#Smile of a Dreamer Event

[animeweeb115]

[atlas-of-galaxies]

won't you tell us what took away that smile of yours?

[pjsk-story-summaries]

Smile of a Dreamer Event Story Summary

TL;DR: Emu learns of her brother's plan to tear down old Phoenix Wonderland attractions in favor of new ones. Though she tries to object, she keeps getting shut down. Rin and Len notice her with a troubled expression, but she quickly forces a smile and runs off. She doesn't want to burden everyone with her worries with the show contest so soon.

While leaving a planning session one evening, Tsukasa, Nene, and Rui overhear shouting in the park. There, they find Emu arguing with her brothers. Rui ultimately tells them off. Though they try, Emu still refuses to tell them what's wrong.

Rin and Len find Emu in SEKAI later fighting back her sadness. They tell her it's ok to be sad, and that her friends truly do want to help.

The next day, Emu follows one of Rui's drones over to the ferris wheel, where Tsukasa takes them all up. He points out the Wonder Stage to Emu, which, with all their new visitors, no longer looks so lonely. They want to make everyone smile, and that includes Emu. She breaks down crying and tells them everything.

Though the situation is difficult, none of them want to give up on the park and Emu's dreams. Rui gets an idea for what they could possibly do to save it.

Fan translation (Caramel Subs and Arvon Oven) / Official English YouTube Upload / Song (Once Upon a Dream) 2DMV

Chapter 1: Emu wants to keep practicing even after rehearsal. They all want their next contest show to beat even the Phoenix Stage's. Kigurumi comes over to tell Emu her brothers will be arriving home early. The rest of Wonderlands x Showtime are surprised to learn she even has siblings, and that her brothers run Phoenix Wonderland. Tsukasa offers to let her go home early to see them.

All the Otori siblings and their father have dinner together for the first time in a while. The brothers start discussing the new rides they're planning on adding, since the park is starting to lose visitors. The show contest was only a temporary solution. Emu's upset, since her grandpa said shows weren't about winning or losing, and asks if there's anything else they can do to attract more visitors. All her ideas are shut down. Still, she doesn't want to give up.

Chapter 2: The next morning, Emu overhears her brothers discussing removing some old attractions. She runs in to interject, but is shut down again. Keisuke explains that Riley Entertainment, an overseas entertainment group, will be coming to inspect the park soon hopefully to strike a deal to use their characters to attract visitors, replacing Phenny. Keisuke tries reassuring Emu that the Wonder Stage will be safe, but Emu's still worried. She wants Phoenix Wonderland to be a place where everyone can smile, and that the memories held there should be protected, not destroyed. Though they understand why Emu's upset, this is the business decision they have to make.

Wonderlands x Showtime meets in the SEKAI to discuss their next show. Rui and Tsukasa brought many books for source material. While they debate ideas, Emu sneaks out. Rin and Len find her frowning, but she quickly forces a smile and runs back to the main group.

Chapter 3: The next day, Wonderlands x Showtime head back to SEKAI to continue planning minus Emu, who had to stay back for family reasons. They keep running into dead ends and unable to compromise. Rin and Len pop in to say hi, accidentally revealing Emu's troubled look from the day before. They're worried now something serious happened.

While leaving the park, Tsukasa, Nene, and Rui hear someone angrily yelling and decide to investigate. They find Emu arguing with her brothers over trying to change the park. When Shosuke insults their stage, Tsukasa tries to defend it, only to be stopped by Rui's warning. Shosuke continues rambling about how following Emu will only lead to ruin, since her head is permanently stuck in the clouds. Rui sharply tells him that it's a shame Shosuke's given up on his dreams; luckily, Emu's mastered that art, so he should stop with the insults. Keisuke and Shosuke leave.

Chapter 4: The troupe asks why she was fighting with her brothers, but not wanting to worry her friends, Emu brushes it off. She runs away before they can press further.

Back home, Hinata comes into Emu's room to chat. She doesn't think grandpa would be sad, since Emu already managed to save the Wonder Stage. She doesn't want Emu to give up on this, either.

Chapter 5: Tsukasa, Nene, and Rui are worried for Emu. They want to help her, but don't know how if she won't even tell them what's wrong. She tends to clam up when issues are big. Nene remember back to their Christmas show, when Emu started asking her about the past to help her open up. She tells Nenerobo about her concerns, who, despite her wishes, replays that message directly to Emu.

Chapter 6: Tsukasa, Nene, and Rui continue their discussion in SEKAI. Emu pretends to get props while trying to fight back her worries. Rin and Len find her and try to cheer her up. Though Emu points out she's smiling, they can tell it's forced. Len reassures her that it's ok to be sad, and that her friends can only help if she lets them.

The next day, Emu waits for the others at the park. Suddenly, one of Rui's drones appears and asks her to follow it. She ends up at the ferris wheel, where Nene, Rui, and Tsukasa are waiting.

Chapter 7: Tsukasa takes them all up on the ferris wheel. Emu looks around the park, but is saddened by all the attractions that will eventually get torn up. Tsukasa asks her to look at the Wonder Stage. Now, with people walking around, it doesn't look nearly as lonely as before. Thanks to Wonderlands x Showtime, so many people were to smile. If it's them, there's nothing they can't do. Tsukasa asks again if Emu would let them help her. They all want to see her smile too.

The day grandpa died, Emu promised she would never cry again. Yet, she can't hold back her tears for them.

Chapter 8: The group reviews what Emu told them. She apologizes for not mentioning it sooner. They thank her for telling them anyways. Without her, none of them would be there in the first place.

The group tries to come up with some ideas, but fall short. Overall, Emu's brother's plan makes financial sense. Still, they won't give up. Tsukasa's speech inspires Rui to come up with an idea: a show that nobody has ever seen before.

Emu's grateful for all her friend's help. She can't help but smile after telling them. Tsukasa leads them all to the stage and calls for a unifying "Wonderhoy!", but is beaten to the punch by Emu.

[adhdtsukasa]

i've made a new year resolution to finally read a pjsk event every day and i started from rereading wandasho stories so it's time for me to revisit the first ever proseka event i've read ^_^ it's gonna be so fun ^_^ no crying whatsoever ^_^

[sakitenmaenjoyer]

trying to plan future pulls is agony bc there's no shot im gonna have enough crystals for all of this. also i'll have to skip a lot of banners i love :(((

[toestalucia]

i know ive talked about this a lot on akira but idk how much ive brought it up here ?! the struggles of talking about all my muses across all my blogs (will not change). but ive been thinking about it again, because akira 1) talks more than gran does 2) is more likely to actually speak up about their/your feelings. not to say gran wont address it, but theyll either be very short about it or show it through actions. motivational speeches is reserved for moments when its expected of them (captain stuff in main story, shieldsworn, etc) <-guy who actually does not like being the center of attention

there are times when they get better at it, depending on situation & ppl involved (vyrn&lyria has special rights, even tho there are times when they dont get to know either (no rain no rainbow....)), as the grandcypher & things theyve been through has them learning to rely on others a lot more. in general theyre rly thankful to have lyria around at most times cuz of how easily she feels for others (as someone who gained the life back in her eyes thanks to katalina!), cuz while theyre very often of the same feelings as her, shes a lot quicker at voicing it.

not very related but, gran, as someone who does know how to fight, is instead a lot quicker at stepping in front of others. ofc akira isnt, theyre Normal (even tho theyre always shown doing exactly that anyway if the situation calls for it/the time they ignore a death threat towards them in order to relay important information), but im mentioning it cuz i think a loooooooot about the times theyve jumped off islands/cliffs just to save ppl (alliah, at least 2 times in grimnirs fate eps alone, bnha..........). also constantly think about the yurius event when yurius goes to sacrifice himself and captain & albert are just wtfffff get OUT of there COME BACK HERE and refusing to leave him. caims 5* uncap........ i truly do think a lot about that moment in paradoxroid where no one goes after owen and akira decides to do it themself likeeee.......and akira who stood in front of owens body to protect him from a unicorn,,,,,,(gesture vaugely) something about the things the varied experience about the things they have in common

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. I

When Rhaenyra followed Jacaerys' suggestion of sending her three eldest children as messengers to call upon bannermen for their queen, Daenys did not expect to be sent to the North.

Perhaps the Eyrie, to treat with Lady Jeyne Arryn, as the widow might have seen a princess coming personally to see her as a sign of great respect. Instead, Jacaerys was being sent to the Vale, and Daenys to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark.

Daenys, although a Targaryen-Velayron princess, had never been gifted in politicking. Never sitting on council meetings as a cup-bearer, never paying much attention to her septas lessons, nor promenading with the court ladies during her time at the red keep. Her only company was her family, her five little brothers and parents. And, of course, her beloved dragon. Rhaenyra liked to jest of how Daenys was perhaps more dragon than girl, spending more time in Dragonstone's nesting caves than her own chambers.

When she was in the company of unfamilar people, she found her throat tightening and her eyes avoiding those of others. Most at court found this behavior to be rude, and indifferent, often ignoring her in favour of more approachable ladies.

Her time in the red keep, though now more of a distant memory, was spent in her chambers or with her dear aunt Helena, who was quite similar to her in most ways, besides the bug collection kept on her desk. Daenys shuttered at the sight every time but tolerated it in favor of spending time with Helena.

It was not always like this. Daenys was born a bright and charismatic young girl, charming the Keep's lords and ladies with her chatty demeanor. Rhaenyra lovingly named her after her ancestor, Daenys the Dreamer, in hopes of her to be blessed and beautiful as she was. Daenys had only one dream to be accounted for, the Doom of Valyria. After saving the Targaryen dynasty, it seemed to be a one-time event.

Daenys, unlike her ancestor, deemed herself cursed instead of blessed. Her dreams started to occur after her fifth nameday, waking up the Keep every night with blood-curdling screams of terror. Every night, guards would come in searching for a threat, only to find the little girl locked in a dead-sleep, thrashing and screeching.

Eventually the intensity of the dreams stopped, to the relief of Rhaenyra and Daenys both. Her dreams still haunted her day and night, but she was no longer waking the keep as she experienced them.

The Queen, Alicent Hightower, looked down upon Daenys as if she was a curse embodied. She called the girl mad, deeming it a fitting punishment for Rhaenyra for her adulterous behavior. Though the scorn was meant to spite Rhaenyra, the only one affected was Daenys.

Shunned by the other young ladies of court, whispered about by the young lords, Daenys found herself friendless and alone in the Red Keep, of all but Helena and her family.

After Joffrey's birth, Rhaenyra had decided she had enough of Alicent's ire and moved her family to Dragonstone. Daenys found it much more agreeable, no court to deal with, and the entire island all to her family alone.

Daenys never recovered from years of ostracizing, still quiet and seemingly rude to any guests of Dragonstone.

"Mother, surely Jacaerys would be a better fit for Lord Stark. I do not think he would be pleased to be sent a girl deemed mad by the queen over the heir to the Iron Throne," Daenys pleaded with Rhaenyra, while they waited for Jacaerys and Lucerys to come.

Rhaenyra, ever so regal in her father's former crown and fine deep-red dress, smiled down at her eldest daughter. Her eyes were still brimmed red with the recent loss of Visenya, though that never stopped her from performing her duty as Queen. "Lord Stark would be delighted to have a princess of the realm visit the north. Never mind what Alicent has said against you. You are gifted in ways only Targaryens will understand. You are my blessing, not my curse."

