#Every time I learn more about him I am more honored by having known him

[maeamian]

I like our moon! As a kid I loved that we could see it during the day

I saw it during the day today! As a long time mutual of this blog, I'm sure you're aware that my grandfather destroyed more moon rocks than anyone else on earth by his extremely likely to be correct measures. What you may not know is that of those moon rocks, the one he got from Apollo 11 had been flipped over during the landing, something that he was able to demonstrate because the supposed 'up' side was significantly more shielded!

Here's a photo from the surface of the moon and the Vikram lander, as taken by the Pragyan rover, both from the Chandrayaan-3 mission as a shot out to Devendra Lal, a titan of Indian geophysics and a close friend of his:

[stayinlimbo]

Wait For Your Love

pairing: lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, second love (kinda), fluff, minor angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of a previous relationship, brief descriptions of heartbreak, so much pining omg, college-aged, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.21k note:  i am proud i finished this one ngl. thank you @hwangism143 for giving me confidence. i'm not too sure how much i like this fic because it wrote itself but i hope you all still enjoy ♡

If there is anything Minho has learned about you in the years he’s known you, it’s that you’re not subtle. 

It’s something that’s never seemed to bother you, even after he pointed it out once during your shared lecture class, voice tinged with exasperation as you ogled at the upperclassman you’d been making heart eyes at for the nth time that week. You wear your heart on your sleeve like a badge of honor, displayed proudly for the entire world to see. 

Minho has witnessed every emotion be reflected on your face at least once. If asked, he could probably fill a whole book with expressions he didn’t even know were possible until he saw them on you, though the snapshots etched into his memory could never perfectly capture the art of facial contortion you’ve mastered. 

Your open nature was evident from the beginning. He can still picture the bright grin you gave him when you occupied the desk next to his on the first day of high school. The feel of your gaze flickering towards his seated form and the light bouncing of your knee as the teacher dismissed class made it no surprise when you twisted in your chair to ask for his name and if he’d like to eat lunch with you. 

It’s a curious thing, looking back on it, to see the immediate effect you had on him. Minho truly couldn’t help the pink hues coloring his cheeks as you tested his name on your tongue for the first time, nor the shy smile blossoming on his lips at the way you visibly lit up when he accepted your offer. He didn’t know you, didn’t know why you were so happy, didn’t know what this feeling was deep inside his chest; all he knew was that he really wanted to keep making you smile. 

He likes to think he’s been successful over the years, if the way your head tilts back in laughter at his silly antics and tight grip on his biceps to hold yourself up is anything to go by. It’s an admirable goal his younger self set, though he’s not sure when it shifted from wanting you to be happy to just...wanting you.

He wanted you when he introduced you to his cats for the first time, the gentlest smile playing on his lips at your barely contained excitement as they brushed past your legs. He wanted you when you tried to teach him how to swim, despite the poorly concealed judgmental looks you kept throwing at him when he clung to your shoulders tightly in the shallow water. He wanted you at your best, at your worst, and in all your in-betweens. He wanted to be by your side, even if he couldn’t have you. 

And he was. Minho was there to separate your clammy hands, wrung together by the anxiety flooding through your system, and give them a reassuring squeeze. He watched you take a calming breath, offering him one last nervous smile before walking a few rows over to ask out Chan, the upperclassman you wouldn’t stop gushing about. He offered you two thumbs up and the best smile he could muster as you bounded back to him, hands waving wildly in the air as you fervently spilled the details about how you scored a date on Saturday.

He was there to give the best “guy advice” a man with no relationship experience possibly could and third-wheeled more times than he’d like to admit, because, try as he might, he never was able to say no to you. 

No, Minho never left. If he did, who would be there to comfort you after you and Chan broke up right before his graduation? It didn’t matter that you were failing miserably at hiding your puffy face or eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall as you delved further into what happened. He didn’t care about the tears from your sobs staining his shirt and wetting his neck as he pulled you into his chest or the amount of tissue piled in his trash can. Minho chose to bear your heartbreak, be the anchor you needed because he loved you. He loved you in the way you deserved to be loved. 

He noticed the soft sighs escaping your past lips when he drove past somewhere that reminded you of Chan and the distant, longing look in your eyes when his name was mentioned. He saw your posture straighten, features lighting up slightly with a quiet “thank you” leaving your lips when he offered to bring you coffee every week before your morning class. Minho watched the weight on your shoulders be slightly lifted day by day as you reclaimed and channeled your love into yourself. He witnessed the smile finally reach your eyes, your laughter ringing in the air after he successfully predicted what the characters on the TV screen would say, and he swore he’d never felt prouder in his life.

Minho has learned all your mannerisms and would argue that he knows you better than he knows himself. Yet, there was a gleam in your eyes he’d never seen before when he leaned back on your couch and locked his eyes with yours. The way you quickly redirected your gaze was new too, and you even looked a little... shy. His eyes trailed down to your lap, where you fiddled with your fingers as he grabbed one of your surprisingly sweaty hands in comfort. Oh, it’s warm too. Weird. 

It was weird when you refused to look at him for longer than two seconds when he picked you up for class the next day. He could not figure out why you were biting down on your cheeks to hold back the smile threatening to break out any moment, nor did he understand why, two weeks later, your smile directed at him had changed—still radiant and beautiful but somehow softer, more loving.

Why are you looking at him as if you love him? 

You’re not subtle; you never have been. Minho can see it now in the way you’ve found more excuses to hold onto his arm when walking through heavy foot traffic, when you’re scared by the movie he teased you about, when you’re pulling him closer because you’re cold and don’t want to reach for the blanket resting beside your body. He can see your love overflowing in the same way as his, hands itching to intertwine with each other. 

He knows you know about his feelings for you. How could you not, when he can hear your panicky voice reverberating through your apartment’s front door, pacing footsteps creaking the floorboards as you repeatedly question one of your other friends about how you should ask him out? He really hopes the catch in his breath wasn’t too audible.

Minho doesn’t mind waiting; he’d wait forever if he had to. But it doesn’t look like he’ll have to wait for long, not when your hope-filled determination paired with a wide-eyed stare pierces his heart and soul as you wrench the door open and usher him through the entryway.  

And if he didn’t leave until the next morning, hand intertwined with yours as he dragged you to the nearest coffee shop, well, that wasn’t anyone else’s business.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn @inlovewithstraykids @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

[therealcocoshady]

Marshall being a boy dad ?? 👀👀

MARSHALL MATHERS BEING A BOY DAD HEADCANON

Author's Note : I love receiving requests for fics & HCs ❤️ You can definitely keep sending them my way 👀! Also to give you guys a quick update on Recovery : Chapter 34 is in the works but I have been working on a few different things for this blog so it's taking a little more time than expected ! 😅 That being said, I have many ideas for this fic and I think I have finally figured out the ending 👀. Going back to this HC, from what I see in my Ask, you guys are suckers for the whole Marshall Mathers being a Dad trope and I cannot blame you 🙊. Here I am, sharing what I think he would be like, being a boy dad - Let me know what you think !!!

This HC is my very own take on Marshall being a boy dad but, just in case you haven't read it - @theboujeestofboujee also wrote something similar that was absolutely adoralble "How He treats Your Son"

BEFORE THE BABY’S BIRTH 

Doesn’t matter if the baby is a boy or a girl : he is a big softie with his little one

After raising three girls, he is really overjoyed to have a son

Before finding out the gender, he swears he doesn’t care « As long as the baby is healthy, it doesn’t matter » 

BUT once he knows he is having a son ? So happy. 

He wasn’t really in a baby clothes frenzy for his daughters but for his son ? He might get a little carried away. 

His little one is definitely getting some cool baby sneakers and cute outfits 

Contrary to what a lot of people think and expect : he does NOT name his son Marshall Bruce Mathers IV 

He doesn’t want to pay homage to his own father 

He is not an egomaniac 

He doesn’t want his boy to be crushed by the weight of expectations - he knows it’s going to be hard enough when people know he is Eminem’s son 

For privacy reason, his son might use his mother’s name on a daily basis (just like his daughters went by Scott) 

Baby boy’s middle name might be Deshaun, in honor of Proof - one of the best men he has ever known 

Either Denaun or Royce is his son’s godfather 

BIRTH / AFTER THE BIRTH 

He takes time off before the end of the pregnancy - doesn't matter if he has to postpone a tour or an album : family first

Wouldn’t miss his son’s birth for the world 

He is happy his son takes a bit after him. But even more if he looks like his mother.

« Thank God he has your nose » 

OR « Jesus Christ… He has my ears. » 

He announces he is a Dad for the 4th time but he is intent on protecting his baby’s privacy - he has definitely learned a few lessons 

May not even do the announcement before the baby is a few months old 

Do not expect him to share pictures of his son on social media - NOT HAPPENING

At most, he will share a picture of the baby's hand for the announcement and that's it

Definitely takes time to enjoy life with his newborn son and the baby’s mother 

Every second he spends with his newborn baby fills him with joy 

He doesn’t mind doing the late night feedings or being on diaper duty 

He gets his son’s name tattooed on him soon after the birth 

Might not be somewhere too visible, though, especially is he chooses not to share his son’s name publicly 

If someone leaks any information about his son, he will lose his shit 

He usually doesn’t care if a paparazzi snaps a picture of him but his son ? That pap is in big trouble indeed 

In interviews, he refuses to answer questions about his family. The most a journalist will get from him about his son is : "Yeah, he's doing great" or "It's fun being a boy dad"

GROWING UP 

Just like with Alaina, Hailie and Stevie, he is adamant on teaching his son some good manners. No big difference there

However, he tends to be a little more strict with his son - because he knows what being a boy is like

That being said, he’s not much of a disciplinarian 

As long as his kids behave well and do well in school, he is pretty lenient 

Especially when he sees so much of himself in his son 

He loves his kids equally but he has a soft spot for his son because a) he is the youngest and his last child b) he is the only boy in the family, besides himself

He is a fun dad and he loves doing stuff with his children

Just like with his daughters, he makes it a point to be there for every important moment 

He does not doubt his wife/girlfriend/baby’s mother’s ability when it comes to parenting but he wants his son to have a good, strong male presence in his life 

He also pressures himself on being a good role model 

Definitely a stressed out Dad - not when his son is a baby (diapers and bottle feeding are the easy part) but more as he grows up. He constantly worries about setting up a good example for his baby boy. 

His son better respect women. He won’t have it any other way. 

He leads by example : he treats his baby’s mother very well, same goes for his daughters (obviously)

When he grows up, he has to have the « just because Dad says some stuff in his songs doesn’t mean it’s true » conversation with his son. 

The « no swearing » rule is still very much in place 

And if his son ever calls a woman a colorful name or disrespects a girl in front if him ? He is in BIG trouble. 

He teaches his son to respect everyone and makes sure his boy is polite from a very young age

He also makes sure his son knows not to take any disrespect. He teaches him that violence does not solve any issue but he will not have his son be bullied like he was.

He would not force his son to practice any activity he doesn’t want to

If his son wants to do ballet, he will show up to every recital and be the proudest Dad in the room - same goes for any other sport or artistic pursuit 

But hopefully he can share his passion of either Football or Basketball with his boy 

Baby boy sees his first Lions and Pistons game at a young age - doesn’t understand a thing but Marshall is too happy anyway 

What do you think ? What would you add ? 👀

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

It's funny to watch you insist all the time you're not into L*ona and J‐Word and then roughly every 6 months you stage a takeover of the Sebek-Zigvolt-Defenders-Club and loudly and proudly proclaim he's the best boy actually and we should all love him.

In all seriousness, it was your thoughtful analyses that changed my mind about Sebek some months ago and I now also preach the good word about him. He's so loud and dumb and silly and I cry when we get more of his lore and personality revealed, so you're doing great work soldier 🫡

(P.S. Is this confirmation of the list of your favorite first, second, and third year? Two secretive schemers known for taking advantage of people and one tall, loud, loving croc boy with a big ol' heart😏)

[My two big Sebek analysis posts: here and here! Other Sebek analysis can be found in this masterlist.]

I insist I'm not into J word and L*ona because I am, in fact, not into them :) Trust, trust. I cannot tell a lie :))

IS IT REALLY EVERY 6 MONTHS... If so, that's totally unintentional on my part 😂 If I put out a Sebek analysis, it's because there was an ask about him or there's been new official Twst content that I want to scream and shout about. Between Sebek, Jade, and Leona, I feel that Sebek is definitely the most easily understood and most disliked one, especially from the get-go. General opinion of him seems to have improved considerably thanks to book 7, but to this day I still remember the visceral hate he received because he was labelled a racist or loud or an ass-kisser or having no personality outside of liking Malleus. It was sad to see him getting trashed... so I guess I felt like someone had to defend his honor www (And to be clear, it's okay if you dislike Sebek!! Not everyone has to like him. I'm only saying that I don't agree with the opinion that Sebek is a shallow character.)

AAHHABIHFAHSFHQGTG830TQ3P9Nadfhubabyoifam;,; I'm happy that my analyses helped you to see him in a new light!! Again, Sebek truthers rise up ✊ He's a himbo, but he's OUR himbo...

