#I'VE WANTED TO DO THIS SINCE I FINISHED REBELLION

[simpforsolas]

thoughts on how veilguard could've improved rook's and solas's character arcs

So I've been thinking about Veilguard nonstop since I finished it last night. I want to preface this with the fact that I liked many things about it a lot. While I do have my criticisms, it was probably the most fun I had actually playing a Dragon Age game. They made a lot of improvements in a lot of ways. But while I enjoyed (for the most part) what was there in the game, the entire time I just had the feeling that it was missing something (or maybe more accurately, a lot of things). This post won't go into all of those things, but I want to really delve into the biggest missed opportunity in the game: Rook's character arc and how it could have impacted Solas.

I found that Rook’s character arc was somewhat overtaken by the companions. But there was great potential for a phenomenal arc for them: what kind of hero will you be? From the beginning, Rook was set up to be a mirror to Solas. They remind Solas of who he was when he first started his rebellion: passionate, idealistic, wanting to make the world a better place. Basically, the quintessential hero. But Solas didn't stay that way. In pursuit of his noble goals, he made so many sacrifices and caused so much destruction that he accidentally became the villain. So if Rook is Solas's mirror, the logical conclusion is that Rook should've had the opportunity to reflect BOTH sides of Solas with two different paths: the "pure" hero path, or the "dark" villain path. Allowing two different paths for a protagonist in a game like this is tough, so I understand why it doesn't usually happen, but in this case, I think it would work because "pure" or "dark" path, Rook's ultimate goal would remain the same: stop the gods. The only thing that would change would be the way they go about pursuing that goal.

How would this work in practice?

For the pure path, Rook would err on the side of protecting people. Examples of this could include: giving characters like the mayor and Illario a second chance instead of killing them, making the choice in an either/or scenario to save lives instead of going after the gods, refusing to make deals with demons for more power to help them in their fight. Pure Rook is basically what we got in the game so I don't need to go further on this, but Solas watching a pure Rook would be moved by what he sees. In Rook, he would see a reflection of what he could've been if he hadn't been corrupted and trapped by his own overwhelming guilt.

For the dark path, Rook would be willing to get their hands dirty and make questionable choices if it helped their ultimate cause of defeating the gods. Examples of this could include the opposite of above: killing Illario and the mayor, choosing to sacrifice people (such as the Dalish hostages) in order to not lose an opportunity to go after the gods, and making deals with the demons in Hossberg in exchange for power to help the fight. The motivation behind each of these decisions wouldn't be selfishness, it would be pragmatism. Making the choice that would give us the best chance against the gods, no matter the cost. Solas watching this Rook would feel validated in the choices he made. Rook reflects Solas's own downward spiral of a journey, in seeing yourself become the villain as you try to be the hero. He would see that when tasked with the near impossible task of stopping tyranny, Rook was willing to get their hands dirty, just like he was.

Giving Rook the agency to choose what kind of hero they want to be would tie in with themes the game already started, but didn't exactly deliver on. Solas asks the question "what will they call you, when this over?" and by the end of the game it's like, "well they'll probably call me that one nice dude who saved the world through friendship." But if they had the chance to become sort of Dread Wolfy themself, then that line would carry a lot more weight.

Now that we've established what a two-path Rook could've looked like, I want to explore a little more how that could've impacted Solas. I, personally, wasn't the biggest fan of Solas changing his mind only being made possible by Mythal releasing him from her service. For a few reasons, but what I'm going to focus on here is that it made his redemption into this one-event thing, instead of an overarching journey that could've taken place over the course of the game. What I think should've happened is that depending on Rook's path, Solas is either a) shown a new path that he could've taken or b) validated in the path that he took. Additionally, through conversations with Solas, you could challenge his worldview, or you could reinforce it. If you did a pure path Rook, Solas would basically be prepped to ultimately be receptive to the inquisitor/Mythal's attempts to appeal to him and get him to change his mind, while dark path Rook would reinforce Solas’s worldview so strongly that no one would be able to get through to him, and his mind couldn’t be changed. This way, his outcome would feel more like a culmination of choices instead of a one moment thing, you'd have more of a chance to see the gradual shift of his attitude, and Rook would have a more interesting character arc.

[galaxiasgreen]

🎼🌙Moonlight

Fluffy Ominis x MC!Reader drabble [G-rated, 800 words]

"Fitting, isn't it?" he murmurs, so quiet his voice blends with the song's deeper notes. "The verse speaks of how we wear masks to pretend all is well, but only in moonlight do our true feelings arise." "Shall we promise, then, to leave the masks behind tonight?" "I’ll promise that," he says, offering a hand, “if you'll honour me with a dance.”

In search of distraction from Ranrok's rebellion, you dance with Ominis in the Undercroft.

[read on AO3]

A/N: I originally wrote this for @yoshitsuno's #Hogtober challenge last year, but I've since made some edits. Very short and sweet, no use of Y/N (just you/yours) and MC is gender neutral. Enjoy. <3

The music lilts up the lift shaft, reaching your ears long before it clunks to a juddering stop. When the grille slides up, you tiptoe into the Undercroft. It’s a classical tune you don’t recognise, a poignant operatic with a melody that evokes a sense of sadness and beauty – and you know immediately which Slytherin will be enjoying it.

Eyes shut, Ominis is reclined against the furthest pillar. He’s dressed down today, in an unbuttoned waistcoat and loosely knotted tie. You could almost believe he was asleep if not for his wand, gently mimicking a conductor’s baton against his thigh, tapping perfectly in time with each beat.

“It’s a lovely song.”

He doesn’t stop. “From Gabriel Fauré's Clair de lune. I particularly like its message, comparing the human experience to rays of the moon.”

He gets to his feet as you drift closer. The voice swells dramatically; he flicks his wand, and the gramophone quietens.

“No, no, don’t turn it down on my account,” you say; Ominis’ hand hangs in air. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Why did you come?”

“To find something to do. To… distract myself. All this business with Ranrok…”

You don’t need to say anything more. He knows.

The corners of his mouth tug upwards. “There’s always homework. I believe we have eight inches to write for Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Already finished it.”

“Naturally. Don’t tell Sebastian though, he might want to copy.”

“If he doesn’t I’ll assume someone hexed him.”

Ominis smiles more warmly and takes a tentative step closer; in the light of the braziers, shadows writhe and bend against him, sharply cleaving his features, and it makes him look like he could set fire to the world.

"Fitting, isn't it?" he murmurs, so quiet his voice blends with the song's deeper notes. "The verse speaks of how we wear masks to pretend all is well, but only in moonlight do our true feelings arise."

"Shall we promise, then, to leave the masks behind tonight?"

"I’ll promise that," he says, offering a hand, “if you'll honour me with a dance.”

“You can dance?”

“A little. And you?”

“No,” you admit, yet you breach his space, close enough to smell his cologne, “but it might be nice to learn.”

“It’s simple.” He guides your hand to his shoulder, and clasps the other gently in his own. “If a blind man can do it, you are more than capable.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that.”

“I’m only trying to make you feel comfortable.” His tone is lighter, laced with teasing. “Follow my lead.”

His free hand goes to your waist, and the touch dizzies you as he coaxes you back, to the left, forwards again and around. Ominis commands you so well you wouldn't believe he wasn’t born to play the role of the dutiful heir of Slytherin, born to lead his pure-blood family to its inherent greatness. Were it not for his virtuous beliefs, his unwavering loyalty and kind heart, perhaps it would be true. It was that compassion that drew you to him in the first place, so long ago – and it's the small ways he continues to prove his compassion that keeps you there, a stalwart presence at his side.

With him, leaving the mask behind is easier.

“Let the music show you the way,” he says, when you curse after a misstep. “Feet position doesn’t matter so much as the reason we're dancing.”

You step in again, basking in his scent. “What are we dancing for?”

“That depends on you.”

“To peace, then.” You smile at him though he cannot see. “We dance to carve out a moment of peace.”

“I like that.”

He leads, you follow. The Undercroft becomes your stage, Ominis the prince that sweeps you away. There is no rebellion, no school, no expectation of society, responsibility, or real life. All you see is him, all you feel is his compassion, the shadows that yield to him giving you room to breathe. He may have darkness at his beck and call, and you the tumult of an incoming storm, but together you make something brilliant and beautiful. Together you make the lone ray of the moon that lights the way through the everlasting night.

“You see?” he says, with that inexplicably captivating softness. “You're a natural.”

You squeeze his hand.

“I have a good teacher.”

A loud cough jerks Ominis back, out of your grip.

The grille closes, and Sebastian strolls inside, robe thrown over his shoulder, looking terribly smug.

“Interrupt something, did I?”

“No,” Ominis barks at once, that softness replaced by calloused edges and walls. He steps a polite distance away, but doesn’t turn his back. “You presume too much.”

“Or I don’t presume enough?”

You sweep down your robe, fixing Sebastian a glare. He only wiggles his brow at you. Ingrate.

“Either way, stop that racket. I need absolute silence to copy your Defence Against the Dark Arts essays.”

Moment dashed, masks on, Ominis makes a weary grunt and goes to turn the gramophone off… but you don’t miss the smile that lingers on his face.

Fin.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed <3

[read on AO3] [Gabriel Fauré's Clair de lune on YouTube] [Divider credit]

[januaryembrs]

HEARTBEAT | Geralt x reader

Request: hellooo! if your still up for requests i'd love a geralt one please! perhaps reader is vary of horses (maybe even afraid) and he tries to help? &lt;3

description: After learning your fear of horses, Geralt takes a gentle approach at teaching you to trust his companion, Roach.

Word Count: 1.1k

Trigger warnings: fear of horses? close proximity?

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Authors note: I'm back finishing the last of the requests sent, I do so apologise for the wait I've been super busy over Christmas and hope to satiate you all soon!

“What’s wrong?” Came his rugged voice, knocking you out of the stressed reverie you were in. 

“What?” You asked, half mindedly, “What do you mean?” You repeated, finally coming out of your thoughtful daze. 

“You’re being strange. Have been ever since we left town,” You felt caught. Witcher’s were naturally observant men, something you cursed yourself for not thinking of before, now that it had come back to bite you in the arse. 

And you had been acting strange. First it was refusing to mount the horse Geralt rode, Roach you knew her to be. You were tired all the time from walking the whole way to the next town while Geralt had the luxury of a steed, though you had brought the punishment on yourself you supposed. Then it was flinching every time the poor mare so much as whinnied, which she did so a lot when spooked by the monsters Geralt brought down. And now you refused to even sleep if she was too close to your bedspread. 

When you had been in town, it was not so noticeable. You spent a lot of time at the inn you were staying at, away from the bay coloured mare, so Geralt had not noticed the odd habits before. But now the two of you had hit the road and were sleeping next to a campfire instead of a roaring hearth, it was much more apparent.

“I-” You cut yourself off as the words died in your mouth. Your face blanked for a moment, thinking long about how you were to explain the issue to a man who knew no fear.

Geralt slayed monsters for a living, monsters that knew how to kill and kill well. Some of the bodies he brought back were two, three times his already mammoth size, and he still managed to charge at them without any hesitation. 

How on all the gods names were you supposed to tell him you were scared of horses? 

“Spit it out, then.” Geralt grumbled in his brash manner, though you could see in his amber eyes he was veiling his annoyance over true concern. Perhaps you wanted to leave him, he had expected nothing less. The two of you had only been friends a matter of months, but everyone always tires of him and his lifestyle eventually. 

He knew exactly what was to come out of your mouth. 

I don’t want to know you anymore.

“I’m scared of horses,” His head whipped up to meet your sullen eyes. Your face painted that of deep embarrassment, avoiding his gaze and poking at the fire with a frown. 

“What?” He bit, the confusion of the sentence clear as a bell in his tone. “What do you mean? It’s a horse.”

Your face flooded with heat that surely hadn’t come from the camp. The way he said it made it sound such a foolish fear to have. And it was, you supposed. Roach had never made any move to harm you or anyone else for that matter. But the idea of being atop such a muscled beast and giving her full control of whether she throws you off her or not made you frozen to the bone. 

“No shit,” You snapped, though all rebellion died in your chest as you accepted the fact he was clearly judging your fear of such a harmless creature. “I know it sounds ridiculous, I just always have been scared of them, alright?” 