Daenys picked at the skin of her nails harshly, looking at the cobble she stood on and finding more interest in the damp stone. "I am not like you, mother."

"In what way, sweet girl?" Rhaenyra frowned, reaching to lift her daughter's chin gently, a nonverbal reminder.

Taking a breath in, "I am not so..perfect. You have a million things on your shoulders and never falter once. I..cannot even greet our guests appropriately. I can't do this. Please, let me stay here instead" Glossy-eyed, Daenys squeezed her mother's head with a plea.

Observing her daughter for a minute, Rhaenyra was silent a moment. "You were never meant to be like me. I was a reckless and perhaps foolish girl in my youth, always getting myself into trouble one way or another. You, my girl, are meant to be better. You always have been. It takes time, to learn and heal, there is only one way to do that."

"How can I learn to be like you?" Even the mere thought of it seemed like a dream, distant and unreachable.

"Practicing, tis all. It may seem like I am throwing you to the wolves now, but you can not get better without first trying. Locking yourself on this island has done you no favors, and for that I am sorry. You will see, that it is not so bad out in the world." Rhaenyra squeezed her daughter's hand back, kissing her forehead before stepping away as Jace and Luke finally came.

Holding a hand to the book of The Seven, the three princes and princess swore to only go as messengers for their queen, abhorring all violence.

Daenys said a swift goodbye to her younger brothers before she mounted Morningstar, who had been led to the perch alongside Vermax and Arrax. Fittingly, the dragons sizes corresponded with their ages, largest to smallest.

Morningstar had grown quite fast since her birth alongside Daenys' cradle, almost as big as Meleys now. Vermax and Arrax were smaller in comparison but no less loyal or fierce. The white scales and purple eyes of the dragoness perfectly matched Daenys. Purring at her rider's mount, Morningstar stretched her wings and waited for command.

With a last tight smile to her brothers, Daenys was off with Morninstar across the sea. The three dragons traveled together for almost an hour before splitting to their respective directions. Daenys silently prayed for the safe return of her dear brothers, knowing that they would be home even before she was done treating with the Starks.

◽️

The journey to the North was longer than she had anticipated, boredom and anticipation being her worst enemies. Or, perhaps that title belonged to the biting winds that nipped at her exposed face. Daenys cursed her lack of preparation, only bringing her house cloak for the flight. It was late summer, for the Seven's sake, why was it already so freezing?

To Daenys' surpirse, and also jealousy, Morningstar seemed to enjoy the cold. It was a harsh contract from Dragonstone's humid beaches, but the dragon seemed to have no problem adapting during their ride.

Finally, Winterfell's grey stone Keep was in view, larger than Daenys had anticipated and covered in blankets of pearly snow. Morningstar landing just outside of the gates, shaking off snow from her wings and grumbling at the guards who shakily approached the dismounted princees. It seemed even Northernmen were not brave enough to face a dragon.

Smiling at the sight of such a large man being so timid under the watchful violet eye of Morningstar, Daenys didn't move forward to give the man any peace of mind. Perhaps a little fear was good for rallying bannermen.

The man spoke now, northern accent different than any she had heard before. "State your name and buisness."

Eyeing the dragon at her side, Daenys almost sighed. How many female dragonriders of her age were there in Westeros? Perhaps there were some that she was made unaware of.

Sucking in a breath, and trying to keep her voice steady despite her shivers, Daenys answered. "I am Daenys Valeryon. Messenger to the rightful Queen Rhaenyra."

The guard paused a moment, glancing at his partner, who smartly chose to stay at the gate. There seemed to be a silent conversation happening before the other nodded to an unknown third party. The old gate creaked open, Daenys shifting awkwardly at the silence between the three of them. Why weren't they saying anything.

Finally, "Lord Stark will be with you shortly. You are welcome to warm your hands by the fire inside the keep." The guard said, bowing his head respectively towards the princess.

She nodded, for lack of words to say, thanking him quietly. She followed him into the walls of Winterfell, the stares of the commonfolk following her every step. The whispers started after, Daenys ducking her head and walking faster to attempt to avoid hearing them, but that made no difference when the guard stayed at his steady pace.

"Princess Daenys, 'e said?" A heavy womanly accent leaned into her friend.

"Aye. The mad one, I 'ear."

Daenys shuffled into the keep's dining hall, relieved to find it empty. The guard left fast, assuming his post once more. She took a seat by the hearth, allowing herself to warm up in peace. Curling up, in an unladylike fashion, Haze hoped Lord Stark would take his time. She needed to think about her words carefully and hopefully not stutter them out foolishly because she is still shivering like a dog.

The Gods must truly have it out for her, Daenys cursed, as the Lord himself strided into the room only minutes after she sat. Quickly, she stood to her feet, stumbling slightly at the vertigo hitting her head. "My Lord Cre-Stark." Daenys greeted, bowing her head shortly.

Lord Stark fixed his steel grey gaze on her, pinning her to her spot without so much as a touch. "My princess," he bowed his head, looking into her eyes all the while. His voice was husky with the Northern accent, which Daenys decided sounded best coming from his mouth. He folded his hands in front of himself as if trying to appear less imposing. Failing miserably, of course, with all those heavy furs, leathers, and the longsword strapped to his back. Did he carry that thing everywhere? Normally, lords carried swords at their belts, but longswords were too heavy for that. Daenys shuttered at the thought of such a burden.

"What do I owe the pleasure? Surely, the Queen's daughter does not simply wish to visit the forgotten houses of the North." Though his tone was straight and respectful, the words themselves were slightly bitter, knowing that royalty only visits houses when they need something.

Daenys looked down at her feet a moment, glancing between the floor and his eyes, which were intent on not leaving her own. Shifting, she found herelf lost for words and panicking at what response she should give him, knowing time was ticking by.

He was already upset by the burden of housing her, and knowing that her request was not a light one made her heart drop to her stomach. How does one simply ask for thousands of men to go to war?

Lord Stark hummed at her silence, politely looking to the fire instead of keeping that intense stare on her. "I apologize for my lack of hospitality, princess. I should've shown you to your chambers and allowed you to rest. Your journey was not easy, I'm sure."

Daenys looked up at him, surprised. Both glad to be rid of that intensity and sadden to not see the pretty color anymore, she felt her throat open again. "Of course, my lord. Thank you." The words came slowly, and much quieter than she intended.

As Cregan led her through the keep's halls, Daenya thought of how disappointing it might be to receive a fumbling girl instead of a regal princess. For the first time in over a hundred years, Targaryens visited the North. A shame it had to be her instead of Jace, who never lost his confidence even when being named a bastard.

Cregan stopped at a door, opening to reveal a comely guest chambers, a fire already running at the hearth for her. "I had the servents set up our best, for you. There are some furs in the wardrobe, I hope you'll find them appeasing. I'll see you at supper, princess?" He asked, looking down at her patiently.

From their close proximity in the doorway, Daenys could feel the warmth from him in waves. "I will be there." She told him, nodding shortly. With a charming smile finally adorning his stoic face, Cregan stark left the chambers with a polite bow of his head.

How could he be so kind to her, and patient? After watching that humiliating display she gave him, Daenys was confident he would sneer and send her away, as no lords ever had patience for her fumbling. It certainly didn't help her nerves that he was handsome, a quality not used to describe northmen.

Daenys had always heard of northmen as being fierce, savage warrior men, always loyal and dutiful, but never handsome and mannerly.

Handsome was a term to describe peacocking young southern knights, who have never experienced hardship besides an occasional tourney. It was not a term for scarred and weathered northerners.

Daenys wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad change from her expectations, but she decided not to dwell too much on it. Reaching her frosted window, she made out Morningstar's massivw white shape flying above the keep, most likely looking for a resting spot. She silently hoped that the dragon wouldn't take too much livestock and piss off local farmers.

Hours passed by fast, much to Daenys' misfortune. For hours she spun words around her mind, speaking in whispers to herself to practice what she might say to Cregan's questions. Startled by a maid entering her temporary chambers, Daenys stood from her seat. The woman, older than her mother, gave her a suspicious look. Daenys flushed, feeling her face grow hot in embarrassment at being caught mumbling. It was a nasty habit that didn't help the rumors surrounding her.

"Princess, supper is ready." The maid told her curtly, leaving the room even swifter than she came.

Daenys sighed, throwing a coat of white fur over her shoulders. The weight was heavy but comforting as she walked down the echoing halls of the Keep.

She entered the dining hall to see it dimly lit, the evenings in Winterfell becoming dark much faster than they did back home. "My lord," she greeted, earning a warm greeting back.

Cregan sat alone at the head of a table, reminding Daenys of his status. The Lord was made an orphan at three and ten, becoming lord of his house at six and ten. His brother had also passed years ago, leaving the lord family-less. She wondered how many times he had dined alone, not even being able to imagine such a fate for herself.

Daenys sat opposite him, only a few feet away from each other. For a few minutes, the only sounds were servants suffling about, pouring wine, ale, and serving plates.

"I picked out a sweet wine for you, princess. I know ale is not a preferred drink amonst royalty." Cregan started up, a light look in his eye as he glanced to her over his own cup of strong ale.

"Thank you, my lord. You needn't go out of your way for me, though. I am not picky." She said, voice quiet but loud enough for him to make out in the silent hall.

Cregan laughed, a graveling and husky one that made her stomach tingle with butterflies. "I wouldn't have expected a princess to be so humble. When I saw your dragon fly down, I was expecting a feast to be demanded, our finest accommodations presented for the princess' pleasure." He lifted his cup slightly to her. "You are quite different than what I pictured."

Her face felt hot again, a feeling she would apparently need to get used to during her stay here. She hid behind her chalice of wine, "I hope I do not disappoint my lord."

Shaking his head pointedly, he put his mug down. "That is precisely what I meant," his tone was amused, the bitterness from their first conversation long gone. "I suppose I was wrong about the Targaryens. I admit, I thought you would threaten me with your dragon and demand that I bend the knee, just as our ancestors did."

Daenys met his eye, placing her own cup down. "Do not mistake me for my family. You'll find our methods are quite different in terms of treating. My mother is the queen of the seven kingdoms. This includes your own. I do expect bent knees, and loyalty to our Queen." She stated. "I am merely a messenger this day, I am sworn to peace."

Despite the undertones of a threat in her words, Cregan was not offended or taken aback like she had expected from her sudden mood switch. Insulting her was one thing, but Daenys didn't tolerate disrespect to her family.

He only smiled, corners of his mouth pulling up in a way Daenys couldn't describe. Almost a proud look in his eye gleamed, staring her down once more as she met his line of sight perfectly. Even sitting down their height difference was apparent, him looking slightly down his nose at her.

"And if you weren't a messenger for Her Grace? Would you threaten me with your dragon?" Cregan pondered.

Daenys, fighting the urge to look away, shook her head slightly. "Not unless you gave me a reason to. Would you have sent me away if I came on horseback rather than dragonback?"

"Its an honor to host a princess, dragonrider or not." He said firmly, dark brown tresses falling slightly into his face from the half-up style he decided on. Distracted, Daenys glanced at the way the veins on his hand twitched as he tucked the strand behind his ear.

