#I put effort into the princess' deaths mostly.))

[prettymuchteddy]

People who say that House Hightower destroyed the Targaryen dynasty are kind of silly because House Strong is right there. Like House Strong really apparently wanted to get in on the action and just helped bring down a monarchy.

Harwin straight-up had illegitimate children with the crown princess. And yes I know it takes two to tango but Harwin could have stopped it, though as we see in episode 6 he is more than down with this arrangement. The fact that the children just kept coming out looking nothing like her and he still kept seeing Rhaenyra. After Jace he should have taken a step back, I guess he wanted to see if things would change with Luke? Clearly not. The rumors about Rhaenyra's children just tarnished her reputation and put a target on their children's backs. This was him supporting Rhaenyra too and all he was doing was making things worse.

Larys is a whole nother level. The man flipped sides more than a pancake on a stove. The man was plotting against everyone, I swear. He was undermining anyone who wasn't outright helping him. He even got some personal hits in by helping force Rhaenyra out of King's Landing and then poisoning Aegon. This man was made for chaos and he happened to be born in the right time for it.

Lyonel is rarely talked about but it needs to be said, if Viserys neglected the growing problems so did Lyonel. He watched for years as his son, the commander of the city watch, got close to the princess and her having children who looked suspiciously like him yet said nothing. It's not until Criston Cole mentions it that he confronts Harwin. Like just because no one has had the guts to say doesn't mean no one was thinking it. He said it himself Harwin is committing treason that can result in the exile/death of Harwin, Rhaenyra, and the children but again why say it this late?

Just when you thought all the Strongs were dead after Aemond's attack on Harrenhal, enter Alys Rivers. Whether you believe that she cast a spell on Aemond or not, she followed her family tradition of messing with the Targaryens. Intentionally or not, she led Aemond to Daemon and was there to witness them kill each other. Single handily, she killed two Taragryens as well as two dragons: Vhagar and Caraxes. Then she ran off with baby Aemondcito to vibe at her vacant family home.

Say what you will about the Hightowers, I have never seen such a collected group effort by one family (unintentional or not) to cause so much chaos to another family. They were on opposing sides at some points yet still through every step were petty and screwed over the Targaryens. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. This was mostly me highlighting how weirdly funny it is how involved House Strong was in taking down the Targaryens before they themselves went extinct as a house. No hate to anyone just weird how connected they are with everything.

[eddiemunsonw]

Library visits

PART 1 - PART 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: You see a familiar face coming in your place of work (the library), and you aren't too thrilled about it at first. However, sometimes a familiar face can be full of surprises too.

CW/Disclaimer: None, I think? Mention of death, maybe that?

Author's note: I was in need of some cute shit, though this is mostly just the build up towards the cute shit

Words: 2332

You inhaled deeply, ready to sigh tiredly when a coughing fit took that opportunity away. With all the dusty books around you, it was no surprise that your lungs were in desperate need for some fresh air.

Only recently you had started to sort out the really old books to see which ones needed some slight fixing. Which meant opening them up, as well as dusting them off. It wasn’t like the library you worked at was a musky place or anything, there was just this old section that rarely got any attention. Up until now, at least.

After putting some books back on the bottom shelf for the time being, you decided to take a break and have some tea. However, the moment you got up also became the moment you fell down again. You heard a voice apologize and you sighed, brushing yourself off as you plastered on a smile before greeting the guy.

“I’m so sorry— I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine don’t worry ab—”

There was no way.

None other than Gator Tillman was staring you down and you felt the insufferable need to swallow. And cough some more, because of the dust that settled somewhere in your lungs. He looked pretty much the same as he had in high school, just ten years older. The most distinct difference was probably his hair, which had lost the slicked back look he used to have. Instead, it was a bit wild and messy, but in a good way. Who knew his hair could actually have this much volume if not slicked back with endless amounts of gel? As you got up, you noticed he awkwardly stuffed his hand back into his pocket, as if he had wanted to help you back up.

As if. 

You smiled politely at him with some effort, and when he returned your smile it confused you a bit until you realized. He did not remember you. Which was unsurprising, but still annoying enough to make you drop your smile instantly, much to his confusion. You had no energy for this today, none at all. Just as you decided to walk past him, he quickly spoke up.

“Uh— I’m actually uhm, looking for a book?”

His voice came out a little strained, as if asking for help physically pained him. You slowly turned back around.

“You, need a book?” The condescending tone wasn't hard to miss, and you kind of hated yourself for it but you couldn’t help it. That guy had never touched a book in his life. Apart from porn magazines and comics, maybe.

“Yeah…? Do you— do you not work at the library?”

He looked around and then back to the name card that was pinned to your chest, as if he needed to make sure he wasn’t in the wrong place or something, asking the wrong person.

He definitely asked the wrong person, regardless of the fact that you worked here.

“Yes.”

“Okay…” he breathed deeply, taking one step forward causing you to automatically take one step backwards. A twitch in his brow conveyed his slight annoyance.

“I’m looking for… Princess Ella.”

“Princess Ella?” You asked, blinking a few times.

“Do you have it?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his impatience.

“Yeah… not sure if we have it on hand though.”

“Oh. Can you—”

“I’ll check.”

Gator hesitated on following you but ended up doing so anyway when he realized you were walking towards the other side of the library. His eyes followed your movements in silence as you scanned the shelves.

“Did you look here?” you asked when you spotted the book.

“Uh— no I just… asked.”

“I see. Here,” you said as you pulled the book out of the row and handed it to him. “This the one? Princess Ella is a series, this is the first.”

Gator frowned as he took the book from you and took in the cover.

“I think so…”

“What do you need it for, anyway?” It was out before you knew it. You���d normally never speak to a customer like that, however curiosity took the better of you. Gator seemed taken aback by the question and his soft expression turned sour.

“None of your business. So, do I check out? How does it work?”

“Do you have a library card?”

“No.”

“Then you’ll have to get one of those first. There are several plans, depending on how many books you want to borrow a year—”

“How the fuck would I know how many books I’m gonna borrow?”

“You take a guess.”

“Are you always this friendly to new customers?”

“I tend to be friendlier.”

“Then what did I do?”

“If only you knew, right?”

“Yeah, I’d love to know actually.”

“Shucks.”

Gator seemed ready to storm out the building. His need for the book seemed to trump that desire though.

“I’d like a library card, please. The middle plan or whatever.”

“There are actually four—”

“Just get me a goddamn card, woman!”

His patience long gone gave him more of that spicy hostility he naturally carried around him in school. Demanding he’d get what he wanted and if people didn’t want to dance to his demands, he’d make them. This persisted during his jock “career”. After his accident, he lost most of his bite. Kept to himself, struggled to graduate now that he was fully reliant on studying rather than being a good quarterback.

“Alright… I’ll just give you the second tier, then. You can always up your subscription, should you need more.”

Gator watched you as you calmly entered his name into the computer, screen turned a little so he could watch along.

“Wait… how’d you—”

“I need your date of birth, please.”

“Uh… April 2nd. 1995.”

“Alright… address?”

Dumbfounded, he gave you his home address, phone number and email. He was still looking at you, trying to figure you out.

“There you go,” you said once the card was done and you handed it to him.

“Thanks… but how?”

You shrugged.

“You introduced yourself earlier.”

“I didn’t… Did I?”

Clearly doubting himself, you decided to keep it at that. You figured it was better than explaining the alternative. There was no need. You checked out the book for him and before you knew it, he was on his way. The curiosity on why he needed this particular book lingered.

—

Two weeks later

Today had been a day of many returns. There were usually quite a few, but it felt like the amount had quadrupled this time. Somewhere behind you, you heard the familiar sound of the sliding doors opening. A person stomped in, presumably straight for the counter.

When the little bell on your desk was slammed on, you were certain.

“Hello?”

It didn’t register for you that it was him this time, the voice being too far away and muffled by the soft music you had playing in your ears. As you hurried over, you saw Gator waiting for you, book in hand.

“Hi,” you greeted him. He was wearing a scowl, as if you had done him wrong long before he even entered the building.

“They want the second part, do you have it?”

Gator pushed the book he previously checked out towards you, his library card on top.

“I’ll check.”

“Yeah, you go do that. Also, why didn’t you just say you knew who I was last time?”

“Huh?”

Gator frowned and crossed his arms. You imagined he tapped his foot impatiently.

“It took me a moment, but I remember you now. Why pretend?”

You hesitated. Did he really not know? He never outright bullied you, but he had made some snide remarks in passing. The usual stuff. Loser. Nerd. Nothing extreme, but him being a jock caused others to agree with his statements easily. And that sucked.

“I… You weren’t exactly nice to me back then, Gator.”

Gator groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face, his other arm falling to his side.

“So? It’s been what? Ten years? A lot can change in ten years.”

It was your turn to cross your arms this time. Easy for him to say. 

“A lot can also stick around for ten years.”

Gator noticed your expression and shook his head.

“Fuckin’ tell me about it. You listen to your dad calling you a waste of space, a loser, a failure all the fuckin’ time and have everyone else abandon you ‘cause they think you’re too much like the guy.”

“That’s no excuse to treat others badly though? I always thought you wanted to be just like him. Surely acted like it,” you huffed. Gator flinched, just slightly. He rested his palms upon the counter and shook his head.

“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t. I used to think becoming like him would be the only way for him to treat me… differently, I guess. When I got injured it turned me into someone I hated. But I also didn’t know who else to be… Why am I even—”

He shook his head, regret seeping in quickly at oversharing his thoughts and he pinched the bridge of his nose to shake off the overwhelming feelings. He avoided your gaze and never finished his sentence, probably hoping you’d fill the silence. You had no idea how to respond, so instead you moved away from the counter to go find the book he needed. Gator hesitantly followed, two steps only, before he spoke again.

“I’m different, is all I’m tryin’ to say, I guess.”

You turned around and found his expression to carry some desperation. As if you believing him was very important to him. Someone he didn’t even remember last time. You nodded slowly, then continued to walk.

“I guess it makes sense for you to not believe me. And uh… sorry for, uh, whatever I said. I’m sure it was… bad. It’s kind of a blur for me, but I know I wasn’t… good.”

The book was easy to find, though you took your sweet time as you tried to think of a response.

“Sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“Gator, I—”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to accept my apology. I know. That’s— I learned I can’t expect that stuff… my therapist used to say so.”

His eyes focused on his shoes. It was impossible to look at you now. Vulnerability was still very hard for him to adjust to. Hesitantly, you grabbed his hand so you could put the book in and then held onto it a little longer.

“I do accept your apology,” you said softly, making him look up at last.

“You do?”

“Mhm. On one condition,” you added, smiling softly. “Tell me, who are the books for?”

Gator smiled as he stuffed his hands into his pockets after tucking the book under his arm. He gently kicked his own foot with his own and took a moment to reply.

“They’re for my little neighbors. Two twin girls. I sometimes babysit them when their mom is at work and apparently they were really into this series.”

“Oh, so they’ve read it before? Don’t have it at home?”

Gator shook his head.

“No, uh, they do. Have it at home. I just…” Gator scratched the back of his neck as a blush crept on his cheeks. “I wanted to… practice? I sound so monotone when I read things, so I thought, if I know it by heart then I could just tell it without really having to read it, you know? Wanted to be a better storyteller I guess. I have no idea if they’d even notice the difference but—”

“I’m sure they do. That’s so…” cute. “Sweet of you.”

“You think?” Gator’s eyes were big, almost… hopeful. When you nodded, a shy smile spread on his face.