Geralt pondered with a frown. Not even his usual ‘Hmm’ made an appearance, and so the two of you sat in silence. You feeling more foolish by the second, and him thinking fast of how to get through this problem of yours. 

Until he stood up brashly, walking over to his furred companion. You thought for a moment he was going to leave you here alone, thinking he stood much better chances with someone who was not so cowardly. And how could you blame him? You would hate to be stuck with someone so fearful when it came down to such a hostile environment. 

“Come here,” The behemoth man commanded, though he did so as gently as his rumbling voice would allow. 

You stared after him, eyes flicking to his outstretched hand, following his figure up to the calm mare that seemed unbothered by her owner's close proximity.

You hesitated for a moment, before standing and following his orders. Slowly taking steps towards the two, Geralt caught the moment your breath died in your throat as Roach grunted as horses normally do. He saw the way your fingers clenched at your side and your step faltered. 

He lowered his hand to calmly take yours in his large grasp, gently tugging you towards him and Roach despite the way he felt you resist. 

“Geralt-” You protested, her long snout seeking out your new smell and blowing hot air in your face. You tried stepping away from her, but Geralt’s body encompassed yours and forced you in place. His one arm stayed holding your wrist easily, while the other came around your body to push her snout away from your face softly. 

“She’s just curious about you, is all. She won’t hurt you,” Geralt tried to soothe you, feeling his strong heartbeat pressing against your spine. He began shuffling you forward under her neck with a strength you still tried and failed to resist against. 

“Geralt, please,” The panic was clear in your voice. You didn’t like horses and never would, and this kind of close exposure to them may have worked for some but only made you more on edge.

“Just trust me,” He whispered in your ear tenderly, lifting your arm up to her muscled chest. Your hand met her soft fur, her skin quivering momentarily at the contact though she showed no sign of upset, and his large hands spread your palm out onto her own heart beat. 

“Horses' hearts beat much slower than yours, did you know?” He murmured, keeping you tucked under her head and in front of him. You shook your head, feeling your own chest pounding at the proximity to such a beast. “Witchers hearts beat even slower than that,”  His breath was close to your ear now, as was Roach’s on your opposite side. You felt as if you were being squished in between the two of them, their breaths synchronising as they rolled down your spine in equal parts heat and chill. For every other beat of Roach’s heart came Geralt’s reverberating strongly in his chest, and it was then that you realised what he was doing. They sounded the same, horse and man. Hearts beating alike, breath swarming your senses gently, no danger to be found. 

If you should be worried about anything on your journey, it should be the monster-slaying beast that stood behind you that caressed your hand so kindly, and whispered in your ears that made your breathing stutter. 

This time when Roach nickered in your direction, you felt little fear, atleast half of what you’d had before. There was nothing to worry about when you had a man like Geralt guiding you.

[auraisereigh]

"For the love of... whatever lord you pray to"

Chapter 6

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Now that the assembly has been made, the first meeting awaits wc: 4.7k ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Chaos, it's an assembling meeting, says enough. Star still struggling with the aftermath of the rebellion, that's still gonna be like that for a while. Flashback. Let me know if i missed something. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

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Who would know that people who all stand for the same thing could argue this much.

Apparently some have very hard feelings against each other.

I look over to where Felix and Aethan stand at the end of the table, once me and Felix lock eyes I give him a subtle glare.

"For the love of... Whatever lord you pray to, shut up. All of you." My voice bites through the room and suddenly it's quiet. "Thank you." I say but it's far from a polite thank you.

"I made a list of things I wanted to discuss for this meeting." I say sliding the paper to the middle of the table. "But first, I wrote down the ranks for each member of the assembly. Feel free to object but I really don't care. Take it or leave it."

No one says anything. Good I wasn't feeling on discussing that sentence either. Ulices leans forward, intrigued.

"I've assigned Ulices and Suri to be in command of the remaining army that we have and over time hopefully rebuild our army. Any disagreements?" They better don't, I spent so much time on these. Aethan raises his hand. Lord. "No." I say before he can. "But I just-" he starts. "No." I cut him off.

I smile as he lowers his hand. "Perfect. Any other disagreements? No? Good." I say sarcastic.

I sigh as I look at the small paper I wrote all the ranks on. "I've decided that Felix and Trissa will be the head of writing and sending letters to possible allies. Though I will not object to personal letters being that are sent to allies being written by that person. Just, they," I say pointing at Trissa and Felix. "Are the ones that choose what goes out, what gets written and so on." I finish. Nobody disagrees. Trissa even looks slightly pleased.

"Kylynn, you're responsible for the weaponary. Yes we partly lost our forge. But from what Felix told me they are rebuilding that first so I expect you be responsible that our army has their weapons and that the forge keeps running." She nods sharply.

Now the most difficult part will come. Or in my words the 'this will end in a long discussion moment'. "I've chosen Felix as my aide." All heads turn sharply to where I stand at the head of the table. "I know and trust him the best. Though in this assembly most decisions will be made in a voting with the entire assembly, which includes my brother, Xaden, by the way. He will be part of the assembly once we can get him back here." I finish. "Now, for where that leaves me... I will be lieutenant colonel, head of this place. That doesn't need a reason. This is my house, my city and most important, my throne." I say pointing at my father's throne. My voice leaves no room for another opinion.

"Now, I'm new to this and doing it alone is not something I intend to do. Aethan will also be lieutenant colonel along side me-" I don't even get time to finish as they all Burst out in chaos, clearly not liking it.

I walk backwards and sit on the throne. In the corner of my eye I see Aethan walk towards me, that stupid sheepish smile on his face, I almost regret giving him that rank.

I hold my hand up so he doesn't say anything. All these adults are on fire with each other, I don't need someone else giving me a worse headache than I already have.

Ever since I came back I find myself being more irritable and short tempered than I used to be.

"Enough." Aethan says loud enough for everyone to hear. Suddenly it's quiet.

The ones that stood up sit down again.

"I have a few topics picked out for today as a first assembly meeting, though I'm pretty sure we won't come to an agreement today, it's a good start." I say, the headache pounding.

"What have you chosen for the first meeting, your highness?" Trissa asks, her voice soft as she seems to sense the headache going on.

Highness. That's true, if dads rebellion succeeded, I would be in line to become Queen, not just Duchess.

The thought has me closing my eyes for a moment, my hands leaning on the table.

"Rebuilding Aretia." I picked safe. It was that or let's see how to get my brother back but Felix hasn't heard back from Lewellen so it would be useless.

What If they tell Navarre we're still here? What if they choose Navarre? Loyal to them?

"It's in my understanding that almost all the civilians that survived the scorching have been taken in either here or somewhere else?" I ask

"Yes," Ulices starts. "About half of the people have been given shelter, here, at Riorson house. Others have been put in the stone houses that didn't burn. We're working on giving them food and medical care." I nod. "Is there a chance that we can start rebuilding?" I ask Ulices. The idea of being able to rebuild my home is a flicker of hope but it's the one I need right now.

"With what people?" Ulices asks with a raised brow. I hadn't thought about that. I don't even know how many people we still have.

Felix chimes in. "Though we may not have many people, we have some. And what is left of the army can also help the rebuild. It's not a lot, and it will go slow," he looks me in directly in the eye. "It is possible. We don't have a lot we can do right now so the start of rebuilding is smart. No one will suspect a thing, everyone thinks this land is cursed anyway." He finishes.

Kylynn looks at me. "As our forge is not running now I will overlook the rebuilding, where to start and who to use. We should prioritize what we will build first." She says, a hint of argument in het tone.

I nod grateful at her. Rebuilding Aretia could be the start of... whatever this is.

Suri seems to think the same thing as she scans the list of subjects I'd written down for this meeting. "And where do you plan on going with this?" She motions with her finger towards all of us.

"I wanna continue what my father started." I explain with a hint of insecurity.

Insecurity.

☆

"Now, remember that when you go in this meeting you don't show weakness." Dad explains as we start walking to the meeting room.

"No weakness or insecurity. It will only show that you don't know what you're talking about. Or that you care what they think, you don't." He says firm.

"Don't care about what they think because even though I sit in that throne now, one day it will be yours. And you will rule this city, this kingdom."

☆

After the meeting only me, Aethan and Felix remain in the room. The Assembly had agreed to slowly start a new Rebellion but call it a Revolution as we don't plan to attack. We just want to help innocent, defenseless people.

"Any news on Xaden?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Felix looks at me before shoving a letter to me. "House Lindell has received both Liam and Xaden." Felix confirms. "They still swear alliance to Aretia and your father's idea." A hope sparks in my chest.

"So he can come back here?" I ask trying to keep the hope out of my voice. "House Lindell has offered to bring both Xaden and Liam back to Aretia but not now. Too much has just happened and if someone comes to check if Xaden is at House Lindell and he isn't..." Felix explains as I scan over the letter. "They could execute him." I finish for him.

He nods. "House Lindell has proposed to let things calm down for now. That perhaps it would be better to bring them back in a month or two." He speaks so carefully like the wrong words might shatter the pieces I still have of myself.

"Okay." I whisper. "Hey, it's not all bad." Aethan Chimes in. "Now you can slowly prepare for your brother's arrival, you've always enjoyed these things, right?" He walks closer so we're almost touching. I nod.

He will come back. Soon. He has to, it's the last thread of hope that I have. The last light that shines through.

☆

That night, I spend almost the whole afternoon there. Aethan and Felix thought it would be a good idea to come up with a few other topics for the Assembly meetings.

We'd decided that for now meetings would occur every morning, seeing as there was so much to do but over time we Would only do it when it was necessary. At the end of the day, everybody got their jobs so there would be no need to make a meeting about the littlest of things.

After I read through all of the letters Viscount Tecarus of Cordyn had sent to my dad in past, seeing as that was another topic I wanted to bring up, I pack it all up in a small notebook for tomorrow and head to my room.

It's when I open the door that I see a plate filled with food on it that I become suspicious, no one comes in here and those who would are dead.

I drop my notebook next to the plate. Theres a small piece of paper next to it, I put two fingers on it so it stays in place.

Figured you would be hungry seeing that it was probably a long day.

- B.s

Brennan.

His handwriting is that typical of a scribe, slightly messy but readable. Like he makes a lot of scribbles.

Like he's the son of a scribe, not a rider.

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

"I want you there ..."

Tech Grief Ficlette

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Warnings: Sad, Grief.

Summary: A grown up Omega has some news for an old friend.

WC: 661 Read on Ao3

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Omega’s boots crunched along the gravel of the familiar path. It had been a while since she had trekked back to Pabu, now the sea breeze danced about her, caressing her cheeks like a welcome from an old friend. 

Her portfolio case swung from one hand, the familiar broken goggles from the other. She was almost never seen without them. Today though, she was heading to a special place on Pabu… the place she came to talk while she finished growing up. Talk to him. 

The cliff line finally broke, giving her a gorgeous view of the sunset. Brilliant orange, just like the amber glass in her hand. She sat at the rocks edge, opened her portfolio and with a sigh, slipped on the goggles. 

She hit record. 

“Hey, Tech… it's been a while, I wanted to update you on what I've been up to…”

It had been forever since she talked to him like this, panic and dread had set in one day when she realized the internal data storage was running low. She didn't want it to loop and record over anything but today was worth talking to him… formally. 

She pulled out the first etching, a dark umbra alive with bonfires and crude little drawings of people. 

“I've been doing well with the rebellion, we won an important skirmish a few months ago, Partied after harder than Hunter says you guys did… but I guess he might have down played what you boys got up to…”

She trailed off, stroking the figures around the little fire, just to have her hand come away black with sooty medium. She furrowed her brow, and wiped her fingers on her pants before drawing out another sketch. 

“This… well, I was trying to design a call mark for the hull of the marauder… nothing really worked out,”

There were over a dozen half finished figures with exs through them, and scattered notes. It wasn't what she was really after. She looked more carefully through her etchings, finally pulling out one of a full body figure. Their back was on full display and every detail and shadow had been filled in lovingly. 

…

“I'm getting married soon… it's gonna be here, on Pabu. I met them out there and well, life is short on the battlefield… you know that more than any so…”

A lump was starting to form in her throat but she swallowed the old pain gracefully, continuing. 