"I am glad to hear it. I am pleased to be able to visit the North, despite the somber circumstances that we face. It is quite beautiful here, I've never seen snow." Daenys changed the subject, earnestly complimenting his home.

"You've seen enough of it to last a lifetime now, I venture." Cregan dug into his stew, whilst Daenys simply stirred her own.

"I do not fare well in the cold, unlike Morningstar." She mused, smiling to herself.

The two fell into a silence once more, this time more comfortable and less tense. Daenys took small spoonfulls of her meal, not wanting to appear rude or wasteful, simply having little taste for eating in front of strangers. Eventually, Cregan finished his bowl, and she decided that was a good time to let herself set the utensils down.

"Is now a good time to ask your purpose here again, my princess?" He asked her tentatively, as if she would break with a louder tone of voice. Perhaps Cregan thought from their first meeting that she was in some way incapable of her duties, much to her chargin. She swallowed thickly, shifting in her seat.

Daenys pulled out a small scroll from her belt, handing it to him. "The official message from Her Grace.'

He scanned it quickly, a solemn look on his face as he did. Cregan breathed out through his nose, a less dramatic version of a sigh, rolling it up again and pocketing it. "I had heard of Aegon Targaryen usurping the Queen's throne after King Viserys' death–my condolences–but I had only expected a raven to come from the Queen. You've traveled quite a ways just to ask for men."

Daenys nodded, "We thought it more earnest to see our allied houses personally. Ravens are slower than dragons, and do not leave room for negotiations."

"How many is the Queen expecting from me?" He asked, straight to the point. In every way, Cregan Stark proved to be different from court lords.

Picking at her nails again, Daenys winced when she pulled on the skin too harsh, drawing specs of blood. Under the table, they were hidden from his view. If Rhaenyra saw her now, Daenys was she she would frown and shake her head. But she wasn't, Daenys was alone with the lord of Winterfell. "How many do you have available?" She avoided.

He breathed heavily again, and she bit her cheek guiltily. How could she come into someones home and demand that they fight a war they will see no benefit from? Daenys was suddenly very glad that she was not heir. Even being simply the princess wasn't fit for her.

"I will take some time to think of our numbers, and what I can offer Her Grace." He stood from his seat, making his way around the table to her, holding out a gloved hand.

Daenys took it hesitantly, her uncovered hand a stark contrast to the pure black of his glove. She saw him glance at her hand, the red not yet rubbed away. After standing, she folded them carefully in front of herself, hoping he didn't notice too much. "Thank you, my lord. The crown appreciates your consideration."

He nodded, brow furrowed but not questioning her directly. Cregan guided her to her guest chambers, leaving her at the door. "If you need anything, I'm just down the hall." He gestured towards a door near the end.

Daenys settled into her bed after changing into a shift provided by a maid, fur coat drapped over a chair near the hearth. The bed was cozy, a small thing but covered in more furs, soft and warm.

Daenys fell asleep quickly, mind on the man sleeping a few rooms over.

[shakespearesdaughters]

Movies To Watch In 2025

Black Swan (2010)

The White Crow (2018)

The Dancer (2017)

Mao's Last Dancer (2009)

Girl (2018)

Silk Stockings (1957)

Polina (2016)

Incendies 2010

Berthe Morisot (2012)

Summer in February (2013)

Helene (2020)

Modigliani (2004)

Camille Claudel, 1915 (2013)

Mona Lisa's Smile (2003)

Final Portrait (2017)

Edward Munch (1974)

Goya's Ghosts (2006)

Caravaggio 1986

Frida (2002)

Loving Vincent (2017)

Séraphine (2008)

Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003)

Renoir (2012)

The Eternity's Gate (2018)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

Call Me By Your Name (2017)

Kill Your Darlings (2013)

Little Women (2019)

Dead Poets Society (1989)

Good Will Hunting (1997)

Maurice (1987)

Before Sunset (2004)

School Ties (1992)

The Skulls (2000)

The Emperor's Club (2002)

Cracks (2009)

The Riot Club (2014)

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Doctor X (1932)

Never Let Me Go (2010)

Nocturama (2016)

Mr. Harrigan's Phone (2022)

The Holdovers (2023)

The Handmaiden (2016)

Rope (1948)

Cruel Intentions (1999)

A Beautiful Mind (2001)

Dorian Gray (2009)

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

The Imitation Game (2014)

The Theory of Everything (2014)

Tolkien (2019)

The Dreamers (2003)

Miller’s Girl (2005)

An Education (2009)

Jane Eyre (2011)

A Dangerous Method (2011)

Christopher and His Kind (2011)

Practical Magic (1998)

Knives Out (2019)

The Craft (1996)

Twilight (2008)

The Addams Family (1991)

Atonement (2007)

God's Own Country (2017)

Atlantis (2001)

Hugo (2011)

Stardust (2007)

A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004)

The Mummy (1999)

Rushmore (1998)

Wicked (Upcoming, no set release year yet)

Return to Oz (1985)

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

The Secret of NIMH (1982)

Crimson Peak (2015)

[yamumsyadadd]

different

Part of the Marquita universe. Others can be found here:

Marquita, mama and mami, accident

A/N: talks of homophobia, bullying. this was fun to write! If you have any more questions for Marquita or if I should make another universe let me know!

It was hard growing up with parents like Alexia Putellas and Jenni Hermoso. Both were incredibly talented footballers, attractive and smart, add Olga into the mix and it felt like you’d never reach the same level. 

Olga went to university, graduated top of her class and then went on to her masters, Alexia got a degree in business, and Jenni in economics. There were a lot of high expectations, in school, in football, in life in general. 

To be the daughter of two of spains best players in history, well it was back breaking work. Football was not a sport you enjoyed, at all. You weren’t horrible at it, but you weren’t at the same level as your parents or Tia’s. It was to be expected since you were only twelve. There was time to get better, to showcase your skills. Skills you didn’t have, nor did you really want. 

School wasn’t much better. You weren’t horrible but you were a dreamer, the teachers complained you were always off with the fairies but in honesty, you couldn’t care less. Maths was the only subject you cared about, you’d need it if you wanted to study engineering at university. 

The kids at school often picked on you for being that way, but you didn’t care that much. It was same with the football team. It was almost like the universe was conspiring against you. 

It was mid week, right before Christmas when you finally had enough. Your Mami was away for the UWCL game in Sweden, mama had just gone back to Mexico after spending her break with you. Olga’s work had died down a bit due to the holidays. 

Your relationship was still a bit strained since the accident but it was slowly repairing itself. 

“How do you do it?” You asked Olga as she closed her laptop for the night. 

“Do what?”

“Everything? Work in Madrid, Manuela’s, your relationship with Mami and your friends. It’s a lot to juggle.” 

“It is. It’s a bit easier now I’m in the routine but essentially my life is split in two. One half in Madrid, the other, more important half here, in Barcelona.” 

“You went to university, spent six years studying to do what? No offence but don’t you want more?” 

“In what way?”

“You have a degree in communications, you could be a journalist, a public relations person or I don’t know, in marketing but instead you work in social media?” 

“You don’t think I’m doing enough?” 

“Why social media Olga? Why not something more interesting, more meaningful?” 

“Why do your Mami and mama play football? Why do you? Because you all love it. Sure, I could be doing something else, stuck at a desk for nine hours a day, unhappy and bored. But by doing what I do, I get to travel the world with my clients, get introduced to people I’d never imagined meeting, help people became what they want.” 

You nodded your head, content with the answer, then stood up and packed up your homework, heading towards your room but not before turning to Olga, “I don’t love football. Not like Mami and mama. I am not like them and that’s okay.” You gave her a sad smile before turning out. 

“Mari-“ Olga started before hearing your door close. She let out a sigh, wondering where she went wrong this time. You had asked a question, slightly rudely, but she had answered. Given appropriate reasoning and yet, you seem sad about it all. It was truly baffling. 

Going to school the next day was hard. You were stuck in your head all day, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and cry alone. But that wouldn’t happen, not when it was this close to Christmas and it seemed that every other day there was a Christmas event to be attended. 

When Pedro Diaz continuously threw his rubber at you in Spanish class, you ignored him. When Maria Santiago called you a freak in gym class because you could run the 3km, you ignored her. But when Diego Cruz said your Mami and mama were going to hell, you lost it. 

You weren’t dumb, everyone around you had talked about what it was like for them being gay, the good, the bad, the ugly. You heard it all, but the stories were from when they were kids, not from now. Now is supposed to be more welcoming, more accepting, but people like Diego and his parents exist. 

Alexia, Jenni and Olga had all received the same phone call. There had been an incident at school and they were needed as soon as possible. Obviously Jenni wasn’t able to make it, but both Olga and Alexia raced there. 

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, your Mami had bought two of her younger teammates. She was supposed to take Vicky and Jana home after they got to the training centre but she didn’t have time and they didn’t mind. 

Alexia and Olga arrived at the office at the same time. You were sitting there, hair a mess, a soon to be black eye and a bite mark on your arm. 

“Mari? What happened?” Alexia crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees. Just as you were about to reply, Diego and his parents walked out of the office. He looked a lot worse than you did. A blood nose that had dripped down onto his shirt, scratch’s around his jaw and neck, not one but two bruising eyes. 

“Ms Putellas, Ms Rios, please come in. Y/n, wait out here.” 

The tension in the office was palpable. Alexia was fuming, Olga was slightly confused but also mad, Diego’s parents look like they were ready to fight themselves. 

“There was an incident during afternoon break between your daughter and another student, Diego.” 

“An incident? That’s what you’re calling this? She’s sitting out there with a black eye, and a bite mark on her!” Alexia blew up. 

“Ale.” Olga put her hand on alexia’s forearm, trying to calm her down. 

“Diego was the instigator, however, your daughter threw him up against a locker, punching him repeatedly until she was pulled off him by two teachers.” The principal let it sink in for a moment before he continued on, “I am aware of a few issues that y/n has been facing, the bullying that other-“

“I’m sorry, bullying? You’re telling me my daughter, our daughter, has been getting bullied here and you haven’t been bothered to call one of us? That’s ridiculous!” Alexia said. 

“We were told by y/n that she had spoken to you. We have sent letters home, tried to call you and Jennifer. I must tell you, school isn’t the only place she’s been getting bullied. Y/n told the guidance councillor that at football she gets bullied too.“ 

When the words registered in Alexia’s head, she felt like she failed. Failed you as a mother, a person. You were getting bullied at school and football and she didn’t notice. 

“Where do we go from here?” Olga spoke up, noticing the battle her girlfriend was currently going through. 

“The school has a zero tolerance for violence, while Diego has been bullying her, and he will be dealt with, y/n was also apart of this fight so unfortunately I have no choice but to suspend her for the rest of the week.” 

“A suspension! No that’s not fair on her!” 

“I’m sorry. My hands are tied. I suggest you take her home, and have a conversation with her. We can’t do much more than what we are already doing. If you get anymore names, or it’s via social media, we can take further action but for now this is the only option.” 

When Alexia walked straight out of the office without saying anything to you, you knew you were in trouble. Olga gave you a sympathetic smile before motioning for you to get up. 

The car ride home was quiet. Your Mami hadn’t arrived back yet since she had to drop the girls off. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

“Not really.”

“Your Mami is going to ask, probably in a not nice way.” 