“How old are they? The twins.”

“Six.”

“That’s a fun age.”

“They’re real menaces, I’ll tell ya that. But they’re also adorable.”

He held the book in front of him now, holding onto it with both hands. Then, he remembered. With a little “oh”, he took the library card out of his pocket and handed it to you.

“Here.”

You chuckled softly.

“I almost forgot. And that when I gave you such a hard time to get a library card last time…” you mumbled softly as you scanned his card. Gator shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t being nice either, not remembering you at first and stuff.”

“I’ll admit that was a little annoying of you,” you told him with a smile.

Gator suddenly barked out a soft laugh in disbelief.

“A little? You were trying to kill me with your gaze!”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were all like…” Gator mimicked your expression from last time and you gently pushed his shoulder.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you laughed, and you were surprised how easy it was to smile with him now. He seemed to have the same realization at that time as you watched his gaze soften.

“You have a nice laugh,” Gator blurted, although he had attempted to say something else. He swallowed, blinked quickly. “I mean, it’s nice no longer being on your bad side.”

“Hm. I agree,” you told him softly. “It’s nice indeed. The- The last bit.”

“The first bit too, come on.”

“Maybe… I’ll think about it,” you mused and he smiled.

It was then when other customers came in, breaking the gentle spell between the two of you. Gator held your gaze for a moment, then looked away and put his card back into his pocket.

“I should go.”

“See you when you’re ready for the next part, I suppose?” you asked softly.

Gator smiled and gave you a nod.

“Yeah. See you soon. The books aren’t that thick, so,” he attempted at a joke.

You laughed as if it was really funny. It was kind of funny. Just not that funny. But it made him beam, made his eyes squint as he smiled at you, which made it worth it.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[selfindulgentpixies]

The hands that hold you: Satoru's birthday

I made it in time! So uh part of why I was able to get this out on time is I stopped trying to work in into one of the larger main chapters. It's shorter than my usual for this series but I hope you guys enjoy it all the same. I think I might do a few small independent small chapters like this for this series instead of making one big chapter that's all misc events that happen between hidden inventory and premature death. Simply because it feels weird putting so many kinda unrelated things in one big chapter. Please let me know what you think of this idea. Master list This is kind of chapter 10.1 but honestly it can be read independently from the rest of the series if you really want. Contents: SatoSugu x reader,Gn!reader, Satoru's 18th birthday. It's mostly silly fluff with just a slight sad undertone to it.

Satoru’s birthday is as much as a surprise as someone can manage for the wielder of The six eyes, meaning it’s no surprise at all. To the point where he pops up unannounced while you’re finishing up decorating his cake with Suguru.  You’re doing your best to pipe frosting flowers along the edge of the cake, Satoru always liked the pretty cakes at the bakeries you’d pass so you wanted to do your best to replicate them. Suguru had asked you why you didn’t just buy one of those but had understood when you said it just felt far more personal to make one yourself. Once Satoru is there though your efforts of trying to make the frosting pretty don’t matter a whole lot as he swipes a finger through the frosting and pops it into his mouth. The whole situation devolves into messy blue frosting kisses and maybe you being slightly indignant until he expresses how much he loves the cake.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could baaake?” Satoru whines, trying to grab for you so he can press another sweet kiss against your lips though you duck away with a laugh. 

“Knowing your sweet tooth I wanted to save it for a special occasion!”  

“And what a special occasion it is.” Suguru says smoothly as he wraps his arms around Satoru’s waist, holding  a small wrapped box for him in one hand. He hooks his chin over Satoru’s shoulder. Satoru takes the gift  and with a  flash of a grin presses a messy frosting kiss to Suguru’s cheek causing him to wrinkle his nose and making you giggle at the two of them. He tucks his face against Satoru’s neck to hide his smile and makes a further mess of the frosting.  “Satoru, hurry up and open it,” he says with a huff of a laugh muffled into Satoru’s neck.

“Fiiine,” He drawls dramatically, finally turning his attention to the prettily wrapped package. He thinks you must have wrapped it, the intricately tied gold ribbon, wrapped around  the dark blue and slightly iridescent paper. Inside is a newly released copy of twilight princess and a grin splits across his features, his dimples standing out starkly. 

The three of you stay up until the early hours. You and Suguru sitting on either side of Satoru as he plays the game. But when his eyes finally start to grow heavy and he slumps to the side against Suguru’s chest after finally finding a good place to save the three of you lapse into quiet conversation. Suguru is playing with Satoru's hair when finally instead of a proper response Satoru lets out a soft snore. Warmth blooms in your chest seeing the gentle smile on Suguru’s face even if his eyes seem a little sad.  He starts to look toward you when he catches movement and you shake your head. 

“No no stay like that.” You say quietly and he immediately stills, allowing  you to  take a picture. Satisfied and heart full, you tuck away the camera in your hoodie pocket.  Suguru gives you an exasperated eye roll but stays quiet for Satoru. He gestures for you to come join Satoru against his chest. 

“I don’t wanna wake him up-” then without much coordination and zero warning Satoru’s hand shoots out looking for you until he snags your wrist and drags you over to him and Suguru causing you to let out a startled yelp. Suguru lets out a low and tired chuckle as you let out yet another sound, this one caught between a squeal and laugh as Satoru bites the fat of your cheek. You squirm, trying to free yourself. “You were snoring! You were supposed to be asleep?!”

“How am I supposed to sleep on my birthday if I don’t have both my favorite people?” 

His words make your cheeks flare with heat. Sure you knew he cared for you but hearing it put like that, being placed next to Suguru so firmly makes- there’s a camera flash. In the stunned silence that had followed his words Satoru had sneakily pulled your camera from the pocket you’d slipped it in and snapped a picture of the three of you. Smuggly Satoru sets the camera aside. He glances between the two of you and the smuggness fades just a bit as he shifts to get more comfortable with the two of you. “Neither of you better try to sneak away in the middle of the night. I’ll wake up and drag you back. It’s been forever since I had you both with me.” 

“What if one of us needs to use the bathroom?” . 

“Easy. Then we all go,” Satoru says simply. “Absolutely not!” You swat at his chest.

“Okay then you can p- mmpf!” Suguru’s hand cups over Satoru’s mouth. 

“Just go to sleep, birthday boy.” his voice sleepy and fond in equal measure. He releases Satoru’s mouth and skims his fingers along his jaw to which Satoru’s brings up his own hand to capture Suguru’s so he can bring it back to his lips to press a kiss to his palm before releasing him. Then he tucks his face against the top of your head and while it’s quiet you could swear you hear a softly murmured ‘thank you’. 

You smile warmly, the last words to leave you that night spoken against Satoru’s neck. “Happy birthday, Satoru.” and to him they sound an awful lot like ‘i love you’. Later when you get the time to get the pictures developed you’ll be surprised by the fact that you and Suguru are sharing similar expressions in the photo Satoru took. You don’t understand how Satoru’s words could take Suguru so off guard when to you it’s obvious how much he cares for him. How much he loves him. How strange it is then that you don’t realize that Suguru will think the same thing when he sees the picture.

__

And that's it! Like I said at the top I'd love to hear from you guys if you like idea of smaller snippets like this for this series. They may not be as linear as the main story but for now they're all meant to take place between hidden inventory and premature death for now.

Tag list! (must be 18+ and not a blank blog to be added): @t-tomuras @pastelle-rabbit @nanamikentoseyebags @biscuitsngravie @sleezzsister @moonsua1 @yuuuumii @yokaimoon @chibiizzy @porridgesblog @suhmie @defacatestenderly @agentdedf1sh @night-shadowblood-writes2 @missphanosaur18 @stevenknightmarc

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Would you be able to do another Alicent Hightower x fem reader headcanon/imagine? Maybe where the reader is a targaryen/velaryon but enjoys fighting/hunter instead of normal “lady” things?? I’m not great at coming up with prompts so srry if it’s bad, but there’s a lack of Alicent content and I really need some. Thanks!

-🐢

Title: Green With Envy

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,482

Summary: Y/n Velaryon is the best of both of her siblings. She’s a cunning warrior and skilled in fighting like Ser Laenor, and is one of the best dragon riders in all the Seven Kingdoms, like Lady Laena. Alicent would be a fool not to notice this.

Warnings: Anxiety, mostly. Alicent’s riddled with it.

Author’s Note: It’s a short one but I loved the idea of it, nonetheless. I hope you enjoy!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

“Cousin Y/n. Walk with me. I wish to hear about the years we’ve been apart.”

Alicent could feel her face twist momentarily into a frown against her will as she watched Y/n and a pregnant Rhaenyra leave the room, arm-in-arm, behind her wine cup.

Between the chaos of Vemond Velaryon’s death and the King’s wish for a family dinner, Alicent hasn’t had her usual warrior to stand by her side. Y/n had been reuniting with her nieces and nephews and allowing her mother to dote on her. Alicent couldn’t feel envy from this. Princess Rhaenys lost two of her children in a short span of time, and she would no doubt want to spend her days in King’s Landing beside her last living child.

No, what truly thrusted envy into Alicent’s heart was Rhaenyra, once again taking whatever she wanted without ever facing the consequences. Surely, the princess wasn’t stupid enough to take Y/n away from Alicent as well as everything else. Nothing will take the Queen’s sword shield from her. Nothing.

Y/n has done the impossible. She fought all odds and survived her birth. She claimed the Bronze Fury, Vermithor when she was only ten years old. She rose to the ranks of knighthood even though she was a woman. She put herself in the King’s court and swore fealty to the Queen... She even stole that queen’s heart.

Ser Y/n Velaryon is a perfect mixture of both her brother and sister, therefore a storm, not even her father could tame. And like any storm her family avoids, she swallows up and takes what she wants without mercy. But like many storms, Y/n is also forgiving and gentle, proving the fruits of her labor is well worth her knighthood. She believes in faith and justice, much like a true knight often portrayed in a little girl’s fantasy.

If Alicent was still a little girl, she would have considered Y/n the knight of her fantasy. Now a woman grown, she looks at Y/n and sees so much more. Y/n is more than just the Maiden or the Father. She is the Warrior as well, all of them reincarnated into this woman to tempt the Queen Consort.

Y/n was a powerful ally to the Greens, which made Alicent all the more concerned at the thought of Rhaenyra stealing her away. Should the Blacks want to take her sworn shield, Alicent would be sure to make their efforts a living hell.

These thoughts kept her awake for most of the night, waiting anxiously for her sworn shield’s return. A knock suppresses her door, and the Queen bids whoever was there to enter. Ser Y/n marches in, her helmet under her arm as she dutifully bows her head to Alicent, “Your Grace.”

“What did Princess Rhaenyra want from you?” Was the first thing Alicent could find within herself to ask, standing from her chair by the hearth.

Y/n smiled slightly as she raised her head, “She wanted to know how my days in court have been. She congratulated me when I told her how I was your sworn shield.”

Suspicious and on edge, Alicent clasped her hands together so as not to pick her nails, “That’s all you spoke of?”

“We talked about the baby for the most part. She’s very confident it’s a girl.”

The Queen forces herself to relax, unwinding her hands to lean on the back of the chair. Alicent takes a deep breath, watching the flames dance in the hearth, “I see.”

She hears Y/n’s armor as the female knight takes slow steps forward, and with each step comes the beating of Alicent’s heart, pounding in her ears, “Your Grace, I fear I have news from my mother that may concern you if you mind me telling.”