“I'm planning on wearing your goggles… so you can come to, I just wanted to give you a heads up before… before you were just, walking me down the aisle… I hope that's okay,”

It was nonsense, but it always felt like putting his goggles on and pressing record… it was like Tech could open his eyes again for a brief moment. 

“I was always gonna wear them anyways… Hunter insists he should be the one to walk me, but Wrecker said it was unfair and I think it upset Crosshair too… they're taking turns now. Hunter starts, Wrecker in the middle and Cross'll finish it… but you'll be with me the whole time… I want you there…”

She stopped the recording and whipped the goggles off, squeezing her eyes as a few hot tears grazed her cheeks. It had been a long time since she last cried for Tech, but the heightened stress of the past few weeks left her vulnerable to the old wounds. 

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insisted we go, it's my fault…

She caught the thoughts there, releasing them with a shaky sigh as the cycles of grief lit through her for the life that should have been. Thoughts she'd never be rid of even though she knew they weren't true, almost a comfort that she could still feel his absence so greatly… that she never forgot. 

Catching her breath, she checked the remaining storage. Only a few hours left… 

I hope this is okay … I want you there. 

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[partyanimal167]

How Fitting- Crocodile x F!Reader

I'm so happy to see all the new Crocodile content here after that nice man's birthday, so I wanted to add something for all my fellow Croco simps. I've been meaning to write something, so it all worked out. The prompts for his birthday event were certainly helpful too (fashion, au). Requests are open too if anyone has any ideas.

CW: modern au, fluff, fem reader, no pronouns

In all fairness, you were not expecting to be measuring such a specimen within the first week of your job.

The family trade had been sewing for generations, and you were no exception when the call was at your door. Your slight rebellion got you into men's fashion however since you had fond and not-so fond memories of dresses, fluffy underskirts, and berserk brides. Oddly enough, you found yourself to be one of few women in that sector, but you didn't mind so much. You weren't a big name designer, so blending in was easy enough when necessary.

You worked at a well-known shop that had been a community staple for decades. You paraded around in the backrooms where bolts of fabric of all kinds of patterns and materials were stored. You weren't new to this line of work, but you figured you would do simple alterations since most repeat customers had their favorites amongst the tailors.

As you hemmed a pant leg, you heard the bell ring from the front. Soon after, your name was called by your beloved elder boss. You cheerfully walked towards the front not prepared for towering figure at the counter.

It was comical in a sense. Your boss was small and fragile looking compared to tall, muscular man who didn't seem to fit the quaint ambiance of the shop. However, your boss simply beamed at the man who despite having a serious demeanor held some fondness in his eyes.

"I want you to meet Sir Crocodile. He's a very loyal customer here, a familiar face."

You smiled kindly at the man and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The man's lips tugged in a slight grin as he lifted your hand for a soft peck. "Pleasure's all mine." You were surprised by the gesture, but didn't say anything.

"They're quite spectacular in their work. I hope you don't mind, but I'll have 'em take over for today's suit fitting." the old man went on.

You were caught off guard and held up your hands in defense. "Oh I couldn't possibly. I'm sure the gentleman would prefer your work."

The boss looked at your softly. "Please. My arthritis is acting up." He rubbed his hand for emphasis.

Well you couldn't argue with that.

...

The two of you moved to the back, and you couldn't help but notice the strength of the man's presence.

As you set up your work station, you peeked over.

Crocodile was a man of class. You weren't sure what he did professionally, but the fur-lined coat definitely meant money along with the adornment of rings. You made note of the sleek prosthetic as well that was just as much of a luxurious accessory as well as a functional piece. You could appreciate the sight.

You shook your head slightly before reaching for the roughed suit jacket draft. You glanced over the previously noted measurements and turned again.

Crocodile had taken off a few layers and seemed relaxed. He noted your expression and chuckled. "I'm not new to this."

You blinked before nodding and handing the jacket. "Certainly not."

He put it on and pressed it against himself. You held a couple pins between your lips as your checked the lengths with your tape. You hummed as you worked, but soon felt eyes watching you. You looked up and were met with those captivating golden eyes. "Is something wrong?"

The man grinned and shook his head. "Not at all. It's always satisfying watching a professional at work. "

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment and you turned away to feel the shoulders. "Everything comfortable?"

"Quite."

You two went on through the other elements and noted the addition of a notch for a lapel chain.

"What can I say? I'm a bit old fashion."

You giggled before finishing some adjustments. "I can certainly appreciate that."

"You seem to have a bit of personal style yourself." Crocodile motioned towards your silk tie.

You touched it fondly. "Ah this, it's a memento of my grandfather. He was an excellent suit designer."

"I've seen the design before, but I'm afraid to say I don't have one in my collection."

You stepped off the stool and without thinking much replied, "Well I'll be sure to make you one," then you realized, "of- of course, if you're interested."

Crocodile began to dress in his original clothes. "Certainly. I'd be honored."

You weren't quite sure how to respond, so you hummed as you looked over your notes. "There are only minor adjustments to be made before we finish off. We'll be sure to reach out as soon as your suit is complete."

The man nodded before turning to go. "I look forward to it."

~~~

It was just your luck that you were off the day that Crocodile picked up his suit. The custom tie had been included in the boxes, so there was that at least. You could only hope that you'd see him again. Though, a part of you was nervous that he would find something wrong with suit, but your boss simply stated that it was your newbie jitters.

You were out doing some errands outside the shop when you walked passed a well-known cafe. The smell of savory cigar smoke caught your attention, but you were going to continue walking until you heard your name called.

You turned and saw that well-dressed man approaching you--no suit coat in place and appreciated the fitted vest.

Your heart raced when he again kissed your hand in greeting. "Ah I'm sorry to have missed you when picking up my items."

You waved your hand simply and glanced away. "Oh it's alright. I just hope everything is to your liking."

"Of course, I'm happy to say that many have appreciated the new tie as well. Thank you again." he went on.

You swayed a little and scratched your cheek. "Ah that's wonderful news. I'm sure many would try to get it. Too bad that fabric is very limited in its production."

"I'll treasure any one-of-a-kind piece from you, my dear." that made you lost for words.

"Oh, I'm flattered."

"Only stating the truth." he paused. "How about you join me for lunch?"

You totally wanted to, but looked at your watched. "I'm afraid I have some more tasks to complete."

Crocodile looked a little shock to see someone turn him down but it was quickly replaced with a grin. He reached into his pocket before pulling out his wallet. He handed you a card and looked deep in to your eyes. "Well please reach out when you have a chance. Don't keep me waiting." the eyes kept you locked in and you nodded shyly.

"Of course not."

~~~

I was totally counting on this being a model au and that totally didn't happen. I liked this intimate version though. Crocodile is certainly getting his suits custom and tailored.

Happy birthday to that gruff bossman.

Thanks for reading!

[explodingchantry]

hi sorry to come into your inbox for this but i just need. to gripe. every new bit of info we get about the new DA game is making me more and more preemptively tired lol. mostly the way it's looking like eeevery bit of lore that's been revealed has something to do with such and such book. or this comic over here. or this podcast from two years ago. or THIS podcast that is happening now that's a ~discord exclusive~. or this youtube series. or this random VA talk show. etc etc ad nauseam. i am so tired of videogames coming with HOMEWORK you're expected to do just to know what's going on

Please never apologise for sending messages!!

I think its honestly REALLY funny how bioware just doesn't know what it wants. On one hand they say that the new game is fine for newcomers, the way they did for dai, and use this as an excuse for how dumbed down some of the writing is - but then in the other hand the majority of the characters and plot beats have origins hidden behind pay walls.

It was already bad enough when, to understand each game properly you had to have paid for the previous one's dlc (want to know anders' past as a warden? Buy awakening! Want to know wtf is up with Morrigan and the eluvians? Buy witch hunt! Want to know who tf corypheus is and what hawke and varric even have to do with him? Buy legacy! Want to understand ANYTHING about veilguard? Play the descent AND trespasser, our epilogue that we hid behind a paywall!!!!!) and you know at least the dlcs were pretty good on their own so I could forgive it a little bit.

But there's so much extra media now omg I haven't touched a single one of the comics because I'm not rly into American comics, I've read almost all the books and some of them are genuinely fucking mid. And at least back in the day the books were more... Bonuses? You DONT need to read the stolen throne to understand anything on the games, but it's INTERESTING. it explores characters you mightve been curious about. I love that ! Or the last flight is really interesting, just, to see how the 4th blight was beaten, to get to know those legendary heroes, and know why griffons went extinct. A bit annoying because you do need to read it to also understand how the hell they're coming back - but it still feels a bit more like a bonus than a necessity.

But then we have asunder, which also in general just kinda sucks as a book, that is really really needed to understand the mage rebellion, Fiona, Cole, and the cure for tranquility. The characters will explain a lot of those things to you in game, but it leaves you with the certain feeling that you're missing something. It's a huge advertisement for asunder.

Similarly wicked eyes and wicked hearts is hollow if you haven't read the masked empire which is also my least favorite book because it's so damn fucking boring I literally never managed to finish it, but it's mostly because I hate Trick Weekes' writing lmfao. Gaider was wildly misogynistic but my god at least he was entertaining as a writer whenever he didn't butcher female characters.

That's two major plot beats in inquisition that require reading one of the books. And ofc it's major villain and another major plot beat that require having played the previous game's dlc to properly understand.

And since then we've had so much more. I don't know. It's just complicated because I *like* book characters showing up and the books having importance in the sense that, I like reading and I'm a lore nerd lol. But I think there's a lot of frustration to be had as to the sheer quantity of extra media you need to consume if you want to be invested in the story. Because you could say "well just don't buy them then" but I LIKE dragon age, it's story, and plot, but omg some of the books and comics are also so hard to find and so EXPENSIVE. I think tevinter nights costs like 20£ if you want it on paperback rather than Kindle, and don't get me started on the dozens of comics.

At least the podcasts and discord only content isn't nearly as offensive, imo, because they're free. But also there's another issue with all of this extra content - it's that it doesn't get fucking translated. Not often, anyway. Not in as many languages as the games do. That means there are many, many many many players and fans who are just not allowed to learn more about their favorite game series because they don't speak English, because theyre not rich enough to buy 10 books and 20 comics. It feels a bit wrong

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Twice Drowned

Summary: It's just the Little Mermaid but with Icy and Tritannus.

Note: I've had a few people ask about the other Icy ship fics that I wrote/show interested in them. Here's a link to my Ao3 if y'all don't want to dig through my blog to try to find them.

She had fallen through the ice once when she was a little girl. 

She remembers just two things about the incident; firstly that she had fallen in love with the cold anew. Secondly that she does not care for water. 

The cold had comforted her as the water had suffocated her. She doesn’t know how she got out of the water; if it was her own doing—an awakening of instincts and magical ability or if someone else had plucked her out from under the ice. 

She likes to think that she had saved herself. She had never been able to use her powers before then but they had surfaced with extraordinary strength afterwards. She thinks that maybe she had cracked the ice and that someone else had pulled her through the hole that she had created.

It isn’t something that she is particularly eager to relive but she seldom has a choice. She certainly doesn’t in this instance. The waves are ravenous. They have already devoured the ship. She should have flown out of the ocean’s grasp while she had the chance. But pride, as it usually is, is her downfall again. It would have been quite cowardly to jump ship. They are, afterall, hauling something precious. Unspecified and spoken of on a need to know basis—apparently she didn’t need to know—but she knows that it is precious.

Really she has no business being their anyhow, as the princess of Dyamond she ought to be at home. But Sapphire’s adventurous spirit is contagious and she has been sitting still, prim, and proper for too long. 

Ever since she’d fallen through the ice her parents had become suffocating. They pamper and spoil her but they hover oppressively. Lovingly but oppressively no less. They have become protective to a maddening degree and so she has acted on Sapphire’s encouragement and has taken to the sea. 

Her slight frame makes it easy to pass herself as one of the sailor’s sons. And so she wears her hair tucked, out of sight, under a hat and wears clothing baggy enough to hide her subtle feminine attributes. It would seem that she passes a little too well; she will die like any other shiphand—with salt stinging her eyes and water filling her lungs, perhaps smashed against craggy rocks or shredded by the reef.

