#Sorry by the by - Strife is what I might have him be called when he moves in with Karl since Venom is him and Eddie combined

[ministerofchaosabsolute]

Venny/Symby/Strifey

[star--stilinski]

I would absolutely LOVE to request a buzzcut stiles smut omg😭

If you are comfortable and if this is not too much detail could you write something about Stiles being insecure of his buzzcut thinking it makes him unattractive but when he tells his other bsf/reader she’s like flabbergasted and tells him how hot it makes him and it makes him all cocky. Then he’d probably like ask her is she’s serious and when she says yes finally act on his feelings. Maybe soft smut? If that is okay

HALLELUIAH YES GAWDDDD i love this sm omg

☆

stiles frowns at his reflection. scott is ranting in the school bathroom again, but it's all stuff stiles has already heard before and he's distracted anyway. he runs an absent hand over his short hair before following a still-rambling scott out of the bathroom and down the hall.

it's been getting on his nerves lately, how slow his hair is growing. he thought it was pretty cool at first, until he was slapped in the face with the reality of his best friend getting girls left and right and leaving stiles completely dry. not that it's scott's fault- he's just easy to get jealous of with this kind of thing.

"dude, are you even listening?" scott abruptly stops and whirls on stiles. "you've been dead silent for, like, three minutes."

"yeah, i heard you. but it's a little hard to care about your girlfriend strife when she actively wants to sleep with you. speaking of,"

allison is leaning against a locker, watching scott with a dreamy look. she waves and smiles softly, leaving scott to return the smile-wave combo with a lot less charisma.

"listen," stiles sighs, trying to keep the bite of envy out of his tone, "you probably just need to talk to her. girls love confidence. just, i dunno," he waves wildly with his hands. "do that."

scott squints at him. "i think that might be the worst advice you've ever given me."

"worse than killing derek?"

"possibly. now, i'm gonna go-" scott throws a look towards allison and swallows thickly, "figure that out. i'll see you."

stiles calls after him; "don't be an idiot! remember i'm living vicariously through you right now!"

once scott and allison are far enough down the hall, he rubs a hand over his hair again and huffs. stupid, stupid freshman stiles and his bad hair decisions.

"you're gonna rub right through your skull."

"GAH!" stiles jumps back from you, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. you laugh at him behind your hand, looking up through your pretty lashes. "jesus, your footsteps are like feathers. i need to put a bell on you."

that makes you frown, shoulder-checking him as you start walking. "you're just not used to anything other than two-left-feet scott mccall. i have perfectly regular footsteps."

he jogs to catch up with you as you make your way to the school parking lot, eyeing your choice of shorts. your legs being out is a big plus for his racing mind today.

"hey, you busy today? scott ditched me to go play loverbirds and i don't want to do my homework." he hums, pushing one of the heavy doors open and letting you through.

"hmm, that depends, do you have food at your house?"

"not even a little," he smirks at the almost-yes as you both trot through the empty lot towards his jeep. "that's why we're getting drive thru."

"who's paying?"

"who do you think?"

you cheer excitedly as he unlocks the jeep.

☆

you're sat criss-cross on stiles' bed as he paces, tracking his movement with your eyes. he's on a tangent about scott, actually, and how his decision-making skills are subpar. you're listening intently with a tilted head, watching his hands flex as he talks, and the way his biceps bulge without his flannel on, and how his jawline is so sharp-

"and girls are confusing, y'know? sorry, no offense, it's just-" this catches your attention, making your eyes flit up to his as they dart around the room. "it's just that you're all so... so... what do you guys even want? can't be money, because scott has a girlfriend. can't be personality, because jackson has a girlfriend. definitely can't be looks, because i'm pretty sure greenburg is going out with abby right now."

he sighs and turns on you, taking a dangerous step closer to the bed. his brow is upturned, eyes pleading, lips parted.

"it's this stupid buzzcut, isn't it?"

you blink, just once, before squinting. "what?"

