaried out this year. And the Democrats have accepted many of AOC's views as mainstream policy! She didn't change, but she stayed in the party and worked with it, and the party as a whole is moving to where she was all along. But because any hint of compromise or working to get results, rather than just posting self-righteous screeds on the internet, is Bad, she had to go, I guess. Or something.

Anyway. That's the that on that. If you want to win this election, target and talk to the people who have already identified themselves as likely or possible voters, they just need that extra push to become definite voters. I'm over the anti-democratic hypocritical leftist cranks as much as I am the screaming shitgibboning racist-mob-inciting fascists. If it takes some Republicans gritting their teeth and getting on board the "let's save American democracy" boat with me, then fine. They're actually willing to do the smallest tiny thing to make that outcome come about, and that means, for right now, they are the enemy of my enemy and I'll accept their help. After that, I would in fact like it if we had a sane center-right party again, once Trump is in jail and we can fumigate the MAGA rot. It's up to them.

[harmonysanreads]

When you hug them for the first time.

characters : al haitham, neuvillette, scaramouche, furina

cw(s) : very gentle yandere themes, everyone is surprised pikachu in different styles

──⚝ al haitham

For the first time in his life, while being at least two consistent steps ahead of everyone — Al Haitham finds himself at a loss.

Perhaps that had been your intention as well, a part of him suspects. You were certainly not the first in this endeavor, seeing a usually composed person behave contradictorily to their nature is, unfortunately, the source of amusement for a specific group of people and, bewilderment for unsuspecting onlookers. Albeit, the Scribe doubts the former to be your main objective because, the last wicks of rebellion were snuffed out by his persistent hands. The mesolimbic pathway of the brain is known to regulate incentive salience and many reward related behaviors, Alhaitham knows this much because of continued perusal. Indeed, science can explain many things, logic can place things on a concrete scale.

The Scribe may also try to rationalize the feelings you create within him in ways that fit his comfort zone, but, more often than not, they fail to prove satisfactory. You alone have the supreme power of luring him out of his shell by simply existing beside him, and he, the foolish scholar parched in search of enlightenment, follows the mirage's call each time. Many have tried to tear his ataraxia to shreds and only one has succeeded. Which is why, he remains still, unmoving, muscles terse from the pull of his pride. Maybe giving a last chance to his ego, seeing, if ignoring this gnawing addiction would shoo it away for good, and of course, he is a foolish man.

He hadn't done anything in that precise moment but, later that night, he had held you tighter than he ever had.

──⚝ neuvillette

It is universally acknowledged that justice bends to no one, but, what verdict should be declared upon the person, who drives the very symbol of justice insane?

It is both Neuvillette's delight and agony the control you have over him. You keep him dangling by your finger and the odd thrill that spreads across his soul from it, entices him to further entangle himself in this intoxicating chase. Sometimes, he's yanked to awareness by his conscience, it should be insulting for a man of his stature to be so helplessly smitten. The thought that he, the mighty Sovereign of Hydro, is just as susceptible to temptation as an ordinary man is, should appall him. Perhaps, they did concern him initially. Would it not have been wise to uproot the source of this burgeoning obsession from his heart when he still had the chance? Before this exact scenario which he knows will plummet him to a trench he won't be able to—will not want to—return from?

Yes, that would have been a reasonable decision. But, it'd not be so exhilarating. A drowning man from whose fingertips the surface has already escaped, finds peace in the feeling of sinking to the unknown depths. Neuvillette embraces his fall and, you'd think such desperation was impossible from one single man if you didn't feel it pressed to every inch of your skin. The Iudex's sigh will blow over your hair and in your arms will he rediscover his breath. How utterly foolish of him, why did he deny himself this sanctuary for so long?

Neuvillette is so dazed from the peace that, he wouldn't mind dying in that moment, if only he could remain in your embrace.

──⚝ scaramouche

It really is a mistake to give a man an inch who unashamedly steals a mile, but, it's too late for you to reconsider now, isn't it?

Innocent Kabukimono likes the feeling of being in your arms, it reminds him of a distant night where his mother brushed his tears aside. But, a part of him knows the way your gesture translates to him isn't quite what he had felt from his creator. Your embrace makes him secure, just like hers — but, it makes tiny sparks bloom in his vacant ribcage as well. He doesn't know what it is, or, if he wants to know. All he's certain about is that, he wants to remain in your arms forever, tucked away from the merciless eyes of fate.

Kunikuzushi's wary eyes dart across you in anticipation of a dagger at his back or, a triumphant smile for having discovered his weakness. It's not that he doesn't like this, but, more so that he can't bring himself to not complicate the gesture. Why do you give him something that no one has bothered with? He thinks it's better he remains careful—though he doesn't pull away—because, it'd break him beyond repair if you betrayed him, too.

The Balladeer is startled, out of every one of your tricks to render him speechless, this one has been the most effective yet. You should probably stick to this from now on (not that he'll say it out loud). The Harbinger would rather swallow those tooth-rotting dango than admit that there is some genuine kindness left on this cursed planet. As much as he suspects you of fostering ulterior motives, he isn't as caught up in it as Kunikuzushi that every other detail eludes his judgement. He makes a show out of how annoying he finds it, how much inconvenience you're causing him by the grip of your arms. You'd believe his words and ‘irritated’ body language as well, had his fight with the curve of his lips wasn't so blatant. Perhaps, you should apologize for hugging him without permission with a kiss, hm?

The Wanderer wonders what beget this expression of kindness. In his lone vagrancy, he's encountered the sight of these gestures periodically. His curiousity yearned to know what significance was contained in an embrace, how it felt and why he was never at the receiving end of one. These questions were pushed at the depths of his soul—or whatever it is that lets him ‘live’—where they festered into want and then hunger. This slumbering appetite was emboldened on the day he willingly bore the memories of his past. But, the weight of a lifetime rendered him tired. For once, he did not want to think, suspect or tease ; he only wished to be held without restraint.

Which is why, Wanderer is the only version of this puppet who returns your embrace.

──⚝ furina

Not even acute mastery over the art of improvisation could've prepared Furina for this out-of-script situation.

It should've come as no surprise to her, she's been the center of a nation's adoration for five centuries, people of Fontaine flock in line for the chance of catching a glimpse of their Regina. You must've been unable to contain the immense affection you have for her, just like everyone else! But, for some reason, that thought feels bitter on her tongue when applied to you. She realizes that comparing your affection to the one her people shower her with leaves her with a howling dissatisfaction. The warmth of your being and the tentative tightening of your arms make her legs wobbly, send her heart prancing and her stomach twisting in the most pleasant way.

Of course... the citizens of Fontaine love her for her performance, for the role she plays ; not and never for herself. But, the percipience that you may love the cowardly, lonely and pathetic girl she truly is — tumble upon her like a plethora of bricks and almost make her faint. When she lifts her arms next, the notion of her returning the hug is tossed promptly in the flurry of tickles. You're forced to succumb to the enticement of hearty chuckles and, she joins you — hoping that, the raucous sound of laughter will conceal the tears streaming down her face.

And she prays that, just for this one moment, she wouldn't be judged guilty.

happiest new year to whoever is reading this, you are lovely and you'll continue to shine in the next year(s) as well<3

[jellybonbons]

Playground Love

ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).

W/C: 1.0k

A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.

"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"

“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”

"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."

"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"

I love him.

At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.

But do you really love him?

The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?

You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for. 

"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Why? Age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"

Oh, how naively optimistic you were. 

Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security. 

“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”

“Does he?”

Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?

“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”

"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."

"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."

"He's... older, isn't he?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."

"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."

"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."

"I promise, Mama.”

You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.

But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid. 

You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you. 

You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.

But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?

With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.

Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.

“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”

You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.

You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.” 

“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face. 

"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.

Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.

Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.       

- Oscar Wilde

[starogeorgina]

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Paring: Jacaerys Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

1.01

“His heart beats for blood. Blood and fire.”

Jacaerys stares at his betrothed from across the room, watching as she mumbles to herself while flicking through the same book he’s seen her read many times, her heavy-looking eyes often fixated on the same page for a long period of time. He was informed the library and Sept were the only places she would visit outside her private chambers since Aemond killed his brother.

The last time Jace’s family were all together, in King’s landing, King Viserys declared his youngest daughter and eldest grandson were to be wed, with the intention of mending the rift between House Targaryen once and for all.