I'd say that Leona is at the top of the third years for me, yeah. B-BUT NOT BECAUSE I LIKE HIM OR ANYTHING, GOT THAT???? It's mostly because I don't find most of the other third years that appealing to me. Jade faces much stiffer competition, since I like most of the second years. However, he manages to pull ahead of the rest of them by a smidge. It's actually Sebek that's fighting hard to keep the spot of my favorite first year; the other two I really like are Ace and Ortho. Ace fluctuates a lot though... While I do find his bratty personality cute (especially when he's doing vocal impressions of the other characters) and appreciate him having the gall to tell others off (regardless of power or social statuz disparity), I also find him very annoying and immature. So I guess it's actually Sebek versus Ortho, the more solid candidate. I think Ortho's relationship with his older brother is very sweet and, of course, tragic. I also love that he looks so innocent but has a deep capacity for violence (laser beam to the face, anyone?) and a strong curiosity to learn more about what it means to be human.

Assuming that Sebek, Jade, and Leona are my respective favorites of each year though 💀 They’re all freakishly tall and pretty muscular (sliding scale of least muscular J word to most muscular Sebek www)… Two big brains and there there’s just. The baby with brawn.

chsjwvjwjwow I mentioned this to some friends and here’s how that convo went:

THIS WAs 100% UNINTENTIONAL… OTL

[dyns33]

A Silly Dream

Another idiots in love with Morpheus and female reader.

"��� What did you just say ?"

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dream of the Endless wasn't human, and therefore didn't think like a human. He had great difficulty communicating and understanding that there were things he shouldn't say or do if he didn't want to hurt people.

The problem was that even when she remembered that, she also remembered that he was an old being, so normally experienced and wise, the prince of stories and words, who yet kept behaving like a selfish, spoiled child who never learned from his mistakes.

"I just said I couldn't stay long for our meeting."

"No, after that. And, what 'meeting' ? We didn't have an meeting, it was you who came to my place."

"As with Hob Gabling every hundred years, I meet with you once a year, for you to give me your impression of the new dreams and nightmares, and in exchange I let you read an unfinished book from my library. But I am very busy and it will be difficult for me to stay more than an hour today."

He was really telling her that for all this time, more than a hundred years, their relationship was not at all friendly, but hardly professional, a simple obligation, which annoyed him but that he had the kindness to fill in each time ? Oh, Y/N felt really honored at that moment.

"… You're a jerk."

"I beg your pardon ?" wondered Morpheus, visibly very offended.

"I said you're a jerk. It's because of the kiss, right ? It's your way of telling me that I shouldn't have, and that I'm very lucky that you keep coming to see me instead of punishing me ?"

"You know I have to come see you."

"You're a real jerk. Go away, since you're so busy."

His face still impassive, Morpheus stared at her for a long time, as if he still didn't know what he should do, before standing up without saying anything and leaving.

The kiss had been stupid, Y/N agreed to admit it.

It had happened two years ago now, when she had just finished her review of the last nightmare he had created, and Dream was trying to explain to her why she was wrong in her reasoning.

It could have happened much sooner, because her heart had been beating for him and only for him for decades already, but before that day, she had always known how to keep her feelings buried deep inside her.

But this time, without her being able to explain why, while she admired his eyes deep as the ocean, his skin pale as the moon, listening to his lulling voice, Y/N had not thought, and she had kissed him.

Dream of the endless went silent. He had looked at her as if she had just stabbed him, and of course he had left without listening to her excuses, not finishing his sentence, but leaving her a book, because he had only one word.

She had strange dreams after that, where she was in a labyrinth, then in a castle, then in corridors, and always she had the feeling that she was looking for something without really knowing what.

Sometimes she saw Dream, sometimes a cat, and she began to follow him, never being able to catch up with him.

The following year he came back, they didn't talk about what happened, and everything seemed to be back to normal.

It hurt to think that all of this was actually just an obligation for him. Y/N had met Hob several times. She knew that Morpheus was really bad with people, since it had taken him more than half a millennium to admit he had a friend, but she had also heard of his lovers, and so she knew that he was not incapable of feelings.

There had been the secret hope then that he liked her, at least a little. It was over now.

The next year, when he showed up on her doorstep with a book, Y/N wondered if he was more mean than stupid, or the other way around.

"I thought I told you to leave. I know you're terribly busy."

"The competition is indeed quite exhausting, but everyone else has given up for the day."

"Oh, you have a moment for me in your schedule ? Too kind. No, wait, we have a meeting, I forgot. Well, I'm busy. Goodbye."

"You do not want…"

"Bye." she repeated, closing the door in his face without taking the book.

It was the first time she hadn't taken the book. If he wanted to, Dream could have appeared in her apartment, or in her dreams, to scold her and throw the book at her, but he didn't.

Y/N didn't know if she was happy or disappointed.

Meanwhile, the bizarre dreams continued.

This time, she was in the gardens of his castle, in the Dreaming. She knew it, because she had already been there. It was because of this stuff that she felt she was more than an obligation.

There were a lot of people in the gardens, some looking human, some not, and they were all looking for something.

Tired, Y/N decided that this time she didn't feel like running, and she sat down on a bench. A wing sound told her that a little spy had decided to join her.

"They all look ridiculous, don't you think ?"

"I don't know who they are or what they do, but I guess."

"They participate in the competition, of course." Matthew said with a desperate tone. "It's been so long now, what's it been, four years ? Five ? I don't know. Some like you have a point, others are starting to despair a bit. I wish they all despair and stop. The boss is tired."

"… What do you mean by 'I have a point' ?"

"The rules are simple, one kiss, one point. Two kisses, two points. Three kisses, the hand of the Master of dreams. None of them asked for his consent, wicked ones. Neither do you, I'm a bit disappointed, young lady. You're the least bad, but still. He was hurt, that was not good manners."

"Matthew… Matthew, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

The raven looked at her like she was stupid. Then he realized she must be really stupid.

"No… That can't be true ! You two are really the same. Two idiots, you deserve each other ! Idiots ! He was hurt, but happy ! He was waiting for the other kisses during your little dates in the Waking !"

"You're talking about our more or less professional and obligatory meetings that he doesn't have time to go to ?"

"What ? What do you mean by… He said something stupid, right ? Of course he said something stupid. You do stupid things, he says stupid things, when you could just kiss. God damn it ! He was grumpy last year, and sad this year, because he thinks you don't want to compete anymore. But you don't know there's a competition ! And you don't want to see him anymore, not because you don't like him, but because you think he doesn't like you ! Boss ! Boss, you really kill me sometimes !"

Y/N woke up not sure if she had dreamed or not. Of course, she had dreamed, and all dreams were real, but she didn't know if she had talked to Matthew, or if she had dreamed that she was talking to Matthew, which was not the same thing.

In one case, she could continue to hope stupidly. In the other, she was just plain stupid.

She got her answer when she came home from work one evening and found Morpheus on her couch. He looked smaller and more fragile than usual. Tired, as his raven said.

"I thought we already had our meeting this year." she said taking out her jacket, not knowing what she should do, or what he was going to do.

"We didn't. You were busy."

"Ah, yes. That's right. Tea ?"

"No, thank you."

Usually things were very simple. They greeted each other, talked quickly about the past year, then Y/N talked about her dreams and nightmares, saying why she liked them or not.

This time, they said nothing, sitting next to each other. Of course, he had brought a book, placed between them. She didn't know if she should talk about those weird dreams.

It was a new surprise when he spoke first.

"You're near my sister's realm lately."

"Which one ?"

"Despair."

"Oh. How is she ?"

"What do you think ?"

"I don't know, you are not really dreamy yourself. I mean, you are, just when you are not talking. The talking you is a real nightmare. But I meant, how is she, as in is she alright ?"

"I must say that I don't know."

"You should call her to ask, she's your sister. Except if she's a bad sister. I guess it's not my business. How are you ?"

"You never kissed me again. Why ?"

He was back, the child with his big deep eyes, his innocent look and his dangerous words. How could he say such important things without the slightest hesitation ?

Y/N found the courage to meet his gaze after taking a deep breath.

"I don't know. Maybe because you have to come see me, and you clearly didn't like the first time I kissed you."

"I appreciated that. I would have fully appreciated it under other circumstances, but at that moment I thought you were acting like the others, in order to win the competition."

Matthew wasn't wrong, they were both a bit stupid, and mostly unlucky. All of this was mainly a problem of bad timing, and communication. If Y/N had acted sooner, and if Morpheus had known how to talk, there would never have been any problems.

"Following your entry into the competition, I am obliged to join you, in order to give you a chance to steal two more kisses from me, under the same conditions as the first. All the others who succeeded having it done in the Dreaming, I do not have to meet them elsewhere."

"… So you've been obliged for two years. But before too, since you impose one meeting per year."

"I told you, I'm very busy. I wanted to make sure I can see you at least once, as much as possible, so it seemed safer to set a specific date."

Damn, he was a jerk. A lovely jerk, a sweet idiot, a pleasant fool.

"And so… You want to kiss me ?"

"I'm not allowed to give kisses, you have to take them. It's the rule."

"I don't like that rule. I didn't kiss you for that, I should have asked your permission, and I'm not going to do it again, that's wrong."

"So you don't want to kiss me." he whispered, looking disappointed.

"I don't wish to force you. I won't steal another kiss."

"You could ask me."

"And would that change anything ?"

"I can't give kisses, but I can give you permission."

During their little conversation, Matthew had been very clear, clear as he always was and much more than his boss who gave him a headache. Silently, for three years, Morpheus had been patiently waiting for Y/N to kiss him again, silently giving her his consent.

He had been too proud or too stupid to understand that he had to verbalize such things.

"Morpheus, I love you very much and I don't care about this competition, can I kiss you ?"

"You can." he sighed with relief and what looked like a smile.

This kiss was much nicer than the first. Probably because it had been desired for more than two years now. Y/N would have liked it to last forever.

"And… For the third one ? Do I have to wait until next year ?" she asked nervously, keeping her hands on his shoulders, thinking he would leave as soon as she let go.

"You can take as many kisses as you want, my love. You can take everything you want."

"Dream… My Dream…"

It was difficult to know what happened in the Dreaming at this moment. No doubt that Lucienne and Matthew announced to the other participants that they could leave because they had lost. Then the wedding planning began.

Y/N hadn't thought about marriage. She had only thought about Morpheus, silly Morpheus, and all the love she had for him. They would need to discuss all of this. But right now, she was too busy kissing him again and again, and him not devouring her with his endless passion.

"I'm glad it's you." he whispered against her lips. "I have to go now. We'll see each other tonight, I'll wait for you."

Being a man of his word, he left a book on the sofa before disappearing. A love story with a happy ending, maybe because he knew they would be fine, or just because he hoped they would.

Y/N read it before going to sleep to join her future kingdom, and her stupid prince of dreams.

[addaerontruther]

hello!! i must admit i have not heard much about addaeron ship but i am increasingly curious!! would you mind sharing what it’s all about perhaps i’ll join the club

PLEASE JOIN OUR CLUB!! Sorry this took me so long to answer, but I knew it was going to turn into a dissertation and I was right. HOPE IT'S AT LEAST A GOOD READ!

It starts with Daeron being sent to Oldtown. At this point in the story, he's the only Targaryen, ever, to be sent to ward. He's at the center of the anti-Valyrian club with no one around that looks like him or understands where he comes from. He was a Targaryen prince with a pretty dragon in a city notorious for hating Targaryen's and dragons — which would've been hard enough, without the differing races & customs, considering his sexual identity. He was a baby gay of 12 when he was sent to Westeros's Vatican.

Cue: Addam of Hull, shiphand to his mother, Marilda, constantly working on one voyage or another. The biggest port in Westeros is King's Landing, right near Driftmark, but the second biggest port is Oldtown. My theory, and most other shippers, is that this is where they met. I like to think Daeron and Addam met by chance on the docks, and Daeron decided to take a closer look because he was the first person he'd seen in Oldtown with the silver hair and purple eyes that signaled Valyrian heritage. Once they actually met, and talked, the connection was instantaneous.

I believe Daeron fought it at first, and tried to just keep him as a friend, but the more time they spent together, the harder it became. Addam ultimately made the first move, but from the moment he did, Daeron was all in. They both were, really.

They spent the next few years falling in love and having their moments when they could. Daeron took him flying on Tessarion whenever he was able, and Addam loved both dragon's. When Mouse (Addam's mother's ship if you're unfamiliar) was docked in Oldtown, they were together every single second possible. When they weren't, they sent letters back and forth through other shipwrights moving between them, but that was rare for fear of being found out. Mostly they just spent their time apart wishing they were together.

And then the war started, and Addam was no longer able to visit Oldtown. They were unable to send any messages back and forth, but Daeron had anticipated this day and made the decision long ago that there was only one person in his life worth fighting for, and it was not the Greens. When Ormund set out with his army, Daeron stayed put; thus Ormund begging King's Landing for a dragon despite his squire having one.