“She’ll be mad. Mad that I didn’t tell her, that I’m not strong like her.” 

“Mari, you’re strong. You’re so strong!” 

“No im not! Otherwise this wouldn’t have happened! I’m not like them, like you!” You yelled. Trying to get her to understand. “Mami and mama are world class athletes, you’re smart and pretty but I’m- I’m just me.” 

“You’re smart, you’re pretty. Sure they are world class athletes but it took them a while to get there, it doesn’t happen over night. You need to train-“

“I don’t want to train! I don’t want to play. I do it because of them Olga. Because of who they are. Everybody tells me how different I am, how I won’t be as good or amount to them. I just want to be enough!”

Olga pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you cried into her. Alexia could be obvious to some things, and this was clearly one of those things. 

After a while she coaxed you out of the hug, putting her hands on your cheeks and wiping away the tears, “can you tell me what he said to you? I know you, and I know you wouldn’t just hit someone for no reason.” 

“Him and his friends say stuff all the time. I don’t usually respond, and today I didn’t. I guess it just made him angrier. He said.” You took a deep breath, knowing that it would hurt Olga’s feelings as much as it hurt yours, “he said you, Mami and mama were going to hell because you were filthy lesbians, he said something else and so did all his friends. I ignored him and when I went past he pulled my ponytail. I just lost it.” 

You heard Olga have a sharp inhale of breath and then pull you towards the couch. For a while you both just sat there, Oga never letting up on the hold she had. When the front door sounded from Alexia getting home, Olga pulled you up and told you to go shower, needing to have a conversation with alexia. 

“Amor? Mari? I’m back.” Alexia kicked her shoes off, throwing her keys into the bowl. She knew a conversation was needed but to be honest, she didn’t have the energy. 

“Ale.” Olga all but threw herself into her girlfriend’s arms. 

“Woah, what happened?” 

“They say horrible things to her ale and she doesn’t even do anything.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“She told me all about it. Everything they say at football, at school, everything.” 

Alexia pulled Olga through to her room, wanting to know everything that was said. It took a while for alexia to understand why Olga was upset but once she did, she was equally upset. 

You had showered, thrown your clothes in the hamper and unpacked your bag. You looked towards your mami and Olga’s room for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. You knew what you did was wrong, incredibly wrong but after spending the last year being constantly picked on, it got to you. 

It was dark by the time they emerged from their room. Both in different clothes and with damp hair. 

“I’m going to order dinner.” Olga said as she headed toward the kitchen. 

“Marquita, I need to talk to you.” You nodded, tucking your legs into your chest, scared about the outcome of what is to come. “Olga told me what you said. Do you have anything to add?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re sorry?” 

“Yeah I’m sorry. I thought, I thought I could handle it, that I was strong enough like you and mama but when he pulled my hair I just got so angry. They always say things about you and mama but this time they were talking about Olga too.”

“Olga also said you didn’t like football, why don’t you tell me? Or mama? We wouldn’t have forced you to play.” 

“Because you’re the Alexia Putellas. Imagine what people would say and think if I didn’t play.” 

“I don’t care about what people think or say, what I care about is your happiness, you aren’t happy at school or at football. I’ve spoken to your mama, we will change your school and remove you from football.” 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No! I’m sad for you, I’m sad you didn’t tell me what was going on, I’m mad at those boys and their parents, and at the principal.” 

“I was embarrassed. You and mama are able to ignore everything negative people say and I thought I could do the same.” 

“But we can’t.” You gave her a confused look, “since the World Cup, mama has been getting extra mean comments and messages on social media, I have too but not to the same extent. It affects her, it affects me, Olga gets them too. The way we get through it is because we know they are wrong. If two girls want to love each then they can, if two boys want to they can, a boy and a girl? They can. If Jenni and I want to have a family, we can and we did. If Olga and I want too, we can. No one is allowed to tell you or anyone else who they can and can’t love.” 

“You and Olga are going to have a baby?” 

“That’s all you got out of that?” Alexia laughed, “maybe, do you want a baby brother or sister?” 

You launched yourself at your mami, “yes! Both! Twins!” 

You were grateful for Olga, the act of telling you mami what had happened seemed like a ginormous task, she made it easier. The more you thought about it, Olga made a lot of things easier. When she was home things ran smoothly, but when she was gone it was like a missing puzzle piece. 

As the night drew to a close, you had to call your mama in Mexico. Mami had already told her everything that had happened, so when you two spoke over FaceTime she promised she also wasn’t mad, when the next school holidays were on, you’d fly to Mexico and spend the week with her. 

Over the course of the winter break, you and Olga were able to spend more time together. She shared her life story, including the times as a rowdy teenager. She took you shopping for your new school uniform and even bought your first set of makeup. 

While you were sad to be leaving the friends you had made, you were glad to be in a new school, a school where you would hopefully be okay. 

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter VIII: Rumours 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after your show in Oldtown, things seem different. How will you and Aemond navigate this new normality?

Warnings: 18+, self-destructive thoughts, mentions of rehab, therapy and anger management, allusions to smut

Word count: 4500

A/N: What a journey! Thank you so much to everyone that has followed this story, both for the first and second time.

Three months later. 

The tour went on for over two months, finishing with a sold-out show back home in King’s Landing. Thanks to management bringing in some highly skilled people to work on finalising the songs on Rumours, the event doubled as the release day of your second album. 

You sold twice as many records in the first three days as your first album did since its release last year.

Though you’re certain that some of the attention your album’s received is due to the dramatic end of your marriage to Aemond, you’re convinced that fans wouldn’t be buying it if they didn’t enjoy the music. The reviews from major music outlets were raving about the emotional depth throughout the album, another indicator that gossip wasn’t the only selling point of your heartbreaking labour. 

Now, with the holidays closing in, your label has asked you to create some type of extra material to put on a limited edition version of Rumours. 

The members of Dragon Dreamers agreed that adding a bonus track would be the best feature, and decided to meet in the studio to record it in one go; a straight-forward and quick procedure fitting your time restraint. 

You’ve been playing around with a few ideas for new songs, but nothing substantial that feels ready just yet. Lucky for you, Helaena posted in your group chat that she’s been working on a song you could use. 

You’d listened to the demo she shared and the song truly has great potential, being somewhat fast-paced with Helaenas dreamy vocals adding that mellow feel to it only she seems capable of. 

Reaching the studio, you step out of the taxi and thank the driver over your shoulder, pulling the thick, wool fabric of your coat tighter around your trembling body. 

It’s only the last week of November, but winter seems to have come early this year. You hurry to get into the building where the studio is, shaking fingers fidgeting with the key in your cold, inflexible hand, too stiff to obey you and get the thin piece of brass into the keyhole. 

“Allow me”, echoes a voice behind you, and the corners of your lips pull up at the familiar, gentle tone. 

“It’s fucking freezing”, you say light-heartedly and move away from the lock to make space for Aemond, who steps forward, key already in hand.

He unlocks the door swiftly, giving you a pointed look while pushing the heavy door open with one hand. It’s his idea of banter; meeting your eyes with that cheeky glint dancing in his eyes, amusement hiding in his lips where the faintest promise of a smile forms. 

“Thank you” 

You walk past him into the hallway leading to the studio and he follows behind you, mumbling a quiet, 

“Anytime”

After the show in Oldtown, your and Aemond’s relationship has improved immensely. Agreeing that whatever happens, the band comes first, proves to be a good way for the both of you to stay on track. 

Being on the road and performing several times a week is draining, stressful, and overall rough. But in the strain, it’s provided you with some peace of mind, forced to put all your focus on work instead of dwelling on the past.

On everything that’s happened between the two of you.

Besides, Aemond’s put in effort to be civil as well, even bordering on being friendly at times, asking you if you’d like anything from the coffee shop before he went to grab an espresso. A clear sign of trying that you appreciate, no matter how small. 

Besides, it’s not like he even needs to ask. He knows perfectly well what you like. 

But this feels better; feigning ignorance. 

Not still acting like a married couple. 

Perhaps his change was not entirely due to what occurred in Oldtown. Helaena had let it slip one day over lunch that he’d started seeing a therapist, while also attending an anger management program online. 

You’re happy for him, truly. 

It shows on his demeanour that he’s doing better; that he knows how to handle situations better. He seems more in tune with his inner self as well, more in control of it. You’re glad to see him improving, and yet there’s a small part of you that still mourns the broken bond between the two of you. 

That part feels resentful, annoyed with the fact that he couldn’t have done this before your divorce. 

Then you might still be together. 

Helaena’s singing voice grows louder as you move closer to the door of the studio, pushing it open with your stiff, cold hands. 

Jace and Erryk are already seated, listening intently to Helaena’s instructions as she explains how they’re going to record the song. You and Aemond slip in, eyes trained on her, and she offers you a nod in greeting, continuing to discuss her vision of the song,

“The build up has to be captivating! It speeds up towards the outro at the end, which is like the highlight of the song”, she says, hands coming up to put emphasis on her words, 

“That’s what you’d envisioned, right Aemond?”

Her head turns to meet the gaze of her younger brother, waiting for a sign of agreement. He only hums in reply and nods at her, prompting her to continue. 

Has Aemond written this song?

You think back to the demo Helaena sent of her singing and playing piano. 

Isn’t this a love song?

“Finally wrote a song for your girlfriend then?”, Erryk teases as he lowers himself to take a seat behind the drum set. 

A wave of nausea crashes over you without warning. You feel your heart race in your chest, like it’s fighting to get out, and a sickening panic spreads within you. Your hands, that’d just felt so cold and stiff, now feel clammy and tingling with unease. 

You knew this day would come. 

The day Aemond writes a song for Alys. 

You’d mentally prepared for it; convinced yourself that whenever this day came, you’d be okay. It wouldn’t hurt that much, you already know that he’s moved on. 

But Erryk’s question leaves you disoriented, almost dizzy, and you hear the furious beat of your heart in your ears.

Now you have to live with your decision to leave him all those months ago. Allow him to move on and watch him from the sidelines as his colleague. 

Sing along to the declaration of love he’s written for his new lover? 

“Hel and I have been working on this song since last spring”, he dismissively replies, throwing Erryk a look that feels cold, yet his tone stays neutral. 

Since last spring? 

You still feel the heavy weight of anxiety on your chest, but with a few deep breaths, you manage to pull yourself together. 

Just get through this afternoon, then you can go home and dwell in self-pity without spectators. 

The band starts to play, Helaena singing as her fingers dance over the keys of the piano, 

‘Sweet, wonderful you’

‘You make me happy with the things you do’

‘Oh, can it be so?’

‘This feeling follows me wherever I go’

Aside from the demo Helaena sent you a few days ago, you’ve never heard this song before. If Aemond’s been working on it since last spring, does that mean he’s kept it a secret from you?

Maybe he played a rough edit to you before your separation? 

Maybe he and Helaena had reworked it beyond recognition? 

‘I never did believe in miracles’

‘But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try’

‘I never did believe in the ways of magic’

‘But I’m beginning to wonder why’

He’s not usually the type to write love songs. His solo song on your first album, titled ‘I’m so Afraid’, can be described as anything but romantic. 

‘Don’t break the spell’

‘It would be different and you know it will’

But this? Is it the love he receives from Alys that has prompted him to write such an exposing song; causing him to believe in miracles and magic? 