But that wasn’t what happened.

His betrothed was visibly happy and very vocal about how excited she was to start planning the wedding with his mother. Then his grandsire died, his mother’s throne was usurped, and his unborn sister died. Since returning from Winterfell Jacaerys, the princess hasn’t even glanced in his direction; she was avoiding him, which stung. Jace had never felt so alone; he always had Lucerys by his side before. Perhaps the princess was hiding herself away out of fear of being treated badly for what her brothers, mother, and grandsire had done to his family.

Not that he thought of her any differently; if anything, the young prince pitted her.

Jacaerys watches her for a few moments longer then decides it’s best to leave the princess be; no point in disturbing someone who is seeking isolation.

—

You stop making alterations to the tunic you were embroidering when you hear the door to the chambers you were currently occupying being opened; without looking back, you know who it is. When the footsteps don’t go any further than the doorway, you start threading the needle again.

Every corner you turn, you feel dark eyes burning a hole into you. Nothing that you could say would undo the pain inflicted already. Your mind begins to wonder again, and you don’t notice Jace moving until he’s sitting next to you at the wooden desk. He was looking directly at you, but you avoided meeting his gaze.

“My Prince.”

He takes a sharp intake of breath, “I hold no ill will towards you.”

The funeral for Lucerys was held earlier that day, just before the sun began to set. You watched from afar as Rhaenyra crumpled to pieces, and the rest of her family sobbed, mourning the loss of such a sweet boy. It would have been wrong for you to join them when someone you cared for dearly caused them so much pain.

“How can you not? My twin is the reason you won’t get to see Luke again.”

Jacaerys says nothing to your response. What could he say? You sit in silence, watching Jace’s finger trace over the outline of a dragon on the tunic. “It’s unfinished; it was meant to be a gift for after the wedding.”

A small smile pulls on his lips. “It’s Vermax.”

Regardless of the awful things that had happened, you wanted to remain on Dragonstone but doubted you’d be able to stay long. You were nothing but a reminder of what Aemond had done.

“What’s on your mind?”

You finally looked up and met his eyes, which are glossy from holding back tears. In comparison, your own issues seem minuscule, but you share what’s bothering you anyway. “I don’t want to go back home.”

“This is your home.”

“I’m afraid.”

Giving you a sympathetic look, Jace uses the pad of his thumb to rub circles on the back of your hand. Comforting touches weren’t something you were familiar with, but you liked the warmth coming from his hand.

“You’re safe inside these walls. I won’t let anybody come in here and hurt you.”

“I’m afraid of Dae—”

You’re cut off when there’s a knock at the door and Rhaenyra’s handmaiden, Elinda, walks into the room. You expected Jace to remove his thumb, but instead he squeezed your hand.

Elinda greets you both, “Princess, the queen wishes to speak with you.”

—

Staring into Rhaenyra's eyes was like staring down a dragon. Her fury was evident the moment you entered her quarters; you had seen Daemon storming in the opposite direction and presumed he had something to do with the queen's foul mood. You were thankful when she went to stand by the window.

“I believe my son was in your bedchamber when I sent for you. Is that correct?”

“No, I mean—“ you begin to stumble over your words. “Yes, he was there, Prince Jacaerys came to speak with me.”

“Nothing that could have waited until the morrow, I’m sure.”

Her expression was hard to read. Although she didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to explain further. “I told him I didn’t want to go back to King's Landing, and he told me this was my home. He said, I'm safe here.”

“Why would you believe any differently?”

“Nowhere is safe.”

Rhaenyra uncrosses her arms, her expression softening. “Nobody under my rule will harm you, but I must share this with you.”

Elinda hands you a scroll. Confused, you take it from her, “I don’t understand why someone would write to me.”

You open it nervously and read it. Your lips parted slightly; Rhaenyra asks what it says, but you’re unable to answer her. Elinda looks at it and lets out a small gasp, “It’s from Aegon. He’s demanding the princess return to King’s Landing at once.”

You take the scroll and toss it into the fireplace. “It may have my brother’s signature, but that is my grandsire and mother talking.”

“Elinda, leave us for a moment.” Rhaenyra lets out a frustrated sigh. When it’s just the two of you, she asks, “Do you wish to stay here, on Dragonstone?”

“Yes,” you say, taking a step towards her. “I understand if you want me to leave, but please don’t make me go back to them.”

Seeing the desperation in your eyes, she nods. “We may not be close, but you are my youngest sister. I know you are innocent.”

“I miss Helaena and her sweet children.” You begin to sob, “I was so quick to leave with you for Dragonstone that I never went and saw father before I left. I never said goodbye to him.”

“Neither of us knew what would happen.” Rhaenyra caresses your cheek in a motherly manner. “Jacaerys is right, you are safe here.”

—

Dragonstone was much darker and colder than what you were used to; your hair always feels damp even when it’s dry. You found the sounds of waves crashing around the island comforting.

But not as comforting as being held by Jacaerys.

You expected the prince to have returned to his own quarters, but he was waiting on you to return. You were sitting on the edge of the table with your legs dangling over the edge, Jacaerys forehead pressed against your own while he held you close.

The both of you were lonely, hurt, and scared.

“Won’t you get in trouble for being here so late?”

“We will be married soon,” Jacaerys says, stepping back. “Will we share a room when we are married?”

“I was told that women only lay with their husbands for a couple of nights a month, but everyone who I know who does it seems unhappy. Would you want us to always share a bedchamber?”

“Yes.”

Smiling, you peck him on the lips. “Sorry, that was inappropriate of me.”

“It’s okay.” He closes his eyes. “I hope the war ends soon so my mother can sit on her throne, and you can be my wife.”

You chuckle slightly. “As happy as I am to be your wife, I’m scared for our wedding night. My mother told me sex is painful for a woman.”

“It’s not always.”

“Wait, have you...” You don’t finish the question; the thought of him bedding someone else made you feel sick.

“No, but my stepfather is Daemon Targaryen,” he chuckles. “He always told me it was important for everyone involved to feel pleasure.”

“I was just told to grip the sheets while waiting for it to be over and that only men feel good.”

Jace’s lips ghost your own, his breath warm on your face. “Have you ever felt pleasure before?”

“Yes… kind of, have you.”

Jacaerys cheeks flush red as he nods.

“I touched myself once, but I didn’t put my fingers inside.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a sin for a woman to touch themselves for desire. I went to the sept immediately afterwards and didn’t do it again.”

“Sweet girl,” Jace kisses your cheek. “I’ll never touch you anymore than you want me to.”

You hug again, but this time Jace’s head is pressed against the side of your neck. You still like that in a comfortable silence until you feel him lightly kissing your neck. He pauses waiting for your reaction; a moan slips from your mouth, and you tighten your grip, going around Jace’s back, encouraging him. “Do it again, please.”

Jacaerys starts kissing up your neck until he reaches your jawline. Lifting his head, your noses brush together, “Can I make you feel good now?”

You take Jacaerys hand and guide it underneath your skirts, helping him find the sensitive spot that brings you such pleasure.

“Oh fuck!”

Jace shushes you with a kiss, “We need to be quiet.”

You hold onto his shoulders tightly as he rubs circles on your clit until you climax.

Smiling Jacaerys kisses you again, “It’s late; we should get some rest; the morrow will come soon enough.”

“Can you stay a little longer?”

He takes your hand and helps you off the table. “Yes, but I’ll need to go before the handmaidens come in the morning.”

[fatuismooches]

amandus est videri.

synopsis: Your birthday rolls around again, and you expect it to be a nice, relaxed day as always. But your illness hasn’t been the kindest to you lately, so Dottore decides to spoil you, as best as a man like him knows how to anyway.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Just a fluff, self-indulgent fic of Dottore being soft for you on your birthday. Fragile reader. He comforts you a lot at the end. Last year's fic.

Birthdays were a special thing, no doubt.

It was a day that many looked forward to. It represented another year of growing older, a joyful celebration with the ones you loved as you looked forward to the future. At least, that was the case for some people. For others, they simply didn’t care. Your husband was a good example. If you didn’t remind Dottore every year and present him with a gift, you were sure the day would pass like any other, whether he remembered it was his birthday or not.