When the Red Sowing happened and Corlys came to Addam and Alyn, Addam saw an opportunity to rise up to a level where he, a bastard, would be good enough for a prince — a dragon prince at that — and give himself a chance to earn amnesty for his lover. Having learned High Valyrian commands from his time with Daeron and Tessarion, Addam succeeded where Alyn failed, and claimed Seasmoke.

After the Gullet, Addam and Corlys had a conversation that not even Mushroom reports on; I believe this is when he confessed to his grandfather, now hand of the Queen, that he loved Daeron, and would fight as hard as he could as long as he could, but he needed Daeron to live.

Unfortunately, Daeron did not get that memo. He heard a bastard from Driftmark named Addam claimed the dragon of the late Laenor Velaryon, and that was enough. Addam actively fighting for the enemy on dragonback meant he was now on Aemond (long since Prince Regent at this point) and Vhagar's radar. So, he climbed onto Tessarion's back, and joined the war himself.

His victories were all honorable and/or bloodless for a long time. He was, mostly, used for intimidation and scouting. And then Maelor was ripped apart by the smallfolk after Lady Caswell barred her gates to him, and the rage and stress and pressure bested Daeron, and he sacked the city so hard they renamed it Bitterbridge (previously known as Stonebridge).

Despite this, Corlys still tries to spare Daeron. He asks Rhaenyra to let him live, but she refuses, sends Hugh and Ulf on Vermithor and Silverwing to kill him, and asks Addam to stay in King's Landing to protect her and her sons.

Things don't go as she planned, of course. Hugh and Ulf join Daeron rather than fight him, and Rhaenyra, understandably, unravels. Mysaria convinces her that Daemon betrayed her for love, and then she decides that Addam, too, is a traitor, and should be sharply questioned to prove his innocence... something that is, more often than not, fatal in Westeros. Her having such a strong and immediate change of opinion in him after these betrayals makes a lot more sense if you believe she knew he loved Daeron and feared he had something to do with Ulf/Hugh and/or would betray her alongside them.

Addam was no traitor, even if the love of his life had, as far as he knew, lost his damned mind. Addam had no way to know Daeron hated the betrayers and was actively planning their deaths to rid himself of them despite their extra fire power changing the tides of the war, or that he hadn't actually been involved in the carnage of First Tumbleton, or that he had, in fact, begged the Hightower in charge to make it stop.

So, Addam raised an army and turned it to fight Daeron. The actual killing of his lover was the first thing he did when he got to Tumbleton, because he knew he would never be able to do what he had to do if he saw him. Despite setting the tents on fire, he still turned towards Tessarion the second she "took to the skies, shrieking and spitting flame." I believe he wanted to see if Daeron was on her back, and that was why he kept spinning around her on Seasmoke in the beginning.

Once he saw her saddle was empty, he knew his mission succeeded, and he lost all heart. Tessarion was riderless and had a taste for blood, yet he couldn't get himself to make a fatal attack... or attack at all, really. This was Daeron's dragon. A dragon Daeron had his whole life, the only friend he had in Oldtown when Addam was gone, and a dragon Addam himself was familiar with and loved dearly. He couldn't do it.

Tessarion couldn't do it either. Daeron might be dead, but he was still her only rider ever. She could still feel him, his loves and hates, and she couldn't get herself to hurt Addam or Seasmoke. When Vermithor started getting too close, she left.

But Addam and Seasmoke didn't. They slammed into Vermithor, a dragon twice their size, in what could only be a suicide mission, and Addam proceeded to attempt to eliminate Jaehaerys's creature (derogatory).

He would've failed, and who knows what carnage Vermithor would've inflicted after, if Tessarion hadn't come back. There was no reason for it. Daeron was dead, not forcing her to do this. But Daeron was dead, and Addam was the thing on earth he loved most. She slammed into them, and it became Seasmoke, Addam, and Tessarion against Vermithor.

Ultimately, Addam died in the same field where he killed Daeron, alongside his dragon. Tessarion, the smallest dragon of fighting size in the entire war, one third of Vermithor's size, avenged them. She was not in good shape after and bitch ass Benji Blackwood had her put out of her misery, but she, ultimately, killed herself in an attempt to protect, and then avenge, the man her rider loved.

It's worth noting that Silverwing was also present at this battle, and her and Vermithor had been mated for around 100 years at that point. She, too, was riderless, and she did nothing to help him. She actually said fuck all that and flew away. Tessarion and Seasmoke may have known each other as hatchlings (and I believe they did/they were both Meleys's children), but we know Vermithor and Silverwing did. We know they had a bond. And yet they did nothing to help each other.

Tessarion didn't mate with Seasmoke for no reason. She didn't kill herself trying to help him and Addam for no reason. Daeron and Addam loved each other so much that even in death, Daeron's dragon, who had seen them fall in love and felt it right alongside Daeron, still felt it, and gave her life trying to preserve it.

TLDR; their relationship explains 75,000 plot holes for them both and George couldn't have made it more obvious, in my humble opinion. It's about love, and youth, and war, and two boys that felt alone for much of their lives being together even in death.

[yuurei20]

Heya, I hope you're doing alright! I love your content and since it's so neat and you point out many amazing stuff, I thought I could try asking you! I was wondering something concerning the overblots as I don't specifically remember reading about it, so sorry if my question is a bit dumb! I was wondering if it was "common" knowledge that the overblot happened or if it's only the students that were present that know about it? like for example would a random person from Diasomnia know of Riddle's overblot? I never paid attention but now it's eating away at my brain haha!

Hello hello! Thank you for the question!! You are too kind! ♡

I think that most information may come from Book 6! The overblotters are kidnapped by STYX "a few days" after Vil's overblot, and Ruggie seems surprised to learn that Vil had overblotted at all.

But Cater lists off every person who was kidnapped/had overblotted, and Ruggie isn't surprised about anyone but Vil.

Vil also had one of the more contained overblots, as the coliseum had been enveloped in a "cursed poison mist" of his own making at the time.

It is possible that the NRC Tribe had been trying to keep Vil's incident as secret as possible as they were the only ones who witnessed it (with Malleus hearing about it afterwards).

It may be common knowledge at the school now, though, if the reason why he was kidnapped was made public.

Idia had another one of the more contained overblots, and as of this post I am not sure who, if anyone, at the school (outside of those who witnessed it) might be aware!

He mentions how people all over the world will be holding him accountable "as the mastermind of this whole incident," and while it's possible that his overblot ended up being included in the information that was released to the public as part of the explanation of the drama at STYX, I'm not sure it has been confirmed in-game at the moment.

The first four overblots were fairly public affairs with Riddle, Leona, Azul and Jamil all overblotting in front of many members of their own dorm, so those happenings are possibly more well-known than Vil and Idia?

We get more detail into Riddle's post-overblot-situation in the novel, where he describes having to suffer from the judgement of those around him every day, ever since:

"When Riddle enters the Mirror Chamber, the other dorm leaders cast open and obvious glances his way. It has been like this ever since that day."

"And he feels stares everywhere he goes. Looks of awe, curiosity, and scorn. A mage who lost himself to anger, to the point of overblotting.

A tyrant, abandoned by his dormmates.

A former honor student who has brought an unprecedented scandal upon their prestigious magic school.

The whispers are always filled with words that wound Riddle's lofty self-esteem, all of them true. And they torment him every day."

In summary! Riddle, Leona, Azul and Jamil's incidents do not seem to be particularly secret, while Vil's has possibly been belatedly revealed and Idia's might possibly be between himself and the other overblotters, but possibly revealed publicly in the aftermath of Book 6 (unconfirmed in game)!

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Role Reversal

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3.2k

Summary: Y/n is the mob boss 😎.

A/N: Anon Request: Can you write a Silver Springs au where reader is the MOB leader and Wanda is the civilian one? Update, I’m finally home!! My dogs didn’t miss me really, and I am too tired to write tonight, but I will start tomorrow with the requests. Enjoy!

Warnings: none

Wanda smiles as she takes a deep breath and basks in the wonderful smells that surround her. She’s in her kitchen cooking and in that moment, she realizes this is one of her favorite places to be. She’d rank it third probably, and she’s grateful that she gets to do this every day. She’s the owner and executive chef of a restaurant downtown that she’d opened with her brother close to a decade ago. It catered to anyone who wanted a home-cooked Eastern European meal. After fleeing her country with her brother at a young age when her parents died, she’d been desperate to find a way to honor them.

She remembered her time in the kitchen with her mother fondly and it was with her that she’d learned to love cooking. Despite not being able to bring much of anything with them, Wanda had managed to bring the old shoebox that held all of her mother’s recipes in them. She remembered how daunting it was moving to America and only having her brother with her. They were poor and desperate for money, and they had lived in and out of shelters and on the streets for months.

It wasn’t until Pietro made a risky decision to get involved with the mob that things started to turn around. He started to make money, and despite not telling his sister how she had grown suspicious relatively quickly. She’d managed to get a job of her own while looking for a place for them to live.

Three months later, they were off the streets and making enough money to start saving. Wanda struggled to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, and it was one night when she’d been cooking to cheer herself up that her brother suggested she open a restaurant. She’d laughed at this and told him that there was no way she could do that. She didn’t know the first thing about running a restaurant. She was barely working in one as it is. She felt like she was just being run ragged as a waitress and wasn’t really learning much other than that drunk college-aged men tipped poorly.

The next week, Pietro had signed her up for business courses at the local university. They’d gotten into their first fight since arriving to America about this because Wanda was scared. She didn’t want to fail at something that could mean so much to her. She’d love to open a restaurant and be able to cook what their mother had taught her every day. That said, she was afraid that if she failed at this, she would fail her mother as well.

It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Wanda went to school, continued to gain experience at a better restaurant job, and 5 years later she and Pietro were able to get a loan to start their own restaurant.

Then Wanda had met you.

One night Pietro had come home from his job hurt really badly and Wanda had freaked out. She’d known that his job was a little risky, he’d told her that he worked security for various night clubs and businesses, but nothing like this had ever happened. He’d been shot through and through in the arm and someone had gotten a few good punches in before back up had arrived.

Wanda had interrogated her brother for nearly an hour before he finally cracked and told her that he didn’t work security. Well, he did, but he was more personal security for one of the city’s most infamous criminals. Wanda hadn’t reacted immediately because she’d honestly been waiting for her brother to smile and tell her that he was just kidding. When this didn’t happen she started screaming at him.

This ordeal unfortunately led to Wanda making a very bad decision that involved following her brother one night when he left for work. She’d followed him downtown to a secluded area near the docks where a group of people were waiting for him. She’d nearly been shot when she accidentally tripped over some old shipping crates, and her embarrassing squeal gave away her location quickly.

She’d thrown her hands up immediately because she hadn’t known what else to do. This group of four men and one women were all armed with guns, and the woman who Wanda realized quickly was the boss had two dogs beside her that she feared almost more than the guns.

“Who might you be?”

Wanda still remembers to this day how your voice had caused a shiver to run up her spine. She hadn’t been able to see you very well in the dark, but she could see you smiling at her as one of your henchmen dragged her towards you. Wanda didn’t even get a chance to respond before Pietro recognized her and cursed in surprise. He’d been pissed at her and told her to go home, but you’d simply shaken your head and told him to take her home himself. He wasn’t needed tonight.

After that disastrous night, Pietro had thought he’d lost his job and Wanda had felt horrible about it. She only had the night to worry about money and how this would affect them when she woke up the next morning to a knock on the door. Pietro was still asleep and after looking through the peephole and not seeing anyone, Wanda opened the door to find a huge bouquet of flowers in a vase on the welcome mat.

Sorry for almost shooting you.

You’d signed your name and Wanda had immediately taken the flowers and set them on the counter. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with them, but they were very pretty and it was very unexpected for you to send them. When Pietro woke up, his sister was sitting at the counter on her computer looking into the mob boss that had almost shot her last night.

Wanda was still a little dazed when she ran into you again and you’d been just as apologetic as your note. Wanda had somehow convinced you that it was fine and from there something unexpected happened. She’d start to see you more, and eventually the two of you were almost friends. You only hung out when you weren’t busy which wasn’t often, but you’d given the brunette your phone number and told her to text you if she ever got bored.

You and Wanda started dating around the time that you fired Pietro. You’d told him that he’d still get paid, but you didn’t want him on your security team anymore. You were always at risk and therefore so were the people around you. You didn’t want Wanda to lose her brother because someone wanted to try and kill you. Pietro had been a little ticked and this only worsened when he realized that you were interested in his sister. Wanda had been touched and she’d kissed you for the first time only a week later.

Now, nearly a decade has passed and you and Wanda were married with a 4-year-old daughter. Natalya was a handful and the spitting image of your wife. So much so that it weirded you out sometimes, but you loved your family and you hated when you were away from them for even a minute.

You’re busy at work tonight and had left Natalya with her favorite uncle until Wanda was home. You’d already told her that you would be late, and given that she’d been married to you for so long she realized that this meant not to wait up. She’d finish up her shift at 6 and take their daughter home for dinner and then bedtime. The sound of the kitchen door opening and little feet padding across the floor made Wanda smile before she even turned around.

“Mommy!”