Her heart sinks before Alicent forces herself to remain undeterred, briefly nodding her head in her shield’s direction, “Please do.”

“She spoke of my father and his health and then mentioned a letter he had sent to her before he sustained his injury. As you well know, with Laenor and Laena dead... Lord Corlys no longer has an heir to Driftmark until Prince Lucerys comes of age. His legacy is dwindling... and so he wishes me to go home and marry the son of a Sealord of Braavos.”

The crackling of the fire fills the room and drowns out the silence. Alicent’s eyes finally move to meet Y/n’s gaze as her stomach drops with dread, “... What?”

Y/n’s sigh was heavy, internal mourning shadowing her features as her eyes dance over Alicent’s, “I am Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys’ last living child... and I am unwed and childless.”

“But you’re a knight!”

A scowl takes its place on the knight’s lips as she spoke ill of her father, “Not even Lord Corlys believes that my vows ring true because of my sex.”

Alicent scoffs in disbelief, turning around and drawing closer to the fire as her nails finally rise to her mouth. Her fingers shake against her lips, her teeth desperately wanting to tear at the skin around her nails, desperate to feel the familiar sting to relieve the stress of her troubles. It was as she feared. The Blacks wanted Y/n, as powerful as she is, with her dragon and her lust for battle. Rhaenyra, yet again, wants to take everything as hers knowing that there is no one able to tell her ‘no’. The princess wants nothing but to cause Alicent pain, as she always has. Even when they were girls, lovesick and innocent of the world, Rhaenyra did as she pleased and gave Alicent grief for worrying so much about her public figure. Either Rhaenyra was blind to life’s expectations of her as a woman, or she just didn’t care and wanted to fly her dragon with Alicent at her back. It was stupid, wishful thinking at the time, and even after all these years, Rhaenyra seems determined to prove her point by taking whoever she wants whenever she wants.

And yet, Alicent also couldn’t help but think of this small betrayal as a political move. House Velaryon was, by all accounts, loyal to Rhaenyra and her succession to the Iron Throne, through her marriage to Laenor and Corlys’ ambition for power. If the Sea Snake felt threatened by the Greens in any way, he would want his daughter removed from her service to Queen Alicent. Rhaenyra might have been aware of this prior to her arrival at the Capitol and could have wanted to persuade her cousin Y/n to the Blacks.

This hardens Alicent’s heart, her back straightening until she’s the regal queen the public believes her to be, her fingers falling from her lips to draw to her sides. Remembering her station and place in this world, Alicent’s persona becomes stern and confident, unlike the young lady she once was, full of crippling anxiety. Turning away from the hearth, Alicent points her gaze back to Y/n.

The change in her posture must have been obvious as Y/n slowly straightens to attention, watching her carefully as Alicent stepped closer. The Queen took several steps until she was close enough to feel Y/n’s breath on her forehead, then proceeded to lift a hand to rest on her sworn shield’s chest plate. With determination and authority, Alicent spoke as clearly as possible, “You are sworn to me. You made your vows to me. As your Queen, I forbid it. I forbid you from leaving King’s Landing. I pray for your father’s recovery... only so that I can tell him this myself.”

Her hand trails further up until it rests on the side of Y/n’s face, and finally, the knight relaxes against Alicent’s touch, shoulders slouching in relief as if she was worried the Queen would obey her father’s wishes. In a small whisper, Y/n nods to Alicent, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Alicent nods sternly despite the hammering of her heart and her wish to smile. Instead, she pulls away, immediately missing the feel of Y/n’s flesh against her skin, but refused to show it. Clasping her hands together to keep them from touching Y/n again, Alicent lifts her chin high, “Tomorrow, I wish to meet Vermithor officially. You must introduce me.”

Y/n’s eyes widen in shock and Alicent can’t entirely blame her for the surprise. She didn’t know what came over her, but Alicent didn’t dare take it back. She was always wary about dragons, even as a girl. She always refused a ride when Rhaenyra offered to take her on Syrax, yet to Alicent, this felt entirely different. Y/n is not Rhaenyra, and Alicent always feels the need to be a part of Y/n’s life, in every way she can be. Knowing her sworn shield to be a dragon rider didn’t bother Alicent like she thought it would, and perhaps that’s how she knew she was in love with Y/n.

Her sworn knight smiled widely, her eyes gleaming against the flames of the hearth, cheeks warm as she bowed, “As you command, My Queen.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Please leave your support and if you want a request, send a raven and leave it in the ask box!

[whoblewboobear]

I see your Jace loving cats and raise you Jace loving all weird, ugly and gross creatures and finding them unbelievable adorable.

In particular a mystery creature that looks like a mixture of a slug, Chinese crested dog and an open wound. Her name is Honeybun and she is Jaces precious little angel princess that he loves with all his heart.

What kind of species is she? Who knows for all anyone can tell she might as well be an eldritch horror rejected from her own realm for being too gross. Jace did find her in a shockingly empty level of a dungeon back in his adventuring days but he tries not to dwell on that fact too much.

Some of Honeybuns ‘quirks’ include:

.adversion to sunlight (Jace has a special desk draw he stuffs her into at work, he’s not leaving his baby all by herself at home)

.the ability to spit/vomit acid by accident and possibly on command

.looking at her for to long may cause different orifices to bleed (Jace is somehow immune to this, he claims it’s through the power of love, it’s more likely he’s just been exposed some much to her that he’s become immune/resistant)

.needing to be moisturised at least once a day otherwise she’ll shed her entire skin with said skin gaining some form of sentience unless it’s burned immediately.

Jace also calls honeybuns his familiar even though she offers no advantage to magic, or really anything.

Honestly it’s hard to decide if honeybuns even like’s Jace, is aware of anything or is in fact actively trying to kill.

Is her spitting up acid onto Jaces arm an upset stomach or purposely trying to hurt him? Her crawling over and onto the bed to watch him sleep could either be affectionate or her planning his death (how did she even manage that it taken her an hour to crawl/slide like 6 feet!) and when Jace swaddles her in his scarf like a baby does she calm down because she enjoys it or is more like how birds go limp and catatonic when they’re eyes are covered?

Jace mostly tries to keep honeybuns existence a secret since for reasons he can’t understand most people are scared/disgusted by his sweet little Angel.

So imagine Porters surprise one night when they’re staying late after work (either to work on the plan or just school stuff) and Jaces phone begins to beep an alarm before he opens a desk draw he normally keeps locked and pulls out honeybun. He begins softly cooing at her while rubbing coconut oil into its skin while the creature (porter assumes it’s a creature, it’s definitely breathing and seems to somewhat respond to Jaces touch) lays across his lap.

Porters pretty sure his nose has began to bleed when Jace seemingly having forgotten Porter was there until that moment looks up sheepishly and smiles before introducing him to honeybun, his familiar.

Also while Porter is utterly freaked out by honeybun and makes no effort to hide it (he woke up one night to find honeybuns sitting on his chest, just watching him. He immediately launched her across the room and ran outside shrieking so loudly next door called the cops. Jace was so upset for his poor baby he refused to put her down the entire night and even hand fed honeybun her favourite treat, raw chicken heart. He promises Porter that it just means honeybun likes him and that she watches him sleep all the time, Porter is not comforted by this info)

Zara has similar feelings as Porter towards honeybun, but for Jaces sake try’s to not let it show and be supportive e.g Zara trying to find something nice to say about honey bun “well at least she’s quiet and remains mostly still” honeybun as if on que begins to randomly shriek and throw her body and limbs around like she’s on fire.

Zara trying to comfort Jace who’s worried about honeybun as she somehow managed to eat 2 different scented candles, a wheel of extension cords and a bottle of ambrosia (yes even the glass bottle): we could always take her to the vet if your truly that concerned?

Jace: you know I can’t Zara, every time I do they just keep trying to put her down saying that’s it’s a crime against nature and humanity to let something like her continue living :(

Zara:…. Right how could I forget.

Xx

Anon i need you to know just how much I love Honeybuns. She's giving jackalope meets lovecraftian horror. I also love that Jace is never beating little weirdo freak allegations. Is Honeybuns an abomination? Yes but Jace loves her! Absolutely obsessed with her!!

Your mind is beautiful, anon! Thank you for sharing this with me~

[miitarashi]

Looking after you,is my duty

Words: 1,3k

[Name] = reader (female)

Warnings: mention of death (tiny little),misspeling words, flirting, fluffy.

——————————————————————

Tintin was infiltrated in the castle belonging to your family since he discovered a plot between the king's advisor and his brother about killing the firstborn (you) and acquiring the crown after the death of the current king, your father. That would be their next step. It had only been a week and unfortunately, the counselor acted cautiously so as not to show signs, seeming to know that he was being watched while Tintin acted like a common guard.

In the meantime, Tintin made a point of at least letting the king know and this created rumors around the castle, as a precaution the king increased his guard which consequently became a threat to the advisor and perhaps due to the pressure, he would have a slip up that the journalist could catch, however, he still held firm to the facade and Tintin did the same. In compensation for giving the king advice, he entrusted him with your safety, making him your royal guard.

Now assigned to protect the princess, Tintin saw an opportunity there, being by your side he could maybe enter places only available to people of nobility, not the guards. Unfortunately, precisely because you were the princess, even as the future queen, your father made a point of leaving you out of matters relating to rumors so as not to cause stress. Although you didn't necessarily follow your father's orders and tried to help, which in turn became very useful for the undercover guard next to you.

That is until your father found out and vehemently forbade you from any involvement, leaving you in the dark about the situation again which was beyond frustrating, a great injustice and Tintin couldn't help but feel sorry because in the end, you were just worried about wanting to help and protect your father. Even so, it wasn't wrong, as your guard he wanted to keep you protected and with that, he redoubled his efforts to not expose you to that risk.

Never completely looking away from the advisor, the ginger-haired boy continued his duty as a guard and in a way, even as a friend, helping you with your tasks, recommending some books he had already read that could be found in the castle's large library and even in the midst of this complicated situation, your small details did not go unnoticed by the journalist's eyes.

Much like any royal person, you had a natural air of elegance, but soft in a way. Never acting above, always putting yourself on the same level as anyone before making decisions, the warm and gentle manner being your usual self along with your ability to stand up for yourself when something happened, although he had to help you at some point ,mostly you were the one taking care of yourself. Tintin acted more like a companion than a guard and you noticed that, finding it pretty funny because you weren't the only one,a lot of other guards, even maids, always had the same impression.

Even more so due to the fact that he almost followed you constantly, keeping watch like a guard dog, despite always maintaining a satisfactory distance so as not to be too much in your personal space. It got to the point where you had to stop yourself from patting his head when thanking him for his protection.

After another ordinary day, where Tintin remained with an attentive eye on both you and the counselor, subtly observing from the window as you enjoyed the soft taste of the tea, you couldn't avoid a question that had taken up a permanent place in your head,as his efforts seemed a little exaggerated and exhausting since you had only seen him resting a few times.

"Tell me, would you like to have a day to yourself?" — Tintin looked at you somewhat confused, raising an eyebrow at the question.

"A day for me, your majesty? May i dare to ask why such a question?" — the confusion perpetuates in his voice, making you giggle a little in response putting back the cup on the table.

"A break. During this month, even though you maintained a certain posture, you still seemed tense in a certain way, now it's not an exception" — when you pointed out the fact, his eyes widened a little, noticing that his body was actually a bit stiff, possibly due to the constant precipitation of the counselor's possible plan.

"Even on your breaks, you refuse to rest, so i would like to give you a completely free day, another guard can take your place until then, so you can take a well deserved rest" — your kindness was both pleasant and a certain relief.