Does she make him feel safe? 

Safer than before? 

‘You make loving fun’

‘And I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one’

You try to keep your voice stable as you sing along, backing up Helaena’s delicate tone. 

It hurts, hearing how much he doesn’t miss you; how happy he is with her. 

The one that makes loving fun. 

When you were married, all you seemed capable of was making him miserable. 

Loving you wasn’t fun. 

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

Some hours go by.

You record a few different versions of the song; playing around with various sounds. 

Every time you sing the words, they stab your heart like a knife, 

‘You make loving fun’

You try to act normal. You try so hard that you can taste copper on your tongue. Thankfully, no one seems to see through your facade. 

Just breathe. 

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. 

You know that it won’t hurt this much forever. 

One day, you’ll wake up and your lungs won’t ache when you inhale deeply. Your eyes won’t burn from the force in which you're trying to prevent tears from falling. 

Time heals all wounds. 

But yours are still fresh. Leaking and aching. 

All you want to do is go home, throw yourself in bed and cry. 

You crave release, whether it comes from sorrow-induced dehydration, calling Alysanne just to yell out your frustrations, or screaming into a pillow.

When Helaena finally wraps up the recording session, asking you to come back tomorrow after she’s listened through a few of the takes, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the door. 

Just need to get out. 

Away. 

You call out a rushed farewell over your shoulder as you make your way down the corridor of the building, hand coming up to the door handle to step out into the cold November night. 

You brace yourself, ready for the chill air to hit your cheeks as you pull the door open. But before you’re able to leave, a large hand gently grabs your shoulder, keeping you in place, 

“Wait”

Aemond’s voice is low behind you. 

You inhale a deep, shaky breath before you turn around to face him. 

“Yes, Aemond?”

Your voice is purposefully flat, and you’re doing your absolute best to not let the hurt you feel reflect on your tone. 

“I wanted to talk to you”, he begins, tongue coming out to lick his lips. He’s apprehensive in a way that makes his voice sound foreign, like he’s not himself. 

“Did you like it? The song?”

Your gaze flickers down at his question, a reflex-like response so you don’t roll your eyes at him. He sure makes it difficult to be the bigger person. 

Set on tormenting you. 

“Yes”

You bite out the reply, laced with innate irritation you can’t conceal. 

Yes, it’s a good song, you can’t deny that. But seeking you out to have you admit that the song he wrote for his new partner is good Is a new low. 

And to think you thought he’d finally changed for the better. 

Aemond’s good eye roams your face, seemingly searching for something. An answer hidden in your features. 

He licks his lips again, as if he’s looking for what to say, 

“You do, you know”

His eye still flickering around without meeting yours, and his restless demeanour makes you nervous too. 

“I do what?”, you ask, irritation now clear in your curt tone. 

“Make loving fun”, he answers. 

The shock of his sudden confession renders you speechless, and Aemond takes the opportunity to pull you out of the building and into the dark night. 

The heavy door to the studio closes with a loud thud, and left are you and Aemond, alone in the freezing, dark November night. 

“I wanted to surprise you with the song on our wedding anniversary in June, but obviously..”, his voice dies out. 

Still lost for words, you’re sure you look ridiculous, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

Aemond carefully takes in your reaction and takes a deep breath himself, 

“I’ve thought about our relationship recently. A lot”, he says, eyes flickering down to your trembling hands.

Are they shaking from the cold? 

He takes your hands in his warm grip, encapsulating their entirety, 

“I didn’t treat you right-”

“I, I just-, I loved you so fucking much, I-, I didn’t know how to handle loving you so fiercely. I still do”

He has that sad look in his eye that you’ve grown familiar with; the sorrow that he’s made a habit of keeping from you. 

Now, it’s on full display as he offers you himself again, 

“Please take me back”, he quietly begs, body moving forward, face coming down so he can rest his cheek on your head, hands still holding yours tightly. 

You feel lost for words, stiffly staying in place as you hear Aemond inhale deeply through his nose buried in your hair. 

“Aemond”, you sigh, tone thick and unsteady, 

“I thought we’d agreed to move forward as bandmates”

“I’ve missed you so much”, he mumbles in reply, unmoving as he rests his head on yours. 

“You’re with Alys now”, you breathe out, disbelief making it hard for you to sort out your thoughts.

“I haven’t seen her since Winterfell”, he replies.

“Aem-”, you try to oppose but he cuts you off,

“I’m sorry for ruining everything. I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. I’m sorry for being selfish”, he confesses quietly, whispering his sins into your hair. 

Aemond moves to let go of your hands, and instead brings his arms around your shoulders to hug you. 

His voice is still low, mouth right next to your ear, 

“I took your love for granted. I couldn’t imagine a world where we weren’t together”, he admits and presses your body against his, 

“And now I regret how I treated you every day. I know my actions are inexcusable, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need-”, his voice breaks, 

“I need you”

Being in his embrace, so full of the love you’ve been missing for months, causes your lids to feel heavy, and you close your eyes and rest your cheek against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. 

He still smells the same. 

The most comforting, warming scent in the world. 

It would be so easy to take him back.

It is so tempting. 

You gently pull away to look up at him, eyes locking with his, 

“Aemond, you know you weren’t happy being with me” 

“I’m going to therapy, I’m trying to be better”, he says quietly. His eyes are glassy when he adds, 

“For you”

You swallow the lump lodged in your throat. 

“That’s great, Aemond, and I’m so proud of you”, 

“But I don’t think getting back together would be good for either of us”, you conclude, gaze carefully gauging his expression, anxiously awaiting his reaction. 

The inevitable fire. 

His eyes narrow, face setting in harsh displeasure. 

You notice the corners of his mouth twitch downwards as he stares at you in silence, nostrils flaring with each breath. 

His warmth disappears as he steps away from you. 

He quickly shifts to the side to avoid your eyes, and leaves without another word.

You do all three things when you get home. 

You cry, you scream into a pillow, and you call Alysanne to yell out your frustrations. 

Nothing helps.

Why did he have to do this now? 

Why couldn’t he have done this when you were still together? 

The wound of your marriage opens up again, sending icy waves of pain through your body. 

This was supposed to be the part when things got better; when time had healed the wounds.

And yet, you’re still hurting just as much. 

A gash that refuses to stop bleeding. 

In the depths of your despair, you see your phone light up with a notification through the veil of tears obstructing your vision. 

You bring one of your hands up to half-heartedly wipe away the tears that spill out as the other grabs the phone to see who’s texted. 

Aemond: “I’m sorry for earlier tonight. If you want to remain friends, I would appreciate that”

For the second time tonight, his unpredictability astonishes you. 

Where’s the anger? 

You’re unmoving, hand holding your phone in a cramp-like grip as it lights up again. 

Aemond: “It’ll be entirely on your conditions”

You inhale, closing your eyes as you ponder your reply. 

Exhaling slowly, you open your eyes again to type out your answer.

You: “Okay”

Like most things, though it seemed absurd in the beginning, being friends with Aemond has become a normality. 

It started slowly, not going further than the two of you chatting during band practice. 

Then, you started going out to grab coffee together, airly discussing the band, upcoming shows, and what music you’d been listening to recently. 

As weeks pass by, your newfound familiarity blooms into a friendship. 

You start taking more liberties around each other, without constantly being on edge. 

Things like Aemond asks you if you’d like to go see a film by an up-and-coming director, you asking him if he’d like to grab food on the way home from the studio together. 

Your marriage, as tumultuous and heartbreaking as it had been, seems a distant memory now. The ashes from what once was have provided soil for the two of you to build a new, healthy friendship on. You feel thankful for that.

Thankful to still have Aemond in your life.

Being friends suits him. 

He’s opened up far more in these past few weeks to you than he had during the entirety of your futile relationship. 

He acredits it to the therapy and anger management he’d done, but you sense a real shift within him. 

He tells you about Alys; how he met her and how they developed a kind of friends with benefits dynamic as he longed for intimacy and she became his manager. 

Though you can vividly remember him calling her his ‘girlfriend’, he apparently hadn’t made that clear with her, and when he asked her to come on tour with him, a childish attempt at making you jealous, you presume, she’d patted him on the cheek and explained that though he’d been a fun fuck, she didn’t have time for a partner. 

He says that in retrospect, her not having any romantic feelings for him must’ve been a blessing, since he was only using her for selfish fulfilment himself. 

He tells you about Aegon; how they hadn’t spoken all summer, until Aemond reached out to properly apologise, a crucial part of the anger management program. 

Aegon, inspired by Aemond’s dedication to sort out his inner demons, had decided on a fourth trip to rehab. By now, he’s stayed sober for longer than ever before.

Aemond says that he’s made a habit of bringing his brother out hiking, trekking the vast landscape of the Reach. 

Sometimes during those long walks, they’d talk over each other, engaging in passionate discussion about everything and anything. Other times, they walk in comfortable silence, simply existing together. 

It’s nice seeing your ex husband so content. 

The bitterness you first felt at his dilatory introspection has been replaced by admiration; impressed by his dedication to be better. 

Somewhere inside, the wound of the past bleeds less and less. 

Perhaps this is how you were always meant to be? 

Friends. 

The realisation is bitter, but you’ve grown used to the taste on your tongue. 

You made the right decision. 

It’s almost midwinter when Aemond asks you to come over to your old flat one Sunday morning. 

Apparently he’s in the process of subletting the place, and needs help removing any personal belongings. 

It’s strange being back, already foreign and distant, yet still so familiar. 

“I’ve put some of your stuff in the guest bedroom”

Aemond gestures for you to follow him as you step inside. 

Like you don’t know where it is.

You follow him, watching as he opens the wardrobe, stepping to the side to invite you in. 

True to his perfectionist nature, your things are neatly organised, hanging in tidy rows. 

Some of your clothes, two coats, a vase you’d gotten from Alicent on your birthday, a jewellery box. Mostly gifts you received from Aemond, too painful for you to bring with you when you left all those months ago.

Maybe now you’re finally ready to look at the relics of your broken marriage with fondness, reminiscent of the love you once shared. 

As you inspect the wardrobe, you notice an old box tucked in one corner, edges worn down and structure almost caving in. 

You pick it up and open the lid, surprised to find the picture collage you’d made for him on your six month anniversary inside, along with a few other memorabilia from your relationship.

Two tickets to the cinema, a pub receipt, an ugly doodle of Aemond you drew as a joke. 

“What’s this?”, you ask as your hands rummage through the content of the box.

Aemond looks up from the moving box he’d been hunched in front of, eyes going wide when he sees what’s in your hand. 

“You can just put that back”, he quickly replies, face growing a bit pink. 

“I can just move this to the trash as well”, you say and shift towards the big, black bin bag in the corner. 

“That’s alright. I-, I want to keep it”, he mumbles quietly and stands up, towering over you as he takes the box from your hands. 

Your eyes dart from the frame with the pictures you’d made for him to his face, not quite sure why he wants to keep such trivial things. 

“I want to keep the memories” 

He puts the lid back on the box, bends down to place it on the floor, and pushes it towards the back of the closet using his foot. 

There’s something in the air that causes the mood to shift. It’s like a thick fog has settled over the room, sticking in your lungs whenever you breathe. 

“The good old days”, you joke stiffly, trying to chase the uncomfortable tension away. 