You, on the other hand, were probably in the middle of these two feelings. Yes, you did look forward to the day, but you supposed it had lost some of the charm it should have. It had been so many years since you’d woken up from your almost eternal rest, and even longer since you had been plagued with this sickness. Therefore all of your birthdays have been spent with the same lingering feeling in the back of your mind - when will you spend your special day in good health, free to feel and think and act in the way you truly want to? At this point, the only reason you continued to ask for a large cake was to indulge the segments’ sweets cravings.

Still, your birthday did make you happy, whether it was from the lavishing affection from your lovers or the gifts you received (how you survived without your beloved Headcircles for so long was beyond you.) This year would be no different. But it was obvious to the others that you had become more withdrawn and closed off than your normal self, which had come as a result of your stagnant condition. 

Of course, Dottore himself had become more than aware of this. He was an observant man after all, even on the days he didn’t see you or speak to you. He knew you, inside and out. Even now, he could understand the downcast look that sometimes sunk into your face when you thought no one was watching. 

Which was no doubt surprising to the average person, considering the severe lack of ethical practice and empathy from the Doctor. Of course, being a scholar first and foremost, results came first, regardless of what needed to happen to obtain them. But in truth, when it came to you, he was a genuine doctor, and you were his only genuine patient, to which he had the genuine goal of treating and curing you, unlike his other subjects. 

Therefore, due to this sincerity, it was simple for him to understand how you were affected by your illness. However, you refused to ever approach him about it first, which often led to a flood of tears later down the line, when he finally got you to stop holding back. Still, there was only so much he could do. He wasn’t made to comfort, his specialty was the opposite. He wasn’t a natural at producing soft words, and his hands didn’t know where to go to make it all better.

Nowadays, it wasn’t hard for him to admit to himself that he missed your lively and vibrant self. The person who would constantly tease and banter with him, unafraid to debate with him or be loud in their declarations with a once familiar wide smile, laying their hands all over him as they thought of the most minuscule thing to bother him with. Needless to say, Il Dottore didn’t appreciate interruptions during his work…

But he missed yours. 

However, he saw the approaching date of your birthday as a good opportunity to hopefully help that person come forth once more. Of course, he was never one to really care about birthdays, until you came along. It was all those years ago when he decided that the effort you put into it was worth reciprocating even just a bit. Good work should be rewarded after all. Though this gift was certainly much bigger than his previous ones, he believed it was well deserved.

—

The day was just like any other. You had started it by watching the endless snow continue to form in heaps as the segments conducted their daily prodding at your body for checkups, and then made yourself cozy in bed in the comfort of your room. A lot of your days had been spent like this lately, too tired to walk around or entertain yourself with the segments. 

That was okay - they still visited you from time to time. But a visit that you did not expect was from Dottore himself. You hadn’t even heard him come in, only realizing his presence when his deep voice tickled your ear, making you jump and scramble to sit up properly. The fox creature that had peacefully nested near your feet was also awoken by the sudden intrusion, glaring at the man who paid it no attention.

“That seems to be quite an absorbing book you’re reading.” He had no reaction to how he caused you a great fright.

“I keep telling you not to scare me like that,” you huffed, heart still racing from his sudden appearance and also his close proximity. He cocked his head to the side with a smile, feigning innocence, while you pouted at his response, slumping back into the sheets. Foxttore also crawled up to your side and made himself comfy there once more.

“I did knock. Multiple times, in fact,” he commented, moving to stand over you. You probably have not changed your position much since this morning. “You didn’t hear me, so I simply took matters into my own hands.” The unamused glint in your eyes managed to bring a familiar feeling into his chest.

“Regardless, while I would inquire into the contents of the literature that has you so engrossed,” he hummed, moving away from you to observe any recent additions to your room, “I have something more important to share.”

“Is that so? Have you come to tell me the update of the experiment you last spoke about?” You asked, returning your attention to your book. In reality, you already knew the answer was no - whenever it had to do with his research you could always tell whether it was from his face or tone or body language. Either he was greatly pleased, perhaps even excited when he made a breakthrough, or he was sour and annoyed if the result was the opposite.

“No, but this is far more interesting.” The smile on his face gave you a feeling he was up to something.

“More interesting? I doubt anything could be more interesting than your research, Dottore,” you replied, but his statement intrigued you.

“I have decided to take you somewhere.” That response made your eyes widen, perking up in surprise. The times you had been able to leave the lab were far in between due to your illness, so you treasured each time you were able to witness the glory of the chilly snowfall. This had to have something to do with your birthday, and you were already grateful. Even if your body didn’t want to cooperate, well… you’d just force it to (hopefully.)

“Where? Tell me where!” You swung your feet over the edge of your bed, thrilled, your pet once again whining at the loss of your warmth. “Wait, actually, let me guess!” You didn’t notice how pleased he was with your sudden return to life, a smile on your face as you thought about all the possibilities, longing to get away from this place.

“Hmm… are we going to visit that delicious bakery again? And scare the townsfolk once more?” You tapped your cheek as you reminisced at the mix of petrified and curious expressions from when you two were there. It was still amusing to think about the Harbinger in such a place with you.

“No, somewhere farther away.”

“The theater, then? Oh, is a new play coming out? Are we gonna watch it? But I don’t want to hear you complain about the plot the whole time again…” Dottore merely watched, entertained by your deep in thought expression.

“No, not that either.” 

“Then where? Tell me,” you gave up on guessing, trying not to kick your legs in excitement.

“We are going to Sumeru together.” His words caused the room to go silent afterward as you blinked at him, trying to process his words. Your lips parted and then closed as you repeated what he said back in your mind, while Dottore only stared at you as if what he said was the most normal thing ever.

“... Huh? I- what?” After a bit, you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the sheer absurdity of that sentence. “Hey, I know a certain segment of yours likes to joke around, but not you so much. Now tell me, where are we really going?” But Dottore didn’t look phased at your denial, casually brushing his fingers against your numerous books on the shelves, only perking up once he recognized one on Khaenri’ahn machinery.

“We are going to Sumeru,” he repeated. “Once we’re there, we can go anywhere you like. We will leave a week from today, first thing in the morning, and get there the night before your birthday. And there is no need to pack, everything will be taken care of.” Once again, you were shocked into silence, your heart rate increasing to a pace that probably wasn’t the best for you.

“... You’re serious. You’re actually serious,” you spoke in disbelief, words coming out in a half-whisper. You stumbled to your feet until you were pressed against him, your hands gripping his shirt as you beckoned him for answers. “But why? I mean- how? I thought I couldn’t- we couldn’t because of all of those things and- well, are you sure? I… I don’t want to bother you or your work or cause any unnecessary problems or-” Your flustered self stopped talking when a large hand rested on top of your head.

“Am I not allowed to spoil my spouse?”

“S-Spoil… well…” The words felt so foreign coming from his lips - he could be very direct with his verbal affection if he was in the mood, but this… was more than what you had expected. Although you could feel your face heating up, you still couldn’t help but feel you were putting an extra burden on him, and your expression made it easy for him to guess so. Dottore’s hand moved to stroke your cheek instead, forcing you to look up at him.

“If you’re still not convinced… then think of it as repayment, if that suits you. You’ve always satisfied my needs, I am merely satisfying yours as well. Or perhaps… think of it as me taking a vacation. You’ve always asked me to take one, no?” His voice managed to quell your worries a bit as you nodded, reaching to your cheek to squeeze his hand. 

You still had a lot of questions - if you could even handle the whole trip with your illness - but you were sure he had already come up with all the solutions to all the problems in advance. As for how he managed to get time off… perhaps working as a Harbinger without taking any sort of break for centuries ended up having its usefulness in the end… You could just imagine the expression on Pierro’s face.

“Thank you… thank you! I love you!” You couldn’t help but hug him as tightly as you could, now knowing that you were truly leaving this place to not just anywhere but your homeland, the place you missed so much. It really did sound too good to be true… Dottore only chuckled at your reaction, having expected this from the moment he planned the whole trip. He held you back, smoothing your hair until you pulled away again, suddenly deep in thought once again.

“Oh Zandik, I need to make a list! There are so much things I need to do and see… how will I have time for them all? And I need to get a nice outfit ready… gotta get new filters for my Kamera too… I have to take a lot of pictures… And souvenirs for all the segments! And Bina and Panta and Childe-” In a flash, you were suddenly digging through your room in order to prepare for the things you just mentioned, as well as whatever was running through that mind of you. The abomination of a creature had waddled his way over to you, discontent that his cuddles were over, but still interested in your activities. 