A small body slammed into her legs and she couldn’t help but laugh as she turns to see her daughter smiling up at her as she held her tightly.

“Hi there little one. Did you have a good day?”

Natalya, or ‘little Nat’ as you’ve taken to calling her, starts to tell Wanda all about her day at preschool and then her afternoon with her Uncle Pietro.

“He’s gonna teach me to jump out of a ‘copter!”

This is said with the type of excitement that only a child is capable of expressing as said uncle walks into the kitchen to find the wayward brunette. Wanda shoots her brother a look that he just smiles at before shrugging in defeat. He might not get to take his niece skydiving anytime soon now that the cat was out of the bag.  

“Not until you’re older, milaya.”

Little Nat doesn’t have time to complain before her mom is picking her up and showing her what she’s been cooking. She loves how her daughter’s eyes light up in excitement and recognition at one of her favorite dishes. She’d been wanting to help her mom cook as soon as she could hold a spoon, and she knew these dishes well by now.

“Parikash, mommy can I have some?!”

Wanda smiles at her daughter but she shakes her head because this isn’t even close to done. She looks around to the other staff who are trickling in and realizes that her shift is almost up. She pinches Nat’s cheek when she realizes she’s frowning and she tries to cheer her up with promises of food soon.

“Sorry, Natalya this isn’t done, but we can have some of our own at home. What do you say?”

That’s how you find your wife and daughter when you arrive home a couple of hours later. It was an early night for you which you love and hate. Considering the circumstances of your last-minute change of plans you should be in a horrible mood. You might lose out on a lot of money because someone fucked up and was followed to the drop point for an important deal. That said, you could forget about that for now if you just allowed yourself to enjoy one of the rare days you’re home before Natalya’s bedtime.

“Mommy, you’re doing it wrong!”

You watch from the doorway as your daughter catches on quickly to Wanda’s ‘mistake.’ You know that your wife knows this recipe upside down, backwards and sideways, and she’s just testing your daughter to see how she’s learning. You both smile widely when she grabs the correct ingredient and tries to put it into the pot without cutting it. Despite being brilliant – you’re not biased at all, sometimes her enthusiasm causes her to skip important steps.

You blamed this on your wife’s similar excitement when she cooked, but Wanda wanted to pin it on you for some reason.

“Ah you’re right. So smart milaya.”

As you shut the door to the condo that you and Wanda have been living in for five years, the brunette immediately looks up at the sound. You really need to move your family to a larger place because the floor plan makes it near impossible for you to sneak up on anyone.

“Welcome home, detka. You’re early.”

You hear the unasked question but you just shake your head for now as you watch your daughter look up, and then realize that you’re home. She smiles widely and nearly trips twice in her rush to run over to you.

“Mom’s home!”

You hurry to meet her half way so she doesn’t fall on her face, and you let out an exaggerated groan as you lift your daughter up with a smile.

“Hey Little Nat. How was your day?”

Instead of giving you a play by play of events like she had for Wanda earlier, she just hugs you tightly before muttering under her breath. Wanda can’t hear what she says, but when she notices you frown a little she can’t help but wonder.

“You’re here. You’re never here.”

You can’t help but feel stung by the statement despite it being mostly true. You only see your daughter in the mornings since you’re usually out late at night working. You knew she wasn’t oblivious to this and that she was going to miss you, but seeing her so happy to have you here during the day makes you feel like a shitty parent. She’d requested that you watch some television with you while coloring and she would undoubtedly tell you about her day.

You take this time to head over to the kitchen to greet your wife with a tired sigh. She smiles sympathetically at you before meeting your lips for a kiss. When you pull away, Wanda’s shooting you a questioning look.

“How was your day, Y/n?”

You sigh again before shaking your head and muttering something about working with idiots under your breath. Wanda just chuckles at this before watching Natalya run out of her room and start to set out all of her supplies on the coffee table. You aren’t surprised to see what she’s brought and you know that you’re not going to be great at this.

“What about you, love? How was the restaurant today?”

Wanda tells you that work was good, but that she was glad to be home for the night. You agree with her and follow her to the living room when your daughter waves you over. You sit down and prepare to color absentmindedly as you talk to your daughter about her day, but you don’t get a chance to grab a crayon before the brunette shakes her head.

“No, Mom, watch.”

You smile and Wanda laughs as Nat decides she just wants to show you how to do it and she crawls into your lap with a fistful of crayons. You just listen carefully to your daughter tell you how to best color a giant fish. Wanda just watches in amusement as her wife who she is pretty sure still has her gun on her is instructed by their 4-year-old on the art of coloring. You sneak a peek at your wife and shoot her a charming smile.

“Mom you’re not watching!”

You immediately turn back to Nat and refocus on her drawing with a determined look.

“So sorry. Continue please.”

Wanda leaves briefly to check on dinner before she decides to just watch from the kitchen as you continue to humor Nat. You hug her close to you as you bask in the little free time you get with your daughter during the day. You know that your job isn’t ideal at all, not right now or long term. You want to be present for your wife and daughter and you need to try better. You aren’t sure how you could even consider leaving, but if you had the opportunity you had to take it.

As you watch your daughter color her fish like a rainbow you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You’ve always wanted a family, and you weren’t going to half-ass it because that wasn’t fair to anyone. You didn’t want your kids to be surprised when they got to see you twice daily.

You turn around while Nat’s distracted and look to Wanda with a sigh. You’ll have to talk to her about your plan tomorrow. Tonight, you just wanted to enjoy time with your family.

You jerk in surprise and it takes you a minute to realize that you had fallen asleep. You had just come in here to take a quick nap before dinner, and the next thing you know it’s nearly 8 o’clock. You frown as you stand up and try and find your wife. You figured that she was still downstairs since she wasn’t in the bedroom, and your assumption was proven right when you glance over the banister to see her sitting on the couch in front of the television with your two dogs.

“Hey, detka.”

You walk down the stairs quickly before you realize that you truly had missed dinner. It was mostly put away at this point, but you could see that Wanda had made a plate for you. You assumed the dogs were fed, and Boone even jumps off of his blanket to come greet you. Rogue only wags his tail when he sees you before laying his head back down in Wanda’s lap.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

You lean in and kiss her quickly before you steal Boone’s spot with a sigh. You’re exhausted from your day and you aren’t really surprised your nap turned into two hours instead of 15 minutes. You had needed the rest, but you didn’t like missing out on time with your family.

“It’s alright. You needed to sleep.”

You nod before glancing to the television to see what Wanda had been watching. You’re not surprised to see that it’s a nature show, and you turn back to her with a curious look.

“The little one is in bed, I assume?”

Wanda nods because she’d put Natalya to bed almost an hour ago. She’d wanted to stay up and wait for you, but despite her insistence she’d fallen asleep watching the elephants with Wanda on the couch. She’d used Boone as a pillow for most of the time because he was more tolerant of it than Rogue was. The older shepherd couldn’t comfortably accommodate a toddler, but luckily Boone loved to snuggle.

“Yes, she tried to wait for you.”

You smile at this and glance back upstairs as you consider going to kiss your daughter goodnight. You stop short though as you turn to your wife with a smile. She’s not sure what you’re going to say, but she definitely wouldn’t have guessed it no matter how much time you’d given her to think about it.

“While I was napping, I had a weird dream. I was the badass mob boss and you owned a Sokovian restaurant.”

You stand up with a stretch before you head over to the kitchen to grab yourself some dinner before going back to sleep. You know you’ve surprised Wanda because she doesn’t stop you or try to follow you immediately. She’s trying to figure out why you’d have a dream like this after so long. She’d been out of the business since Natalya was born and she’d convinced her brother that retirement had its perks. She wouldn’t be surprised if his new protégé didn’t take over within the next few years.

“You what? Wait, I don’t understand.”

Wanda struggles to stand from the couch because Rogue is dead weight and doesn’t want to move. He grumbles, but Wanda ignores him as she heads to the kitchen to try and get clarification. You don’t offer much as you put your food in the microwave before smiling and heading upstairs.

“Yeah, Little Nat was there and everything. Speaking of…I’m going to go say goodnight. I’ll be back.”

Wanda thinks about stopping you and asking you to tell her everything, but she figures that if it had been anything important you would tell her. She’s curious as to why you’d have this dream, and why you were the one to be a criminal. She doesn’t think about it for much longer as it occurs to her that this might have to do with the role playing from the other night…

 Masterlist

[waltwhitmansbeard]

20. “What were you like before I met you?”

Hmm… let’s make this interesting. Keyleth meeting the Mighty Nein and getting to know them.

20. "What were you like before I met you?" so this happened bc, not for the first time, i read "mighty nein" and saw "bells hells," and, not for the first time, saw "bells hells" and thought "orym." so basically, this in no way resembles the prompt, but it is what i have lol

All of the most important people in the world are leaving, scattering and coalescing into their various war rooms and private councils. The Hells are getting sidelong looks, which Orym can understand; yesterday, they were strangers, interlopers, nobodies—today, they're heroes.

He watches Dorian fall into conversation with his father and tries not to use his keen lip-reading ability to follow every word. He imagines a thousand different ways that conversation could go, but it's up to Dorian to tell him about which one it ended up being, if he wants to. Chetney's been flagged down by one of the Sanctuary's scalebearers, and Orym just has to see the phrase "C-POP" on his lips to know he wants nothing to do with whatever that is. Braius is being reconfronted by Highbearer Vord, but Orym has learned in their scant few hours together that if anyone can lie their way out of trouble, it's Braius Doomseed.

So he takes this moment to find the Voice of the Tempest. He appears at her elbow silently, making the Dwendalian representative she's speaking with jump, but the Tempest doesn't even flinch. "Hello, Orym."

"Tempest." He ducks his head. "Do you have a minute? I don't mean to interrupt."

"Of course." She bids goodbye to the Dwendalian and leads Orym away. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, uh, first I wanted to thank you for those titles, the ones you gave my friends. It...means a lot."

The Tempest snorts ungracefully. "You should have seen the first six drafts." She smiles down at him. "It was my honor, Orym. I know what it is to have the fate of the world on your shoulders. The very least we could do is acknowledge it appropriately."

"What were you like before I met you?" Orym asks.

The Tempest laughs. "Orym, I've known you since you were the size of a housecat."

He flushes. "I know, I mean—what were you like when you were...like me? Part of a group with the fate of the world on its shoulders?"

She drums her fingers thoughtfully along her staff. "Hmm. Well, I was younger," she quips. "More optimistic, I think. Definitely more naive. I really thought that if we tried hard enough, if we cared enough, we could stop all the bad things from happening." She smiles again, this time wryly. "My secret, though, is that most of the time? I still think that way."

Orym's heart sinks a little. "So...you never had any doubt? You just always knew you were going to get the job done?"

The Tempest throws her head back and lets out a barking laugh that draws the attention of the surrounding dignitaries. "Oh, fuck no, are you kidding?" She crouches down then, gets to his eye level in the way that has never once felt to Orym like a parent condescending to a child, but rather someone speaking to their equal. "Orym, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the doubt is there literally all of the time. Even today, putting forth that plan with Vex and Allura, I had no idea how that was going to go, if the others would accept it, if it's even going to work. But the alternative is doing nothing, and I have never been good at that."

"Is that why you're so strong? Because there is no alternative?"

"I am strong, Orym, for the same reason you're strong." Her fingers dance briefly between them, and suddenly, she's holding onto the stem of a pearly white snowdrop. "I'm strong because there are people counting on me to be strong. People I love. People I couldn't bear to let down." She hands him the snowdrop. It is soft and alive in his fingers. "You have those people. I know you do." He doesn't miss the way her eyes flick over to Dorian, who is just now walking away from his father. "And a word of advice? From someone who waited and will carry the regret of that waiting for the next millennium?" There's a twinkle of something almost mischievous in her eye. "Do not take too long to let those people know how you feel. You and I know better than most that you never know how long you have with them."

She stands then, tall and regal, gives him a wink, and glides away, leaving Orym speechless and holding the flower. He watches her disappear into the throngs of the Platinum Sanctuary, and then his eyes catch Zeru Wyvernwind walking down the steps. He stuffs the snowdrop into his pocket and jogs after him, suddenly finding himself with quite a bit to say.

[enchanted-thestory]

Chapter Seven - The Curse

Lailah

♡⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹_. ༶ ⋆˙⊹⁺♡♡⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹_. ༶ ⋆˙⊹⁺♡♡⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹_. ༶ ⋆˙⊹⁺♡♡⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹_. ༶ ⋆˙

My name is Lailah and for as long as I've ever known I've been haunted by a curse. 

An evil soul taking a curse, as I've gotten older I've learned to conceal it but sometimes I can't help but let it out. This curse shows itself in the form of dark matter which tends to take and destroy. When I was little and did not control it, I would ruin many things unintentionally such as plants, and books, and sometimes even be capable of killing living things. I know deep down that I’m not a bad person, but this curse has slowly taken over my body. I know it’s only a matter of time before it takes over my body and kills me. 