Aemond’s standing with his back against you, facing the closet. He hums in reply at your attempted humour. 

“Everything was so easy back then”, you sigh, moving to grab one of the coats hanging next to where he stands. 

He’s stiff as he turns to you, watching as you carefully examine the coat, pondering whether you should keep it or not. 

“I-”, Aemond starts before he stops himself, appearing to be lost in thought,

“I’d try every day to make it easy for you. To love me, I mean” 

Your head snaps to the side. His confession hits you with such force, it’s almost physical, and now it’s your turn to be lost for words. 

“Oh, Aemond”, you choke out as you take in the sad frown his face is set in,

“It was never hard loving you. It was hard being loved by you”

“I know”

One of his hands moves carefully towards you. When you don’t back away from him, he takes the opportunity to place it on your cheek. 

You can feel the way his hand trembles against your skin despite how gentle his touch is.  

“I can’t promise that it’ll always be easy. But I still love you as much as I did back then. I know I shouldn’t but I need to-” he licks his lips as he’s searching for the right words, 

“I need to ask you again. Will you take me back?”

His stare is intense as he carefully evaluates your reaction. You still can’t find your voice, stuck in your throat in shock. 

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I don’t want anyone-, anything else. I’ll do anything for you. Please take me back”, he begs, voice cracking at the end of his plea. 

The hand he’s placed on your cheek feels like it’s burning an imprint onto your skin. 

You’ve never seen him like this before. 

So open; heart on display, laid out in the hand he’s now offering you.

It’s all yours. 

He hurt you so much during your time together. 

He made life so hard for you. 

He made you feel alive. 

Would it be worth it; possibly being hurt again?

Feeling alive again. 

You bring your hand up to his cheek, mirroring how he’s cradling your face. 

Alive. 

Aemond’s POV

When she tilts her head up, leans forward and pulls his face closer to hers, he almost lets out a relieved cry. 

Kissing her again feels like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. 

It’s so relieving it hurts. 

Even when he has to leave her lips to breathe, he presses his face against hers, desperate for the contact. 

He can’t be apart from her warmth for even a second longer. 

Her arms meet around his neck, keeping him close as her breath heats up the skin of his face. 

He’s robbed himself of this for months. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself for that. for allowing her to slip away. 

He searches for her mouth again, kissing her as if she could breathe life into his lungs and revive his numb heart. 

His hands can’t decide if they want to touch every part of her being, or hold her so close they melt into one. 

She presses herself against him, kissing him back with just as much vigour. 

The thought that she’s missed him makes him want to weep. 

“I love you”, he says between pants as he moves his lips from hers, trailing down to kiss her neck. 

Her hands grab the back of his shirt and she lets out a moan when his lips find the patch right beneath her ear she loves so much. 

She pulls him downwards, onto the floor, and offers him a giggle as she straddles him. 

Her fingers come down to help him unbutton his trousers, just as eager for him as he is for her. 

He feels tears burn behind his eyelids again. 

Finally. 

He can hardly contain himself as his fingers clumsily search for the buttons of his jeans to aid her in getting them off. He is so impatient, so eager for her, that his hands shake from desire. 

His soul is finally soothed when she sinks down on him. 

He’s consumed by her. 

When she begins to move, the grip of her cunt around him indicates that this won’t last long. But that’s alright. It won’t be the last time. 

He surges forward to kiss her again, to let her know how grateful he is. 

That she came back to him. 

That she’s offered him her warmth once again. 

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for reading! ❤️

A very special thank you(!) to Justine @theoneeyedprince who've helped me by beta-ing this fic. You are truly a gem, so wonderfully supportive of me and I appreciate you so, so very much. Besides being an absolute legend of a friend, Justine's also an immensely talented writer. If you're eager to read more modern heartbreak, check out her story Careless Whisper - it's so good! ❤️

[kykyonthemoon]

Hello, i've read your work recently and i'm in love with your writing! If you mind can i ask where the reader somehow remember their past life and saying sorry to the love and deepspace character? I wonder about their reaction where mc feels really guilty at them. Thank you <3

Dear lonely-dreamer,

Thank you so much for the request. It took awhile but I finally managed to finish it. Since we know too little about Sylus (or even Caleb), I wrote for only the 3 first MLs. I might write something else for Sylus and Caleb later :3

Hope you like this piece. Have a wonderful day!

Lost. Found.

When you suddenly find the memories of the past lives, which you once lived with him.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader|MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne.

♡︎. Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, short, myths related.

♡︎. Word count: 2k1

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

Roam on, my love

down life's

long road

we will

be lost

and found

a thousand times

before

we meet again.

— ATTICUS.

Rafayel

Talia came to find Rafayel in the middle of the night, while you were still half asleep, feeling his warmth slowly fade from the space next to you in bed. You sensed a major event had happened, which was why Talia hurried here alone at such a dark hour, looking so terrified. 

You had intended to go downstairs and make some tea for the guest. But as soon as you reached the stairs, Talia's voice echoed through the half-open door. 

"He will not be the last Lemurian to be slain... You know that, don't you, Rafayel? That we don't have any time left..."

Your bare feet paused. The cold air from the stone stairway touched your palm, waking you up. Yes, you were no longer dreaming. This was real. As real as everything you had seen since touching that protocore. During a mission last month, you happened to resonate with a strange protocore. It caused you to perceive illusions, but not quite so. They were like recollections from your past lives, fragmented and sewn together in front of your eyes.  The feud between you and Rafayel from a long, long time ago.

So you were aware that your tale and what Talia had said were related. Rafayel’s silence made her even more impatient. She added:

“They want her, Rafayel. They will come for you. I can’t convince them anymore… They will find her sooner or later. You already know the price…”

Time passed slowly in the dark corridor. You understood everything Talia had said, that the girl was you. What the Lemurians desired was inside your chest. You remembered, not everything, but vivid dreams told you what you had done to the Lemurians, to Rafayel.

But it wasn’t you. It was a completely unfamiliar version of you. 

A moment after Talia left, you entered the room. The warm firelight from the enormous fireplace filled the room and illuminated Rafayel's slumped back. When he heard your footsteps, he turned around with a feeble smile and asked: 

“Why are you out here, my princess? Did I and our unexpected guest awaken you?” 

You gazed at him for a brief moment. After all, you understood that every time he called you princess, it was not just a loving pet name.

You moved closer and hugged Rafayel. You had not told him about your dreams or what you had recalled. That night, you were determined to tell him everything.

Rafayel was astonished. The warm firelight in his eyes blurred, and pure white pearls began to tumble to the floor.

“I’m sorry… Rafayel… I’m so sorry…”

Rafayel seized your hands, drew them closer, and kissed them with his lips.

"To be loved, it's not a sin."

His fingers tenderly wiped the tears from your face. He had waited so long for you to discover who you really were, and at the same time he hoped you would never know. That way you could live your days freely, not bound by the hatred of the past. Yet you still remembered everything.

Your breathing became heavy with each sob. You said: 

“Rafayel… If you want my heart…”

"I want it to stay there," Rafayel said. "Within your chest. It's yours. Across the past, present, and future. I have never once regretted giving it to you. If you remember, you know I always try to rewrite our story, right?”

“But the Lemurians…”

“They are losing faith in me. I understand. But all I need is your faith. We will get through this and never be apart again. Do you understand?”

You did not dare to believe that there might truly be a happy ending for you and Rafayel. But in that moment, as you gazed into his resolute eyes, you realized that you would do everything just to stay with him.

Xavier 

Lately, you had a hunch that Xavier was going to leave. 

Ever since you returned from that mission, there appeared to be an unseen divide between you two. You knew it was not him, it was you. The mysterious protocore you accidentally came into contact with during the mission caused you to see things. The dreams were fractured, with no beginning or end. However, you comprehended them as if they were recollections from your former lives.

You kept it hidden from Xavier. He merely thought you were acting odd since you returned, but he would not compel you to say anything against your will. You secretly searched for evidence to back up what you suspected. And you found it.

You knew about the Backtracker fleet. You knew about Philos. And you knew about Lumiere.

Xavier kept everything hidden for your safety. And yet, you kept this a secret because you did not wish for him to suffer. Again.

You still did not know what to say to him, or how to compensate for his loss. He had sacrificed so much, for you. But somewhere inside, you still felt a little resentful that he had left you all alone. You knew he was ready to make the same decision as when he abandoned you at Philos.

“Go to bed early.” Xavier stroked your head gently. “In a few days, when you wake up, I’ll be by your side.”

Lie.

“Do you really have to go?” You hesitated. “I mean… You could have refused this mission.”

You could have stayed. You could have told me the truth.

"I have to go." Xavier responded. He gently squeezed your cheek. "But I'll be back shortly. Do not worry too much. Remember to eat well and skip any meals. Don't stay awake too late. It's getting colder; remember to stay warm. If you are bored and miss me, you may play the video games I recently purchased or watch the unfinished movies..."

It sounds like you're not coming back! You held back the tears and replied:

“If you don’t come back soon, I might have to watch them all by myself.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to tell me the plots.” Xavier smiled. He lightly kissed your forehead. “I’ll leave now.”

You sat on the sofa, listening to his footsteps as they slowly walked away. A slight "click" was heard as the door closed.

His mission was only an excuse. A few days back, you overheard him and Jeremiah talking. He intended to use this expedition to stage a phony "missing case" to distract those who had betrayed him. With Jeremiah, he would lead them away from Linkon, away from you.

He chose to leave you. Again.

Warm tears streamed down your cheeks.  All alone, what should you do? You recalled the scene in the past, in which you sat on the throne with the blessings of so many people, yet absolutely on your own. You had counted every star waiting for the day Xavier would return to you as promised. But he had completely disappeared.

This time, he pledged to return to you. This time, he would also break his promise.

You brushed the tears away. You had been thinking a lot in the last several days. You still blamed Xavier, but you understood why he had done so. And you had distanced yourself from him since you were unsure how to confront him. But, at this point, none of that mattered when you might lose Xavier again. Forever.

You raced out of the home. You did not care about the past. You had no concern what the future held. The most important thing to you right that moment was Xavier alone.

Unable to wait for the elevator, you decided to run. You caught Xavier standing outside, likely waiting for Jeremiah. You hurried over to embrace his back. To Xavier's amazement and your weeping, you stated:

“Don’t go… Xavier… Don’t leave me alone again… I’m sorry that I assumed you left me to find your true star… I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, that ever since I touched that protocore, I started remembering what happened in Philos… I know who you are. Who I am… So don’t think you can fool me again… This time, I’ll go wherever you go. Let me face it with you, okay?…”

Xavier did not have time to respond. You could feel his entire body shudder as a burning tear fell onto your hand, which he had just squeezed so tightly.

Zayne 

"Doctor Zayne is out of danger. You can come in." Greyson's voice sounded out. Yvonne stood alongside him, relieved. You nodded at each of them and entered the hospital ward.

How strange, since in all the previous cases, it was Zayne standing here, and you were the one lying on the bed.

There was an attack on the outskirts of Linkon. You were sent to investigate, and Zayne had accompanied his team from Akso Hospital to treat the injured. While fighting the Wanderers, you encountered a peculiar protocore. It had drawn you into a bizarre realm where you appeared to glimpse the lives you had once lived, with Zayne.