Dottore only watched in amusement, simply glad to see you smiling again in a way that was wholly you, before he left you to attend to his own business.

—

To say you were restless was an understatement. You think that Dottore shouldn’t have told you about the trip this early because now you were constantly dreaming about what you’d do in Sumeru. It wasn’t only about Sumeru either, this was a long-awaited opportunity to spend genuine time with your husband. Although you hadn’t been feeling up to much lately, the whole situation made your spirits rise. 

But soon enough, the journey was underway. However, a small problem was that you had not been on a boat in hundreds of years. It was admittedly daunting at first - but wow, had the design of boats changed a lot over the centuries… you could have never thought a boat could be so fancy. Of course, Dottore was keeping his eye on you the whole time, making sure you could handle the change in environment.

“Staying out here too long won’t be good for you,” the sudden voice to the side of you made you jump a bit, before you quickly relaxed, realizing it was just Dottore. You had been just standing here every day for a while.

“The breeze is nicer than I’d thought it would be. And the sea… it’s very pretty.” You smiled, looking back at the view. Even though only boring water surrounded you two for miles, it was still a fascinating sight. You had already taken a lot of pictures, but they couldn’t compare to the real thing. “I wish to continue to look at it,” you added because you already knew he’d try to pull you away and into the warmth of the cabin. He was silent at your response, and you thought you’d won him over when suddenly something heavy slipped around you.

His coat, which was much larger than you, pooled on the floor of the deck. It really wasn’t necessary, considering you were already wearing your own, but who were you to decline his kind offer?

“Don’t stay too long,” was his only warning, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer to him, squeezing his hand when you suddenly remembered something important.

“Hey… speaking of, are you still motion sick, Zandik? Will you be okay?”

“I never had such a thing,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying not to remember certain… events at the Akademiya that you still made fun of to this day.

The Fatui agents pretended not to hear your cackles and their Harbinger’s disgruntled responses the whole trip.

—

You had refused to go to sleep for hours now. Why? Because you would reach the docks of Sumeru by tonight, and you would not miss the moment for anything, even though your body was loudly protesting to get some rest. Surprisingly, Dottore didn’t object too much. Obviously, he’d expected this. You were grateful that he was being lenient for once. Anxiously, you continued to wait with bated breath, tapping the edge of the boat.

And then Port Ormos came into view. 

You were still quite a distance away but… you thought it was beautiful. There were boats that were even more large and luxurious, and you could hear the hustle and bustle of people still filling the port even though the moon had begun to settle in. But the lights around the port glowed magnificently, so familiar to what you remembered all those years ago. Oh, but the layout was certainly different… it was the same and yet it was not, change was evident but there were things that still reminded you of the past. Of… better times.

“Dottore, do you-” As you turned around to look for him, you found that he was already next to you, watching the port come into view as well. You immediately hooked your arm around his, pulling him closer as you practically jumped up and down in excitement. 

“Thank you again, Dottore. I am truly so happy…” You nuzzled your face into his arm, hoping he could feel how thankful you were. He stroked your hair with his free hand in response. 

“Just don’t stray too far tonight. You can do that tomorrow.”

When you finally got off the boat and set foot on not just any land but in Sumeru, you just wanted to go everywhere. You wanted to see everything, the new places and the old - most importantly, the ones you shared with Zandik. But you paid mind to his request and stayed in one place (mostly), instead pacing around in awe while he handled business with the agents. Besides, you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself anyway, not with all these people here.

The house you were staying at was a distance away from the city, not too far but it also gave you two a sense of peacefulness and quiet away from all the noise. It was perfect and you loved it, as it somewhat reminded you of living in the dorms with Zandik, although the architecture had changed since then. But you were still a bit… unsatisfied.

“Are you sure we can’t just stay up and do something…?” You asked drowsily, fighting off the very obvious sleepiness in your voice, while Dottore pulled the blankets over you. Although you were energetic a few moments ago from the thrill of it all, tiredness had quickly settled into your body after it was over. Still, it just felt a bit annoying to waste this precious time sleeping, and you looked at your husband with pleading eyes. He seemed to think about it, before answering you.

“If you can stay awake for ten more minutes, then we can,” Dottore indulged your request, knowing full well that you would be knocked out by then. But you seemed more than ready to take on this challenge.

“I… I can do that! Alright, talk to me, Zandik,” you urged him, hoping a conversation with him would help you fight the sleepiness.

“You said that you created a list for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I did!” You tugged on his arm, pulling him closer as he was only sitting on the edge of the bed rather than lying next to you. Knowing him, he was probably going to try doing some work… somehow, despite being miles away from Snezhnaya. “I want to walk around the city first… oh, but we need to eat first. You know the good places, right? I know the segments have been here many times… they told you, right?” You continued to prattle on, forcing back your yawns.

“Naturally.”

“Good, good… we need to go into as many stores as possible. I have a lot of gifts to buy,” you rubbed your eyes to continue getting the sleepiness out of your system.

“You do, indeed.”

“Mhm. And a lot of… pictures,” you yawned, the fluffiness and softness of the pillows and sheets overtaking your senses. “We should visit the forest too. If only we could explore a ruin again…”

“We will, one day in the future.”

“Yeah… do you want to go anywhere, Zandik?” You had moved his hand that was held hostage to your cheek, enjoying the warmth.

“I already have plans for us to go somewhere later.” You forced your eyes open to blink at him in surprise.

“Really?” Despite being on the verge of slumber, that grabbed your attention very much.

“Of course.”

“...I am admittedly a bit concerned at how thoughtful you’re being, Zandik. Are you going to experiment on me when we get back?” You couldn’t help but tease him, however, it was still true that this was a bit strange coming from a person like Il Dottore. You were used to receiving his love in an… unconventional manner, that was just Dottore-like. It was hard to explain.

“Your lack of faith in me is rather heartbreaking, [Name],” he said in a similar, more sarcastic tone. “Perhaps I will run a few tests on you later.” You giggled in protest as he began to move his hand downward, tracing lines on your neck until he rested on your pulse, teasingly stroking the area. Your laughter had turned into yawns the more the seconds went by.

“So… how many minutes have passed?”

“Less than five.”

“Aww… well, I can keep going…” your voice dipped in volume the more you spoke, your grip on his arm becoming looser as you finally succumbed to sleep. He let himself feel you for a bit longer until he pulled away, moving your body into a comfortable position so you wouldn’t be sore, and then looked back to watch you. 

The rise and fall of your chest had always been something that brought him a sense of relief. It was the tangible sense of it that reassured him, always being the man who favored facts over fallacy. Your heartbeat along with the movement of your chest, and sometimes the small noises you made, were all things he checked for once you slipped off to the land of dreams. A doctor, a scholar, or a scientist could never be too careful.

A lover could not either.

—

Although waking up early wasn’t one of your favorite things, you did it anyway because this birthday wasn’t something you wanted to squander. The warm morning sun spilled into the room, a feeling that was never to be found in Snezhnaya. Rubbing your eyes, you realized Dottore was again at the side of the bed getting ready, just as he was last night. Your rustling movements alerted him to your consciousness. 

“Finally up, are you?” Dottore was always up early, well, it was more like he never went to sleep in the first place. You yawned in response before turning over to face him better, admiring his bare chest through his half-buttoned shirt, but more importantly, his lovely face that was not yet covered by that mask of his.

“Mhm,” you hardly mustered a response before smiling, continuing to nuzzle into the pillows, admiring your husband who always managed to look so good to you, especially when all the finer details were highlighted by all the light coming in. It was surely a sight to see as well, watching him put on that complicated outfit…

“Are you going to continue staring, or are you going to start getting ready?” His tone was more teasing for your wandering eyes rather than displeased. 

“So mean,” you giggled, finally sitting up and stretching before wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chest against his back. “I’m just glad the first thing I saw today was your handsome face.” He had no response as you kissed his neck, leaving soft kisses downward as his hair tickled your cheek.

“Here. Now carry me,” you pulled away and spread your arms out, patiently waiting as he turned back to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What? It’s my birthday, you should listen to my requests.” He paused to examine your bright smile and hopeful grin before he acquiesced.

“As you wish,” he replied, then wrapped a single arm around your side and hoisted you up rather inelegantly as you awkwardly dangled above the floor.