She has taken to the sea and now the sea takes her.

Really, she thinks, it is just stealing back what belongs to it.

Finishing what it had started some ten years ago.

.oOo.

Beautiful. 

The girl is beautiful.

She is ethereal.

She is human.

She drifts down…

                             down….

                                            down…

It seems like slow motion the way that she falls, her hair comes free from the hat and fans out around her head, swishing like curtains in a breeze or seaweed in a current. She is bleeding but Tritannus can’t tell from where.

She isn’t flailing and her expression is serene; either she has been underwater for a long time already or she is simply accepting of fate. Tritannus swims his way towards her. He knows that he is not supposed to. Father forbade it. But between he and his brother, he has always been the more rebellious one.

And, really, how can he resist this one? She is so pretty, so delicate. She has this innocent look about her and he has a sense of curiosity to compliment his sense of rebellion.

Against everything Neptune and Ligea have advised him, he hooks has arms around the girl’s and he takes her to the surface. He has never held a girl before, let alone a human girl. Her head falls against the crook of his neck, her hair tickles his neck. He brings her to the column of rock that juts up from the sea floor. He carefully lays her upon it.

Up close he can make out finer features, like the sparse sprinkle of freckles on her neck and right shoulder and the soft shimmer of her pale skin. She has a soft face save for a pointier chin; a dainty nose, soft cheeks, delicate lips that are slightly parted. 

Tritannus leans in closer to those lips, listening for a soft inhale and feeling for the exhale of her breath. 

His heart leaps when, at first, he doesn’t hear or feel a thing. But he catches the rise and fall of her chest so she must be breathing. But, aside from the swishing of the locks of hair that spill over the rock and into the water, she is completely still. So terribly still. 

He touches her cheek and he feels quite ill.

She is cold.

As dead things are. 

But she breathes, he reminds himself. She breathes and she has a pulse. And her cheeks have color, not much of it but enough of it to set her apart from some of the other humans that the ocean has claimed. 

She gives a little hum and Tritannus’s heart leaps. 

She is waking up.

She is waking up and he hasn’t thought of anything to say to her! 

And his hand! It is still cupping her cheek. 

.oOo.

Icy sits herself up. She feels quite woozy and terribly tired. She should be grateful that she feels anything at all. She purses her lips and furrows her brows; yes, she is indeed alive. But how? It takes her a moment to realize that someone is touching her face. Her face is all cut up and bruised, the saltwater causes a quite dreadful burning sensation. 

It is more of a reflex than anything, to aggressively swat at the hand that caresses her cheek. She stops just shy of planting her fist in the boy’s face. 

“Do you always punch the ones who save your life?”

Icy shrugs. “Not typically. But those people aren’t usually stroking my face. Do you always plaster your hand on the people that you rescue?” 

The boy laughs. “I…” His face flushes. “No but…it’s just…I was trying to…I like your face!” 

Icy tilts her head. “You speak eloquently.” 

How this dolt has managed to muster up enough brainpower to save her is beyond her. And what does it say about her that she has required rescue from a buffoon? She grimaces and a light blush creeps across her own face. 

“I’m actually quite charming when I’m not taken by surprise.”

“How have I surprised you?”

“You woke up.”

“Do you often perch dead bodies upon rocks?” Icy tilts her head. “That’s an interesting hobby. Do you watch them decompose? How do you keep the sharks and sirens away?”

“Okay first of all, they don’t like to be called sirens, that has some negative connotations. Secondly I knew that you were alive. I just didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.”

“So you were just going to sit on this rock with me and stare at me for hours? That’s a little weird, don’t you think?” 

“What else could I do!? Just leave you there?”

“You could have taken the time to find help.” Icy shrugs. “You’re a good swimmer, yes?” 

“You could say that…” He trails off. 

“Elaborate.” There is an air of command in her voice. A well practiced tone of voice if he had to guess. 

“You’ve got a lot of spunk for someone who almost drowned.”

She shrugs. “Not my first time.” She pauses. “Although this time was a bit more draining. Thre was a lot more action this time around. More screaming and manual labor as we tried to keep the ship afloat. The first time I kind of just slipped under.” Come to think of it, her arms are quite sore and her legs are throbbing. 

“Have you tried not drowning?” 

She nods. “It wasn’t for me though.” 

“Oh, you have a sense of humor.”

Icy nods. 

“Do you have a name?”

“No. People usually just shout, ‘hey you’ and refer to me as ‘that one asshole’. So I never really needed a name.” 

“Wait, really?”

“Do people by chance call you ‘dumbass’. Because I think that it fits.” 

The boy frowns. 

“You’re thinking about throwing me back into the ocean, aren’t you?” She supposes that she does have that effect on people. If her mother heard the way that she talks when she slips out into the streets to mingle with the commoners…

If her mother knew that she was sneaking out at all she would probably fall into a faint. She supposes that she is lucky that Sapphire is so openly and distractingly rambunctious. “I’ll pull you under with me if you try and we’ll both drown.”

“That plan might not work out as well as you think it will.” He leans back in the water and flashes his tail at her. It glints a scaly teal-green before it disappears back under the water.

“You’re a merman.” 

“Well I’m glad that your eyes weren’t damaged by the sea salt.”

Icy folds her arms across her chests and sniffs. “I suggest that you make use of that tail and use it to swim me back to Dyamond.”

“Swim you back to Dyamond? You didn’t even thank me for swimming your sorry ass over to this rock.” 

“This rock is craggy and covered in sea slime—it is not comfortable to sit my ass upon.”

“My apologies, I’ll just let you get nice and cozy under the sea then.” He gives her a shrug and then turns his back on her. 

The sound that she makes isn’t exactly flattering. “Where are you going?”

“Well you don’t want my help so…”

“You get back here right now! I will have you know that I am the princess of Dyamond and I…”

“Am very important?”

Icy fixes him with a smug smile, “indeed.”

“To humans maybe. Well have fun on this rock.” He begins to sink beneath the surface.

If she does find a way off of said rock, she vows to put more emphasis on her flying lessons instead of neglecting them for lessons in combat and spell mastery. Flying has never been her strong suite. She certainly doesn’t have enough flight in her to get her all the way back to Dymond. “You’re not actually going to leave me here?” It is supposed to come out like a command but there is a hitch in her voice that turns it into a question instead.

The boy pauses. “Well…I might not.” He looks over his shoulder. “You have to tell me your name first.”

“Who's to say that I’ll give you a truthful answer.”

“Well if I find out that you lied to me I’ll start referring to you as ‘that asshole’ like everyone else supposedly does.” 

Icy folds her arms across her chest. “Icy. My name is Icy.”

“Icy?”

“Because I fell through the ice as a child and it altered my magic type.”

“What was your name before and your magic type.”

“Don’t remember and I never knew.” 

“How do you not…”

“Dymond is a planet of shifting seasons. Sometimes powers shift and names are adjusted accordingly. I never had a chance to use my original powers before I fell through the ice and altered them.” She shrugs. “I don’t mind though. Icy suits me just fine.” And it has kept her alive in these freezing waters. 

“I’m Tritannus, prince of Andros. I would be anyways if my twin brother hadn’t been born twelve minutes before me.”

“Have you considered murder?” 

“How does someone with such an adorable face develop such a sinister personality.” 

Icy groans. It is so terribly tiring to hear that repeatedly. That she is cute or precious or whatever else. “Just take me home in silence or I’ll have my subjects eating fish fillet for months.”

.oOo.

The stories that Ligea has told him since birth have led him to believe that the sea witch is an ugly, decrepit thing. 

She is anything but. 

She is stunning and terrifying. Stunningly terrifying and terrifyingly stunning.

In the stories, the sea witch stares with unseeing, inky eyes. She is gaunt and skeletal with jagged little eel teeth. Supposedly she has the skin of an eel and thick black tentacles with little barbs on the suckers. She is supposedly translucent so that one can gaze upon all of her innards and throbbing bits. Her hair is said to be lacking and continuously falling off to display a scalp as rough as coral.

The only thing that they have gotten right is the bit about her eyes being coal black. She has a rather voluptuous figure and a rich complexion. Her hair falls in waves and it falls long enough to swish around what would have been her ankles if she were a human woman. Instead it weaves between tendrils that are less like octopus tentacles and more like jellyfish arms. She is gorgeous in a way that starkly contrasts Icy’s soft, gentle beauty. The sea witch’s beauty is of the dangerous variety. Alluring and charming that fits well with the angler fish that thrash and snap within a cage behind her. Where Icy’s beauty came in seafoam shades of white and blue, the sea witch possesses beauty in octopus ink purple and abyss black hues.

Icy. 

He is here for her. 

He can’t put her out of his mind. 

Can’t stop thinking about how sharply her demeanor contrasts her appearance.

“Come closer, boy, step out of the light.” 

“Isn’t that counter productive?” He asks. 

The sea witch chuckles. “But I can see you so much better in the dark.” 

“That’s why they call you Darcy, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, sure.” She shrugs. “Among other reasons.” She turns around and slinks deeper into her cave. A single arm emerges from the dark crevice that she has slipped into. He can see just half of her forearm and the beckoning wagging of her pointer. “Come on, little boy, just a little closer for Darcy.”

Tritannus shudders. 

Swimming deeper into the trench is the last thing that he wants to do and it directly contradicts his first priority; to see Icy again. And stepping into this trench is the only way to make that happen. Is it stupid? Completely foolhardy? 

Probably. 

Almost definitely. 

He has only just met Icy. And she is a princess, she probably already has a betrothed. Not that he can imagine her actually going through with an arranged marriage. 

“Don’t keep me waiting, boy.” Again Darcy’s voice creeps out of the cavern. “I can sense the desperation on you, the desire. If you keep me waiting I will slip out of sight and you’ll have to talk to Stormy.” 

“Stormy?” 

“It is kind of her fault that you’re here. She called for the storm that splintered your lover’s ship.” 

He doesn’t like the way that she draws out the ‘L’ in lover. He doesn’t like that she already knows why he is here. He doesn’t like that he doesn't know how she knows. His mind drifts once more to his father’s words of caution. To his mother’s tales of the sea witch and her deceptions. 

“I want legs so that I can be among the humans.” Tritannus takes only a few strides further into the abyss. “What’s your price?” 

“Legs…” Darcy drawls. “Well that’s a pretty hefty ask.”

He swallows hard. 

“Look, I’m not so cruel as to take an arm or two but I’m not just going to give you a leg or two for free.”

“Two legs.” Tritannus says. “Just so we’re clear, I do want two of those.” 

The sea witch chuckles. “And I want your voice.” 

“My…voice?”

“I’m a collector, you see.”

“I can’t see shit in here actually.”

She laughs again. “Oh I almost don’t want to take your voice, you use it so well.” Darcy slips back into the light. “But I also don’t want to undersell my services. That is my price, take it or leave it, I’m sure that you can find other ways to tell stupid jokes.”

“The ‘tell’ aspect of telling a joke is kind of a critical component.” 

“The best comedians know when to stop joking.” Her voice is lower. Deeper with a hint of warning. “What will it be? Legs for your voice?”

“Legs for my voice.” He agrees. 

He might not have done it if he knew that it would be so painful. If he knew that it would feel like a fish hook catching on his uvula and yanking it clean out.

He might not have done it if she’d mentioned her little stipulation upfront.

Three days. 

He only has three days to win Icy’s affections and receive true love’s kiss or he will lose his legs and become one of the gaunt and wretched creatures that Darcy has chained to the wall. 

Three days to win the heart of the coldest, sassiest, most sarcastic and walled off bitch that he has ever come across. Three days to win the heart of the most intriguing, secretly kind of really affectionate person that he has ever encountered.

It dawns upon him that he is getting the short end of this deal. 

The short end unless he manages to get that kiss.

He hugs his newfound legs to his chest; he hopes that he hasn’t just made a mistake, that he hasn’t just sold his voice for a chance that he never truly had. 

The castle looms behind him. 

The sand sifts next to him. He has company. 

“You come here often?” He mumbles without looking up.

“Not really.” She replies. He’d know that voice anywhere. 

Had she been looking for him? 

By the pull of the waves, he hopes so.

[thesweetnessofspring]

Trick or Treat!!!