This only manifested itself whenever I felt a strong emotion such as anger. I am ashamed of this secret and it eats me alive slowly every day. Frances used to say that I was cursed by an evil witch when I was just a baby but before she could kill me Frances took me in so she could not hurt me anymore. I often wonder what I had done to deserve this, is being born enough of a crime to make someone, let alone a baby, suffer in this way? 

Now that I'm living with this nice family I hope I can conceal this awful thing forever so I can't hurt them too. 

I must do whatever it takes to prove myself to them, especially after showing their continued kindness. I do not find their secrets strange. I relate to them in a way that they will never know. I too know what it's like to be ashamed of who you are. I find great comfort in her presence. It's clear to me that she needs a friend, although I've never been given the honor to be someone's friend. I hope that one day I'll be able to carry the title. 

I opened the door to see that all three of them were sitting at the table eating breakfast.

“Good day everyone,” I say 

“Good day, Lailah!” Marina says 

“Let me get you a plate to sit down on that empty chair if you like,” Angel says, quickly standing up to serve a plate of breakfast which consisted of a pastry and some fruit. 

“Thank you so much Angel,” I say and in return, she smiles.

We all eat until Marina stands and puts her plate to wash. 

“I've got to go I don't want to be late and have Brady yelling at me again” 

“If Brandy yells at you, you send him to me. He had no reason to be yelling at you” Johnny tells Marina.

“Johnny, he is my boss, he does have the right to yell at me,” Marina says as she packs a bag filled with various fruits. 

“I don't care he shouldn't be yelling at you” 

Marina noticeably brushes him off. She waves at us goodbye before she is out the door. 

“Aren't you supposed to be heading out too?” Johnny asks Angel 

“Yeah but unlike Marina I don't give a damn what Brandy says” She cheekily smiles before biting down on her pastry. 

“You should be more responsible like Marina”

“You want to be more like my little sister? She is young and naive, that's the main reason she cares so much about the Y.K.C.” 

Johnny stays silent possibly because he knows that Angel is right. 

“So Lailah” Angel directs herself towards me now. “What are you planning on doing today?”

“Yes, Lailah, what are you planning on doing today?” Johnny says sarcastically 

“Are you kidding? Why are you such a dick?” Angel sharply says “Don't listen to him he has had a stick up his ass for the last 23 years” 

I try my best not to laugh at her remark. 

“I was planning on searching for a job today, trying to get my life back for once,” I say jokingly. 

“Well, I wish the best of luck to you. I'll be cheering you on from the Y.K.C.,” she says as she stands up to head out too. “I'll be back later”

“Alright see you,” Johnny says

Johnny and I are now sitting alone at the dining table and I can't help but feel a weird aura in the air. I try not to notice it and just eat my breakfast. 

I finish up quickly and start heading off the door. 

Looking for a job could prove a difficult task now that I am in a new place. The people here are more different and more lively than in my old town. Start making my way through the shops and so far every single owner has turned me down. I was starting to feel hopeless. I didn't want to fail anyone let alone myself. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this. I needed to let all the people who didn't believe in me before that I could make something out of myself.

I started heading up to this nice shop that sold pastries. I introduce myself and ask to speak to the owner. It was this nice gentleman who had an interesting wardrobe, to say the least, he introduced himself as Mr. Hicks. He explained that he needed extra help and would appreciate it greatly if I joined his team. I was beyond excited. I'm surprised that I was even able to find work today but took it with open arms.

I accepted the job with Mr. Hicks, and he explained that he would prefer it if could start right this instance. I had nothing planned for the rest of the day so I figured there was no harm in starting early. 

He introduced me to the other girl working there Marie. She seemed nice enough. She was the one who ended up showing the ropes. She informed me that I'd be dealing with customers more than anything and that she would be the one making drinks and preparing pastries. After a while, she asked me to wait tables to get me started. 

Things seemed very straightforward, some people were more difficult than others but overall it was a very standard day of work. At the end of the day, we helped Mr. Hicks close up shop. He pulled me aside and said that I had done a good job today and that he would pay me in three days. I thanked him and Marie for helping me out and I went to head back to the house. 

In a way, it was weird to head back to a home I looked forward to at the end of the day. I hope this feeling never goes away but with my luck these days that probably won't happen. 

I open the door and see Marina reading a book on the couch. As soon as she sees me she greets me. 

“Hey Lailah, how was your day?”

“Pretty good Marina thank you I was able to find work today”

“That's great I'm so happy for you, you must be exhausted, feel free to take a shower it's the third door from the left” 

“Will do thank you, Marina” 

I took a quick shower and when I got out Marina was standing waiting beside the door.

“Is it okay if I-” she pauses to gather her thoughts “It's just Angel never lets me touch her hair and you have such pretty long hair.” 

“Do you want to brush my hair?” I ask her 

“Yes please”

“Okay then let's go to my room” I lead her to my room and sit on the floor while she sits on the bed. 

She starts brushing. I can tell she is trying to be as gentle as possible and I appreciate that. 

“Lailah, do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“I don't mind you asking me things Marina,” I say

“Well, you mentioned you had a boyfriend before coming here right?”

“I did yes,” I say worried about how the conversation would play out.

“Well it's just-” she pauses for a second. “How did you know that you liked him?” 

“Oh well I guess there was never a definitive time where I knew but over time I realized that I wanted to spend all of my time with him, it's one of those things where you truly feel special being around someone,” I say reminiscing on the good times. 

“But you broke up, how could someone make you feel like that and then just leave?”

“It's a bit complicated but people change at first they will only show you the side that they want. If someone wants you to like them they'll show their good side but as time goes on they will show their true self and it's up to you to know how you feel about their true self. In my case, my ex-boyfriend's true self was not a person I'd like to be with so we decided to part ways” 

I try my best not to say something I regret later. I know how hard these types of situations can be and honestly you would never truly know unless you experience it for yourself. 

Marina keeps brushing. I can tell she is thinking to herself.

“Do you fancy someone, Marina?” I say teasingly

“I'm not sure, I've ever really liked someone so I don't know,” she says parting my hair.

“I think that it's one of those things where when you know you'll know,” I say

She stayed quiet for a moment but then she said “I think you're right” and even though I couldn't see her face I could tell she had a smile on. 

“I know everything will work out for you Marina if it's not with this person then that's okay it won't be the end of the world” I try to comfort her, I know how weird these situations can be especially for young teenagers.

“I see how even though things ended pretty badly for you, in many ways not only in your relationship, you held your head up high and decided to start over and I think that makes you pretty brave” 

“You think that about me?” I say surprised

“Of course, I do your battles don't go unnoticed at least by me anyway”

“Thank you Marina that is so sweet” 

“I try my best,” she chuckles. “You're all done! What do you think?”

I look up and see my reflection in the mirror hung up on the wall. She put my hair into two long braids and I could tell she tried her best to make it perfect. 

“I like it Marina thank you” 

“Of course well I should be thanking you for allowing me to play with your hair a bit” 

“Nonsense I enjoyed our little chat I hope to know more about you, you seem like a sweet kid”

“And you are a nice old person,” she says as she goes out the door. 

I'm not old am I? I'm only a few years older than her I'm barely twenty!

At the same time, Johnny is coming from the other side of the hall. He pauses in his tracks and watches her leave, he turns and looks at me. 

“Were you talking to my sister?” he says 

“Yeah we had a small chat and she did my hair” 

“Okay” he seems bothered, “do you want to help me make some dinner?”

“Of course, you tell me what to do and I'll do it” 

“Alright then come on” 

.

.

.

Hey guys quick author's note, firstly I'd like to thank you all for reading i hope you are enjoying the story so far because we are going into some interesting lore in the next few chapters!

Second of all, we are going to make a switch instead of only uploading on Fridays I will also be uploading on Mondays so be on the look out for that!

If you want to participate in polls, see sneak peeks, and more I recommend you check my personal blog, Dee Rodriguez

[teecupangel]

Got another idea. XD Sorry! 💜

Do you know about Yuri on Ice? I loved the animation of the ice skating in the show and just imagine Desmond doing those graceful jumps is making me swoon like a maiden. XD

Could do a light AU where Desmond is scouted by a proffesional because he is so nimble shortly after running away from the farm or a full blown AU with Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton as professional ice skaters.

The light AU would be a bit difficult to pull off unless we make the trainer ex criminal or something, so that Abstergo couldn't try to grab Desmond immidiently when he starts competing. The trainer would assure him that whatever threat is out there he would protect him and it works until 2012. Abstergo probably got desperate enough to kidnapp Desmond, damn the publicity of a famous athlete going missing. The image of Desmond wielding the ice skates as knives is also both funny and badass. XD

Full blown AU could have Bill getting injured early on in his career and pushing(abusing) Desmond into becoming the star Bill was meant to be. Because athletes in general retire around their 30s, we can muck about with the ages so that Al Mualim, Haytham and Bill where skating around the same time and after Bill was forced to retire early, he decided to date and have a kid with another famous skater in the hopes that Desmond would be a prodigy(he is, but that is not enough for Bill).

Al Mualim, when he lost his eye in a duel skating rutine gone horrificly wrong(imagine a few years after Bill), decided to take on his old friend Umar's son as his personal trainee to live vicariously through.

Haytham is the only one of the 3 who retires of his own free will. He could discover that an intense, but short relationship he had with the skater Ziio resulted in a child and she saw how fiercly competetive and single minded Haytham was about the sport, so she decided to not tell Haytham about Ratonhnhaké:ton or more commonly known as Connor. Once Haytham discovers he has a son after Ziio dies(i imagine disease), he takes him in and tries to bond with him, to mixed results. Connor decides to follow in both his parents footsteps, to honor his mother and because it seems to be the best way to bond with his father. I imagine some light angst about Haytham pushing Connor because that was how he was raised after his father died early on, but eventually Haytham learns to just be proud of his son. 🥰

Ezio is the fan favorite with his devilish charms and outrages antics with his older brother, gossip magazines love them because Ezio loves to tease and indulge the photographers in exchange for most of them leaving his family alone. The Auditores are not an ice skating family, Ezio is just really talented and does it for the love of the sport, so he is pretty chill about competing. He is feared for his jumps though. VERY feared. XD

This could be Altdes or Ezides(because i'm traaaash! XD) where Desmond growing closer to the love interest lets him discover what true love and family is meant to be. Tbh think Ezio is the most fitting if we do that route, because let's face it: out if every goddamned assassin i know of, he is the only one with a good family/upbringing until the hanging. Fucking Disney mom syndrom over here. XD

Btw, i have no idea about ice skating and it's been years since i watched Yuri on Ice, so i am sorry if any details here is wildy inaccurate or impossible. ^^ And sorry for the text wall, got carried away. Again. XD Love ya! 💜

I love Yuri on Ice and I’m still waiting for that movie lol.

If you don’t want to choose between AltDes and EziDes, go with both? XD

But in all seriousness, EziDes would be more on the side of fluff and Desmond slowly becoming part of the Auditore family and learning what it means to have an actual loving family. Ezio would be the kind of person who would show Desmond the world beyond the small confines of being William Miles’ successor and he’ll learn to be interested in other things.

AltDes, though, considering the setup we have here, would focus heavily on the distorted mirror image they both share. Altaïr would be the son William Miles wanted to raise in Desmond’s eyes and Desmond would be the type of person he would have become had he not rose to all of Al Mualim’s expectation in Altaïr’s eyes. This is less of a found family kind of thing but more on the side of “I am jealous of you but I also can’t help but worry about you” kind of thing because they both have an idea of the loneliness and suffering they are hiding.

So yeah, it really depends on what kind of story you want to go for. Fluff for EziDes, angst for AltDes XD

Also… maybe in some ways, EziDes is about Ezio saving Desmond while AltDes is about the two of them saving each other.

Regardless of which path we take, Ezio’s relationship with Desmond would be about ‘learning of the outside world’ kind of deal and having an actual healthy support system who cares and love him. Desmond’s relationship with Altaïr would be more on the side of finding someone so similar to one’s self that caring and loving them (either platonically or romantically) is a way for one to care and love themselves.

Ratonhnhaké:ton, on the other hand, is that kind friend who serves as Desmond’s own foil thanks to his relationship with his own father. But, unlike Altaïr, their friendship is less burdened because Ratonhnhaké:ton actually knows what he wants and Haytham is trying. Their father-son relationship is actually what makes Desmond realize that, shit, his own relationship with his father is fucked up.

Ezio told him that too but Desmond can’t really wrap his head around it because Giovanni act really different from Bill that he can’t really compare them but Haytham? Haytham definitely acts a lot like Bill. And then he meets Al Mualim who acts a lot like Bill as well (it’s the other way around, Bill is trying to copy Al Mualim since he was more successful than Bill). So yeah, Haytham shows Desmond (and Altaïr) that a father can fuck up but make up for it as well.

Also, regardless of the pairing, the four of them would have a close bond with one another with the not-love interest and Ratonhnhaké:ton having front row seat to whatever shenanigans are happening between Desmond and his love interest.