Tintin gave a soft laugh, shaking his head before looking at you again, not only this act of kindness but your manner as a whole was more than enough for him. Your ordinary calm and understanding posture was like a calming snapshot, he just hadn't noticed because of his focus on the main problem.

"I'm truly grateful for such kindness, your majesty, but I prefer to keep my watch. I like to think that no one protects you better than me" — such was his calm, that he allowed himself a light joke that was not uncommon between you two by the time he was acting like your royal guard. However, this one brought a slight blush to your cheeks that you tried to cover up with a light laugh.

"Oh...a little hard-headed i see, does such insistence come from just that?" — you gave in to the joke and got up, walking calmly towards your guard, being careful to hide a feather duster behind your back.

"Looking after you,is my duty" — he maintained his posture, even noticing that look behind the gentle face you normally maintain. Just another one of the things he found interesting about you or maybe even enticing.

"Is that the only reason why you do it?" — you asked, taking a few more steps forward, getting closer and closer to him maintaining eye contact, momentarily losing yourself in his gaze.

"Is that not a reason enough?" — he retort with an eyebrow a bit raised.

"If that's the only reason that there is...?" — your voice sounded a little low due to the proximity, enough for him to hear and notice the slight change in tone, your sly side coming through little by little as your hand with the feather duster moves slowly towards him.

"Your majesty..." — noticing how close he was and the nature of the situation, for a moment he remained still and without response. Your face so close but still distant, your gaze fixed on his making his heart subtly accelerate.

"Yes...?" — managing to distract him, you started rubbing the duster on his sides, trying to get some laughs out of him although the closeness was making you think that just to bend over and go for it wasn't a bad option…

"I'm...not ticklish" — at the last second he managed to compose himself when he saw that your objective wasn't exactly what he thought when he noticed the duster.

"Awww, i was sure i would make a laugh or two out of you" — you could only lament with a small laugh before walking away. Tintin took a deep breath to regulate his heart beat, lowering his guard hat a little to hide the tiny red tint on his cheeks.

"Well, at least i distracted you a bit out from work, it was worth it" — you smiled and he did the same with a nod.

"Yes..you did. Thank you, your majesty"

He bowed as you set the duster aside and went back to enjoying your tea while watching the scenery through the window with a small blush as well.

Both of you are internally a little frustrated, but thinking it better not to put too much pressure on the situation, although maybe, someday after he finishes the case...he might do it before leaving…

Who knows?...

——————————————————————

A/N: hey there! Just testing this style of writing, it's a bit different in a way. Next sunday i'll post a request! Thank you for reading! Bye bye 😘

[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

Aemond Targaryen x OC!femTargaryen

The Dance of Dragons has finally met its bitter end, and left Saesha Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, without her entire family.

In a last ditch effort to put the war to bed for good and unite a broken realm, the victorious Greens seal a marriage pact between the last survivor of the Blacks, and the notorious second son, Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: violence, smut, language (all the good stuff), incest (duh, but I’m not gonna remind you every five seconds.)

Masterlist

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Chapter One

~Saesha~

Saesha Targaryen opted to arrive in King’s Landing on dragonback, rather than by ship. She’d been ushered from her home on Dragonstone and forced into a marriage with the same enemies who saw to the death of her entire family. She would arrive as a true Targaryen, lest they forget she was of Fire and Blood too.

She had claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, who ironically was the only dragon to challenge Vhagar in size. She wondered if her betrothed would feel threatened by this. She doubted it.

The sight of the Red Keep emerging from the heavy fog pulled her from her thoughts. The Black Water was covered with blanket of mist as Vermithor coasted quietly over the bay. She would not be landing at the Dragonpit. Instead, Saesha brought Vermithor down in the upper courtyard of the Keep. As the enormous dragon cut through the fog, she heard shouts from the soldiers manning the walls.

Vermithor roared as he landed, and as Saesha dropped from his back she looked around to see armed soldiers forming a circle around her and her mount. Saesha scoffed, as if a single word wouldn’t have every one of them in ashes.

She held up her arms in mock surrender. “Is there no one named Targaryen here to greet me?” She called out to the soldiers, “Or at the very least a Hightower.”

The soldiers seemed to relax slightly, some of them looking to others for some sort of queue. She had been expected after all, only they were prepared to meet her at the harbor two days from now.

Finally, Otto Hightower emerged from the ranks. He was unmistakable for Saesha, and the hand pin on his lapel only confirmed it.

“Princess,” he called to her, a mocking smile on his lips, “welcome to King’s Landing. We had not expected you yet… nor on dragonback.”

“Apologies, my Lord Hand,” Saesha replied, bowing comedically deep. “I wished to not be parted from my dragon, and I so despise traveling by sea.”

The Hand only bowed, extending an arm toward the Keep, indicating her to follow. Saesha did as she was bid and was lead through the Keep and to her appointed chambers. The room was mostly bare, save the canopy bed to her left and some other furniture here and there.

A tapestry might be nice, she thought, staring at the blank stone walls.

A knock sounded at the heavy double doors, and Saesha beckoned them to enter. A servant appeared, bowing before her. “Princess,” the servant greeted, “the Queen Mother wishes to see you, once you are settled.”

Straight into the fire, she thought with a rueful grin.

“No need to settle,” she told the servant. All of her things were to follow by ship in a few days anyway. “We will go now.”

She followed the boy through the cavernous corridors, making note of his nervous and quick steps. When she finally reached another set of ornately carved double doors, she realized they were not at the Queen Mother’s chambers. She’d been in the Red Keep only a year ago, with her mother. That felt like a decade now, but no so long that she didn’t recognize where they were.

The soldiers posted outside leaned in and pulled the doors open, revealing the small council chamber. Alicent Hightower sat at the head of the table. To her right was Otto Hightower, and to her left a man Saesha didn’t recognize. She saw all of them only for a fleeting moment, because beside Otto sat a tall, silver-haired man adorned with an leather eyepatch that could only be Aemond Targaryen.

They stared hard at each other. Aemond’s gaze gave nothing away. Saesha tried her very best to keep her own face completely neutral.

“Princess Saesha,” Alicent smiled, breaking the tension and her gaze from Aemond. “I am pleased you have made it to us safely.”

She smiled, bowing politely. If her mother taught her anything, it was that being in King’s Landing meant playing the game. She didn’t intend on losing.

“I must apologize for not sending word of my early arrival,” Saesha said politely. “My decision to arrive on dragonback was… a spontaneous one.”

Aemond Targaryen laughed through his nose. Her wild, violet eyes snapped back to him at the sound. They watched each other for just a moment.

“Your apology is unnecessary,” Alicent assured, a lingering gaze cast on her son. “I myself must apologize for calling you here so soon after your arrival. I was just so eager to reacquaint and make certain you had all that you needed.”

To make your measure of me, Saesha thought, to see what the war has made me.

Saesha nodded, “My things are to arrive with the boats from Dragonstone. Until then I think I can make do.”

She bowed again and turned to take her leave, but stopped. She turned to face the council again, this time addressing Aemond alone. “My prince, I hoped you would escort me to the training yard with you in the morning. My father taught me how to use a sword and I’d like to practice.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, and had an intrigued look in his eye. “Of course, princess. If it please you.”

She grinned, “Why it indeed would please me.”

Aemond faltered, only slightly, but she saw it. “Now, if I may excuse myself, I’m very tired. I will you see you on the morrow, my prince.” With that, she turned and exited the chamber without another word from anyone.

~Aemond~

The council chamber was quiet after she left. Until Aemond’s grandsire cleared his throat, “Well, she certainly has Rhaenyra’s spirit.”

His mother only looked sad. Aemond was thinking.

She was not quite so different from when he had last seen her, only she seemed more bold now. Nothing to lose, he thought.

Aemond excused himself from the chamber and started down the hall. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just somewhere else. His footsteps echoed as he marched, blazing around a corner to come colliding into someone.

Her.

“My apologies,” she said quickly, taking a step back.

“The fault is mine,” he replied. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Saesha smiled. Every time she smiled there was something wicked in it. It drew him to her. “Neither was I,” she said quietly.

Aemond did not know what to say to her. He did not really know her. “Excuse me, princess,” he said formally as he stepped out of her way, “I will get you from your chambers early tomorrow. I do not hope too early for you.”

She smiled that glinting smile again. “I will be waiting for you.”

He watched her walk down the hall until she slipped around another corner. She was quite beautiful, more so than before. A year ago, Saesha Targaryen had been soft, still a girl surrounded by her family. Now she was alone, and harder than before.

He was surprised at her willingness to spend time with him. After all it was his act that sparked the bloodshed ending in her family’s ruin. He murdered her little brother. Even if it was an accident, she’d never believe him. He was suspicious of her and massively intrigued by her at the same time.

He went to bed wondering.

Aemond found himself waking up earlier than he usually did the next morning. The sky was still dark when he dressed. He made sure his eyepatch was secure before sitting by the hearth, a book in his lap. He read by candlelight until the sky turned pale with first light.

He closed the book and started down the corridor toward Saesha’s chambers. Aemond had no idea how this little sparring session would go. He couldn’t tell if she was playing some elaborate trick on him. She seems clever enough to do so, he thought.

Finally he was at her door, knocking firmly on the carved surface. It opened immediately, and suddenly Aemond was face to face with her. Saesha was in all black, matching him. She was in the council chamber as well. Her silver hair was braided back elaborately in true Targaryen fashion. She was every ounce a Valyrian of Old, unlike her bastard half-brothers.

“Good morning, my prince,” she said, unmoving.

He stared down at her, a low hum in his chest. “Shall we, princess?”

They walked silently down to the training yard. Strangely, Aemond felt at ease in this silence. She kept in stride with him easily, despite being significantly shorter.

Ser Criston Cole was already in the yard, setting out the sparring swords. “Prince Aemond,” he greeted, smiling. Ser Criston saw Saesha behind him then, and cocked his head. “Princess Saesha,” he addressed her with much less warmth, “I did not expect you here to spectate today.”

Saesha grinned, “Not to worry, Ser, I am not here to spectate.”

She stepped forward, picking up one of the sparring blades.

“I must protest, princess,” Ser Criston began, “I cannot spar with a princess, Gods forbid I harm her.”

“I am grateful I can put you at ease once again then,” Saesha circled them both, finally landing in front of Aemond, “I will not be sparring you, but Prince Aemond.”

She pointed the sword at Aemond, a taunting smirk on her lips. “Come along, my prince. Do not lose your fire now.” Her taunting smirk was gone, and suddenly there was a serious look on her face. Her violet eyes burned.

Aemond took up a sparring sword. He leveled it at her, then raised his chin, beckoning her to begin. She stepped forward quickly, throwing a jab at him to the right. He deflected it easily. Saesha stepped back briefly before advancing again, slashing, quite predictably, to his left. Aemond swatted the hit away again, smirking.

“Do not be discouraged, princess,” Aemond said, taunting, “I have spent many hours in this yard, and I’ve fought a war.”

Saesha grinned, the fire still bright in her eyes. She was at him again in a flash, bringing her sword up across his leather tunic. If the sword had an edge, a thin line would’ve cut diagonally across his abdomen.

As Aemond found his guard again, Saesha ducked under his arm and summoned a dagger he never knew she had, holding its point to the back of his rib cage. This blade most certainly had an edge to it.

“Do not forget, princeling,” she whispered harshly, “it was my war too.”