Prompt: Katniss and Peeta trying to have their first Halloween post-rebellion.

(Could be moodboars, drabble, headcanons, etc..) 🧡🖤🧡

I don't think Panem (or at least D12) have Halloween, but I have a little something for Everlark in their first autumn post-rebellion.

First, some music for ya:

Our bedroom has gotten colder these past few weeks, but we don't shut the window. Peeta emanates enough heat to keep us warm under our blankets. When my nose gets cold, I bury my head into his neck and warm up right against his skin.

This morning, my nose buried between his neck and our pillow, I'm between the place of a rare pleasant dream and the grounded reality of Peeta's arms around me. And something in me is so grateful for him, I give him a kiss on his collarbone.

He stirs under me and asks in his deep, groggy morning voice, "Katniss?"

I hadn't thought of him feeling the kiss and I wonder if I should be self-conscious of what I just did. We've been sharing a bed since the start of summer, but we hadn't kissed one another yet. A lot holding each other, hands wiping away tears, but nothing to give way to what we had been that night on the beach.

I pull back and hope not to talk about it. Even hope that maybe he'll question if it was his own pleasant dream.

"I have a surprise for you," I say. "But you have to get up and get dressed."

"What's the surprise?" he asks.

"That's not how surprises work," I say as I pull back the covers and sit up. "Get dressed. Sturdy shoes and warm."

He doesn't ask any more questions as he goes to the closet to pick out his clothes while I go to the bathroom to change into mine. From there, I go to the kitchen and prepare two thermoses of hot tea, one with a spoonful of sugar and one unsweetened. I'd prepared both of our bags the night before and give Peeta his.

Outside, our hands automatically find one another as we walk in the dark autumn morning. The rest of the district continues to sleep, the skeletons of buildings in the middle of their construction waiting for the workers to return.

We walk past the Seam, past the meadow, and past the apple trees we'd spent last week gathering to make apple fritters. The palest sunbeams filter through the forest's trees, dark pines and autumnal oak.

Peeta's grip tightens. "You're bringing me in here?"

"It's safe," I say. "I'll make sure you stay safe."

"It's not that," he says. "I guess I've always thought of this as your place. Yours and...his."

"It's anyone's who wants it to be theirs now," I say. "And I want to show it to you."

He acquiesces and follows me into the forest. I keep an eye on him. Even without a fence or Peacekeepers enforcing the perimeter, few people have braved the woods. Yet Peeta takes it all in with round, awed eyes. Sometimes I can sense he wants to stop and pause, but I keep us moving until we reach the rock ledge looking out to the crests of mountains and the spine of the valley below. The sun has illuminated the land with morning honey light, filtering through a distant mist. It is a dappled mixture of deep green pine trees, yellow-leaved birches, orange-leaved oaks.

I've seen it every fall for years, so instead I take in Peeta's face as he faces a scenery entirely new to him. Yesterday he'd been admiring a single leaf from the oak tree at the entrance of Victors Village and I knew then he had to see this place of unimaginable, untouched beauty, blooming with the season's colors. And he doesn't disappoint. A long puff of a cloud emerges from his lips parted in wonder and the corners of his mouth peak up.

"This is beautiful," he says.

"I put your travelling paints in your backpack," I say. "In case you want to paint it."

"I most definitely do."

I get out the food I'd packed in my bag while Peeta prepares his watercolors and paper and gets to working. I've divided up the breakfast of raisin bread, candied pecans, and apples onto two plates but I've finished all of mine before Peeta looks up from his colors to nibble on his own. I sip my tea and simply watch the sun rise over the ridges and Peeta's hands dabble color onto his paper.

When he's finished he sets it aside to dry a little as he finishes his breakfast and sits back.

"I'd seen these colors on the mountains around us, but I could never imagine what it'd be like to look down on them," Peeta says.

"There's still a lot of beauty for us to see," I say.

"I don't know what I could possibly show you," he says.

I think of what I can't put into words. Hope. Light. Warmth. The beauty Peeta gives me every day is so much more precious than this view, even if it's all I have to offer him in return.

Instead, I lean forward and kiss him on the cheek so he knows this isn't a dream.

[n7punk]

I accidentally drafted this instead of scheduling it for the start of October BUT I wanna talk about the scrapbusting aspect of Sapphic September for me now it's done because it was really successful for me.

Oh to start, let me actually explain scrapbusting: it's going through your scraps/fabric pile and finally sewing the pieces you've stocked up there. Usually it's more of a quilters thing since they can much more easily use small scraps, but the term has spread through the entire sewing community now and I've also seen it used for finally completing projects you may have cut out but never sewn and such.

So a lot of my SS ideas came out of nowhere (what is Ritual. Like actually) but this event was also so good for convincing myself to finally do things I'd been holding on to forever and I wanna go over those! I'm also gonna include a little of AU-ctober/Sheratober in here at the end

highlights / fault lines (OotW) [teeth]: i have had the highlights document sitting in my WIPs folder for 2 years (Oct 2022), starting with the first paragraph in the second scene for the final fic, and then just a little blurb of what the fic would be about (adora struggling to adjust/with her depression after joining the rebellion to explore how unhealthy she managed to be in secret). when I started writing the teeth prompt, i wrote that first scene and went, wait, this could actually tie into that old idea, so i pasted it into that old doc and just went from there. I'm so glad to have finally gotten that idea out there and it was basically accidental lol.

Sickfic (the Greys) [UFO]: another file I've had sitting around for two years (Nov 2022), I wrote the first paragraph and then immediately switched over to what the first chapter of Recycled Stardust ended up being, the museum gallery opening. I was writing it for a friend who was sick, so "sickfic" made sense, but then I had the other idea and asked them which idea they'd prefer, and they chose the art gallery, so that other idea just sat there in my WIPs folder titled simply "sickfic.docx" for two years. When I saw UFO on the list I IMMEDIATELY went oh my god I'm going to finally finish this thing.

the bones of what you believe (OotW) [bones]: This is a partial hit. I came up with the idea for the broken bones thing just for this prompt, but as I started writing it, it naturally morphed into a reality break, and I had the following stub in my OotW ideas folder (titled 'delirium'): "Cognitive dissonance, catra adjusting to bright moon but its so pastel, and soft, and breezy, and smells like open air and flowers, it feels like a halucination, it’s difficult to tell what’s real". I ended up incorporating those aspects into this reality break, which I think works better than trying to turn that into its own fic separately, so another idea down!

Backseat Beast (Trade Today for Tomorrow) [moonlight]: I've had the catcrumbs drawing that inspired this sitting in my drafts, with those tags attached (minus Sapphic September lol), since the 4th of July... 2023. Yeah. I told you this was scrapbusting lol. I knew I wanted to do something with Catra, being far too aware for a kid her age, using it to listen in and be a bit of a little shit, but I never came up with more for it and had the idea it had to be multiple vignettes to make a new installment but like... it doesn't. It can just be one, lol, so as soon as I saw 'moonlight' I thought of TTfT since it's tied into immortality in that verse and I ended up using this idea even though there isn't actually any moonlight directly tied into this idea. I was going to try to write another scene that actually had the moonlight glow, but what I learned this month was that I need to give myself permission to write smaller things more.

mirrorworld (a left turn somewhere around etheria) (OotW) [surreal]: okay obviously I made that original tumblr post four years ago, but I had no intention of actually writing it. I happened to rediscover it two years later though (not really sure when) and decided I should actually write it. Well I wrote one paragraph and then never picked it back up. When I saw both the surreal and mirror prompts I knew I had to actually do this fucking idea now or just delete the damn file lmao.

Starlight (somewhere between the sand & stardust) [the divine/awakening]: This was intended to be my next project after Slipstream before Sapphic September grasped my attention with that fucking ghost prompt. Anyway just a glance at the prompt list told me I could fit in the Lightbeam sequel with these themes somewhere so hey, problem solved! I was a little burnt out on kidfic right after Slipsteam so the break to write all the stupid stuff gave me the room I needed to actually write Starlight.

A Prophecy from an Angry God [prophecy]: Oh boy this one. I don't normally like crossover fic because most of the time the themes of the two things just don't mesh, nevermind the plot, but I do sometimes like AUs just using another universe's rules (thus letting you make your own themes & plot) so that's what I wanted to do with this. The avatar fic came to me as a fever dream in the later house or early morning, I don't remember which, and I made the file in my Scrivener ideas folder on March 24th in 2023, but I wasn't sure I was actually ever going to write it. I remembered it when thinking about prophecy/fate in regards to the Avatar's role, though, and I was like. I'm not deleting this file ever, so I either need to write it now or look at it forever. So I finally wrote it LOL.

In AU-ctober, I've been seeing on the idea for Somewhere Beautiful, We Can Finally Meet for 7 months. I started working on it here and there, but AU-ctober planning started back in early September and I thought this would be a good way to close it out, even if it ended up being much longer than the five days that made up that week.

Rain or Shine I've been sitting on for AGES and the Sheratober prompts helped push me on ideas to finally get it out.

The Green Line idea is only a month old, but it was just "subway AU" and the Sleep prompt came along as a great way to spur interaction by falling asleep on public transit.

[northopalshore]

Hi!! I hope you’re well. Can i please ask about my groom persona chart?

Aqua 8h: neptune (18°) and venus (17°) in conjunction

Pisces 9h: Mercury (13°) and Uranus (12°) in conjunction + MC

Jupiter in Scorpio 5th house at 18°

Gemini Mars 12h at 18°

Have a blessed day!

Hello!

So, Neptune (18° virgo) conjuncting venus (17°leo) in the GPC can mean that your future husband may be a tad bit of an idealist in love. He may have a certain image that he has concerning his partner i.e has a checkbox lol.

He's quite picky with love interests. I will not be surprised if he turns away from someone the moment he realises they have nothing in common with his ideals. He's definitely someone who values deep devotion. That arctic monkeys song is suddenly playing in my head. " At least as deep as the Pacific ocean" . He wants to be swept off his feet and land on his butt lol. He could be interested in people with unique or unconventional looks or he himself may have those traits i.e coloured hair, piercings & tattoos especially if uranus, venus or neptune also conjunct his ascendant. Since it's in aquarius, he may do this despite breaking tradition or social norms for the sake of being original/genuine!

Mercury (13° aries) conjunct uranus (12° pisces) in the 9th house: He could have very unique ideas or thoughts that come across his mind. He may be attention deficit, or have trouble organising his thoughts. His ideas could come left and right, filling his mind and it can make it extra hard for him to focus or sit still. He could be very intelligent but most of his knowledge is self-taught i.e not through books or schools. His intuition may be quite sharp. He could apply his zany ideas into his career. He may talk a lot. Like.. A LOT about his ideas or his beliefs. He can go on and on and not feel tired at all.

Jupiter (18° virgo) in Scorpio 5th house:

His career could involve a lot of creativity or rebellion in a way. If he makes art, it is usually dark or gothic. He could spend hours of his time working on his hobbies, perfecting his craft. He could also be a perfectionist. Maybe he'll find it difficult to start new hobbies for fear of being obsessed with perfection.

Gemini (18° virgo) mars in 12th house:

Again, he may have trouble sleeping or sitting still until his work is finished. He could be very restless in general. He could spend a lot of his time just working on his interests. As long as the ideas are running, he feels like he needs to chase it until the high has come down i.e his projects are complete.

This was a little long, but his energy seems familiar. I think I've had someone like this come up in the first pick a card I posted lol.

Hope this helps ♡

[skzhocomments]

Mafia Book #2 - PART I - The Black Iris - Chapter 8 - The bad guy

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 7 | PART II - The Withered Rose

---

PART I - THE BLACK IRIS

Chapter 8 - The bad guy

chapter word count: 4k words

~10 hours before flying to Italy~

~Iris' POV~

"You finished packing?" Chris asked without raising his gaze from the newspaper in his hands. We were both in the kitchen; I was making a coffee, and he was waiting for everyone to come back from whichever errand they were on.

"Yea. All done. Why are you reading the newspaper?"

"Sometimes enemy gangs organise rebellions and form alliances by using keywords in the columns."

"No way!" I exclaimed.

"Yes way. Look, this one for example might sound normal to the general public."

He handed me the newspaper where a column was highlighted.