You were not sure how long you had been there. It was like a dream, with no sense of time or who you were. You were lost down there, so deep that Zayne had given up everything to find you. The real Zayne, yours, in this timeline. 

The price of bringing you back was him lying there, fighting for every breath, body covered in wounds and almost completely frozen. 

The price of bringing you back was him laying there, battling for every breath, his body covered in wounds and almost frozen. 

You lightly stroke his frigid hand. Zayne did not respond but his heartbeat remained steady. He would live. That was what Greyson told you, and it was all you held on to that moment. 

Hope.

You stayed by his bedside all night, breathing life and all of your love into Zayne’s hands. When the first rays of the morning light woke you and the warmth returned to him, his eyes fluttered and gradually opened. You squeezed his hand.

“Zayne… Zayne… You're here!…” You cried out. You called for him and not completely him, but the Zayne of all the lives you had found.

Tears began to trickle down your pale cheeks. Zayne carefully wiped them away.

“Why are you crying?… I… did not go anywhere…”

You grabbed his hand and pressed your face against it. You kissed his hand aggressively, as if you were scared he would disappear again. 

“I don’t believe you anymore… You lied… You always said that I would live a happy life in the end… But then, you vanished without a trace… Did you think you could fool me again this time?” 

Zayne’s pupils widened. In an instant, his reaction shifted from astonishment to joy, then despair.

“I…”

"You know, right?" You dried your tears, halting whatever he was about to say. “You know that we don’t have just this one life. Right? You know that you disappeared in front of me in the jasmine field… You left me seeking for you among mountains and hills… This time, you really intended to leave me again… Do you believe that I could really live happily in a world without you?” You let out all your pent-up emotions through each word, each tear. Zayne stared at you with a mix of anguish and joy. You were aware of the same thing he was.

"I'm sorry…" Zayne spoke softly. His fingers cradled your chin and softly elevated your face. 

“Why should you apologize?… After all… The one who is most at fault is me… Because of meeting me, Zayne…” 

You trailed off. Choking. Your entire body trembled as emotions came to the surface. Zayne struggled to sit up, then drew you into his arms and embraced you hard. 

“Because of meeting you, I learned what it means to love someone. Because of meeting you, my world is no longer lost in ice and snow… I chose you. It will always be you…”

You let out another sob. You clutched to Zayne. “I’m sorry… I’m really… I’m sorry…” 

Zayne's weight was resting on your head as he kissed your hair. He rubbed your back to soothe you, like he always did. 

“It's alright now… It’s alright… When I came to find you and get you out of the protofield, I thought I wouldn’t have the strength to go back anymore… Yet I heard you calling my name all night long… You helped me find my way back. You found me. You saved me… This time, I have no intention of letting you go ever again.”

[animeweeb115]

“I'd rather you didn't insult my friends...”

[acourtofquietdreamers]

Elain Archeron Week: Hope

Art by Pinkykei.art and commissioned by me 💗

Imagine being Elain Archeron at the end of ACOWAR. She was just turned fae against her will, her body violated in the process and a stranger claiming her as his mate moments after. She’s forced to leave behind the life she was building for herself to live in a land she was raised to fear. She spent months plagued by visions and powers she doesn’t understand, leaving her almost catatonic as she’s trapped in a murky realm she can’t escape. She finally gains clarity on her new powers, but is then cruelly rejected by her fiancé. The same magical pot that turned her fae lures her out of camp under the false pretense that her ex-fiancé came back for her. She witnessed brutal battles that left her retching and then rammed a magical blade through a king’s neck, taking her first life. This same king murdered her father moments before.

After these events, she has every right to despair and crumble, but Elain Archeron chooses a different path. She cleans up her father’s lifeless body, picks him flowers, and tells him she loves him.

“Elain quietly washed his face. Combed out his hair and beard. Straightened his clothes. She found flowers—somewhere. She laid them at his head, on his chest. We stared down at him in silence. “I love you,” Elain whispered, voice breaking.”

She smiles and hopes.

“Elain nodded, smiling up at me, and it was tentative joy—and life that shone in her eyes. A promise of the future, gleaming and sweet.”

She dreams.

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

Elain’s ability to rise above everything that happened to her as she continues to dream of better days shows extreme resilience and I admire the way she looks to find and create beauty in the world, no matter how bleak things look. She’s holding a bouquet of irises in this piece and much like our quiet dreamer, irises symbolize hope and faith. They’re also one of the flowers Feyre painted on Elain’s dresser drawer so I thought they fit perfectly here! Thank you so much again, Pinkykei, for working on this piece for me. Happy Elain is the best Elain and you captured that beautifully 🥹💗

Please don’t repost without permission.

@elainarcheronweek

[myromanempiree]

enchanting ; act one

(Previously titled; dreamers with no stars.)

Pairing; Eris x Archeron!Reader

Warnings: angst if you squint.

Summary: Your sister invites you to a ball, you meet an enchanting man.

"With all I've loved,

I loved alone"

-Edgar Allan Poe

....

To be isolated is to walk down the mahogany stairs of the House, trailing curious fingers down the barely textured, cream-colored walls. To hear the third step squeak when you place your weight on it, just on the left side. To walk down the endless hallways, filled with family portraits that seem to mock her existence with the words whispered in the back of her mind,  "you are lost, yet no one cares to find you.” To walk into the warm light of the kitchen to find everyone gathered around the breakfast table for some Saturday tradition.

Forgotten as Feyre and Rhysand dote over the bump that grows larger and larger with each day, forgotten as Nesta and Elain quietly converse, still adjusting to the crowd of fey, yet comfortable in their presence. Forgotten as Azriel makes an off handed comment that rials Cassian up, Mor grinning against the rim of her glass.

To be isolated is to walk to the counter to grab something to eat, only Amren sparing her a single glance, paired with a barely-there nod.

She slowly piles food onto her plate, before finding those same portrait filled hallways, the same cream-colored walls, the same mahogany steps, a new day, yet the same routine.

….

Hours pass as she searches the library, keen eyes scanning the leather bound books looking for a specific title that one of the priestesses had recommended. She pulls a book down with nimble fingers, before adding it to the pile of books for the week. 

She absent mindedly sorts through the books, eyes darting from the stack of books to the list she had made a few days ago. Her mind was much too focused on the titles to hear the soft shutting of the large doors, and the rustling behind her. It takes the woman behind her a few tries to pull her out of her focus, Feyre's voice growing louder as she repeats her name several times, before tapping on her shoulder.

“Yes?” She said, head slowly turning to glance at her sister. Feyre hums, circling the chaise and sitting down beside her. “I wanted to speak to you about something.” Feyre began, opening her mouth to speak before being interrupted by the woman next to her. 

“Is it about breakfast? I don't usually go anyways–” “No, no… its not about breakfast, I wanted to ask you to join us, Rhysand is hosting an event in Hewn City and… Don't make that face, Sea Lion.” Feyre said at the obvious distaste in her sister's face. 

Ah, yes… that nickname. Born from Nesta's teasing over a decade ago, due to her brief curiosity of the creatures after hearing of one from her fathers business partner, it was mocking at first, but morso a pet name as they grew older. Something she had never understood was how her sisters could use something that was originally thought of as mocking, as an endearment. 

She was pulled from her thoughts yet again as Feyre sighed, gently reaching out for her sisters hand. “It is very important to me that you go, I would like all my sisters to be there.” At her sisters silence, she nods.

“Please, think about it.” 

Please was not a word any of her sisters used often, other than Elain, of course. Feyre must really want this, so she sighed, “I suppose  Ill attend.” She said softly, turning to her sister and nodding, looking into her eyes for the first time today.. Feyre thanking her hand skittering off, probably to tell Rhysand.

“Smile. You look like you don't want to be here.” Nesta said, looking amused as she sips from her glass. 

“I don't.” She responds, her sister sighing. “Neither do I, and I much less want to have to seduce that.” Nesta said, gesturing to a man in the crowd, speaking with Mor's father, Kier or something. The man turning to look behind him towards the dias, letting her see a proper peek at his face.

Oh, Mother.

There stood the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, cropped copper hair, high cheekbones that added an air of regality to him without making the man look haughty. Plump  lips pulled into the most self assured grin, showing his perfect teeth, keen whisky eyes examining the room in a manner that bordered on predatory.

 The moment those dazzling eyes met hers, she looked down to her glass, cheeks pinked. Unable to see his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, unable to see the urgency in which he looked away. 

She silently excused herself, moving to the clear balcony to catch her breath, not knowing whatever the feeling she held in her heart was. The thought slightly scaring her. 

She stays on that balcony for a long while, only parting with it when the still-new sensation of a presence in her mind. And Rhysand’s voice echos words into her mind. “Come to the dais”

….

She walked to the dias, her midnight blue velvet gown ever so slightly brushing against the floor as she steps into the spare spot in between Nesta and Elain, assuming that to be her designated spot. She stands there for a while, watching silently as the beautiful man walks up the stairs, conversing with the High Lord and Lady. 

What was said not registering as she gazes at the man. Something about him felt familiar, though she was sure she'd never met him. She only began to pay attention as he walked their direction, Nesta adjusting her posture to appear more sensual. 

She assumed this to be the part where Nesta seduced the man, which felt wrong to her, for whatever reason. However, he does not stop at Nesta, he moved past her to stand in front of herself. He stepped a stair below his current stature and bow, taking her hand to his lips and brushing them against her hand. 

The sensation setting a fluttering feeling off in her stomach. “What is your name, Lady Archeron?” The man asked her, tilting his head. As she introduced herself, and he introduced himself, she was led to the dance floor by the man– Eris. 

Eris. 

Her eyes find a mole on the side of his face, right below his right  eye, gaze trained on it as they begin their waltz. She claws at her brain to find the steps, yet cannot remember. Eris gently moves his hand to the small of her back, bringing here closer to him and leaning his face  against her neck as he whispers softly.

 “Follow my lead.”

It felt natural to do so. Even though Eris kept attempting to strike up a conversation, she was too focused on trying to not step on his toes and bring them to the ground to converse. The waltz came to an end, and she bows, her hands shaking. 

The walk back to the dais was as silent as the rest of their interaction. She felt guilty for not being able to seduce the man, but regardless, was glad she was even able to waltz without falling and crashing into something or someone. 

She moved swiftly up to her sisters as shocking words ring in her ears. 

“I will offer you support, in exchange for her hand.”

a/n - I read this back and she's kinda autistic-coded, so I hope everyone is okay with that :)

Taglist;

@babypeapoddd @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @impossibelle @thestartitaness

comment if you want to join taglist!