Saesha sheathed the dagger back at her hip through a convenient hole in her skirts. Aemond watched her do it. He clenched his jaw, suddenly feeling angry. Bested by her.

She left the yard after that, and Aemond found he didn’t feel like training much anymore. He retreated instead to the library, finding it dark and quiet and full of other lands to escape to.

The war had hurt Aemond. It left him scarred and hollow. There were still those who muttered kinslayer. The blood on his hands rarely bothered him. Why should it? He thought, What choice did I have?

For some reason it bothered him today. It was her. Saesha Targaryen who he’d silently admired, curious and drawn to her fire. They were both blood of the dragon, he could tell. The same side of the coin.

Aemond didn’t grieve the number of men he killed, he knew she wouldn’t either. He knew she could kill, she showed him today.

It didn’t matter.

What he did grieve today, was the fact the he had murdered Lucerys Velaryon. He hadn’t meant to do it, in perfect and plain truth. But somehow having a hand in the collapse of Saesha’s family felt… dark.

It was my war too, her words echoed to him. Aemond wondered how many men she’d killed, burned on the field of battle. Had she ever cut someone down, the way she pretended to with him?

The door to the library squeaked open. Aemond watched with his remaining eye, his mother crossing the room to sit across the table he had seated himself at. Alicent reached over the book laid open in front of him, clasping his hand in her own.

“The wedding is in two weeks,” she said after a long silence.

Aemond only nodded. It didn’t really matter to him when the wedding was. He had known he was to marry Saesha for what felt like a long time now.

“I heard your morning did go over so smoothly,” said Alicent.

Aemond scoffed, “Apparently my wife will not be needing very much of my protection.”

Alicent had the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I hope that you will find some semblance of happiness together.”

Aemond sighed, “I do not think she will accept me. Not after Lucerys.”

It felt strange to him to say his name. The name of the ghost who had haunted him for so long.

“I am sorry for what you had to do for this family,” Alicent replied. She looked tired.

“I am not,” Aemond stated. “We are alive.”

[mysticarts]

Some questions while I am redesigning Yuhe:

1. What's your lmk ocs fears?

2. How organize is your lmk ocs? (Ex: Room, or their hygiene or how they take care of themselves.)

3. In your Lackadaisy sequel au how does the Lackadaisy (And Marigold) crew react to Carmen's death? Do they know or not? (Have they visited her funeral? Or where she is buried?)

4. What's Carmen's voice claim?

5. In the sequel au how will Nia react if Lucio tried trimming his hair to be in shoulder length, since his hair have grow too long for a year and is annoyed, but he is afraid to do it? because some of the scissors are a bit sharp causing him to get anxiety trigger from it? (Usually he doesn't have a problem with sharp objects when he works at Marigold, but after quiting his job, he has a feeling he'll accidentally hurt himself but that isn't important. What's concerning to him he might hurt Nia when out of control his like Freckle but more controlled of himself, hence why he throws sharp objects, except kitchen tools away.)

That's all have a good day/Night!

heeeyaaa!

This is gonna be a list man-

Hui Ying: MAJOR fear of dogs. No one knows why, she just is. Hui Ying also hates being in a dark and small space for too long

Tai: funny enough, Tai has a fear of love. Romantic love, to be specific. Tai doesn't really understand the concept of love, and considering his ex iterally left him in shambles, Tai has a huge fear of falling in love with someone....too bad it's already happening to him

Shuimu: Claustrophobia (fear of small spaces) and also chains. Shuimu hates being in enclosed and tight spaces, and hates chains Even more. Which makes sense cause she was chained by her mouth under a mountain engulfed in water for years.

Yujin: Fear of failure. Yujin usually succeeds when she goes on a mission or does work, as she puts all of her effort into something. So when a plan fails, Yujin starts to overthink and shame herself. This mostly stems from her try to help her family, but still couldn't do nothing in the end.

2. Again, I shall also put this in a list-

Hui ying: Hui Ying's room is usually a mess, riddled with pictures, photos, maps, etc. This is mostly because Hui Ying is very fascinated by the Mortal world, and wants to learn about it as much as possible. As for their own hygiene, Hui Ying takes care of herself pretty well!

Tai: Tai's room is spotless. Like I mean, SPOTLESS. Except his desk. Tai likes to explore technology and see what it can do, so he usually invents stuff on his desk and leaves them there. He knows no one will touch it unless asking for a respectful death scentence. Tai probably has the best hygiene routine out of all of my lmk ocs. He does skin care, hair care, all the works.

Shuimu: Shuimu is a VEERY messy person, she'll use stuff, leave it there, and then forget to put it back constantly. This makes Shuimu loose a lot of things constantly. As for her hygiene, she's trying her best to learn, with Hui Ying helping her out. Due to Shuimu's amnesia, she dosent remember much about personal hygiene

Yujin: Yujin has a very fancy room, so of course she keeps it spotless.....if you minus the fact some of her work papers will be scattered across the room because sometimes Yujin pulls all nighters. This leads to Yujin forgetting to do proper hygiene, with hui Ying and the other maids in the castle to force Yujin to take a break for once.

3. Both the Lackadaisy and Marigolds heard about Carmen's death, as it did make headline news. However none of the marigolds showed up at her funeral except Mordecai. All of the Lackadaisy crew was there at her funeral as her ashes where buried. Mitzi and Zib where in the most sad out of the lackadaisy crew. Carmen was buried right besides her mother, Avis.

4. I.......still haven't decided yet. But for now currently it's Tiana from princess and the frog!

5. Nia, also like freckle, also goes insane when holding a possible dangerous object. However, it's only with explosives. And considering Nia would be much better controlled about it due to Carmen's teachings, Nia would either take Lucio to a professional hairdresser to get his hair done, or cuts it herself. Nia almost cut her hair off, but her hair length was the same as Carmen's so Nia kept it the same.

Ty for asking these! Also, I heard that Yuhen likes stars and cosmo stuff, so I found these clothes on pintrest for them!

anyway, feel free to ask questions everyone!

[kirchefuchs]

heyy so remember the Skip Button Ending

allow me to just tell u a bit of smthn that constantly resides in my brain

The Skip Button Ending happened in The Narrator's memory zone

When Stanley disappeared for so long, not only did The Skip Button turn into The Narrator's past, it slowly became the only memory he knew. That was why the door disappeared; there were no other places in the memory zone. The Narrator locked himself in his past, present.. ..and future.

And guess what happened when The Narrator died and Stanley was able to get out? There were no other memories; just the broken reminiscence of the skip button.

anywho so that's why I'm sad today

—🅰️non

Oh wow. Okay. That's heartbreaking and absolutely awesome. I love this idea so much.

(I'm about to go on a super long tangent so I'm putting a readmore here)

Consider the following: since it's all but stated outright that the Epilogue takes place right after the Skip Button Ending, and you find the remains of the Memory Zone and parts of the office, Narry isn't dead yet, but he's dying. Barely holding on, mostly dead, like Westley from Princess Bride. The only reason the Parable hasn't collapsed in on itself and the only reason the Timekeeper can reset anything at all is because Narry is still just barely there.

But oh my gosh this is still so freaking cool, and it makes sense how Stanley can be both in the past and the future at the same time, since after the Skip Button he both is reset and not reset at the same time so he can still effect the Parable and in turn the Epilogue since he's in both times at once. Like how you can get the bucket in the Epilogue if you put it in the Escape Pod.

I imagine that Timekeeper us really just trying to keep the Parable going to keep Narry alive, keep him in his loop just before death so their entire world doesn't collapse around them. And the only way for any of this to change is if Stanley does something about it. No one else can affect the Parable in quite the way Stanley can, and so the only way to free them all from this loop would be for Stanley to take Narry with him to the Escape Pod, take him there and trigger the ending to free them all from the game.

Ohhhhh oh ho ho ho!!! This would be so cool!!!! Anon I love you for this idea!!! My brain is full of ideas now and I wanna scream/pos

So to summarize here

By making the Skip Button in the Memory Zone the Narrator inadvertently causes the Skip Button to be all his memories are and as the percieved years and decades and centuries pass the Narrator loses his grip on the Parable to the point where he's so weak and close to death that everything starts to crumble around them. As Stanley steps out into the desert the Timekeeper jumps in to reset the game as they realize what's happening to it as the Narrator dies. The Timekeeper only has enough control over the resets to put them in a continuous never-ending loop that resets just before the Narrator dies in a futile effort to keep the Parable collapsing, which would kill everyone inside. Eventually Stanley discovers that he's still able to change things about their future. After countless loops in the Parable Stanley finds out (probably from the Timekeeper themself) that the only way to free them all from the loop would be for Stanley to take the Narrator through the Escape Pod Ending. It takes a lot of convincing but eventually they manage it and as the door to the Escape Pod closes and their vision fades to black.... they wake up outside the Parable and in the real world, they're free. Everyone who was stuck there was released and the Parable itself, without the Narrator, Curator, and Timekeeper there to keep the game running it collapses and is left a shell of what it used to be. But what does that matter when everyone made it out safely.

And they all go on to figure out the world together. Stanley, Mariella, and 432 likely taking the lead as they were humans trapped inside the game and still remember some of how the outside world works.

And they all live happily ever after!

Yaaayyy happy ending :D

[typhoonvash]

❝ it’ll be all right because we’re together. ❞

⩥ @eventheodds [outlaw] || twilight princess manga prompts [OPEN]

❝ it’ll be all right because we’re together. ❞

Vash hates staying in one place for too long. Few things in this world can latch him down to a single location—even without a bounty, even in the most comfortable of places, if he doesn't run, then...

He and Meryl have been cemented in Octovern while things settle. Unfortunately, something—someone—very important keeps him tethered to the city as the Ouroboros of a society based on social merit and income crumbles around them. It's good to see Knives's hold on the cannibalistic plutocracy that ruled Noman's Land wither and die, but it has resulted in the chaos that change brings.

Humanity can withstand it. He knows this to be true.

His own mostly dark hair is a show of the incredible efforts he'd put into stopping his brother, despite all odds, and he couldn't have done it without Meryl's help. Without her believing in him.

There was another reason that he knew he had to come back alive, though.

Vash and Meryl bounce between Octovern and Home. Originally, they just stayed aboard Home, but... it's begun to become unsustainable for them. They had to return to the world below even if they'd both rather stay aboard the ship.

Sometimes they stay days, maybe a week, just so they can check in on Wolfwood. It's been almost a year since they'd recovered him, and he seems to have made very little progress. The undertaker still writhes every day until he bruises himself and falls asleep. Vash can hear the steel bedframe rattling from his and Meryl's guest room next door. Some nights, Wolfwood howls and yells. Not words, never words, but it's the raw sound of pure agony.

Sometimes he can't help but wonder if—

...

No. He'll get better. They will get Wolfwood back. They will.

Luida accompanies the duo on their next visit inside the room. She writes the same notes down on the same clipboard she always uses, then puts a hand on Vash's shoulder.

"He's only getting weaker, Vash. I know it's hard, but it may be best to consider letting him go."

He violently shakes his head at this and feels his throat tighten up at her words. Luida has been the only one aboard the ship with a positive attitude about his friend. Many feared Wolfwood. Many thought him a lost cause.

Many wished him a peaceful death.

It's not fair. He gave so much, and they'd been through hell together and Vash could only watch as Wolfwood changed. He witnessed the emptiness in his gray eyes when he looked at Vash, he heard him refer to Vash as an object, a power source, never 'Blondie' or 'Needle-noggin.' He'd forgotten, even as his brain drew him back to visiting Vash's containment again and again. Even Wolfwood didn't know why—but Vash did.