“H-Hey! Be gentle!” You squealed at the rough treatment before it turned to giggles, as you then got ready for the outing with your husband’s help.

—

The streets of Sumeru were everything you knew yet nothing at the same time. So many people going about their lives, Akademiya students walking about as well, mumbling about their research and exams and everything that came with being a scholar. Walking up the tree-woven bridges and staring from above, the view simply too beautiful for words to describe.

But…

All of the stores and buildings you once knew were gone, replaced with new ones. You knew that after so long nothing you’d remember would still be there, but deep down you hoped for something concrete to remind you of the past, if only to ease your heart for everything you missed out on. The only thing that remained the same was the Akademiya, though it certainly looked upgraded. Speaking of the Akademiya… if only you could set foot there again with him… pretending to be a student in the House of Daena like once before… but those days were long gone.

“You couldn’t possibly have thought the same things from centuries ago would still be here,” he sighed as you buried your face into his shoulder with disappointment.

“Well, you’re right but, I don’t know… there might have been a long-running family business or something,” you mumbled, appreciating his warmth and scent. At least you still had him after all the years.

“There is no need to fret. There are many things here you’d like.” Dottore attempted to comfort you, which wasn’t a lie. He knew the kind of things you were interested in. After a few moments, you shifted to look at him, nipping at his shirt before pulling away and grabbing his hand resolutely.

“Hmph, I know that. Now come, we need to see if this Puspa Café can compete with the one we used to study at,” you tugged on his arm, and he grinned, delighting in your whimsicality. 

—

By the end of the evening, you were sure you knew the face of every vendor there was in the city. Practically everywhere had been explored by you (and Dottore in tow, who was dragged along.)

Gifts had already been acquired - your favorite being an Aranara toy for Zandy. You considered the cookbooks as a shared gift, seeing as you’d make the food for everyone. It was always quite hard to pick something out for them, this was the many versions of Il Dottore after all… Still, it was a good thing you had agents to carry the items back. Poor things.

You also made sure to get your fill of delicious Sumerian food as well. Sure, certain things could be imported, and there were chefs in the Fatui, but it would never taste quite as good as it did here. And oh, the pictures. There were a lot of pictures. Nothing was off the table - the scenery, the animals… Dottore watched in silence, tapping his finger as you even took pictures of the food. And of course, you posed next to many things but especially the kitty cats.

“There can never be enough photos of me on your desk, Zandik. And I need to share them with all the other segments too! Now keep taking them,” you demanded, your poor Harbinger husband feeling more like your temporary maid as he fulfilled the most ludicrous requests for you, only for today of course.

“Come, come, let me see them now!” You ran back to him, eager to see the (hopefully) pretty photos. As you began to shuffle through the pictures, your smile gradually dropped while you could feel the smugness radiating from Dottore.

“…You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Zandik?” You looked up at him, completely unamused… because all of the photos he had taken just now were perfectly imperfect - the wind had messed with your hair or outfit, someone interrupted, you were being harassed by a bug…

“I fulfilled your request, did I not? I merely took the pictures as you asked.” You narrowed your eyes at him before pressing your finger into his chest.

“Listen here you, normally I find it adorable when you’re being cheeky and annoying,” you paused to stab him again with your finger, “but I will not tolerate it today of all days. I know we both remember the last time I gave you the treatment. Now be a good little husband and actually take good photos.”

“You’re rather feisty today, aren’t you dear?”

By now, the sun would soon begin to set, signaling the day would be coming to a close. The sky would slowly change into a brilliant hue, the perfect thing to gaze upon after a lovely day. You were… content, despite all the worries and less-than-nice feelings that sometimes rose to the surface, which you desperately beat back down for you didn’t want to think about that now.

But you knew the day wasn’t over yet. The whole time, Dottore’s words lingered in your mind - the promise of taking you somewhere. You wondered where it was. The best you could guess was the giant Ruin Guard you two used to visit back when you two were students… perhaps he wanted to see it again. You would be interested in knowing if that note he left in there survived for so long… 

“So, would you say it’s time for you to reveal your secret plan, Zandik? It’s been on my mind all day, you know.” You tapped the railing as you watched the clouds float in the sky, trying to find any shapes that looked familiar. Dottore watched from behind you, his eyes more focused on your pretty frame.

“I was waiting for you to finish this little adventure of yours. You’ve been so busy, how could I possibly interject?” Your husband moved to stand next to you, the black fluff of his outfit tickling your shoulder.

“And I thank you for your very much appreciated patience. I know you’d rather be tinkering with something than following me around,” you chuckled, relishing in the closeness of his body.

“Nonsense. Even I value the time I have to admire your many expressions. It brings much amusement, especially the idiotic ones,” he hummed as he took his hand in yours, tugging you forward as you ignored the little tease.

“So… where are we going exactly?” You squeezed his hand as you followed Dottore, simply trusting him. You had always loved Dottore’s hands. They were big and fit perfectly in your own, reassuring you whenever he ran them over your body. It was the same hands that took so much from others… but always gave to you.

“You’ll see.”

“Can I at least have a hint? Or what we’re going to do there?”

“You’ll see,” he repeated while you huffed in disappointment, but then he paused, seemingly wanting to say something more. “It is a place you showed me.” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t pry anymore. 

Soon the path dwindled, the noise from the city fading as two you got further and further away, and you instead decided to appreciate the atmosphere of the walk. However, your legs had gotten very tired from all the walking earlier, even though you took numerous breaks in the city, and you were struggling to keep up the pace now. But you were too shy to tell him about the problem.

It was a good thing your husband happened to be an observant doctor.

Dottore’s pace lessened so you could catch your breath, and then he stopped completely to sweep you off your feet, something your body was far too grateful for. Your sigh of relief was also quite audible, much to your displeasure.

“The path ahead is dangerous. It is better if you don’t walk,” he said simply, sparing you the embarrassment. You whispered a quiet thank you as he carried your body bridal style with complete ease, your head nuzzled into his shoulder while your fingers played with his shirt and accessories. (You always wondered how he wore all those hanging things… when you tried putting all of them on before, your back hurt… really bad.)

He was right - the path was steep and rocky, hard for the average person to walk. There were some monsters, but he didn’t even need to draw his blade to kill them of course. Even though you were more interested in cuddling into his chest, the journey seemed familiar… very familiar in fact, and you suddenly thought hard about where you could be going. It had to be some place during the Akademiya time… 

You blinked again at the scenery and then you saw the past again. 

Ah, how could you forget? The time you dragged the unwilling scholar from his dorm, all because you wanted to show him a special place (and get him out of that stuffy room for once, all he wanted to go to was to class, the dorm, or to some ruin for investigation.) You helped him through the whole hike, defeating the enemies easily as he panted behind you. You only ended up going there once with him due to all the hassle it took, but it was so worth it because the view was-

Absolutely breathtaking, you thought, as you set sight on the place after over four hundred years. To be exact, it was just a very large flower field filled with dainty Sumeru Roses, but it was just so pretty, along with a clear, unfiltered view of the pure sky. The smell was always so pleasant too, the perfect place to relax. The last time here, you forced him to lay back and just relax (which he was not a fan of, he bought his books anyway.)

Dottore had set you down carefully, making sure your feet weren’t too wobbly, so you could take a few steps into the field.

“It’s just as beautiful as I remember,” you sighed happily. “I… I can’t believe you actually remember this place,” you got a bit flushed at how he remembered this, especially when you loved it so. Your eyes roamed about, trying to take in every detail when you noticed there was something spread out a bit in the distance. You took a few more steps while Dottore followed closely behind, still silent. Soon, you were in front of a soft blanket, along with a picnic basket, the delicious aroma wafting out.

“This is…” The words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth as you kept looking back and forth between the picnic and your husband. Meanwhile, Dottore didn’t seem phased in the slightest as he ushered you to the ground. A few containers were emptied onto the blanket, packaged just the way you used to when you were a student. Did he copy you? Not to mention…

“These are the same things I made for you for our last picnic…” Obviously, he couldn’t have cooked these himself or he’d have blown up someone’s kitchen, but his memory was quite exceptional. You always specifically made these dishes because they were loved by both of you.