~

"Monthly gardeners meeting: Seeking passionate rose gardeners.

Would your heart bloom along the red roses? Would you find joy in discussing this passion among other gardeners?

If so, contact us at X5DK20 and inquire about our monthly meetings."

~

"This... makes no sense."

"It's the perfect advertisement. A person with no interest in gardening wouldn't even pay it any mind, let alone read it carefully enough to figure out it's a sham. Someone who would actually care about gardening would just call and they'd be told it's not available."

"But... what? I don't get it. How would you know...?"

"Why don't you give it a try?" He pointed to my mobile phone that was lying on the table screen down. "Call and see what they say."

I grabbed it reluctantly and dialled the number, and someone responded after a few rings.

"Hello, I saw an ad in the newspaper about a monthly gardeners meeting?"

"Yes, thank you for calling, could you please tell us the three most important roses for any garden?"

"Three most important roses?" I look at Chris, who just shrugged and chuckled.

"We are sorry ma'am. It appears all the spots for the meeting have been occupied. Thank you for your interest." And with that, they hung up.

"See?" Chris was still chuckling.

"I'm super confused right now."

"There used to be a powerful Mafia called The Scarlet Rose. They've been trying to revive it for some time."

"Oh, didn't you mention it before? The woman you loved was part of it, right...?"

He nodded. "We've been trying to find all the people who want to bring that mafia back, but we haven't had too much success yet. When you're back from Italy, you have to get to work too." He smiled, and I chuckled.

"Of course. Han taught me a lot. I will help him."

"Good. By the way, Minho has one last meeting to finish up all the details for the shipment, and said he'll meet you at the airport. Since I.N is the only one here with nothing to do, he's gonna take you."

I nodded. I've never actually spoken to I.N until now, so I bet the three-hour long trip to the airport will be really fun.

~

A few hours later, an uncertain knock on the door, barely audible, took me out of my thoughts.

"We should get going. Ready?" Jeongin asked as soon as I opened the door.

I nodded and he stepped in the room uninvited, grabbing the two suitcases.

"Wait, let me-"

"That's fine." He shrugged me off and brushed over me, carrying both suitcases down the stairs. When we reached the car, he put everything in the trunk and hopped in the driver's seat, without paying me any mind.

I settled myself in the passenger seat next to him and he turned on the radio and started to drive without saying anything to me.

The airport was pretty far away, and after a little while of going through fields and forests, the road became quite familiar, but it was hard to tell.

"Oh, I think I recognise this place." I started, and eyed Jeongin, but he didn't show anything on his face.

"Really?" He asked drily.

"Yea, I believe this is where you've buried Emilia, right?"

He side-eyed me and hummed a bit.

Something seemed off, for some reason. Was it his mannerisms that were sending alarm bells to my brain?

"Chris told me you don't go there that often."

"Mhm."

"Too bad we don't have enough time, we could've paid her a visit." I pressed further, but he just shrugged.

Something about his indifference made my mind uneasy.

"I love that you buried her next to that large chestnut tree. It's really beautiful."

"Thanks."

I froze.

Jeongin buried her alone.

He never comes to her grave.

But still, he loved her as much as Chris.

Something doesn't add up.

Why doesn't he remember what the place he buried her looks like?

"Except there's no tree." I whispered and looked at him uneasy, and he gulped.

"It's been a long time since I've been there." He replied quietly.

Still, it didn't add up. You don't forget shit like this, especially since it's a defining event that builds you as a person. Burying the one you love is traumatising enough to make you remember every fucking small detail.

He kept silent the rest of the ride and I was deep in thought, trying to make sense of the newly found information. Jeongin was behaving too weird, and maybe other people wouldn't have noticed, but I spent many years observing mannerisms, and I couldn't help but notice the way he leaned back in his seat and the strength with which he held the wheel. Also, he kept tapping his index finger on the wheel and he seemed tense. Actually, he seemed like he tried not to seem tense.

Jeongin loved Emilia.

He was the last person to see her alive, and he buried her on his own.

He never comes to her grave. Moreover, he doesn't remember what that place even looks like.

And then, the penny dropped, my mind suddenly becoming clearer.

He never comes to her grave

Because she's not there.

Jeongin pulled into the airport's parking lot and took off his safety belt, and as he was preparing to get out of the car, I decided to speak up.

"She's not dead, is she?"

He stayed silent.

My breath became ragged.

"You never buried her. It's an empty grave." It felt like the start of a manic episode, and I wanted nothing more than to drive back to her grave and start digging, to check myself if there really isn't anything buried in there.

He looked at me sharply, his brows furrowed.

"What makes you say that?"

"Jeongin, don't play dumb."

He started trembling slightly, but tried to keep his composure.

"That's why I didn't want to speak to you... fuck."

He cursed, and I stood silent, watching him. When his eyes met mine, he let out another curse, then spoke.

"I dug a grave for her..."

"But she's not dead."

"I don't know..."

"Jeongin-"

"Chris can't know about this. He can't. I promised her-"

"He won't. But I need you to walk me through what happened. What really happened."

Jeongin shook his head and closed his eyes. It was obvious that this was hard on him as well.

"I-" Just as he started to talk, a knock on our window interrupted us. Minho grinned happily and opened my door, cupping my cheeks and pecking my lips.

Fucking timing.

"How's my favourite girl doing? Ready to go to Italy?"

"... yes, I'm ready." I replied, reluctant to get out of the car. Still, I got out and retrieved the two suitcases from the trunk, and Minho and I started walking towards the entrance.

I threw Jeongin one last glance, and he nodded briefly to signal goodbye. I cursed in my head more than ever, because I had Jeongin, and I would've found out every last piece of this mystery if Minho hadn't come at that exact same time.

We went inside the airport and passed through security check, and we hopped on a plane one hour later. Minho slept the whole flight, getting back his missed night's rest while he was away to figure out how the shipment to Italy was going to happen, and I was deep in my thoughts, knowing that Jeongin's secret had the power to either drive Chan crazy, or turn him completely mad.

I wasn't sure what to do with this newfound information. Actually, I wasn't sure if I should do anything at all, or just keep silent and pretend I've never learnt of this horrible misfortune. The only thing that was certain, though, was that I needed to tell Minho as soon as possible, because this shouldn't be my burden to bear alone, and then we'd figure out what to do, together.

~

~6 days later~

~third person POV~

"Honey, I'm home~" Minho sang while opening the door to Iris' and his holiday home. It was a small cottage on the outskirts of the town; it had a beautiful garden full of flowers, signalling an early beginning of spring.

The temperature wasn't too bad either. Quite warm, Iris would say, as she basked under the sun's warm rays, smelling the sweet fragrance of lilies and daffodils. Except she couldn't exactly enjoy it because she's been worried sick.

"You're home? Minho, is that seriously what you're telling me after almost making me have a heart attack?! I thought something happened to you!"

"Well, nothing happened! I'm here in one piece! See? Both legs, both arms, 20 fingers, all teeth!" He showed Iris each body part, chuckling a bit at his lover's worried expression.

"Minho!"

"Aww, not even married yet and she's already nagging me!" He joked again, pinching Iris' cheek, but the girl wouldn't budge. She was already wary of being left at home to wait for him while he goes alone to finish up the trade, and after waiting for him for a few days, agonising about what he could be doing or where he's at, this indifferent attitude of his really pissed her off. He noticed it as well, so he quickly changed his stance, and tried to emphasise again that he's well and nothing happened. "Come on, doll, I'm truly fine. Don't you think I'm even more handsome now that you haven't seen my face in 6 days?"

"That's not funny." She furrowed her brows. "You said you'll be gone for a day. It's been 6. I thought you were dead."

"Iris... look, it took a bit longer than expected because one of our-"

"-shipments got caught at customs." She cut him off. "Yea, I know. Chris told me, after I called him 100 times to see if he knew anything."

"Woah, straight to the boss, I see!" He gasped. "I'm truly sorry for worrying you, I didn't mean to. My phone died and I forgot to bring the external charger. Amateur mistake."

"Did no one have a fucking charger over there?"

"We were in an old mill. No electricity whatsoever, and no one was allowed to leave until the issue's been sorted out."

Iris stood silent, so Minho wrapped his arms around her, trying to comfort her. It was obvious she was still quite upset, but she was also relieved to see him alive.

"You can't die before we get married." She whispered, and he chuckled.

"Can I die after, then?"

"No. You can't. You're forced to grow old with me, to get wrinkles and become ugly."

"I will never become ugly." He retorted.

"And I will never become a young widow. And you are never going alone again."

"Okay love. I'm sorry." He put his hands on her face and pecked her nose. "Shall we go get married, then?"

Minho grabbed Iris' hand and took her to the garden, collecting a couple of flowers and improvising a bouquet. Then, he took her to a small arch made of green leaves and branches in the cottage garden where three people were patiently waiting for them.

"A priest?" She whispered, shocked. Neither of them was religious, but Minho wanted to do this by the book; he talked to the town's priest and even hired two random people to be their witnesses. "When did you even arrange this?"

"Surprise!" He chuckled. "We're doing this right. Except for the giving away part, because I'm not letting a random stranger give you away to me." He muttered quickly, and they both walked to the arch, holding hands.

The priest then began the short ceremony, and Iris could barely hold in her laughter, because everything was in damn Italian, which she couldn't speak at all. Sure, she knew her "Ciao"sand "Grazie"s, but other than that, she could only guess what the dude dressed in white was talking about.

When the moment came for them to say their "I do's and kiss, both felt the happiest in the world.

~

"I'm freaking starving. Maybe we should head to the town and grab a bite." Minho spoke, cuddled up to the crook of his now-wife's neck.

"No mood for cooking today?" She chuckled and gently petted his hair.

"No, I wanna rest up a bit." 

"So let's go get lunch, hm?"

They slowly got dressed and decided to walk until the centre of the town and enjoy the sun for a bit more until they had to go back. They had a few days of paradise left, but Minho still had to go back home and give Chris all the important documents and intel regarding the trade, and other possible expansion plans throughout Europe. Iris also wanted to get to work, to prove herself somehow that she could truly be part of Stray Kids, not just as Minho's wife, but also as a valuable asset. This didn't mean that she wouldn't wish she had more time on her honeymoon with Minho.

They sat down outside at a small metal table in front of a little restaurant, one of the few in town, and sipped on a hot coffee while waiting for their meal to arrive.

~Iris' POV~

It was truly relaxing to just sit like this and watch the people in this town go by with their daily lives. Some people were sitting around tables, just like Minho and I, drinking lemonades and smiling ear to ear, or laughing while sharing stories; other people were hurrying to work (or so I assumed), others were already working, like the server who just brought us two drinks we decided to get as desserts.

The street itself was pretty. Despite this being a small town, people were very civilised; there was no trash on the ground, the antique buildings were taken care of well, and the centre had it all: a few restaurants, a flower shop, a bookstore, a souvenir shop and a mini market. Nothing was missing.

"Oh?" I tilted my head after noticing a little girl running out of the flower shop.

"What is it?" Minho smiled.

"That little girl there is soooooo cute!" I exclaimed and squirmed with happiness. "Her hair is so pretty and curly! Don't you think so?" I asked, and Minho turned around briefly to see the girl I was pointing to.

"Oh my, yes, she's so cute! Should we go back to our house and make one?"

"Minho!" I playfully slapped his arm.

"What?!"

"Do you think it's okay for her to be alone like that on the street?" I frowned. "Oh, nevermind, her mother is apparently getting her back."

After saying this, I diverted my attention to the paper straw in the lemonade, while Minho turned around to watch the scene unfold.

Damn, I fucking hate paper straws.

"Iris." Minho said, and I raised my gaze to notice he seemed distressed all of a sudden.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked, my heart starting to beat out of my chest.

"... can you please go to that flower shop and get yourself a bouquet of whatever flowers they have?" He asked in a breath, and I didn't understand what got him so agitated. Still, I nodded unsurely and grabbed the money he handed to me and made my way to the flower shop.

~

"Ciao!" The woman at the register spoke cheerfully.

"Hello." I replied and smiled.

"Oh, a foreigner." The woman laughed.

She seemed around my age, and was wearing a long, black fitted dress and a bright red lipstick. She was beautiful, and oddly familiar. It felt like I saw her somewhere before, but I wasn't entirely sure...