Luida leaves the room, and it's just the three of them. Wolfwood did a number to his face today and gave himself a gash on his cheek from his restraints. They tried a new medicine today to attempt to manage his cough, and for now it seems to be working.

"It’ll be all right because we’re together."

It seems as though Meryl heard what Luida had said as well. Vash holds her hand and it feels so small. Neither of them look at each other; they're both focusing on the raspy rise and fall and exhale of Wolfwood's breathing.

Maybe they're just torturing Wolfwood like this. Maybe he really won't wake up—and—and there's no guarantee that he'll even remember them if he does...

He's always held onto hope, despite the odds. A 1% chance is still a chance. It doesn't matter if it's been years or decades or a century... Vash always hopes. But this is truly testing him. He squeezes Meryl's hand a little tighter, and tries desperately to hide behind his head of messy inky black hair.

"Y-yeah. It's... it's gonna be alright," Vash gives his signature faux-chuckle, "He'll be okay. He has to be."

[tavina-writes]

Because Tumblr apparently believes "save this as a draft" when it comes to asks to be the equivalent of "put it in the void where it is never to be seen again" ;-; @woobifiedvillain I lost your ask about NHS & the body part headcanons (can be found here.) which I also answered a version of last night here.

BUT I am always thinking about NHS, so obviously I have more of these!

NHS & the Canons part 2 below:

Headcanon: NHS's dad, the previous Sect Leader Nie was sworn brothers with WRH at one point. This appeals to my sense of parallelism because this means that sworn brothers have been the leading cause of death for Nie sect leaders for two generations running! This is just background for why the Nie brothers have so many neuroses and I turn it over and over in my mind like they're rotisserie chickens. I just think this would make their backstory so much more crunchy.

Heartcanon: I like to think that NHS plays an instrument from the huqin instrument family (erhu, zhutiqin, banhu, etc) because it's such an integral part of opera music, but I wobble back and forth on which one since the zhutiqin is the most commonly used for various operas, the erhu is my favorite, and the banhu is actually from Hebei BUT ANYWAY.

Gutcanon: I have mixed feelings about reconciliation and NHS post canon, not because 'he doesn't deserve it!' or 'no one would give it to him! he's done too many crimes!' mostly because have we seen the world these characters are occupying lol. ANYONE can have a reconciliation if they want one. What I'm not entirely sure is that NHS really...wants? friends? anymore? at the end of this? I flip flop about this and it occupies MOST of my thoughts, but I am not entirely convinced of the desire for reconciliation or friendship from him at the point we leave him at canon.

Junkcanon: NHS got introduced to porn during his artists and painters phase likely shortly before he got shipped off to the Cloud Recesses, because some of the more commercial art could be saucy.

In actually more sexual headcanons: no one can convince me NHS isn't a pillow princess. You want him to put EFFORT into a physical activity??? oh! oh! JAIL! Enjoyment only! Effort NEVER!

Spleencanon: I think most of my spiteful takes about NHS are from fandom related things and not like, canon related things, but: for NHS' own personal mental and physical health post canon he should quite the jianghu and take his 2-5 kids with him on a road trip while spending lots of money. For his midlife crisis moment post canon ofc.

;-; I'm still really sorry I lost your ask to the void. It's been forever since I tried saving an ask as a draft on tumblr and I completely forgot that this would happen to it.

[sundered-souls]

For the Dawntrail asks: 17, though I have a feeling you'll get this one more than once, so 9 and 21 as well if you want!

Obvious warning for DT spoilers. Please do not read if you haven't finished the story.

17. The theme of family and legacy is repeated throughout Dawntrail—did this theme resonate with your character? Were there specific moments relating to family that impacted them?

Let's start with family.

Family is complicated. She was kind of the black canary in her own. Not because they didn't love her, but because they didn't understand (nor accepted) her curiosity for the outside world. Leaving her people means never coming back, something she had somewhat accepted but still hurt her for a long time after she left the village. She'd made her choice, though, and had little interest in changing the traditions of her people—selfish desire that they'd make an exception for her put aside.

But at least, you know, they tried to understand her. Tried to give her reasons to stay, to accommodate her somewhat. So it was striking for her that Zoraal Ja never seemed to have had that much effort put into trying to get him, despite how much efforts Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat had put into understanding strangers. Sometimes even murderous strangers.

I don't think she's been this uncomfortable with killing someone in a very long time (even though he clearly needed to be stopped). It's a death that'll stay with her because while your duty to your family is important, it's not worth erasing every bit of self just to fit a mold you barely understand. That's why she left and why he died.

Between him and Bakool Ja Ja, I think it settled in her mind once and for all that she made the right choice to leave her own family behind to carve her own path.

As for legacy...

What happened to Sphene after her death, the dehumanization of a beloved princess into a protector that lives for nothing but what she was created for—not unlike a primal, in truth—is something she found chilling.

The weight of expectation is hard to carry in life, and she saw much of her own doubts in Bakool Ja Ja and Zoraal Ja. More so than in Wuk Lamat and Koana, who for the most part were pretty clear about what they wanted to do with what they inherited, if not how to get there.

If anything, the whole adventure made her even more grateful for the people in her life that keep her grounded, because it was a quite sharp reminder of what happens when you lose sight of yourself for the sake of others.

9. What was going through their mind when the dome dropped?

Mostly "Oh, fuck!" or some other variation.

Then she took one good look at Erenville to get confirmation that yeah, it had appeared right where they were going, and from there she mostly settled for being here for him and getting to the bottom of the issue quickly.

21. If they had to summarize their journey in Tural, what would they say?

The Rite of Succession was surprisingly fun and enjoyable. She truly expected it to be something that'd cause her no end of problems when instead she mostly got to enjoy the journey, the land and the people she met.

Sphene and Zoraal Ja's business pissed her off, and given the design of both Sphene's crown and Sphene's dress, she hopes that whatever sundered Ascian is likely behind some of this mess took one good look at her face and crawled back to the hole they came from.

Unlikely, but a Warrior of Light can dream.

Mostly she enjoyed it though. The dome soured her mood a bit, but she's happy for the people she got to meet (and to have Erenville sticking around).

Thanks for the ask!, @pxelbunny!

[bluejay-writes]

Mystictober 2023: Day 4 - About the Barn Cat...

You can read this fic on Ao3 if that’s more your speed!

Rating: Teen.

Prompt: Rebel / Royal

Pairing: Jumin/MC

Wordcount: 2546

Summary: Crown Prince Jumin Han needs a wife, but mostly he needs a partner to lessen his work load. Almost all these ladies at this afternoon tea want the job. One of them just wants to get her embroidery done.

Author's Notes: This fic was written for Mystictober 2023, Day 4. I'll be writing for the whole month, so if you have any requests, hit up that ask box. (The full prompt list is at the bottom of this post!)

Jaehee is referred to here as Mrs. Kang - the Mrs. designation is because she is the head of the serving staff for the entire palace, as Housekeeper, she is Mrs., regardless of her marital status. If I write more in this AU, however... :D got plans for Miss Jaehee.

Please enjoy some classic Jumin being bad at feelings.

(Did I just post this on the old blog? I sure did. You saw nothing.)

“Stop fidgeting.”

The sharp voice made Emme’s hands still where they had been picking at the over-embellished dress she was wearing. She knew better than to fidget, had been trained better, to stand still and simper and be otherwise indistinguishable from a noblewoman. But she hated it. She’d rather be out in the fields with her sheep. The very sheep that her brother was now probably tending to inappropriately.

But it had been decided. The rebellion needed an inside voice with the monarchy, and with the prince’s hand in marriage up for whomever could grab his attention, they’d put all their effort into training Emme for just that purpose. Did she want to be a princess? No one ever asked her, not even herself. The rebellion was her family. Ever since her father had been killed for supposedly ogling a noblewoman, and her mother had followed him into death via her own grief, the rebels had taken care of Emme and her brother, so at the very least she could give this her best attempt.

It was possible that the prince was gay. As far as everyone said, he’d never even looked at a woman twice. He might not even be interested in women, at which point this whole farce would have been useless, but she still had to try.

“If you’re done woolgathering, the carriage has arrived.” The blonde woman smirked at her, but mostly at her own joke since Emme was a shepherdess before she became a faux noble.

Emme didn’t voice a response, knowing that was what was expected of her. She simply got into the carriage and wondered how she could get out of this uncomfortable situation without disappointing literally everyone.

“Your highness, it is time for Afternoon Tea.”

His Highness, Crown Prince Jumin, looked up from the paperwork covering his desk and sighed.

“Mrs. Kang, you know I don’t have time for this.”

“I know, your highness.”

Jumin didn’t argue, he simply stood, smoothed the wrinkles from sitting out of his attire, and waved for the Housekeeper to proceed.  He knew that this afternoon tea was planned out by his father to find him a wife.  It wasn’t that he was against finding a wife, but most of the details of running the kingdom were already his responsibility while his father spent most of his time attending social functions or consorting with his harem.

“As you’re aware, Highness, you will be expected to pick at least one of these women to court.  I recommend spending some time talking with each of them to get a feeling for their work ethic.”

Jumin chuckled. Trust Mrs. Kang to understand exactly the sort of thing he was thinking.  She truly was the perfect Housekeeper, and he never regretted having her take over the butler’s duties when he retired. The woman was impeccable at her job, which he appreciated more than anything.

He wouldn’t mind having a Queen, or even just a Princess Consort if they were willing and capable of sharing in his workload.  But he knew the noblewomen his father would have invited didn’t know the meaning of the word. Most of them had been raised to be nothing but arm candy, because that’s the sort of woman the King preferred. Maybe he should just give in to the rumors and tell everyone he was only interested in men.  It wasn’t true.  Not that he was any more interested in men than he was in women, but it would at least stop this marriage farce.

Walking into the hall, he could immediately tell that this was going to be a most uncomfortable few hours of social effort.

Emme twitched.  When it was clear that the prince was making his way table-by-table, everyone had flocked to sit as close to the front as possible, leaving her alone at her table to drink her tea.  She had no reason to try to get closer.  Either the prince would take the time to reach every table, or he wouldn’t, and no matter where she sat, it wouldn’t make a difference.

This tea was already proving to be a trial, even without company to chat with. She was likely to leave the event hungry, which went against her better judgment, given how used to going hungry she was. She couldn’t afford to be picky, but a noblewoman in her position couldn’t afford not to be picky. She wasn’t interested in the sweet pastries, instead preferring savory accompaniments, and everything they’d provided was sweet. She considered this an oversight on the part of the staff, not that she would ever speak her mind about it. She was taught better.

Knowing that if word of her behavior got back to her handler in the rebellion she would get no end of grief, Emme still slipped her embroidery out of her bag to work on, once she had finished a second cup of tea.  She’d been working stitching a scene of her own design, one she’d sketched out of a barn cat asleep on a windowsill.  She thought it would be a lovely handkerchief, or perhaps a scarf, once it was completed.  With a small smile pinned on her face, mostly from nostalgia about the barn cat, but also her training to ‘always be pleasant’, Emme got to work on her embroidery, paying little attention to the rest of the room.

As predicted, Prince Jumin was bored.  He had thought he might have to answer the same question repeatedly, but instead these women were only interested in talking up their own supposed achievements and desirability as a potential princess candidate.