(Sidebar: Kadar is absolutely Altaïr’s Number One Fan. Malik is absolutely embarrassed because he’s actually competing in the same competition and everyone who knows Kadar is his brother pities him because his own brother is cheering a different contestant. Kadar also skates and he can actually copy Altaïr’s performances. Ask him to perform his own and he blanks out though)

Love you too💜 and never apologize for text walls. I love reading them hahahaha

[cocoa-rococo]

Hello fellow Rayman author :) I keep wanting to write some Rayman and Globox friendship fluff but can never come up with the scenario required to properly do so. Maybe you'd like to take that up. I also love the idea of a Rayman 2 AU, where Globox just earned the power that was meant for Rayman by accidentally eating his silver lum :D But that feels like a bigger project.

(holy shit, THE levy120? aka one of the best rayman fanfic authors of all time? i re-read your stuff constantly, my dude, it's an honor.)

first off, oh man, that au sounds so cool! i already got a lot of rayman fics in the work already (the price of lightning-bolt inspiration bursts at midnight, i suppose), but that sounds like a ton of fun with a lot of potential.

secondly, i am ALWAYS down for writing friendship fluff. these two are so delightful to work with, so i hope this suffices!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Okay, a little higher! Good! Now, left, left, leftleftleftleftleft too far! A little more to the right, aaand… perfect!"

The summers in the Glade of Dreams were a time of plenty, with blooming flowers, flourishing greenery, and the trees all but bending under the weight of the produce they bore. Berries clustered together on the vine, little jewels in the daylight awaiting the brief harvest of those passing through. The weather was flawless for a few hours of picking berries; bright skies, warm sun, and cool breezes that passed through the shadows of the jungle canopy.

It was well known, however, that the most tender and delicious fruit waited at the very top of the trees, where the sun was strong but speckled through the leaves. Succulent and ripe, they surrendered easily to teeth and burst with flavor on the tongue. The only trick was learning how to get up there. Alas, it was a trick few knew. They contented themselves, then, to wait for the load to get too heavy on the branches and fall to the floor, where they were turned into pies, tarts, juices, and other treats.

Rayman was one of the lucky few who did know the ways up. To do that, however, he needed an assistant to help him climb and a friend to share the spoils with.

"Hey, Rayman?" Globox said, trying to both hold the thingamajig's feet steady and shuffle to the perfect picking spot. "I don't wanna be rude or anything, but do you think maybe we could hurry this up a little? My face feels squished."

"It's just for a little longer!" the limbless promised, swaying on Globox's lip, floating hands straining to reach for the closest branch to start the trek up. "Once I get up there, I'll drop the berries down, then you can catch them in the baskets."

The thought of food put the frog's complaints to rest as he straightened. "Can I eat the first one?"

"Sure, if you want. You have to take the skin off, first, though."

An attempted grab at the branch resulted in a miss. He had to readjust.

"Rayman?"

"Yeah?"

"What's so special about these berries, anyway? I mean, can't we just wait until it falls?"

"They're not just any berries, Globox, they're — oh, maybe move forward a little more — thanks — they're whiplicks!"

"Lick-whip-what?"

"Whiplicks!" The floating hand strained up again, fingertips grazing the bark. Rayman wobbled on his perch, hands out, and centered himself. "Need to get higher — Ly told me about them. They only grow once every few years, and the perfect time to harvest them is right before midsummer."

Globox grappled his sneakers in a new hold. "Huh. Are they any good?"

"I don't know, I've never had them. But supposedly, once you peel the hard part away, the insides taste like melted chocolate."

"Oooooh! Scrummy!"

"Yeah, it sounds neat, and —" Rayman stopped. The floating hands returned to his sides as he turned back to the frog with a raised brow. "Wait, what?"

"What is it?"

"What did you just say?"

"Uh," Globox blinked, one eye after the other. "Scrummy? Why, did I say something wrong?"

"What? No," Rayman shook his head, face scrunched in confusion. "It's just that — Globox, is that even a real word?"

"Sure it is! I read it myself!"

Confusion slid into suspicion. "… Where?"

"In a dictionary."

"Which one?"

"Oh. I don't know, any one. Is there even more than one kind of dictionary?"

"Maybe? But in any case, I'm almost positive that's not a word."

"Scrummy's a real word!"

Rayman's suspicion melted in the presence of their usual banter, and a smile crept onto his face. He shook his head with a laugh. "No, it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"Alright then, smart guy, where in the dictionary does it say that?"

"Under the 'S', where it always is!"

"Since when?!"

"Since forever, probably!" Ahhh, there it was; Globox's smile in kind. That's what confirmed it in Rayman's head that he knew they were teasing. "And the way I learned it, you wanna know? Lila's getting to be real big — you know her, the one who makes you read those stories with all the nice pictures?"

"Yeah, I remember her. Nice kid."

"Well recently, she's been reading words, real words, all by herself! And she likes it a lot. So me and Uglette got her a few easy books to go through, and when she doesn't know what a word means, we look it up together!"

Looking back, Rayman could confirm that yes, his heart might have melted at the image of Globox being a loving father, but that still didn't mean he was wrong about this being an illegitimate string of letters. "Alright, fine. If you really did look it up, what does it mean?"

"Oh, that's easy. It means tasty! Delicious! You know, when you eat something good. It rhymes with 'yummy', after all."

"Then what not say that?"

"What, yummy?"

"Yeah!"

"Gosh, I dunno. Why does anyone say anything?"

… Huh. Why do people say anything, really? Ly could probably find some truth in that, if he remembered to repeat it to her.

"I guess," Globox shrugged, making Rayman sway on his feet, as he smiled once more, "maybe it's to make it sound more appetizing?"

"Globox, no offense, but that's the least appetizing word I've ever heard — scrummy? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with scrummy?"

"It doesn't even sound like a word anymore!"

"Yeah, because you keep repeating it!"

"Me?!" Rayman's cheeks burned from grinning so much. "You're *the one who keeps saying it! And anyway, what *isn't wrong with it? It sounds exactly like another, even better word, doesn't sound appealing at all, and doesn't even feel like an actual —"

"Hey, Rayman?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk about this a little later? My arms are getting tired."

It was then that the limbless realized he was still balanced atop his friend, with no fruit to show for his efforts.

"Oh," he blinked, large grin shriveling into a sheepish half-smile. "Sorry! Maybe… I can try jumping up instead? Count of three!"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When the sun fell and evening arose, and the berries were reached, picked, washed, peeled, and taste-tested for chocolatey perfection — and found to be true — Globox brought Rayman to his house and had Lila show him a certain term in the 'S' section of the dictionary. Rayman studied it with a shrewd eye, burned red, and admitted, in the face of the blue frog's triumph, that perhaps he needed to read a little more. Lila was all too happy to assist in the matter.

Father, daughter, and thingamajig sat in a circle, the youngest reading aloud to them as best she could between bites of — as they all agreed — positively scrummy whiplick berries.

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - FOUR

Chapter Warning: swearing, spoilers for 2x03, mediocre writing

Series Masterlist

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you tried to balance a camera bag, your work bag, and the box of treats in your hand while simultaneously attempting to lock your car door. Glancing over your shoulder, you realized with dismay that after succeeding at this, you would somehow have to open the door to the training facility.

“Oi, babes, let me get that for you,” Keeley, your hero and savior, called. She exited her own car and took the large box out of your hands which considerably lightened the load on your arms.

“Y’know, if you needed me to kill someone, I would do it without question,” you gasped out as you finally locked the door to your car. She grinned and bumped her shoulder against yours.

“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind. What’s today’s treat?”

“Blueberry and strawberry muffins. Blue and red, like Richmond’s colors.”

“Fucking brilliant. Have I told you that yet? You’re fucking brilliant.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up for more sweets.”

Keeley batted her lashes at you and shrugged. “I might be, but I’m not lying. I wouldn’t be opposed to some brandy snaps if you ever make those.”

You chuckled. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Keeley led the way to the locker rooms through the maze of halls. The blonde announced herself with a loud “knock, knock” before she pushed her way in. You set your camera bag and work bag down so you could take the box and free up her hands.

“Sam, I think I have something you might want to see,” Keeley exclaimed. “You want to look at your photos from the Dubai Air shoot?”

He had taken the photos a few weeks ago and they had the edits done in no time, giving you and Keeley a chance to come up with a few ideas on how to promote it.

“Ooo, yes please. I am very nervous, but also very excited. That’s similar to whenever Colin drives me anywhere in his Lamborghini.”

“Ah, it’s true. It’s way too much car for me,” Colin agreed. Having witnessed him trying to back out of a parking space yesterday, you knew it to be true. The boys gathered around to look at the photo and, of course, they all started ribbing him. In the short time you worked here, you quickly learned that these boys cared deeply for one another but didn’t hesitate to tease them endlessly. Despite the fact that you were still unsure about your place at AFC Richmond, you were warming up to them and, in turn, added onto the teasing when you had the chance.

“Sam, how does it feel to be the new face of teenage vandalism?”

“It’s remarkable. I feel honored,” he jested in earnest.

“Bro, why are you wearing your kit on the plane?” Bumbercatch added.

“It’s the only way they know he’s a footballer.” Jamie Tartt’s insufferable voice piped up above the crowd. Every head turned towards him, including yours. From what Colin had told you, Jamie hadn’t been the kindest guy in the locker room and it certainly seemed as though he had it out for Sam. Probably because Sam was a damn good player and Jamie was, well, an insecure twat.

His face fell and he recognized that his joke didn’t land. It’s hard to land a joke if all you were known for was cruelty. Hefting up the box in your hand, you lifted the lid to display the muffins inside to the boys.

“A little Richmond treat,” you announced before slamming the lid down before Jan Maas could grab one. “That you will receive after practice because there is no way in hell I’m being blamed for you all puking on the pitch.”

“But…” Bumbercatch whined.

“No.” You were firm but your eyes glinted with humor. “If you puke, you owe me a hundred. Do you want to be indebted to me?”

“No, ma’am,” they mumbled and began to disperse. You headed into the office to give Beard a muffin and to also store the box away until after practice. Keeley instructed the boys on joining Bantr as you placed a muffin on his desk.

“Your blueberry muffin,” you announced.

“I could kill a man for your food,” he replied, practically pouncing on the treat.

“I’m…not sure if that’s a joke or not.” But you thanked him nonetheless and tucked your box into the hiding place Beard made for you with the promise that he got first dibs. You walked back out into the locker room just in time to see Jamie fucking Tartt standing up and opening his big mouth. Oh, this had to be good. You leaned against the doorframe to the office and watched him put his proverbial foot in his mouth.

“I know I wasn’t the greatest teammate. I did some shitty things. I said some shitty things. But I want each and every one of you to know that I’m truly sorry and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make it up to ya. Yeah?.” Was this some kind of Twilight Zone? Or was Jamie Tartt actually apologizing for his behavior?

Silence met his declaration and you almost started to feel bad for the guy when Colin piped up.

“You called me a jaundiced worm.”

“Right, yeah. I’m sorry about that, Colin.”

“In a profile for my hometown paper.” You held back the snort of laughter that threatened to escape you. Sure, Colin was probably the closest friend you’ve made on the team next to Keeley, but jaundiced worm was kind of funny.

“You hit on my mum,” Bumbercatch interjected. “In front of my dad.”

“I apologize for that, Bumbercatch. Please tell your father I’m sorry. And give Janice me best, yeah?”

You muffled your laugh into your hand and turned so your back was to the team. Christ, that was funny as hell. The room descended into shouts, both French and English, as everyone tore into Jamie. Hell, you did start to feel bad for the guy. But he asked for this.

Ted directed the team to go outside for practice and you pushed off the wall, intent on following so you could get some good shots for the various social media platforms. Grabbing your bags, you sidled up next to Colin.

“A jaundiced worm?” you choked out through a laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. It’s a creative insult, though.”

“My da thought it was next to the funniest thing he’s heard since Thatcher croaked,” he complained.

You patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, if you were a worm, I’d still be your friend.”

A sniffle from behind you drew your attention to Dani who wiped a tear away. “That was a beautiful thing to say.”

That set off another round of laughter but this time Colin joined in. At least you were able to make him laugh after all the chaos. Practice wasn’t bitterly cold this week, but you were still bundled up in a jacket, gloves, and a Richmond beanie. You wished bitterly that you had a hot coffee or tea right now, but you knew they would be waiting for you back in your office. Fumbling with your camera, you tried to keep your fingers from growing stiff from the cold. Your focus was on the screen in front of you to see if you had enough photos from today so you could go inside.

That’s when you heard someone shout your name.

Your head snapped up just in time to see a ball flying towards you. With a yelp, you ducked and it slammed into the wall behind you before bouncing back and hitting your legs. It stung but it wasn’t as bad as a direct hit.

“Are you alright?” Sam exclaimed as he jogged over. You scooped up the ball and tossed it towards him. He caught it easily, but didn’t leave. This team was full of softies.

“I’m fine, Sam. Truly. I guess that’s a sign I should head in and start editing these.” You lifted your camera with a shrug and then bent down to pick up your bags. Before you straightened up, another voice joined Sam’s.

“I am so, so sorry,” Jamie Tartt apologized. “The ball just got away from me and I put too much power behind it and-”

“It’s not a big deal. No harm, no foul, right? I’m fine. Seriously.”