"Yes, you as well?" I laughed back, when her daughter made her way towards me, her soft curls bouncing up and down with each of her little steps. "Oh my, you have such an adorable daughter!"

"Thank you, she's almost 3, and a menace!"

"Is that so? Are you making mommy upset?" I pinched her cheeks, and she chuckled.

"So, would you like to buy some flowers?"

"Oh, yes, I'd like a-"

"-bouquet of white lilies, please." Minho's voice came from behind me, cutting me off.

"Minho?" I turned my head around, and everything happened in a flash: the woman ran towards her daughter and grabbed her from me, and Minho reacted immediately as well, trying to get between me and her.

I don't know who was faster, but the next thing I remember is feeling a powerful blow to the back of my head.

~

Ugh... this hurts...

I slowly tried to open my eyes, but the pounding headache in my head was making it hard to.

"... and that's how I ended up here." A voice I didn't recognise spoke.

Ah... it's probably the woman...

"Fucking hell..." Minho replied.

"I hope you understand why I can't come back with you, Minho. I'm sorry."

What's going on...?

"No, Emilia, I'm the one who's sorry. I know you probably hate Chris. Hell, you probably hate me, and everyone else, but-"

"Yes, you're right. I fucking loathe all of you."

"Some tea?" A man whose voice I also couldn't recognise asked.

"What, are you some sort of fucking housewife?" The woman spat.

"You and that rotten mouth of yours. What if Ivy hears you?"

I finally managed to sit up straight, massaging the back of my head with my hand.

"Iris, you're awake!" Minho sat up from his chair and ran up to me. I glanced around the room and saw the woman sitting at a round table and sipping tea. Her back was straight, her red lips stained the coffee cup, and her dress reached her ankles still. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine... my head hurts a bit... what happened?"

"Emilia hit you." He sighed.

"Sorry 'bout that!" Emilia chuckled slightly.

"Wait, Emilia, as in-"

"Chan's lover." Minho clarified, and my eyes grew wide. I couldn't believe it.

I already knew she was still alive, but what were the chances of us bumping into her in a random small town in Italy?

"Am I that popular?" She chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Minho's wife."

"I have a name." I stood up and headed to her, handing my hand out for a shake. "Iris."

Emilia's gaze was so sharp, I was afraid it would cut, and the darkness in her eyes was so deep, it was hard to read her.

"Emilia, but oh well, you know that already."

"I do. So, this is where you were hiding." I glanced around the room again; simple décor, and a few photographs of her daughter – Ivy? – on display.

Minho looked at me with confusion, and Emilia's smile dropped from her lips.

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly.

"I mean – I was really wondering where you were, after I found out that the pretty grave Jeongin dug for you is empty."

The room grew silent.

"Iris... what are you talking about?" Minho asked, as if hoping he heard me wrong. "Did you... know about this?"

I sighed.

"I found out the day we left to Italy and was planning to tell you about this as soon as our honeymoon was over-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He grabbed my arm, seething with rage. "Fuck the honeymoon,"

Ouch

"this is the type of shit you should be telling me about immediately."

"Did Jeongin tell you?" Emilia stood up and asked in a whisper, as if she could no longer breathe. "Does... does Chris also know?"

"No." I shook my head, and Minho's hand away; his grip was starting to hurt. "He's kept your secret, no matter how much it fucked him up. How could you force that kid to grow up like that? Do you know how distressed he's been?"

"Don't you dare judge me for it." She spat. "It was a life and death decision for me, and you would've done the same thing given the circumstances."

I looked back at Minho, who was still angry at me – I could see it on his face. Still, he grabbed my hand, gently this time, and brought it up to his lips, kissing it. He mouthed an "I'm sorry", and I nodded.

"Chris can't know about this." She started shaking her head left and right erratically. "He can't. I can't see him. I don't want to-"

"Emilia, calm down." The younger man who brought the tea put his hands on her shoulders, making her sit back down.

"How the fuck can I be calm, Wooyoung?!" She raised her voice and looked at me and Minho, venom in her eyes. "If Chan finds out-"

"He'll come find you." I finished her sentence.

"No. He can't. Minho, please-"

Minho squeezed my hand and looked at me. I knew what he wanted to do. I knew it wasn't right, and that we shouldn't do this. But Minho's priority was his Mafia's well-being, and my priority was Minho, so I couldn't care less about anyone else, no matter how empathetic I could get.

"I'm sorry, Emilia, but ever since you died, Chris has been a fucking mess..." Minho started. "You're the only one who can make him be... his old self."

"Fuck that. Fuck Chris. Fuck YOU!"

"You have to come back with us." I insisted and released Minho's hand, taking a cautious step towards Emilia.

"No. Not in a million years. I will never come back."

"You have his child." I continued insisting, and she burst out into a hysterical laugh.

"So what? Does he deserve a chance at parenting? Ivy baby, look, this is your daddy. He almost killed mommy and you, and he stepped on her heart repeatedly, but that's okay, because he feels bad about it!"

"I'm sorry, but it's just the way it will be." I looked at her with compassion. I knew it was unfair to her, but she needed to come back.

No, she wouldn't magically fix everything wrong within Chris. Who knows how he'll even react? But she still needed to come back.

Minho would never let her go anyway, now that he knows.

"Fuck your fake-ass compassion." She laughed again, and then I noticed she froze. "Are you seriously threatening me right now? After ruining everything for me?"

I turned around to see what she was talking about, and there was Minho, his gun raised and pointed directly towards Emilia. The other man – Wooyoung – started moving, moment when I took my gun out as well, forcing him to stay in place. I still didn't know how to use it properly, but they didn't need to know that.

"I can't believe you two." Emilia laughed again. "I invite you into my house to talk, and you dare threaten me. How fucking rude you two are. Truly a match made in heaven." She spat.

"I don't want to threaten you. We were the ones who were wrong. But if you don't come back willingly... You leave me no choice."

"So, shoot me, then! Fucking shoot me and end this already, Minho!" She shouted. "I'm not coming with you!"

"No..." He shook his head. "I won't take you with us if you don't want it, Emilia. I'm just saying that... if you won't come, we're gonna stay just like this while Iris goes to the other room and grabs your daughter. She's gonna take her to Chris and explain everything, and that's it."

"You wouldn't." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Try me."

"Fuck you."

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you!" She shouted harder.

"So, will you come with us?" Minho asked again. He phrased it as if she actually had a choice, which she didn't. It was like that saying: when you only have two choices, you have no choice at all.

"Wooyoung," she started, her voice trembling. "what in the world..."

"I think we have to go with them, Shade..."

"But..."

"Would you let them take Ivy?" Wooyoung whispered. He was distressed as well. It was too cruel, but sometimes you have to be the bad guy in someone else's life.

I was sure that's how Emilia perceived me and Minho.

We were unscrupulous villains who were here to break down everything she built, until nothing was left standing.

And unfortunately she was right.

~

~THE END OF PART ONE – THE BLACK IRIS~

~

PART TWO – THE WITHERED ROSE (coming soon)

---

(A/N) Hello!

We finally reached the end of The Black Iris and I'm so excited for this ending.

Emilia is back!

Part II is in the making right now, so we're going to have a bit of a hiatus unfortunately, but still, thank you for being patient with me and for reading until now!

What are your thoughts? What's going to happen from now on?

Does Chris have any chance to be forgiven?

I'm so excited to keep writing this story!

Thank you again!

Yours truly,

Storm

---

Chapter 7 | PART II - The Withered Rose

[dolphin1812]

I've been reading Hugo's The Last Day of a Condemned Man, and the edition that I have comes with a preface from 1832.

It's from before the June Rebellion (March), but it still feels quite ironic!

And Hugo's love of Louis-Philippe feels different here, too. The close relation may have played a role, just as it did in his other work, but when he writes this:

"Yet we admit that if ever a revolution appeared capable and worthy of abolishing the death penalty, it was the July Revolution. It really seemed to fall to the most humane popular movement of modern times to do away with the barbaric punishment of Louis XI, Richelieu and Robespierre, to stamp the inviolability of human life into the law's brow. 1830 deserved to break the blade of '93."

I actually don't view this purely cynically? He may have genuinely thought this at the time (especially since he was more conservative then than later in life, as is reflected in his greater skepticism of the French Revolution; he may have remained against the death penalty, but I feel like his portrayal of it here rings much more negatively than it does in Les Mis). I just think it's interesting to reflect on the difference between a Hugo who admired Louis-Philippe as a patron and who was watching his policies in the moment than a Hugo reflecting on the consequences of those policies, rejecting the institution that the man represented, and still praising the man himself.

At the same time, the expectation of greater conservatism made me forget that this is still a predecessor to Les Misérables in many ways, and his condemnation of "gentlemen" (Hugo's word) who only wanted to abolish the death penalty when it affects them -- not when it affects ordinary people, who suffer the most from it -- was a striking reminder of that. Hugo's class-related issues are present, too (he makes some strange comments about slang that I can see that digression growing out of, and while the narrator's education is important in establishing the possibility that he could have written all of this, he also links it to being "civilized"), but I think I expected it to be worse than it is? He also describes the suffering of families left behind after the death penalty takes the person they depend on, which reminded me a lot of Valjean's sister and her children. Interestingly, he also stresses the suffering of those executed who have no families, arguing that their status as orphans of society is equally tragic. It made me think of Gavroche and his lack of options if he had grown up because of his marginalization, but it was also just moving to read on its own, particularly since it argued for caring for people beyond merely the strictures of the family.

It's fascinating to see how the narrator is and isn't like Valjean as well. On the one hand, he's extremely different in that he's our first-person narrator; we rarely get insight into Valjean's thoughts, instead seeing him through the eyes of others, but here, everything comes from this one man. At the same time, I do feel like Hugo's trying to find a way towards the "everyman?" I haven't finished, but so far, we don't know what the specific crime that brought this man to the scaffold is. We do know that he's leaving behind a mother, a wife, and a daughter, and that his daughter is his chief concern. With Valjean, we knew the details of his crime, but we also had time to delve into the different facets of his life that led to such a harsh sentence, and empathy for him on the basis of his "crime" was important in critiquing poverty. Here, we need to empathize with our narrator in spite of his crime, so keeping it vague is powerful. Whether he killed or robbed to support his family like Valjean did, it doesn't matter; what matters is his life.

(And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that there's a bread thief in the novel).

Justice is also terrifyingly routine. The judges who sentenced him care less that he will die and more that they stayed up late deliberating his case. As he's being transferred, the usher drops his snuff, and when the prisoner says that he's losing more than him (as he will die), the usher complains that he'll not have any snuff on the trip to Paris, not processing that the man he's speaking to is going to lose his life. It's insensitive, of course, but it also illustrates how desensitized everyone involved in this process is.

[swinging-through-the-stars]

Okay, Sith!Luke au sounds incredible!!! I haz questions

What's Din's whole perspective on things? Is he (like canon) blissfully unaware of who and what Luke is? Does he know and just not care? Is he just doing anything to protect Grogu, only to realize that the 'teacher' is very dangerous but has also imprinted on Din just as much as Din has fallen for him?

What about Grogu? Does he understand the darkness in Luke? Is he averse to it? Or does he go all in on the dark side to protect his dad?

OOOOHHH YES YES YES I'd LOVE to get into Din and Grogu stuff! (I'm realizing this will be another long one so there's your warning lol)

As for Din --

In my AU, after the Death Star blows up in 0 ABY, Luke begins to take personal undercover missions to continue undermining the Empire. To stay anonymous, he hires an untraceable mercenary that doesn't ask questions and is also not fond of the Empire - this is where Din Djarin comes in. (Din doesn't have a lot developed pre-Mando season 1 other than he's been bounty-hunting - and before that - taking mercenary jobs for a while, so why not utilize that for a story I want?) While working with Luke in this time period, Din has absolutely no idea who Luke is other than he carries a "red laser-sword" and doesn't show his face. He knows Luke as The Stranger, and for a few years takes jobs from Luke since he pays very well (that Empire money eh). Din is vaguely aware that his jobs have small impacts on the war against the Empire, so he is fine with complying, especially since they are relatively low-risk.