“Eat before it gets cold. Though… the flavor lacks in comparison to what you make,” he seemed slightly disappointed by the quality as he bit into the samosa. Perhaps this was why he barely ate anything all day. You, on the other hand, were still… flabbergasted, your jaw moving to speak and then freezing up. You furrowed your eyebrows before you moved much closer, gripping his shirt and yanking on it.

“…Who are you, and what have you done with Dottore?”

“…Pardon?”

“I’m asking who you are and what have you done with the real Dottore!” You exclaimed as you pulled him back and forth while he looked at you blankly, surprisingly more with confusion than amusement.

“Alright, how many times have you apologized to me in your numerous centuries of life?”

“Three times.”

“How long did you kick me out of the dorm when-”

“Four days, thirteen hours, and fourty-seven minutes.”

“Okay… how many pens did you end up breaking on the expedition when we got trapped in that one ruin in the desert?”

“Nine.” You blinked at him carefully before scooting back, satisfied with your little interrogation.

“…So- so, you’re the real thing, huh? Hmph, I- well, it is about time you did something like this. I always had to organize all the picnic dates back then you know,” you brushed it off, trying to not show how touched you were by this, your heart stuttering badly. It was so simple, but all so meaningful. It showed that Dottore paid attention to you, only to someone as ordinary and weak as you, nothing escaping his watchful eye. Quickly, you tried to shake off the sudden emotion bubbling in your chest as you continued to defend yourself.

“You can’t blame me for this, by the way. Doing all this is awful strange for you,” you stated. The way he was acting was almost a bit perturbing. You never would have thought him to care so much. 

“I only copied exactly what you did. Hardly any effort was required on my part,” he always said such things so casually, as if it was meaningless (which could be good or bad, depending on the situation.) But things like these always made your heart race, made you think that at least you were special to him. You decided not to continue the topic.

You plopped your head onto his lap, beginning to reach for something to munch on when he stopped you.

“Don’t eat lying down. It’s bad for your health.”

“Aww, but you're so nice and cozy down here.”

The time flew by quickly after that, words swept away by the gentle breeze. After a bit of prodding you were able to get him to start rambling about that one experiment that was giving him a headache, an update that you were interested in but more so listening to his voice. You loved when he did this - not many people know how much of a talker he could be. 

In the meantime, you also idled by weaving some flowers together. You had done this last time too - the blush on his cheeks gave you a good laugh. Though your hands trembled from how much precision the braiding of the stems took, you continued on slowly anyway. 

“There we go,” you let out a sigh of relief as the stems were finally connected into a crown, even though it definitely wasn’t your best work. You glanced at Dottore, who was still ranting on (about the banker this time), and then placed it on him, which he momentarily paused at the sensation, fingers reaching up to brush against the flowers.

“Hmm… it’s a bit lopsided, but it suits you, cutie,” you smiled at the work of art you created - your husband adorned with Sumeru Roses, to be exact. He rubbed his fingers between the soft petals before placing the crown on your head instead.

“It suits your features far more.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you shook your head.

“Such a smooth talker. I feel as though our places have been swapped,” you exhaled softly, remembering how you were the one always blatantly flirting with him in the Akademiya. “Ah, wait, I still have one more request!” There was one thing you wanted to do for the whole day.

Your trusty Kamera was released again as you looked at him with pleading eyes, the device aimed toward him. Dottore let out a great sigh. As much as he enjoyed sharing new mechanical tools with you, you could get… really into them. Especially because he kept tweaking them to make them better for you. Though he supposed he shouldn’t blame you too much… as long as it kept you satisfied. 

“I believe you’ve taken plenty.”

“Well, yes, I have… but none of you, beloved!”

Even though you had taken a lot of pictures, none of them included Dottore unfortunately. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of you having such… soft photos of him in possession. He knew exactly the kind of person you were, and what you could do with them, more specifically… who you could show them to. 

“Come on…” You cozied up to him, nuzzling yourself against your lover. “My scrapbook longs for more pictures of my one and only dear husband. Just one picture. One is all I ask! I’ll even take one of only your back profile if-”

“Do what you will, but make it quick,” he gave in begrudgingly, much to your pleasure. You gave him a good smooch on his cheek for that as you scooted back, getting into a better position to angle your Kamera. 

“Could I get a smile? A pose? Your eyes?”

“Don’t push your luck too much, [Name].” You grinned cheekily at his response.

The audible click of the Kamera sounded, and then the photo printed out. In a few moments, his face appeared on it, and you sighed in contentment. He was so handsome, and the background was perfect too.

“Satisfied?” He questioned, to which you nodded. “Now give it here.” You passed him the photo and he looked at it briefly, before motioning for the device in your hand. You were a bit confused as to why he wanted your Kamera but you gave it to him anyway.

“What? Are you confiscating it now?” You giggled. He fiddled with it, fingers gliding over the buttons as you watched curiously, and then all of a sudden it was pointed at you, the snapping sound catching you way off guard. He similarly copied your previous motions, looking rather pleased at your scattered self that he managed to capture.

“Ah- hey! At least let me fix myself first!” You fruitlessly lunged at Dottore to try and take back that unflattering picture of yourself, but of course, he was much stronger and faster than you.

“This one is for my personal use. I see no problem, you do the same thing, do you not?” He smiled smugly, as you gave up rather quickly, grumbling about how cruel he was.

—

So much time had ended up passing that nighttime was in full swing, the only thing illuminating the sky was the brilliant stars that shined above. Your birthday was drawing to a close. Dottore had already quietly whispered the words to you, as he always did.

You were happy. Happy to have spent this time away from that lab, away from seeing snow for miles and miles. It really did feel refreshing. And of course, you were happy to spend time with the one you valued above all. The feeling had left you feeling lighter than you had in a while, and you were busy snuggling up to Dottore while you gazed at the stars.

But then he spoke.

“[Name].”

“Yes?” 

“How have you been as of late?”

“Hmm? Well, I’m fine. You know, same old, same old.” You lazily shrugged your shoulders, though you were a bit caught off guard by the question. He seemed to ponder your answer, fingers drumming against you in a contemplating manner. He wondered if he should press you - you had been far more lively today than you were lately, and he was not sure if it would be wise to leave a sour taste in your mouth.

“And what about you? How have you been, Zandik? Still sitting at a desk for twenty-four hours straight?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Usually, you’re more than aware of my habits, considering you always barge in to change it.” You opened your mouth to respond, but your throat had gone dry because you knew what he was suggesting. You hadn’t really been visiting him or the segments lately.

“What? Do you miss me that easily?” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping to just play off the situation.

“And what if I said I do?” Whatever words you had prepared had disappeared and gotten stuck in your throat. He used to be so horrible with lovey-dovey words, and yet he managed to pull them out so casually sometimes. You breathed in.

“I… you see…” It was embarrassing really, how easy it was for him to break down the walls you hardened so desperately. Or maybe you were just weak. You had been dismissing any hint of pity from all the segments and him for so long, but it seemed like it was all catching up to you now. The light feeling you just had was beginning to quickly revert back to the heaviness that weighed on your heart.

“It’s nothing really,” you still try to deflect the question. You try to roll over too, just so he doesn’t have to see your face contort with all your stupid feelings, but his grip is far too strong for you to ever break free. 

“Your face is very easy to read, darling. Why do you not simply tell me what ails you?” You already saw this coming. You two have done this so many times, and each time you never fail to feel like a burden.

“…Because it’s the same conversation every time, Zandik. I don’t know how many times I can continue to tell you everything… my body, my health… it’s always the same thing.” 

You cannot help but think that surely he would prefer a more… active partner, one who could follow him around and be at his beck and call, assisting him with his intriguing research and experiments, one who could easily match his level, elevating his progress more and more. Not… you who struggled with tasks that should be as simple as breathing, and was more like a thorn in his side than anything else. 

You could list so many traits and things about him that could effortlessly show how he far exceeded the average person, even the Gods, how could you ever hope to live up to him? To a person who he deserved? You recall every time you ended up sobbing your heart out to him about these foolish matters, and yet every time he would listen, further ruining his research and schedule and- and, everything.

“I see,” he responds, his grip on you growing tighter, noticing your unleveled breathing. It is silent for a few moments, and you know he’s thinking of what to say, to ease your worries. It’s probably nothing you haven’t heard already though, so before he could waste his time, you interrupt him.

“Zandik. It’s my birthday. Let’s not talk about such things,” your voice is quiet and on the verge of being uncontrollably shaky. You ignore the prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and opt for hugging your husband instead. You hope that he takes pity on you and decides to let it go.