Sam shot Jamie a dirty look but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want the boys blaming Jamie for a genuine accident. You knew that standing on the edge of the pitch was always a risk. And you hadn’t been paying attention. That was your fault, not his.

“Go practice before Nate blows his whistle,” you said. Maybe you could go get some work done at the cafe Keeley introduced you to. That would get you away from the prying eyes and constant questions. As much as you appreciated working at Richmond, you weren’t the kind of person who would delve their entire being into their work. Everyone here seemed intent on being close-knit and connected. You were just the girl that posted shit on Twitter.

Keeley approved your idea of working at the cafe and reminded you that you didn’t need to constantly update her on your whereabouts. She was a very chill boss and if you kept delivering quality content, she really didn’t care where you got your work done. That found you at a small table tucked into the corner with your laptop in front of you and a half-drunk vanilla latte clasped between your hands. Steam curled off the top of the mug and you inhaled it, drunk on the heady scent of coffee and the warmth it provided.

You were so engrossed in your work that the plate being laid in front of you made you nearly jump out of your skin. Heather, one of the baristas, grinned at your surprise but apologized.

“I didn’t order this,” you protested.

“I know,” she retorted and jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “He did.”

Jamie Tartt stood at the counter with a to-go cup dangling in his hands and a sheepish smile on his lips. He had some stupid baseball cap on his head that proclaimed him as an ICON and his flashy clothes made you roll your eyes but you gestured for him to join you.

“I just wanted to apologize for almost hitting ya,” he explained. “And I figured you like pastries and stuff so…yeah.”

“Sit down if you’d like,” you offered. He fidgeted for a moment before accepting your offer and sitting across from you. “I’ve been meaning to set up a meeting with you, to be honest.”

“With me? What’d I do? Don’t tell me the jacuzzi pictures are back.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes once more and sighed. “No, I meet with everyone to discuss their social media presence, goals, and management they might work with. It’s to make sure I can cater to you all while building a steady presence.”

He sat back, his eyebrows raised, and nodded. “That…is smart. I’ve got a manager but, I don’t know, I’m not really sure he’s helping me.”

“Is he the one that convinced you to do a reality show?” You hid the disdain over that choice well because he clearly didn’t notice.

“Nah, that was all me. I won’t be doing that again, by the way. I don’t really have any goals, yeah? Nothing for the socials, that is. I should but…” He shrugged. “Gotta figure out what I’m doing with the team first.”

The day’s events flashed through your mind, from him being absolutely demolished in the locker room to the boys ignoring him on the pitch. Jamie looked genuinely defeated by today. His shoulders curved in, giving him the appearance of a boy protecting himself against the world. Something told you that it was a familiar position for him to be in.

“Have you ever considered that the team needs to see you be part of them rather than just hear apologies and see no change?” As you spoke, you unwrapped the muffin and cut it in half before putting one half on the wrapper and placing it in front of you and pushing the plate with the other half in front of him. Jamie opened his mouth to refuse, but you merely raised an eyebrow. He gratefully broke off a piece and ate it, chewing on the sweet as though he was chewing on your words.

“I dunno. I don’t think they’ll ever see me as anything but the twat I was.”

“Then make them see.”

Doubt painted his features, but you weren’t going to entertain his insecurities right now. Instead, you flipped your laptop around and showed him the photo you were editing. “Got any caption ideas for this?”

The two of you sat in the small cafe for nearly three hours, drawing up ideas for posts and analyzing pictures. Jamie was a genuinely funny person when he wasn’t insulting someone and you found yourself laughing at his quips more than you expected.

By the time you realized the sun had set, it was well past the time you normally get home. “Shit, I better get home. I need to prepare stuff for my other job.”

Jamie silently stood as you packed up all your stuff. You expected him to just say his goodbyes and leave you there, but he surprised you once more. He carried the dishes up to the counter and then doubled back to help carry your camera bag and laptop case, leaving you with just your purse.

“It’s dark. I’ll walk you to your car,” he explained.

“Thank you.” He acknowledged your thanks with a dip of his chin and then followed you outside into the cold winter air. You really needed to pull out your bigger coat because it was just going to get colder. Your teeth were chattering by the time you reached your car parked on the street. Jamie stowed your bags in the passenger seat and then he stepped back from your car and shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. You couldn’t stop the small smile from slipping across your lips.

“Yeah. Have a good night, Jamie.”

He waited until you were in the driver's seat before he walked off in search of his own vehicle. Cranking the heat on high, you took a moment to relax back against the soft fabric of your car seat and exhale a deep breath.

Maybe Jamie Tartt wasn’t the twat you thought he was.

Maybe, just maybe, you should practice what you preach and give him a chance to show you that he’s changed.

Tag List: @shiptheship​ @teigo-the-explorer​ @geeksareunique​ @queenofthekill​ @actuallybarb​ @for-fucks-sake-im-alive @maggiecc​ @alipap3​

[rukafais]

every time someone bitches about how drizzt is Inexplicably Good For No Reason and that makes him a too-good mary sue my literary pretention meter goes up another pip

Like huh! I wonder why Drizzt would kick back against the constant indoctrination of the academy and the implied social skills that are required to be a proper adult in Menzo society

“I will remember everything you taught me,” Drizzt promised, dodging a cut and launching a fierce counter of his own. “I will carve my name in the halls of Melee-Magthere and make you proud.” The scowl on Zak’s face surprised Drizzt, and the young drow grew even more confused when the weapons master’s next attack sent a sword knifing straight at his heart. Drizzt leaped aside, slapping at the blade in sheer desperation, and narrowly avoided impalement. “Are you so very sure of yourself?” Zak growled, stubbornly pursuing Drizzt. Drizzt set himself as their blades met in ringing fury. “I am a fighter,” he declared. “A drow warrior!” “You are a dancer!” Zak shot back in a derisive tone. He slammed his sword onto Drizzt’s blocking scimitar so savagely that the young drow’s arm tingled. “An imposter!” Zak cried. “A pretender to a title you cannot begin to understand!”

It's not like he had a sudden fight with his beloved mentor right before they left

But Zak was relentless. He fended the attacks and continued his lesson. “Do you know the emotions of murder?” he spat. “Have you reconciled yourself to the act you committed?” Drizzt’s only answers were a frustrated growl and a renewed attack. “Ah, the pleasure of plunging your sword into the bosom of a high priestess,” Zak taunted. “To see the light of warmth leave her body while her lips utter silent curses in your face! Or have you ever heard the screams of dying children?” [...] “How loud, those screams,” Zak continued. “They echo over the centuries in your mind; they chase you down the paths of your entire life.” Zak halted the action so that Drizzt might weigh his every word. “You have never heard them, have you, dancer?” The weapons master stretched his arms out wide, an invitation. “Come, then, and claim your second kill,” he said, tapping his stomach. “In the belly, where the pain is greatest, so that my screams may echo in your mind. Prove to me that you are the drow warrior you claim to be.” The tips of Drizzt’s scimitars slowly made their way to the stone floor. He wore no smile now. “You hesitate,” Zak laughed at him. “This is your chance to make your name. A single thrust, and you will send a reputation into the Academy before you. Other students, even masters, will whisper your name as you pass. ‘Drizzt Do’Urden,’ they will say. ‘The boy who slew the most honored weapons master in all of Menzoberranzan!’ Is this not what you desire?” “Damn you,” Drizzt spat back, but still he made no move to attack. “Drow warrior?” Zak chided him. “Do not be so quick to claim a title you cannot begin to understand!” Drizzt came on then, in a fury he had never before known. His purpose was not to kill, but to defeat his teacher, to steal the taunts from Zak’s mouth with a fighting display too impressive to be derided.

where Drizzt desperately wanted validation that he Did Good and learned everything Zak wanted him to learn and got nothing but Zak suddenly turning on him and telling him he was a stupid child who didn't understand anything about what being a drow warrior really means. it went from a clean fair fight to suddenly being tricked

“Treachery,” Drizzt spat a third time. “It is our way,” Zak replied. “You will learn.” “It is your way,” snarled Drizzt. “You grin when you speak of murdering clerics of the Spider Queen. Do you so enjoy killing? Killing drow?” Zak could not find an answer to the accusing question. Drizzt’s words hurt him profoundly because they rang of truth, and because Zak had come to view his penchant for killing clerics of Lolth as a cowardly response to his own unanswerable frustrations. “You would have killed me,” Drizzt said bluntly. “But I did not,” Zak retorted. “And now you live to go to the Academy—to take a dagger in the back because you are blind to the realities of our world, because you refuse to acknowledge what your people are. “Or you will become one of them,” Zak growled. “Either way, the Drizzt Do’Urden I have known will surely die.” Drizzt’s face twisted, and he couldn’t even find the words to dispute the possibilities Zak was spitting at him. He felt the blood drain from his face, though his heart raged. He walked away, letting his glare linger on Zak for many steps. “Go, then, Drizzt Do’Urden!” Zak cried after him. “Go to the Academy and bask in the glory of your prowess. Remember, though, the consequences of such skills. Always there are consequences!” Zak retreated to the security of his private chamber. The door to the room closed behind the weapons master with such a sound of finality that it spun Zak back to face its empty stone. “Go, then, Drizzt Do’Urden,” he whispered in quiet lament. “Go to the Academy and learn who you really are.” [...] Drizzt looked out into the myriad colors and shapes that composed Menzoberranzan. “What is this place?” he whispered, realizing how little he knew of his homeland beyond the walls of his own house. Zak’s words—Zak’s rage—pressed in on Drizzt as he stood there, reminding him of his ignorance and hinting at a dark path ahead. “This is the world,” Dinin replied, though Drizzt’s question had been rhetorical. “Do not worry, Secondboy,” he laughed, moving up onto the railing. “You will learn of Menzoberranzan in the Academy. You will learn who you are and who your people are.” The declaration unsettled Drizzt. Perhaps—remembering his last bitter encounter with the drow he had most trusted—that knowledge was exactly what he was afraid of.

And its like GEE. I WONDER WHY DRIZZT HAS SUCH AN AVERSION TO BETRAYAL AND THE LESSONS THEY TEACH IN THE ACADEMY. IT'S NOT LIKE "WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE A DROW WARRIOR" IS THE LAST THING HIS DAD LEFT HIM WITH BEFORE HE WENT OFF TO THE ACADEMY FOR TEN YEARS. ITS NOT LIKE HIS FIRST EXPERIENCE OF "BEING A PROPER DROW" WAS A REJECTION THAT HURT HIM DEEPLY OR ANYTHING.

Naw naw he's just a perfect little guy. Just the perfect mary sue. Obviously it just comes from nowhere because he is just so good. It's not foreshadowed at all.

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Seven) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: kinda anti-Lori, misunderstandings, a marriage of convenience, and mentions of loneliness.

[[A/N: girllllll, not another Magnolia in May chapter!!! Whoops. And actually tagging bestie @imaginemyfavoritefics properly this time, bc I did use the idea of Daryl as the courier. Unrelated but this gif of him clenching his jaw... girl. Thanks for reading !! ]]

You'd taken to writing letters -the gentle swish of your quill was calming the storm of your mind. Originally, you had garnered a sort of cold from the walk in the rain and had to heal -now, you'd stayed holed up of your own accord.

'Nonsense, darling,' Headmistress had said, fluffing up your pillows, '-you must heal from a broken heart like any other wound.'

It was fewer letters and more of a sort of journal -only for your eyes to see but sometimes addressed to someone other than yourself. It started simply with one occasionally to Maggie to make her smile, or Beth to tell her things you'd learned so she wouldn't have to, or to remind Father to eat a meal when he'd been so focused on a patient that he'd neglect himself. But then, Mr. Grimes started appearing at the header.

You couldn't remember the first time it had happened, days rather blurred after that day -especially since you were treated shortly after. And rest was all you'd really gotten then, it made the passage of time blurry.

But it became something you were rather dependent on.

'Mr. Grimes,' you wrote in the first of its kind, quill rather fluid at this stage.

'I met your wife, Lori. She's a wonderful woman, kind and perfectly poised. I would, in a different life, maybe be friends with her -seems the type to be good company. Was it always her?

You've got something special, a family with beautiful children. It's every man's dream, is it not? You were my dream. I find it a bit hard to believe she would leave that dream behind. For what is more powerful than one's love for their child? I suppose there were other circumstances that I shall never be aware of. I would've liked to have known why. I understand it's a rather personal thing, but I should be urged to hear something of the full story. I might deserve it.

But I suppose you deserve a full family more. Carl and Judith do. I wouldn't fit in. I would love the best for them, despite not having known Carl, he seems a bright boy. Deserves much of the best in life, I'd garner all children do.

I often wonder if I am to have children. I suppose I could ask you for advice one day, if so. But there's something in me that speaks differently. Like that path with you is gone. Maybe I should run off to the city and write away, become focused on my education. Pay for my father's living, and house my sister's 'til they're wed.