[project-sekai-facts]

do u think prsk writing is good?

it's inconsistent. sometimes it's pretty good, sometimes it's not so good. this is something i would like to go way more indepth on but i don't think i'll have the time for a while, but i'll outline a few things here.

honestly early events are much stronger than some more recent ones. partially this is preference on my part due to preferring more character driven stuff which most early events were, but also in general the writing was much higher quality.

most year one events had a very strong sense of flow between them that has been lost over time. while events usually revolved around one character's issues, they would introduce aspects of the other characters and their issues which would be focused on later. if you read wonder halloween you'll notice there's foreshadowing for emu's arc across smile of dreamer and wonder magical showtime. this is partially because of the fact the events were so early on. we weren't as familiar with the characters as we are now and we were also new to the plots. you can also see how much more cohesive stories were back then as well because of there being way more mixed events marked as key story, like twilight parade and sakura for ln and picnic for n25. while most events still pick up from where the previous left off the sense of flow for most units just isn't felt as strongly as it was going through, say, l/n arc 1.

it also in some ways feels like the writers had a much stronger vision for early events than they do now, though distribution meta may come into play a bit. first arcs were the ones planned from the getgo. this is what they had already planned ahead for by launch. pretty much everything past year 1 was written after the game launched. we know they have a clear end, and it's evident they also had a clear start. we're currently filling in the middle and some events really feel like there's a slight lack of vision for the middle. vbs is a good aversion what with rad weekend having happened (aside from arata and souma's arcs lmfao), but other units and characters feel shafted.

to add to that last point as well as distribution meta. tsukasa5 is arguably one of the hardest hit. what seems to have happened is that they needed a second wxs event to focus on daigo's troupe, and tsukasa is the character who is most fitting for that troupe's speciality. unfortunately in order to come up with the actual plot, they had to retcon elements of tsukasa's character. tsukasa5 overall is probably one of the worst written of the recent events. it's really rough and doesn't make sense in some parts. it truly just exists bc they needed a wxs event with daigo and a wxs event in that slot.

kanade is another character who got hit hard. while she had the white day event in 2024, she was heavily shafted in terms of n25's story due to the focus being on mizuki and ena for half the year. mafuyu and ena's events were also very focused on them as individuals, leading to kanade getting like no character development for a year.

for non-2024 examples the 2nd arc enders were a mixed bag. step by step is very clearly a shoe-in because they needed to pad for time. retie functions perfectly well as an arc ender and reads like one in a few places, especially near the end. while minori had some good moments in this event it honestly feels like a mixed event. hell look at the banner card. shizuku and airi are also only in this event for a few lines of dialogue it's really rough.

oyf is incredibly rushed and tries to wrap up way too many loose ends from lutf. it feels like this arc was cut short, and you can really feel it in arc 3 when all the loose ends that still existed after oyf get their proper conclusion. side characters barring kotaro excluded, tatsuya and gurney flap had the shittest resolutions ever (tatsuya is also. barely a character lol). kohane had some good moments here, but other than that it was a really weak event.

same can be said for ohe they really needed more time and it's painfully obvious considering how much foreshadowing they did with rui only for... him to get one chapter in an emu event. there's some other things that really make this feel like it was meant to be rui or be two events one rui one emu, like the travelling troupe show. remember when rui wrote that show about his life and wxs rewrote it to show him he had a place with them. clpl doesn't. obviously it's always been important to all of them but it's significance to rui specifically has always been highlighted for obvious reasons. hell it was even mentioned in wxs first live like a couple weeks before this event dropped. while again this has good emu moments and good wxs moments it's painfully obvious at points that this was either a rui focus at one point or they combined two events. i wonder if part of the reason for that is because they realised that rui graduates at the end of the next arc so "wxs disbandment arc 2" (tentative name) will probably be more centered around him, especially with asahi's return looming over the story, and they didn't wanna make it seem like they did the same character arc with him twice.

sayonara persona and starry song are fine.

clpl really fucked themselves over with wles and the event schedule lol.

another issue with the writing from a technical standpoint is that recent events have really obnoxious exposition. listen i know we all make fun of people who only read chapter 1 and 8 of an event but did you know that actually works. you can sometimes even just read chapter 8. there's this need to constantly remind the player of stuff that happened earlier on in the event, sometimes in gratuitous detail, and i can understand why this might be necessary for the really long events like lutf or curtain call, but most events since 3rd anni have been under 1hr 30, in most cases just over an hour. the player can retain significant events that happened in the previous chapter. we don't need it constantly explained and it can actually make the audience less engaged if you constantly treat them like they don't understand what's going on. even for a game aimed at the tween/teen demographic you don't need to handhold them through the story. while yes younger audiences won't have the same literacy as an adult you should also trust that they can follow the basic story and read into basic subtext (honestly prsk is usually fine with subtext this is just an example).

"outline a few things" my ass this is pretty much everything i wanted to say. i do games writing next year and i think we cover VNs so maybe i can provide more insight then if the blog isn't dead.

(obligatory i'm not saying you can't like the events i outlined here i'm just saying that from an objective standpoint they're not the best. doesn't mean you can't find enjoyment in them. like whatever you want i'm not here to dictate your opinions)

[songsofadelaide]

"Oh, so the one percenter Officer Hibino and Captain Ashiro were childhood friends?"

You knew better than to partake in office gossip, but it was difficult not to hear things when everyone had been talking about the Third Division's new recruits. They say this year's crop is one of the best, and there was a prodigy in your midst, too, in the form of Director General Shinomiya's daughter, Kikoru. There was no doubt that the girl looked up to her as well.

It wasn't new hearing how many young bloods decided to join the Defense Force because of the cool and level-headed Captain Mina Ashiro, but her astronomical rise in rankings did not come as a surprise to many of the top brass. She had raw yet rough talent— the kind that had to be honed and sharpened like a blade meant to kill.

Ashiro was a genius. A diamond in the rough at first, but now a polished centrepiece of the crown that is the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defense Force.

It's hard to believe now she once looked up to you as her senpai. She still does, but you just don't let it get to your head. While you were glad she overcame her exhaustion ever since Director General Shinomiya took a special interest in her and her abilities, there was no denying that something inside her snapped. She would still rest her head on your shoulder every once in a while when you occupied the baths, and you could find the semblance of her tender, younger self, her lips curved to a small smile at times before she eventually shook it off.

"Does it get tiring?" You once asked her as you sank into the warm baths yourself before the fatigue from today's training further settled in your bones. You could tell that a sigh wanted to leave her lips, but she shook her head instead. "It does, but... knowing everyone gets a night of restful sleep is worth it."

What frustrated you wasn't the fact that she overtook you. It was the fact that she had to be at the top all alone.

They called you a burning star. You reached your prime way too early and burned out fast— and eventually condemned yourself to a fate of mediocrity, never overcoming the wall that both saved you from crashing even deeper and slugged your growth.

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 47%

It was always the same result for the last few years. You try not to look crestfallen when you hear Okonogi encouraging you through your comms. It was no wonder you hit a dead end as a platoon leader. They say people your age should be more accomplished— perhaps a vice-captain... But you didn't dare aspire. Aspiring was for dreamers, and more ideally and realistically, for those just starting out in the force. Old-timers like you don't get to dream anymore.

"I'm not fooling anyone... It's been years since I had my shot at a promotion. I'm not getting any better, either..."

You didn't understand why you were so hung up on the whole thing, either. Ebina was content with how things were, or at least he tried to be... But you would both be lying to yourselves if you said outright that you didn't feel the least bit threatened by the rising stars of the Third Division.

On a particularly warm night, while everyone else was already at rest, you reflected on the events of the day on the base rooftop, your can of black coffee nearly drained as a sigh that gradually turned into a grumble escaped your lips.

"Hmm. Maybe I should consider that fox-faced Vice-Captain's joke and retire early. Even though I know he doesn't mean it... But 30 is way too late to get married, no matter how I look a—"

You were so deep into your self-loathing that you didn't notice the new recruit approach you with his own canned drink in hand. "What? Are you planning on getting married, Platoon Leader?"

"Gah! O-Officer Hibino! Where did you—"

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to ponder a bit but I heard you, uh, talking," Kafka said with a crooked smile and hands raised in defence. "What're you saying, though? Don't you know how much skill it takes to raise your combat power to that level? Let alone maintain it..."

"Maintaining combat power is one thing, but not being able to grow any stronger is another. Every single one of the new recruits is eager to skyrocket to great heights. I'm sure you're no different, seeing as you want to... to stand next to the Captain if I heard you right the last time," you stated with a clenched fist, the coffee can only slightly crumpling in your hand. "Personally, I feel like I've... stopped growing a long time ago. Platoon Leader is all I'll ever achieve and I..."

I feel so pathetic.

"Does it really matter? Where you stand and all... Ranks are good and all, but I think carrying yourself with pride is more important," he answered you without missing a beat. There was a shine in his eyes you hadn't seen in a long time. "I know everyone calls you a burning star, but that's not what I heard from the Vice-Captain and Min— Captain Ashiro."

Hope.

"The Third Division stands because of its pillars, but cornerstones like you are important, too. The Captain referred to you as such," Kafka stated with the same crooked yet comforting smile. You've only had a handful of interactions with him, but you confirmed soon enough that he had a kindness that seemed to melt away your worries. "Besides, a burning star is still a star. It's still a dazzling celestial body, regardless of what people say about it, regardless of how burned out it is."

You had to admit that he was pretty cute, too. Then again, Tae would point out that you've always had a weakness for hard workers, so it was only a matter of time before your stupid crush was discovered— Who the hell does this guy think he is? Giving me hope, of all things.

He was a burning star, too, but he burned so bright that you couldn't look away. Maybe he wasn't a burning star. Maybe he was a beacon. Either way... A burning star is still a star. He said it himself.

"Don't retire just yet, Platoon Leader. You're a cornerstone, after all. The Captain needs you still. Besides, don't you want to see us new recruits storm the floor at missions?"

Hope was the last thing on your mind, but Kafka had an abundance of that shine in his eyes that made it hard to look away.

"Soshiro-kun was right about you," you said with a small smile closely followed by a sigh of defeat. "You're way too upbeat for someone who's only at 1%!"

— The Raid on Tachikawa Base

"Tell me something good, Konomi-chan. How's everyone else on the field at the moment?"

"Platoon Leader! You—"

You could sense the shock in Okonogi's voice even through your slightly garbled comms.

"Y-Your unleashed combat power is—!"

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 53%

While that wasn't exponential growth, that was still growth. The first of its kind you've had in years.

"A-Are you okay, Platoon Leader? Your heart rate is increasing!"

"I-I'm fine, Konomi-chan!" You stammered right back, an uncharacteristic flush on your face that your subordinates swiftly took notice of. They hardly had the chance to tease you about it when you groaned to yourself as you fiddled with your firearm. "What the hell am I getting all worked up for?..."

Your combat suit made you feel steamy all over, the heat reaching your joints anew. The surplus of power coursed through your every vein and fibre and made you surprisingly tactless. "I'm hardly at her level!"

Right from the start, you knew that you were competing with a monolith. A phantom from the past... and the present. Mina wasn't your competition. You made that clear to each other from the start. But when you remember the unusual smile that graced her face for a single moment when Kafka gatecrashed the Presentation of Enlistment Certificate Ceremony with that stupid declaration of his—

You were competing with the shadow of the Captain of the Third Division in this stupid thing called love, of all things!

The static in your comms cleared up, followed by Kafka's voice filling your ears, his tone both solid and encouraging, filling you with hope once more.

"Platoon Leader! Don't compare yourself to her! Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Just remember that you're Captain Ashiro's cornerstone! You cover for her in places she can't reach, right?!"

Static, again, before Okonogi sends out a command for your platoon.

"We'll need you on the field soon, Platoon Leader! On the Vice-Captain's order!"

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 54%

"Let's get to work, then!" You declared to your subordinates with a smile that did not suit the situation. But seeing your improved numbers filled them with the same hope that theirs will rise, too. "How could I forget that burning star's still a star?"