Things take a turn in 4 ABY when Luke hires Din to rescue Han Solo from Jabba's Palace. (one of the few pieces of fic I finished -- FREE SOLO) In this mission, Din sees Luke's face, learns his name (however doesn't recognize it from anywhere), and learns that he KNOWS specific people that a key to the rebellion (Lando, Han Solo, Leia, Chewbacca). The whole ordeal puts Din in more trouble than he bargains for. Luke declares an end to their business relationship because of this and cuts Din off, but it doesn't kill Din's festering curiosity as to who Luke is. He doesn't pursue further, but that curiosity lingers until they meet again.

Luke and Din meet again in a way that mirrors the end of Season 2 of Mando (because I thought it was a fun idea, and YES I have managed to write that out too -- SHADOW ON THE BRIDGE). This is where Din learns that Luke is not only a Sith, but the EMPEROR of the Neo Empire. I've been (ever so slowly) updating the fic of the aftermath of that, where Din meets with Luke again and where they begin to have those conversations of what will happen to Grogu.

In this next fic - First Steps into Darkness - I do want to explore how Din takes up the mantle of Mand'alor and how he uses his previous relationship with Luke to rebuild his world and also create an alliance to further push the Imperial Remnant threat out of the galaxy. Din deals with opinions about this from all sides, from Bo-Katan who has a difficult time trusting Luke, to Din's Clan that are between against and neutral on the matter. (Also keep in mind that I've been planning this part of the story before Mando S3 -- I do use some aspects of S3 but also very much divert from it).

What keeps Din coming back to Luke is ultimately his curiosity, both in Luke's abilities as a leader/negotiator and in him being this mysterious entity. Luke's fervor for his religion, his quest for familial answers, his internal battle of identity -- these are all things that Din relates to. (Luke's a bit more of a hot mess than Din is but -- you know, they have commonalities that they can lean on).

I also really like the concept of the Darksaber having its own sort of Force sentience to the point where Din has to work with it (it's a little like Haunted!Din but instead of outright possession it's more like -- Venom, or something like that, where they work together). Having Luke as a resource to navigate that territory further connects the two.

Needless to say, despite what rumors and warnings Din has been given, he doesn't understand why the "Dark Side" of the Force is considered the "bad" Force and why the "Light Side" is considered the "good". Perhaps it's because he's only really interacted with Luke, and perhaps it's because Mandalorians have a checkered history with getting along with "Light Side" Jedi users as well. His perspective could be biased or he probably just believes that Luke is not what others want to make him seem. Either way, the fact that Luke is a Sith doesn't necessarily make Din distrust him outright, especially since he's the only one that will agree to help hone Grogu's powers.

OKAY, ONTO GROGU -- YEAH THERE'S MORE --

Since's Luke's appearance in rescuing them from Gideon's Cruiser, Grogu is INTRIGUED with Luke and the pull to the Dark Side. In his little mind, Luke is powerful, really cool, and can make Gideon pee his pants -- of course he sees that and goes "ooh I wanna be like that guy".

First Steps into Darkness, while I mentioned will go into some of Din's story, will ultimately be a focus on Grogu (when I eventually finish it lol). I think child characters (especially cute bait like Grogu) often get the short end of the stick in terms of development, and it's SUCH a missed opportunity in my eyes. Children have very simple and blunt observations, and they SOAK up the world around them -- putting the mess of Sith Luke and through GROGU'S perspective is so fun to me.

Luke is not afraid of teaching Grogu, but he's afraid of Grogu idolizing him like HE did Vader. Despite Luke's attachment to his father, Vader was -- NOT really the best father, and deep down Luke knows that and is afraid. He keeps a distance from Grogu that Grogu is always trying to close. Grogu knows that Luke is just a teacher and that he's often not very personable with him. But Grogu sees how Luke's power has the ability to protect, he sees something in him like did with Din (who was also not very warm at first). Grogu believes that if he learns what Luke knows, he can too can become that protector that can stop wars and help those he cares about.

Grogu also continues to learn from Din about Mandalorian culture, so he isn't completely split between one or the other -- in fact, Luke encourages Din to keep sharing his roots with his son. The teachings of both Mandalorians and Sith are eventually the teachings that shape Grogu's perspective on loyalty, emotions, power, and so on. He's observant as hell, so he soaks everything up like a SPONGE.

And let's be honest, the Grogu realizing he could learn some tricks that maybe the Jedi forbade sounds a bit fun to him. He is still a kid after all.

Sorrynotsorry that was long -- I love talking about these concepts, and honestly answering these questions is helping me type out my thoughts to use as reference later. It's getting me fired up to keep writing and editing too.

Thank you again for the questions @just-prime -- I hope you found this interesting!!

[hauntedwizardmoment]

HELLO, this is your open invitation to talk about any song choices or parallels on your jace-and-jaceclones playlist collection that you wish to elaborate upon, bc I've been listening to them all weekend and I'm absolutely obsessed. Incredible music selections and I'm possessed with emotions now; thank you for your work 🫡

OH MY GOD YES okay so i think i'll start with just like. the general comment that i used songs from a lot of the same artists on them because i wanted them to feel/sound similar but also have distinct vibes - i think a different mcr song appears on each one, there's jack off jill on three of them, etc.

buuuuuuut they also all have at least one pick that's wildly different that i kind of think as the standout/signature song. i wanted to represent that theyre all Of the same guy (jaceprime) but theyre different facets of him: devotion, hedonism, rage. also because i'm insane they do have an order to them and there's an arc within each one

ETA after i finished writing all of this: jesus fuck it got long i'm so sorry i'm insane

i'll go in the order that i finished them in:

for j2 (the acolyte), the vibe is probably the Most distinct from the other three, since his starts out so happy and optimistic; all the small things! baby you're a haunted house! look at these lyrics!!

theyre love songs!! ringtone, too, that's the one i think of as j2s signature song, since it's in a wildly different genre. ringtone is also where the playlist kind starts to get an inkling of despair and tragedy, too

spellbound + heaven, iowa + closer kind of make up a weird trilogy in my head of "j2's thoughts when he and porter are alone together" since it's like, feeling an inexorable pull towards him, feeling so so so weak for him, and of course: religious devotion mixed with intense horniness.

i feel the need to justify the "closer" pick for j2 and not j3, i did go back and forth on it but honestly it's like... j3 doesnt worship the same way j2 does. j2's the acolyte, not the whore. thats also why tourniquet, shame, and all again for you are on here.

lastly for j2: drowning lessons is the unofficial j2porter vegas wedding song to me. the imagery of it is so evocative. look at this.

for j3 (the whore), obviously the vibe is like, getting railed within an inch of your life. but i also wanted songs that conveyed a sense of desperation + misery and self hatred. because j3 has issues and problems.

give 'em hell kid + celebrity skin + ponyboy are like. the Fuck Me trio. j3 wants you to want him, he looks good, he knows he looks good, what are you gonna do about it? he's got a half-life of his own and he's gonna spend it with the hottest people he can.

straight to video, joyriding, and everybody's fool are what i was talking about re. desperation, misery, and self-hatred. he's never been fulfilled or felt like he has a purpose the same way j2 does. he doesnt like looking in the mirror longer than it takes to put on his makeup.

violent pornography + eat me alive are like, two sides of the same coin in my head. more Fuck Me vibes but like, this time with a definite sense of danger and obsession. obligatory choking mention. obligatory erotic cannibalism mention. these things are basically part of the starbreaker bible atp.

and for j3's signature song: living dead girl by rob zombie. he IS the living dead girl to me!! he's jace post-resurrection, trying to fill up the new void inside him with anything, be it pleasures of the flesh or just straight up flesh. he's back from the dead and he's gonna make it your problem. unlike j2's born sexy yesterday he's more like. resurrected sexy (and evil) last night.

for j4 (the devil): the main thing here was like. rebellion. going against the narrative that's trying to draw her in. she's gonna escape the cycle or die trying.

i think my favorite pulls for this were playing god, losing his touch, and going under, which in my mind made up like a trio of being fed the fuck up with someone and walking out for good. there are also a couple songs on here like dead throne and IAGTKTPOTUSOA (cant type out the song name now jic the fbi is watching) where i was like... j4 would listen to these while she's mad. she deserves to have her metal and harsh noise moment.

ofc j4 is still Of Jace so i had to include i hate everything about you, whore, and noise and kisses because unfortunately he's still attracted to porter. why is whore on here but adrenalize was on j3 (the whore)'s playlist? well. whore is WAY more of a Fuck You than adrenalize.

and j4's signature song is ofc ptolemaea. no matter how hard she fights back and how close she gets to escaping, she always ends up back at porter's side. it's inevitable.

aaaaaaaaand lastly for jace's playlist (the one): i think everyone's already noticed that half of this playlist is where the titles for my fics come from but i did want to say that explicitly.

jaceprime's playlist is very much about devotion even when it hurts. giving up parts of yourself to make someone else love you. being doomed. not being understood even by the person who knows you inside and out.

its also like. sleepless nights and waking up disoriented and unsure of who you are. feeling crushed and abandoned but too proud to do anything about it. brain stew, i slept with someone in fall out boy, and broken bones are very that.

i did include drowning lessons on this one again, i think it's the only repeat i have, and i didnt want to but man it's what i listened to while i was writing jace getting strangled to death in his marital bed so i HAD to. i also think it fits because j2 and jace are funhouse mirrors of each other and it's fun to think about how they're both interpreting the lyrics in very different ways.

for jace's signature song, it's dig up her bones. he got brought back wrong in service of an evil plan! it doesnt matter what came before, who he used to be! that jace died and now this one's here to stay. it's similar to j3 on purpose, but j3's more jennifer check while jaceprime is more bride of frankenstein.

lastly, white crosses is kind of the bookend to this whole deal because of the i'll make my way back home to you chorus. that's very starbreaker to me. at the end of the day, theyre each others' homes. theyre all they have left, even if they hate it.

[miqojak]

About Me/People I'd Like to Know Better

Last song: Really, I've been listening to a lot of Fallout songs, I don't know that there's a 'last one' because even out of game, I've got Fallout playlists on! But Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall has been stuck in my head, in particular, as well as Mighty Mighty Man. I love jazz, though - swing always makes me want to get up and move! So...Fallout music really hits a sweet spot for me.

Favorite color: Green! Most shades of it, though I have a fondness for lime green!

Currently reading: Not actively reading at present, I stopped in the middle of one of the Padme Amidala books a bit back, though - and I was loving reading about her pre-movies! It really puts into perspective what a badass she was, and why she was never a damsel in distress. She had a squad of highly trained assassin hand-maids around her and a contingency for everything, PLUS she was a woman of the people! Her books have made her one of my top favorite characters in the whole of the Star Wars universe - I'd have loved to see what she would have accomplished in the rebellion!

Currently watching: I just finished the new Fallout show, and I'm planning on catching up on Bad Batch here soon.

Sweet/savoury/spicy?: I have a notorious sweet tooth, but I'm also a huge fan of spicy - but as you get older, your body HATES spicy stuff...so enjoy it while you can!

Relationship status: Living with a platonic partner of 10 years

Last thing you googled: An image editor! I was trying to make the mayqo'te prompt list look more pretty than...just a list of words on a tumblr post.

Current obsession: Fallout 76 and SWTOR! After furiously charging through the whole SWTOR MSQ, I'm really swept up in a galaxy far, far away and how good the writing is and how much I love the branching choices that matter, and are remembered in the MSQ! (Plus there's free character housing on the 'battlepass' this time around, and it's one of the best ones yet...) Fallout 76 is free until May 15th, with Amazon Prime...so I picked up a code on the 76 Reddit and I have been LOVING it! The players are super nice, and it's just...fun? Making guns, armor, wandering the wasteland...building a joint house + roadside convenience store out in the world wherever I want! It has really sucked me in. @ungrateful-cyborg and @briar-ffxiv tagged me in very similar things, so I combined them, since only about 2 things were different!

I dunno who hasn't done it, so I'll toss a few names out that are in my notifs - do it if you want, and forgive me if you've been tagged already!! @wpip-raham @xmimiteh @uldahstreetrat @illia-ast @why-raven @littlestcreampuff @hares-and-hounds @cosmicharm @dragonsongmakhali @thedawnforged @starforger @selnyam @madalyn-maeve