Dottore strokes your head for a few moments before pulling you back and taking off his mask, your eyes trembling as you struggle to look at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, as he thumbs your chin, preferring for you to listen instead of him forcing you like he usually does. You let out a soft sigh and eventually comply, only because you know that he always gets what he asks for when he’s like this. When you do look at him, his face doesn’t have a hint of softness, instead, it’s serious and solemn as he stares at you resolutely.

The look he gives you says that he’ll make sure you’re here for the next birthday, and the one after that, and all the ones decades and centuries from now, no matter what sins may stain his hands. You can only admire it for a few moments before you lean your head down. Even though he claimed not to be good at comfort and whatnot, he always made you happy… especially when it mattered.

“I love you, Zandik. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” your words come out quieter than you want them to, but you got the message out anyway. Zandik doesn’t respond, but when he tilts your chin to kiss you, you know that he feels the same. You let him push you down on the blanket again, continuing to kiss you as he held your body firmly. You don’t know how much time passes, but the world is even darker now.

“It’s getting late,” Dottore commented, rubbing circles on your palm. You only weakly squeeze back in response. “Perhaps we should get back now.”

“Aren’t we leaving for Snezhnaya first thing tomorrow morning?” Dottore nodded in response to your question. “Then let me treasure this moment for a bit longer. Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” You looked away from him to the sky that was now dark, the stars glimmering above the two of you. Dottore’s gaze remained on you until he too looked away to share the same view as you.

“Very well,” he gave into your request and a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, as you moved your hand to intertwine with his own more firmly. The two of you said nothing as you continued to share the moment with each other, until the very end.

Il Dottore wasn’t a good man. Many people froze in fear at the mere mention of his name, their bodies cold at the thought of what he had done, and what he could do. He wasn’t the best lover either. You two didn’t always get along, there were obviously times he upset and frustrated you. Any normal person could probably think of a hundred reasons as to why you shouldn’t stay with Dottore.

But you knew that whatever remained of Zandik’s heart loved you, and that was all that mattered.

[aprilcolours]

blackheart: part two

part one - part three - part four

—

Two days after the Battle at Lydden, the campground was abuzz with news. ‘The Northmen are here.’ ‘The Stark has arrived.’ ‘Did you hear? The greybeards have joined camp.’ The whispers were unavoidable as Visenya broke her morning fast. She thought it rather funny that men at war gossiped all the same as their wives at home. 

As she began to braid her hair (a wartime style like her mother’s), she thought of a certain young lord who had taken up a pressing residence in her mind. 

She worried that the kiss had been rash, impulsive, and ill-conceived. Perhaps I have let the fire in my blood get the better of me, she fretted.

Visenya carried a great weight on her shoulders. Her mother was relying on her to be successful on campaign, while her father was off gallivanting heedlessly. It was of the utmost importance that these Riverlanders respect her authority as commander and be brought to heel. Not an easy feat as a woman. I cannot afford to give even a single reason for doubt in my capability. 

It was these worries that had caused her to rebuff all attempts Benjicot Blackwood had made at flirtation since the kiss. He had tried to tease her, or goad her, or even on one fateful attempt last night: find her alone again. Like the day at Lydden, he had approached as she landed after scouting on Vermithor. She had said immediately, before she could change her mind, ‘After one does battle, they can retain a sort of thrill-seeking madness to expend the remainder of their blood-letting energy. It is common enough, but regrettable. My sole focus at this time is on securing my mother’s throne. I can consider nothing else.’ She did not meet his eyes as she spoke, looking instead over his shoulder before forcing herself to walk steadfastly away, and ignoring the flash of hurt writ across his face. 

It pained her, as she recalled the morning after, her braid now finished. She could still feel the ghost of him on her lips. Warm and yearning. 

We must all make sacrifices in war, she assured herself. Visenya II took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders, and stepped out of her tent to find her place among the war council. 

As the morning’s gossip foretold, a new broad figure stood at the table. Cregan Stark was a large man, an impression made only larger by the cloak of furs clasped round his shoulders. The familiar lords bowed, but surprisingly, the Northerner chose instead to drop to a knee before her. Lord Stark took her hand and kissed the back of it, declaring in a low voice “It is an honor, your highness.”

Visenya did her best to mask her amusement, though her eyes did widen at the display. 

“Lord Stark, so glad you could join us,” she responded, to some chuckles from the other council members. She looked around the table and caught Ben’s eye. His expression was dark, his usual grin now morphed into something more like a sneer. She looked away quickly and began the day’s deliberations. 

—

Near midday, the council adjourned momentarily to see to matters within their banners. Visenya used the time to discern the state of the troops, observing carefully to ensure standards were being met. 

Since the victory, certain soldiers had taken it upon themselves to establish a training field. Knights from differing regions clashed steel against steel, trying their skills against one another. She observed the sparring, face impassive. It seemed silly to waste such energy, the war is only beginning, she thought. 

“Does the fighting not please you my lady?” Ben’s taunting voice rang out nearby. 

His face held the promise of mischief. She was immediately wary, raising her signature unimpressed brow. He took a moment, almost seeming to check that all the gathered were listening, before he stook a step out into the yard and said,

“Well of course, a princess is not trained in such matters, not when you have a dragon to fight in your stead.” He gestured jauntily about like he had made a great joke. 

The whole camp stuttered to a standstill. Utter silence across the plain.

How. Dare. You. 

Visenya’s blood turned to ice in her veins, cold hard rage bottoming out her senses. Her face must’ve done something terrifying because every man in the near vicinity took a few steps back. 

And the scoundrel still just grinned his lopsided grin. 

You’ll pay for that Blackwood, she swore in her mind. 

“Is that so?” she asked, voice sharp and quiet like a shard of glass. She stalked slowly to the other edge of the training yard across from him, her steps measured and predatory. The knights gathered there scrambled back, dragging their equipment hastily. 

Back still turned to him, Visenya looked out upon the troops but did not see them. Only red. With nought a thought for the propriety of the situation, he seems to have that effect quite often doesn’t he, she reached to her back and unsheathed the two blades holstered there. 

Then finally, with a Valyrian shortsword in each hand, she turned and looked the Blackwood in the eye.

“To first blood then?” she asked, tone as mild as if she was asking about the weather. 

“To first blood,” he confirmed, eyes gleaming. And he attacked.

He was an explosion given form. A savage whirl of motion and violence, seemingly without end and tireless. It was a hacking, slashing, sort of style— unpredictable, but not so crass as to be reckless. The movements had a deceptive sort of tightness to them: where it appeared at a glance that such rabid fervor might leave his flanks open; he was guarded and compact. 

All this, Visenya gleaned as she danced circles round his brutal strikes. She parried and sidestepped, studying his every movement like a cat might watch a bird. He was a force, made for chaos and to mow down men in great swathes. But she was finely tuned, a crafted blade made for precision. 

He was good, that much was sure. But Father is better. 

She waited until his left foot turned out slightly, as she had noticed it did when he lunged two handedly, and with a swift precise kick she knocked him flat on his back. Between one blink and the next, she had a boot on his chest and her two blades crossed at his throat. 

There was a moment of utter silence again. Before the camp began their raucous applause. The men were shouting her name, her house words, roaring their approval, but she had eyes only for one. 

Ben, his head in the dirt, smiled. A real, genuine, one, not a sneer or smirk. She did her best to remain stoic even as she felt her own smugness tug at her lips. She picked her boot off his chest and pulled her swords from their position, transferring them into one hand so she might offer the other to him. 

He took it, and did not let go as he stood up. Instead, he raised it to his lips and bowed, his dark searing gaze never leaving hers as he, slowly, imploringly, kissed the back of her hand. 

Seven hells. Visenya suppressed a shiver. She could not tell whether she was still angry or wanted to laugh. She forced herself to recover quickly.

“You have a boot-print on your shirt, my lord,” she teased. Then she promptly turned around and looked at the gathered spectators to call,

“Since the situation has arisen, is there any other who would challenge a duel?” She turned in a circle, watching some soldiers jostle each other forward and others shy away. 

“Good Ser Tully,” she addressed, “perhaps a knight can make a better showing on behalf of the Riverlands.” 

The knight laughed humbly and stepped forward, “I can certainly try my lady.”