I don't think I could, with good conscience, leave Alexandria. I'm far too fond of the people the town, its where I grew up. And I suppose, to keep my father's clinic running under the family name I may marry. I'm not too sure that I'd marry for love, per say. Can you begin the fall in love more than once? Is it possible? And furthermore, although it is something I wish for, I'm not sure that I would like to bring children into a loveless marriage.

This is getting far too detailed of my own troubles, and for that I apologize.

I truly wish your family well. Even if there's no room for me.

Yours Sincerely,

Y/N Greene'

It was a positive experience, mostly. The smearing on that letter particularly wasn't of cathartic tears. Not quite a release of the emotions dying so tightly within your soul, it was rather grief. Loss of a life that you'd never have. Despite it being the one you desperately wanted.

You sighed, stashing away the paper with the other ones -the second desk drawer to the right, under the math textbook that had been gathering dust even before you were born.

Sure, it messed your hands, but you found it was a small price to be paid for secrecy.

"Y/N, dearest," your Headmistress hummed -voice pounding up the stairs, "-get dressed and meet me at the door in 10, will you?"

"Yes, Headmistress," you echoed, off to your feet and only touching up ever-so-slightly by the mirror. And in your rush, maybe you had forgotten to shut the drawer -you couldn't know now. It stayed open, and the telling corner of dustless papers under a dusty book was certainly one to ponder over.

At least for someone, it was.

You wouldn't know what had occurred until a few weeks later, as you sorted out your joint closet with Maggie. Gathering bows and ribbons, and straightening dresses, was a wonderful way to pass time -since your newest book was seeming to be tucked away in the carriage. You truly could not find it anywhere-

And then, there was a knock at the door.

Now, normally, this was of no notice -either for Maggie (who had gone on frequent outings with Mr. Rhee since the ball) or Father (ranging anywhere from an old friend to an urgent patient). But this was one to put a pause in your mind.

Maggie was, in fact, out -you remembered the shimmer of the carriage as it pulled away, and Father was rushed off for an emergency. And even further, Headmistress and Beth had gone out to a sort of gathering -some sort of tea party, you'd assumed. (They'd invited you, but you'd truly not wished to hear the gossip. Especially not now.)

You stilled, you were alone here then.

Well, you considered -making your way down the steps, -could be a sort of delivery. Ms. Elisa did frequently speak with friends out of town -often through letters. And Father always had an extra copy of cases delivered to his home -so he could think properly on an issue.

Satisfied with that, you approached the door with newfound confidence -fear that had stubbornly stuck there was unfounded. You twisted a bit of fabric in your dress, just to do something with your hands before swinging open the door.

And, it was a familiar face. Not one you had a name to, but one you knew -the courier.

"Ms. Greene," he spoke, his voice gruff and tired, much less peppy than you'd seen him before, "-I assume?"

"Yes," you answered cautiously, "-I'm the eldest Ms. Greene, why? If you're looking for Maggie-"

"No," he answered, simply, long hair moving with the motion of his head, "-Mr. Grimes requested this be given to you, the eldest."

"I can't acce-" you started but fell shut as a letter was extended to you -two letters. One a familiar sort of coffee-tinged brown -paper old and weary, you could hardly believe the quill hadn't punctured right through really. And the other, neatly folded, a pristine sort of ivory, and dark ink that somehow didn't seem to smudge at all. On the side that was exposed to you was written: Ms. Y/N Greene, in handwriting you recognized.

The one that had scribbled across the invitation so long ago-

"Who are you?" you questioned -eagerly bringing the letters close to your chest, "-And how did you get my letter? Have you been in my home-"

"Ms. Greene," he spoke -composed and calm, unmoved by your pressing questions, "-they were presented to me to mail weeks ago."

You froze, something heavy dropping in your stomach, "They? How... How many letters were you given to post?"

"A stack, no more than 10," he responded, "-the youngest Ms. Greene, opened the door for me once to deliver an invitation. The same one I 'ave been for weeks- It ain't relevant, really. She knew where I came from, and requested I bring 'em to Mr. Grimes immediately."

You paused, "An invitation?"

"More like a summonin'," he clarified, rather poised but still somewhat a bit casual, "-it's always the same request for you, the eldest, to attend to the Grimes estate."

"What?"

He paused, "It's supposed to be brought to ya, upon retrieval but... I'd guess it hasn't."

"You've-" you exhaled -a deep uncertain exhale, "-Just how long have you been delivering these?"

"Lost count."

"And-" you stuttered, a bit overwhelmed, "-and the letters, my letters they-"

"I put 'em in his hand, myself," he spoke -an ordered sort of discipline heavy in his tone with a dose of familiar twang.

"Right," you swallowed -pushing down the nerves biting up your throat at such rampant pace, he was never to see those, "-and who are you exactly?"

"Grimes estate courier," he grumbled out, a some of bitterness gathered there.

"No, no," you quirked a brow at him, "-your name? I figured as much otherwise."

He answered, rather improperly -as if he was trained in some ways and ignorant in others just slightly, "-Daryl Dixon."

"Mr. Dixon," you echoed, a sort of curiosity in your tone, "-you said he received the full stack, did he not?"

He merely nodded.

"Well, why do I only have one, then?"

The man pondered it for a second, loosely eyeing the way you held the letters like he knew what they contained (maybe he did), "I suppose he ain't done replyin' to the others."

The rest of the interaction was fairly polite, mere questions about his work -to which he complained quite vividly about the extent of it, but never shred a wrong light on Mr. Grimes. You'd gathered they were well-acquainted, even perhaps friends from youth, but you couldn't exactly pinpoint it. He didn't say anything directly, and was rather quiet around details. Well, details pertaining to Mr. Grimes, you supposed.

You'd initially wanted to search for the invitations he spoke of, but something bigger was biting you.

Your hands were quick to rush to the drawer, pulling it open -to suddenly believe it was not real. To prove that all of this was a farce, that the letters were still safely kept. But, when you opened it, you could tell.

Even still, you pushed forward holding up the book, peering underneath. It was empty, extraordinarily empty.

"No, no, no-" you urged, heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach -heavy, "-it can't be..."

Private pieces of you, of your sadness, your longing- Sent to the married man of the header.

And just back as you pushed back in your chair, the brush of tears only a breath away -your eyes caught on the letter.

It was not yours.

Yours sat just beside it, you recognized it to be the first one -all sort of crumpled and agonizingly smudged. All conflicted feelings and harsh realities buzzing under your skin. You'd written it partially under the delirium of your illness, so it was rather brash but you'd never thought you'd need to worry about it. The only thing different was how it was presented.

You remember hastily shoving it away, between book covers, under table legs, hidden in the dirt of the garden, as you tried to find a good place to stash them. You'd always been so quick to put them away, to get out the feelings and move on-

Looking at it now, though, the worn paper was smoothed out (to the best it could be) and perfectly folded. Each corner matched to another and creases were indented lightly so as to not damage the written word. It was treated as precious. Something... Something he'd rather cared for.

Something told you then to get rid of it, to throw it onto the fire when no one was looking, to stash it away, to never read it no matter the cost because you were doing the right thing and should not be swayed-

But another part of you was dreadfully curious. And dreadfully grieving the loss of a man who still lived.

It was your mail, a letter addressed to you. Wouldn't it be rather rude to not read it? If you hadn't wished the first one to be mailed, you retorted, then no.

And yet, you found yourself picking up the note with the gentlest of graces. Carefully unfolding the thick paper, slowly, timidly, like the words would jump off the page. Like they could hurt you.

You supposed they could.

Once fully opened, you didn't directly focus on the words -instead, detailing the printed bits around the top edges. It looked as though this was an official sort of paper -the same kind an invitation may be extended to. As well as a family seal printed into the bottom right corner, it seemed a little formal for the occasion but you found it didn't bother you. Not really.

Taking a deep breath, you blinked your eyes -wishing to calm your heart, even just for a moment, and started reading.

'Ms. Greene,' it started, letters crisply written in a thin but precise sort of writing. Your finger naturally went to trace over them, dotting the i's and swirling the g's.

'I must first say that it's to my understanding that these letters are rather personal to you. You weren't the one who intended to mail them, I've come to know. I know that this then, by proxy, is a large invasion of your privacy.

And I can only hope you forgive me for such a thing. Because this is my sort of last resort to reach you. I'm sure you're familiar with the invitations that have flooded your door, and although, I understand the no response for what you know, I've become quite desperate.

To be completely clear, I was nearly on my horse to your home the morning these letters arrived. To explain everything as you deserve it to be explained.

I instead am here, writing letters. I cannot tell if that's any sort of better than my original plan was but it is the decision I chose.

In terms of Lori, the situation is rather complicated. Surely, at the young age we married, she was the plan. I'd honestly not given thought to the fact that she'd ever come back. I knew her reasons, and I fully doubted I'd ever see her again. And out of respect for you, I wish for the full story to be in person.

Despite all that, I truly wished she would. I know I did. If not only to see our children, to grace me with some sort of company.

I lived a rather lonely life before you Ms. Greene. Which may seem a bit arbitrary coming from a man with a staff, but it doesn't make it any less the truth. When she left, it was quite the scandal. I never spoke a word on it, too devastated to even imagine what to say. It meant much more reclusion, even from friends I knew from youth. And then, as I'm sure you're familiar, I decided to move back to Alexandria. Atlanta only harbored negative things, and I wished for someplace more pleasant. And it was, but still despite it all, the loneliness persisted.

So this family, this full family, you speak of, it's not what Lori and I would be. It wasn't what we were when we were married. I love my children, beyond belief, but I was still lonely. And I can't imagine a full family has a lonely father.

Frankly, Ms. Greene, I was lonely until that day in the marketplace.

And on the off chance you don't understand what I mean, I ask, from the depths of my heart, don't leave Alexandria.

Yours,

Richard Grimes'

[kxosrexgns]

⸺ KIARA && KOVU

( FC: samantha logan && aubrey joseph )

the two have known each other since they were in elementary school/little kids.

kiara is set to become the next ruler of the pride lands, and she wants kovu to be her king.

also- for context, because i'm adding in almost every fairytale even the ones with animals they are explained in a way similar to an Animagus from HP. aka they can turn into whatever animal they're supposed to be opposed to being those permanently.

kovu has saved this girl’s life on more than one occasion.

( it’s not my fault that people keep trying to plot against my life - Ki )

( by people you must mean yourself and your clumsiness - Vu )

if you know the lore- these two actually met when they were kids and kiara was exploring the pride lands & the two ran from a group of crocodiles together.

because of who kovu's mom is ( ms zira ) ig he's "technically" considered a VK, but like i could see him also living in auradon because his mom dies pretty soon/early in his life and in the story of the LK

kovu helps kiara realize her flaws and find ways to fix them. a part of their first interaction was him making fun of her for "always doing what daddy says" and when he then sees that she doesn't/didn't really listen to anyone, he basically teaches her abt herself

he says that she doesn't understand how privileged she is compared to everyone that goes against her family/has been banished

at first kiara thinks he's a dick and disregards him entirely, but then she starts noticing how she treats other people n is like "oh shit.. i do kinda just do shit without thinking of the consequences for others"

kiara ends up running into kovu in the pride lands on one of her supposed unsupervised runs around the pride lands

their theme song is Roommates ⸺ Malcolm Todd

they are in love your honor !! like this song, to me, is from Kovu's perspective. like-

I'm losing the person I was when I found you Am I acting different when I'm not around you? I'm being dramatic, I say that I'm losing I wanna show you all the things I've been doing I'm going on dates and I'm hanging my head I wanna share an apartment, a room and a bed I wanna tell you I love you but I cannot reach you I'm learning to lose, that's the thing they don't teach you

^^ like imagine this is all around the time their families were still beefing and Kovu's mom was still pushing him to marry off for power and kill kiara's dad. but he realized he started falling for her and the guilt he felt throughout the whole thing???

this part - being when he's noticing how he's smiling more, nicer to her, and genuinely having fun with her while they're secretly hanging out as kids.

the red section being him denying it and choosing to attempt to move on in order to please his mother, but it never working out???? sjhfdabkud

and the purple part just being him finally admitting all the feelings and wanting to share parts of his life with her

the pink section being about how he's never felt heartbreak before and now that he has her and this feeling he's mourning the loss

god these two have me in a chokehold

although she gets herself into dangerous situations, and though he may not like it, kovu will never force her to change her mind. he knows she's strong willed, its part of what he loves about her and he would never ask her to change herself, he just asks that she always let him join her.

kiara makes a point to never make kovu feel like he's unwanted/unneeded. especially because of all the possible trauma and issues surrounding his mother, her abuse ( LES NOT FORGET HIS FACE SCAR ), and generally being exiled twice.

these two are constantly in awe of each other it's actually so adorable. like kiara gets to show kovu so many cool things about the pride lands as well as its people.

they're the type to never run out of things to say. kiara is a biiiigg yapper, kovu's more of a listener ⸺ that and this mf is the type of guy to admire her while she talking, whether that be to him or not. head on his hand n everything, no shame.

"In a perfect world, one we've never known, we would never need to face the world alone. They can have the world; we'll create our own."

ALSO!!!! THIS SHIT ^^

To Be Continued . . . if i decide to add more.