Once, during a shift from one table full of insufferable women to the next, Jumin noticed one of the women, at the farthest table, sitting quietly by herself working on her embroidery.  She seemed quietly pleased, and it immediately drew his attention.  Of course, his attention was immediately followed by the next table of women being even more oppressive, and even underhandedly catty about the woman who was sitting alone, as though they thought that was what he wanted to hear.

His mind was filled with thoughts about this woman, using time that would otherwise have been wasted on useless social interactions to complete work. He moved almost as a marionette through the last few tables of women, none of whom stood a chance of catching his attention and taking it away from the woman at the last table.

Finally, Finally, he went to sit with her, to meet her, and she continued to surprise him. As he sat down, she held up a hand as though to forestall his greeting as she finished one last stitch, and tucked her embroidery safely back in her bag.

“I’m sorry for the delay.” Emme said, smiling. “I wanted to get that stitch finished.”

“It was no issue. I am a fan of embroidery, myself.” He said, sharing the first piece of information about himself all afternoon. “May I see what you were working on?”

“Truly?” Jumin felt blinded by her smile, lighting up her face like the bright rays of dawn.  She took out her embroidery frame, showing off the sleeping cat, as far as she’d gotten him done so far. “Did you design this yourself?” He asked, eying the hand-drawn lining underlying the stitches.

“I did. It’s our barn cat—“ She bit her lip. Noble Ladies don’t consort with barn cats.

Jumin didn’t seem to care that she shouldn’t have been anywhere near a barn, or consorted with barn cats. “Would you ever be willing to design one for me?”

Emme tipped her head to the side in curiosity, reminding Jumin of his Elizabeth the 3rd. “Of what, if I may ask?”

“Of my darling cat, of course.” he smiled. “My Elizabeth the 3rd would make an excellent subject for your embroidery, I am certain.”

“Oh.” Emme said, drawn in by the warmth of his smile. She had expected the prince to be cold, and boring, and nothing at all like he was. “Well, yes, I think that would be a fun challenge.”

“If you’d like, then, I shall invite you back for a private luncheon where you can meet Miss Elizabeth.”

“That sounds marvelous, I—“

Emme was cut off by one of the guards walking hurriedly over to Jumin and whispering in his ear. He paled, and turned to her in apology.

“It seems I must cut our tea short. I will see you again, miss.” He nodded to her, and followed his guard out. Emme just stared after him, and tried to stifle a laugh. He’d never even asked her name, how was he supposed to invite her to lunch?

Jumin was pacing.  The alarm from the guards had been nothing of note. His father had been demanding his presence, in fact to ascertain which women he wanted to court.  If only he’d known that he’d pulled Jumin away from a conversation with the only person, gender irrelevant, who had ever caught his attention.  It wasn’t romantic, what he felt for her, but… it was certainly a pull.  A desire to befriend her and keep her forever, like he felt with his Elizabeth.  Maybe that was enough for a wife, after all.  She certainly seemed diligent, working on her stitching rather than gossiping with the other noblewomen.

If only he’d had the presence of mind to ask the girl her name.  This slip in etiquette was plaguing him, as all he could tell his aides of her was her long dark hair, golden eyes, and penchant for embroidery.  Also, that she apparently had a barn cat.

A knock at his door startled him out of his thoughts, and at his call, Mrs. Kang entered the room.

“Excuse me, your Highness, I have located your mystery noblewoman.”

“You have?” He gestured for her to approach, and she did, moving silently as usual, his favorite thing about her which was also the most unnerving.

“Yes, though there is a bit of an issue. It appears that while she appears noble, and on the surface her credentials are from a noble family, she herself was born a commoner, and has been raised primarily by the rebellion.”

“Ah, so you think she’s a spy, or an assassin?”

“No, unlikely. It seems they’ve groomed her to be a noblewoman to try and get a voice in amongst the nobles.  They’re dissatisfied with her because she refuses to involve herself in unnecessary gossip, and thus doesn’t bring back information the way they hoped.  And after being called away from her at Tea, they are assuming she made a poor impression on you. It is unlikely you will need to deal with her at future events.”

“She would have been the only bright point in those events.” Jumin said, with more than a hint of melancholy. He considered discarding his fancy then and there, but found that it pained him to even consider it.

“Mrs. Kang, what is her name?”

“Emme, your Highness.”

“Emme. What a lovely name.” Jumin smiled, and added the name to the letter in front of him. “Mrs. Kang, please see this letter delivered to Miss Emme. We shall be having lunch on the morrow.”

Emme was, once again, fidgeting. Her dress today was much simpler - She’d been summoned to the palace to have lunch with the prince and discuss embroidery.  The letter had been delivered to her actual home, and not to the address she was beholden to as a supposed noble. This meant that the palace knew exactly who she was, and were in no way fooled by her assumed identity.

Her handler warned her that going to the palace again would be a trap, that they meant to arrest her for treason, and that if she were to do this, they would wash their hands of her. There would be no help coming.  Emme wanted to believe that his highness was truly interested in her embroidery, truly wanted to speak with her, and perhaps request her work as they had discussed. She wanted to believe in him, because he seemed to truly see her, not just what he wanted to see.

And so, here she stood in front of the palace gates in her simple blue dress, its hem dust-stained from the walk across the city, her embroidery bag slung over her shoulder.  At least it hadn’t been raining.

“Who goes there?” The guard called, and she paused, taking a deep breath before responding.

“Emme, sir. Here at the invitation of His Highness Prince Jumin.”  She held out the invitation, which the guard took from her, and then smiled.

“Ah, the embroidress.  Welcome, miss!” The guard winked at her, and handed the invitation back. “Mrs. Kang should be out to escort you soon, you’re a bit early.”

“Yes, I am.” Emme said with a nod. “Better early and waiting than late and keeping His Highness waiting.”

The guard nodded, and in mere moments a severe-looking woman in glasses walked out, took one look at her, and smiled slightly.

“Miss Emme, if you’ll follow me?”

The way to Jumin’s private lounge was twisting, and Emme knew that she would not be able to leave the palace without assistance.  The way the guard and the housekeeper had been treating her didn’t imply that she was to be arrested, and so her hopes of having a peaceful lunch with discussion of shared interests rose steadily.

Jumin was, of course, ready for Emme when she arrived.  He’d been standing by the window petting Miss Elizabeth the 3rd, and turned with a smile when Mrs. Kang showed her into the room before shutting the door to give them privacy.  It was false privacy, as Jumin’s valet stood against one wall, ready to serve any need they may have during the luncheon, all but unnoticed.

“Miss Emme.” He said, greeting her with a smile and a kiss on the hand. “How lovely to see you again. You look more comfortable today.”

Emme chuckled. “You weren’t upset to discover I was but a simple commoner in noble’s clothes? I am sorry for deceiving you, Your Highness.”

“Not at all, actually. You’re a breath of fresh air, and as hypocritical as it may sound, I don’t care one whit about nobility.”

Emme chuckled, and settled into the chair he motioned her to. “I brought some of my other embroidery for you to look over, since you mentioned it was also a hobby you enjoyed.”

The moment she sat down, Elizabeth the 3rd perked up from her window seat. She stretched leisurely, then trotted over to Emme, and after a casual appraisal, jumped up into her lap and curled up to go back to sleep.

Emme was startled, and looked to Jumin and then back down at Elizabeth multiple times, with hearts in her eyes.

“Is this Miss Elizabeth the 3rd? She’s so lovely!”

Jumin simply stared. Miss Elizabeth did not tolerate anyone but himself, often going so far as to scratch Mrs. Kang, and hiss at his Valet, V, if he got too close. But here she was, declaring her preference for the lap of this girl she’d just met over his own.

“Emme.” Jumin said, his voice full of an emotion he couldn’t place. “Marry me.”

[papaver-decervicatus]

Teaser :)

gif originally from @i-troll-you-with-love (I think!)

Hello everyone, like I briefly mentioned, life has gotten really awful for a few days. One totally shit 21st birthday later, there is still a particular scene in this chapter that is driving me absolutely insane and I have no clue when it will be done. The chapter after this is completely written, and the one after the next after that. Mouse's POV confounds me, but I love her too much to stop!

Again, sorry for the lateness and brevity but sometimes you need to sit in bed and cry about whats happened and put your silly little tumblr blog on hold for a minute. In apology, and because I enjoy to write when upset, here is a teaser from the next chapter (Mus Urbanus,) that is a flashback within the chapter (which is why it’s set off in parenthetical.) I think @bucca2 mentioned interest in their initial interactions so here is the first time Mouse/König flirt! (Sort of. Read and I’m sure you’ll understand!)

Thank you all for the support, it has and will continue to mean the world to me. P.S- please always be there for your friends and I hope you like Hannibal...

❣️Cura ut Veleas ~ Caedis 🥀

(She remembers the seemingly endless weeks of his arrival to her perch. The early morning light hits the streets the same way it had hit the forest ground that day. Like a fairytale prince, beseeching a princess on hand and knee, he would always somehow appear in her sights, nearly as though it was just meant to be!

His form stands out tall and proud from its surroundings and she recounts every single reason he should not be here. By the third time their eyes caught she’d decided he was doing it on purpose, but she never let him get away with it without some acknowledgement on her side. She can only imagine that if she’s getting hunted for sport, her calling out his position will, at least temporarily, halt his advance.

But by this rate, she’ll be in his mouth by the end of the year.

His eyes are cold and bloodshot red. Painted on tears lick their way down the hood she’s never seen him without, possibly a feeble attempt at impersonality? Maybe if he looks enough like a monster people will just trust their first assumption and leave him alone. But she’s never been one to judge a book by its cover…

“I see you, König.” She warns out to him. He stills among the foliage, bathed in sweet-honey-like warmth from the rising sun. He does not shy away from his imminent death on the business end of her rifle, of course not! Instead, he raises his chest proudly, seemingly aware that the loneliness in her yields to whatever greater magnetism the loneliness in him commands. He’s an enigma, it bothers her that of all the people to put the effort into finding her, it has to be him. Mostly she curses herself for promising him a next time all those encounters ago, if she’d known what sort of a game it would inspire in the predator stalking her like prey despite her flipping sniper rifle, she never would have said a thing.

He may be in her scope, but he’s got her under a finer microscope to seek her out so faithfully. She wishes she got this sort of dizzying devotion from someone, anyone else.

It is the third day this week he has found her.

What she expects to happen is what has happened for weeks now, 1) he hears her transmission, 2) he smiles at her as a predator smiles at pray, his eyes find hers and her hackles rise in utter terror, and 3) he hums to himself and turns away, self-satisfied enough to have won hide-and-seek for the time being.

That does not happen.

Instead, König sits down, right where he is, and pulls out that monster of a knife he keeps strapped to himself. He throws it up and catches it without looking at it, instead his eyes are laser-focused on Mouse. This is, of course, despite the fact he should have no earthly idea where she is. He plays with his knife idly for what must be an hour, but she does not- no, can not- look away from him.

She remembers her trigger finger twitching with sinful power, she remembers choking back the insistence at killing another lonely person, devoid of their autonomy on a basic level when they signed up for a mercenary-issued ticket to hell.

She remembers hopelessness. She remembers refusal. She remembers the smile reaching his eyes when she played along with his joke.

“Why don’t rats like cats?” Her radio labors out.

She half forgot what his voice sounded like, surprisingly excitable and shrill for a man of his stature. Her brain stutters around the implication of the only words she’s heard him say to her since the fateful ravine that gained her a new personal and 6’10” shadow.

She blinks a few times in surprise, genuinely pondering if her long hours hiking through the woods have made her susceptible to hallucination and general hysteria. She is not thinking when she timidly responds-

“Why?”