—

Visenya sparred with four men, challengers each from different houses. She remained for the better part of the day, offering advice, comparing strategy, and watching other matches. As the sun fell low in the sky, the group finally dispersed. As she made her way back to her tent, she felt a familiar presence step into stride with her. She did not look at Ben as she asked,

“Are you so troubled that you must resort to insulting me the moment another man dares to exist in my presence?”

“No, my lady” he protested, trying to make light of the situation, though he did appear slightly chastened. “Twas simply a ruse so that I might kiss you. I thought you might find it amusing.”

“Amusing? Amusing that you have so loudly begun a pissing contest with the Warden of the North?” she questioned incredulously, temper rising again. She stopped walking and turned to face him. 

Men, she thought angrily, never consider the consequences of their impulses. She felt all her worries about being respected arise within her like a great wave.

“I—” he began, but was swiftly cut off. 

“I will remind you Lord Blackwood, that my mother the Queen has final jurisdiction in the matter of my hand. And she has not yet even heard word of your proposal let alone deigned to consider it,” Visenya bit out, anger giving way to something more like distress. 

She heaved a shaky breath and took a moment to collect herself. He looked thoroughly chastened now. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her stoicism about her again, declaring,

“Should you presume to mock me publicly again, Raventree Hall will find it has urgent need for its liege Lord to return from his time abroad.”

With that, she turned to stomp away but was halted by a firm hand at her wrist. Turning viciously, she began, “You dare—” 

“Did you speak truly?” Ben asked, voice uncharacteristically timid. “That you regret it?”

She was stricken into silence. He has a habit of surprising me, doesn’t he? Emotions warred within her, crashing against one another like the Narrow Sea. But thinking about his smile today, with her blade to his throat, she could not find it within herself to lie. So she simply shook her head no. 

The Blackwood let a breath out through his nose, like he had been holding it, and pressed a quick hand to her face. His thumb flitted over her cheek once, an echo of his roaming pulling hands. For the briefest of moments, Visenya allowed herself to close her eyes and press her face into his palm. 

“My mother is depending on me,” she whispered, a confession she did not intend to let escape. “I cannot fail her.” 

“I understand,” he replied simply, voice also hushed. 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. A long tender beat. Two. 

When he pulled away, the look in Benjicot Blackwood’s eyes was something close to grim determination. He backed away and strode into the night, cloaked in purpose.

—

A/N: okay so turns out that was just some random blackwood but we are going to ignore that and continue in the delusion bc its fun

[slayingfiction]

List of 400+ Dialogue Tags

Below is a full (but not exhaustive) and updated list of dialogue tags. Dialogue tags are a widely debated topic for writers, some saying you should only use said, others arguing the opposite. You will get no opinion for me—only a list to use as you wish :D

Some words may differ in categories based on context.

Expressing Agreement or Confirmation

Acknowledged, Admitted, Affirmed, Agreed, Apologized, Confirmed, Conceded, Gibed, Professed, Reassured, Verified, Vouched

Initiating or Continuing Conversation

Added, Began, Chimed In, Commented, Continued, Conversed, Discussed, Elaborated, Greeted, Interjected, Offered, Proposed, Remarked, Went On

Making a Declaration or Announcement

Announced, Attested, Declared, Decreed, Emphasized, Enunciated, Proclaimed, Revealed, Stated, Voiced

Formal or Deliberate Communication

Chanted, Concurred, Observed, Postulated, Preached, Put Forth, Reasoned, Surmised, Testified

Indirect Communication 

Digressed, Hinted, Implied, Insinuated 

Providing Information, Explanation or Speculation

Alleged, Articulated, Asserted, Clarified, Doubted, Equivocated, Explained, Guessed, Imparted, Informed, Lectured, Noted, Predicted, Quoted, Recited, Reported, Theorized

Expressing Doubt or Uncertainty

Doubted, Faltered, Guessed, Hesitated, Pondered, Questioned, Speculated, Wondered, Ventured

Seeking or Giving Advice

Advised, Coaxed, Proposed, Recommended, Remonstrated, Suggested, Supposed, Urged

Animalistic

Barked, Croaked, Growled, Hissed, Hooted, Howled, Hummed, Roared, Snarled 

Expressing Discontent or Frustration

Complained, Fretted, Grumbled, Protested, Ranted

Demonstrating Authority or Command

Avowed, Commanded, Crowed, Decided, Demanded, Dictated, Directed, Insisted, Instructed, Maintained, Ordered, Pressed, Proclaimed, Reprimanded

Displaying Confidence or Assertiveness

Asserted, Assured, Boasted, Bragged, Claimed, Piped Up, Pledged, Spoke Up, Told, Vowed

Exhibiting Anger or Aggression

Accused, Bristled, Challenged, Cursed, Erupted, Exasperated, Fumed, Groaned, Huffed, Raged, Seethed, Snapped, Spat, Stormed, Swore, Threatened, Whinged

Displaying Sadness or Despair

Anguished, Bawled, Bemoaned, Blubbered, Cried, Despaired, Grieved, Lamented, Mourned, Sobbed, Wept, Whimpered, Worried

Persuasiveness 

Appealed, Begged, Cajoled, Convinced, Persuaded, Petitioned, Pleaded, Prayed

Conveying Fear or Worry

Cautioned, Entreated, Gasped, Quaked, Shuddered, Stressed, Trembled, Warned

Softly or Quietly

Breathed, Called, Crooned, Murmured, Mumbled, Muttered, Sighed, Whispered

Loudly or Forcefully

Bellowed, Boomed, Cried Out, Hollered, Screamed, Screeched, Shouted, Shrieked, Thundered, Wailed, Whooped, Yelled

Demonstrating Disgust or Disdain

Cringed, Gagged, Griped, Groused, Rasped, Scowled, Sneered, Snorted

Expressing Mockery, Disrespect or Sarcasm

Dared, Imitated, Insulted, Jeered, Mimicked, Mocked, Ribbed, Ridiculed, Scoffed, Snickered, Taunted 

Doing Annoyingly

Gloated, Goaded, Nagged, Pestered, Provoked, Sassed, Tattled

Emotional or Expressive Communication

Grunted, Mewled, Panted, Quavered, Sniffled, Snivelled, Squawked, Whined, Yowled

Showing Empathy or Comfort

Comforted, Consoled, Empathized, Soothed, Sympathized

Indicating Thoughtfulness or Reflection

Contemplated, Echoed, Mused, Pondered, Recalled, Reflected, Remembered, Reminded, Reminisced, Retorted, Reiterated

Expressing Humour or Amusement

Cackled, Chirped, Chuckled, Giggled, Guffawed, Jested, Joked, Laughed, Quipped

Revealing Information

Confessed, Confided, Divulged, Disclosed, Expressed, Hinted, Revealed, Shared, Spilled, Uttered

In a Flirtatious Way

Bantered, Cooed, Flirted, Joshed, Moaned, Purred, Teased

Demonstrating Surprise or Astonishment

Gasped, Marvelled, Yelped

Indicating Hesitation or Reluctance

Faltered, Hesitated, Stammered, Stuttered

Engaging in a Dispute or Argument

Argued, Bargained, Bickered, Contended, Debated, Disputed, Negotiates, Objected, Rebutted, Shot Back

Showing Enthusiasm or Excitement

Beamed, Blurted, Cheered, Exclaimed, Gushed, Raved, Rejoiced, Sang, Squealed, Trumpeted

Expressing Approval or Praise

Applauded, Complimented, Encouraged, Exhorted, Extolled, Lauded, Praised

Speaking in a Continuous or Repetitive Manner

Babbled, Chattered, Jabbered, Rambled, Rattled On, Repeated

Questions and Answers

Answered, Asked, Cross-examined, Inquired, Implored, Probed. Prodded, Prompted, Queried, Questioned, Quizzed, Requested

Expressing Criticism or Disagreement

Challenged, Chastised, Chided, Condemned, Corrected, Countered, Criticized, Deflected, Demurred, Denounced, Scolded

Negative or Deceptive Communication

Denied, Droned, Exaggerated, Interrupted, Lied

Finishing the Conversation 

Concluded, Finished, Thanked

Neutral or Miscellaneous

Admired, Consented, Foretold, Invited, Mentioned, Mouthed, Pointed Out, Replied, Said, Sputtered, Volunteered

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Happy Writing!