“Because they are weapons of maus-destruction.” Konig replies like it’s not the stupidest thing she’s ever heard in her goddamn life.

Perhaps it's pity at the memory of his discomfort around his comrades. Of the thought of the way he tries to make his body so small when around others (truly an impossible task he routinely fails.) Maybe it’s irrational fear, twofold and buried in her instinct to shoot despite the clear disadvantage on his behalf and her insistence that she does not do her damn job, or fear of the inhuman man in front of her stalking her through the woods. Or it could be discomfort, no one ever prepared her for dealing with whatever the fuck this is in basic training or field school.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter what it is.

In the sparkling, decadent light of a sunrise, her heart hammers in her throat at the first joke he’d told her, in some strange and desperate attempt to fill the meters of silence between them.

She laughs.

And he hears it.

And with his wide stance, his ghastly executioner’s hood in the place of a crown, and his knife back in its holster- his beautiful eyes seem to smile. Suddenly, his eyes look lived in, like someone has just put up new curtains in an abandoned house. His whole affect changes hinging on what was an irresponsible outburst on her behalf at best.

And for the first time, she does not fear a monster hunting her through the woods, silent and purposeful in his pursuit of prey.

Instead, she wants to understand a man, whose eyes have lit up like a princess has just laughed when he kissed her hand.)

[eli-elien]

henlo :DDD i am here for the Ask Game!!

2, 5, 11, 14, 30

this makes me sound like im ordering from a drive through XD

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

I think a left 3rd view of the face is the easiest second to that is facing forward

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

60% or so is for myself the rest if I think its good I'll post online and you already seen what I usually post on servers being stupid lil doodles lol

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

YEEEESSS III LOOOOVE MUSIC

Honestly this has turned into a playlist of music I just love that happens to relate even to one lyric about my boy lol

but specifically these:

and you definitely know why I've been listening to this one ;)

14. Any favorite motifs

There's alot and since this is my post and my answers and you're my friend

I WONT SPARE YOU THE ESSAY YOU'VE UNLEASHED

So I love love wolves/dogs and rabbits/deer as both are very interesting the differences between dogs and wolves is a fact of freedom, that sure a wolf miiight listen to you (but mostly bc of food or other sources you might give them I mean they're wild) while a dog is absolutely domesticated but...they still bite and when pushed they WILL fight back even if they're loyal

Rabbits and deer esp when combined for a Jackalope are two things: my love of contrasts and double meanings and metaphors for transness!! I see antlers personally, esp since its different between sexes in deer when it comes them and growing/shedding them as a trans thing idk how to explain it lol

now with the contrasts and double meanings with rabbits!! its such a cute lil fluffy thing but its interesting when the rabbit bites down, when you see that the black and white world-view of carnivores and vegetarians are actually blurred and that during winter they'll eat meat when its available most animals and esp rabbits are very opportunistic

and ofc there's the predator and prey aspects of both between dogs/deer and wolves/rabbits!!!

also side note but I also been loving lizards/shrikes and returning to the classic motif for reverie: foxes/ravens (both clever beings that get a bad rap in fairy tales)

also I looooove fairy tales and myths, William several folk tales that I got inspired by, I wonder what sorta scenes and designs and skills based of these: Red Riding Hood (#1 FAIRY TALE) Anything with the big bad wolf, sleeping beuty, beuty and the beast, the white knight/prince charming motif, witches motif, and hansel and grentel but what if one of the kids take the other instead of a parent? Can you really call that your sibling?

like for instance Will has his red cloak that acts as a red "heroic and prince charming/white knight" cape that also has a red hood, not too mention his motivations are mainly pure righteousness and his desinated roles by the story are either prince charming/white knight or love interest (mainly both if he was saving a princess from the princess pov but instead he's saving and protecting the "evil" dragon)

alsoooo MORE CONTRASTS like life/death and growth/rot and sun/moon and ice/fire (again these can be applied to will who has a rot curse but inherant magic for healing and being related to plants and also ice and fire magic

also persephone/hades dynamic esp where you think on the surface its the cute bubbly life and flowers girlie (doesn't even have to be a girl again: will) with their gloomy dark death and rot guy (yes this is talking about the dragon guy buuut he's honestly more of a dark golden retreiver that would eat and kill anyone who messes with will who also has 1 braincell that uses 60% of it to think abt will)

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

honestly every one of my oc stuff cuz man I put alot of effort into this shit and since this is my post I'll post the ones that I think aren't getting enough attention

I don't think this is underated but putting this here bc I did it on a tablet with a shitty diy stylus that didn't even give me good control and I think I deserve something for how well this came out under those circumstances

ALSOOO!!! IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN WILL THEN PLS SEND ME ASKS I NEED TO TALK MORE ABOUT HIIIIM

[shibuyashotos]

Before I go about answering these questions, I want to make it interesting and tag a few mutuals as well since I'd love to see how they'd answer these questions and who they'd tag as well (this is also completely optional for doing either; i'm not pressuring anyone to do it):

@viosvisions @iamverynormalaboutocs @rodriiviro @pencilforge @bahnloopi come along and reblog if you'd like, tag some mutuals and answer some stuff if you want!

My Answers are beneath the break.

for one Amara Alistratova:

No siblings.

In the literal five years that Amara knew her mother, Aikon, they had a particularly close relationship. In the present day at 25 years old, Amara wishes her mother was still around.

When it comes to Fathers, there are complete opposites. Leek, her biological father, she used to have a rather endearingly close relationship with him when she was five. At 25, her relationship with him is rather incredibly strained. Mikhail, her adoptive father/caretaker, they only knew each other for six months, but you could've sworn they were truly father and daughter with how close of a bond they had.

Two events have fundamentally changed Amara as a person; The death of her best friend/partner Lingzhi (this resulted in amnesia, among other things, for her), and the death of her adopted father/caretaker, Mikhail Alistratov. A once cheerful, if very driven woman (even if she had amnesia at the time) is now hiding her true feelings underneath the veneer of a stone-faced stoic so that she'll never feel hurt again. Nobody knows about these events, except for the man responsible for the latter scenario.

Not a lot can really be found in Amara's pockets. Some lint, some loose change and crumpled up bills, no real identification outside of like a kind of battered old photo of a family of three (Father, Mother and Daughter) (she heavily resembles the daughter in the photo, despite not being said girl; key difference being the color of the eyes).

Family, summertime, pets.

Isolation, Destruction, personal guilt.

She has not fired a gun whatsoever.

Much different. She was a princess once, now she's not.

Clothed or unclothed, she's fine no matter what. If she's by herself at home, she'll just be topless and wear sweatpants. If she's going out or there's company, she'll put on some better clothes. The only real consistency is that she doesn't wear a bra at all.

The most afraid Amara has ever been was when her caretaker died. It was also the angriest she'd ever been up until that point. Mostly at herself.

The most calm Amara's ever been in a situation was when she learned to control her rage as a Legendary Super Saiyan, thus unlocking a far stronger transformation.

Incredibly bothered by blood. She freezes up at the sight of blood.

Faces. She remembers faces significantly better than names, but she makes an effort to remember names.

Not so much money she's preoccupied with, but she does have a particularly emotional preoccupation with keeping her jacket intact. It's one of the few things she has left from Mikhail and she'll be incredibly distraught if it so much as rips.

Between Success and Happiness, Amara honestly idealizes happiness. Success can be achieved with anything, but to her it matters as to whether or not you're happy achieving that success.

When she was little, one of her favorite toys was a stuffed doll that was given to her on the day she was born. It kind of resembled a bear, but was a little more alien.

Between Wisdom and Ambition, she appreciates wisdom more from people. A lot of the peers she had growing up were much older, more experienced folk, so she learned a lot from them. She doesn't appreciate Ambition as much due to her Father's own ambitious nature as a warrior.

Amara's Biggest relationship flaw really is just her inability to truly open up to people and let down her guard. She struggles with that a lot because she doesn't know how to open up properly.

It really depends on the person that she's comparing herself to, but she tends to compare based on personality traits more than physical traits. If anyone's a critic of one Amara Alistratova, it's Amara herself, and she's her own biggest critic.

Since tragedy has befallen Amara a few times, she carries a lot of guilt for those tragedies as she was directly involved but unable to do anything to prevent them. She will blame herself first if someone else doesn't earn her ire.

Likes people who are genuine about their feelings and kindness.

Dislikes liars, manipulative people, killers.

She has a hard time trusting people, but she trusts quickly when she gets to know them well enough

Depends on the person, but she tends to immediately distrust anyone claiming to be a mercenary or what have you. Can change possibly.

Around Children, Amara tends to be friendly and very gentle around them. Her expressions soften, she smiles a little more. She'll protect kids, not endanger them.

It really depends on the type of person in the conflict. Normal people tend to back away when the 6'11" stoic woman sharpens her glare and starts speaking with a deeper voice while looming over them. Most people will also get the hint if she backs them against a wall and performs the kabedon. When it comes to actual fighters though, she just drops the tough girl act and puts up her dukes.

It really depends on the scenario, but she tends to immediately jump to physical violence if someone starts to rant and monologue. It will almost always result in someone meeting the ground face first.

As a child, Amara dreamed of a lot of things. Her biggest dream though was to visit more worlds. In some ways she's achieved this dream.

Blood, anything to do with corpses, bodily waste, etc. etc. She has a strong stomach, but she absolutely cannot bear the sight of say someone regenerating limbs.

A comfortable scenario for Amara is being around animals. She likes animals a lot. Bunnies, Dogs, Bears, any animal really. She pets every single one.

An uncomfortable scenario for Amara is probably being at a blood bank. Or being around any sort of blood. She doesn't like blood.

In the face of criticism, she's willing to listen to what others have to say.

Amara will probably try an idea once and then try it again in a few other variations to see if she can make it work. If all else fails, she'll move onto another completely new method. Or y'know just cut the knot and move on that way.

Around people she likes, she tends to ease up on her stoicism and present a truly kinder, gentler side she keeps wrapped up.

Around people she dislikes, she doesn't really mince words even with a stone cold expression. She doesn't make much of an effort to hide her disdain for a lot of people, really.

In this day and age, Amara doesn't really care so much about status. She'll defend her own honor or the honor of those close to her, but she doesn't care if it affects her status.

More likely to remove the problem/threat than remove herself from the problem/threat. If she's being threatened, they'd better make good on threatening a 6'11" mountain of muscle or be prepared to face consequences.

Never been bitten. Animals kind of just either end up loving her or completely intimidated by her.

She treats people in service jobs rather well. She's rather polite and softspoken to everyone

When she was younger, she likely was the type to believe she deserved everything she wanted (she was a princess and her father absolutely spoiled her); Today she feels that she should work for what she wants no matter what it is.

As elaborated upon in some previous answers: Mikhail Alistratov would be that unrelated parental figure. He's the father that stepped up if you will.

No dependent figures, she kinda just lives on her own with two animals.

Saying "I Love You" would require Amara to actually open up her feelings to someone first. She's absolutely horrible at that. Saying it without meaning, however, she probably could do that very easily and without the utmost commitment.

She's actually rather unsure of what would happen to her after her death. She doesn't necessarily fear what could happen though.

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

What does your character like in other people?

What does your character dislike in other people?

How quick is your character to trust someone else?

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

How does your character behave around children?

How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

How does your character behave around people they like?

How does your character behave around people they dislike?

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

How does your character treat people in service jobs?

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?