"my hair, it's so-" he pushes a frustrated hand through it, and his jaw clenches. "so not hot."

and when he says it, with his narrowed eyes all sharp and his pink lips pressed together, you think for a moment he must be joking. "...what?"

he turns his glare onto you. "you know what i mean, okay? it's unattractive, it must be. i mean, i go completely unnoticed-"

"wait, you actually mean to tell me you think your buzzcut is ugly?"

stiles huffs, clearly not liking the bluntness of his feelings being laid out. "that it makes me ugly, yeah."

this makes you pause. maybe you're a minority, but when stiles drives his jeep and starts talking fast about something nerdy, you imagine climbing into his lap and making him crash the car. one time you two were arguing while he was in his lacrosse uniform and you genuinely wanted to offer to suck his dick. and even right now, with his too-tight t-shirt and his frustrated face, you want to ask him to take his frustration out on you... in- in a hot way. you may have gone a little far with that one-

"would you stop looking at me like that?" he snips, eyes darting over your whole face and then your body like he's looking for the off switch. you frown up at where he stands.

"like what? i'm just in disbelief."

he rolls his eyes. "like you're gonna tackle me. it's weird, after what i just told you."

"well, maybe i do want to tackle you." oh shit, that was supposed to stay in your head! quick, make it look like it was on purpose! "the buzzcut doesn't make you ugly."

his face screws up in confusion. "well, then, what does it make me?"

"hot."

you both kinda falter, like there's nowhere to go from here. his mouth gapes open and you watch his cheeks grow pinker, much similar to your own. and since you've already dug the hole and he doesn't seem too bothered, you make it an inch or two deeper.

"you're pretty hot, stiles. i mean, you hang around scott and stay in your room, so it's not like you're around enough girls for them to tell you. and you never ask me, so... that's probably why you're unaware."

he gapes at you, a hand going to his hair like it has a whole new purpose to him. "i didn't know asking you was an option...."

"apparently it is." you shrug. your oversized t-shirt and shorts suddenly seem not pretty enough for where this conversation seems to be going, but it's too late to linger on that thought now. anyway, his eyes are on you like sniper lasers... or something... and he takes another step closer to you.

"okay, um... i'm asking you."

you raise your eyebrows. what, he just wants you to lament on how sexy he is? you're not that easy, he's probably going to use that information to chase the skirts of some long, skinny-legged girl at school. besides, there's not even that much to-

"please." he hums.

you swallow, turning your face away from him. "okay, well, you've got the whole secretly smart guy thing going on. and your nose is really nice. mix that with the way your eyes are...-"

"my eyes are what?"

you glance up to glare at his impatience. he tilts his head at you, and you swear you can see a mischievous glint in those stupid, stupid (aggravatingly sexy) eyes. bastard.

"they're, um, provocative. when you're frustrated. or focused." you turn your eyes awayyyy from his reaction, for your own safety. "and your jaw is nice, so. plus your hands-"

"my hands?"

"are you gonna keep interrupting me? 'cause i'll stop." you gripe up at him, but looking back up was a big mistake. his cheeks are tinted pink but his mouth is quirked up into a knowing little smirk, like your embarrassment is suddenly clay for him to play with. yeah, no. you are not getting stuck in this position with stiles. "okay, yeah, that's enough."

"no, nonononono wait." he crosses the rest of the distance to crouch in front of the bed, looking up at you. "i'm sorry. i'm just not used to this. or you, like this." his hand rests atop your knee. "i won't even react. keep going, just a bit?"

you pout and look at his hand as his thumb rubs back and forth on your bare skin. it's warm and relaxing and makes your whole body burn hot when his hand inches up your thigh just barely. you look back up at him, but his face is earnest, promising. you sigh.

"your buzzcut makes you look good."

his eyebrows inch up his forehead.

"really good."

stiles grins.

☆

you're not really sure if you left stiles' house or escaped it, after that. all you know is that last night did some serious damage to your ego... and some serious maintenance to his. as you leave school, your mind replays the series of events and the blush that has been plaguing your cheeks and making you overheat returns.

dammit! you had to avoid stiles all day because of this stupid embarrassment. which proved difficult, since you guys had plenty of classes together and ate lunch with each other every day since forever. you slap your cheeks as you shoulder your way past the school doors and into the parking lot, glancing over at the field where lacrosse practice is in full swing.

your eyes catch on something odd, and coach's voice fades into the background when the image registers in your mind. stiles is leaning on the fence with his helmet in hand, sweat making his skin glow and a cocky look on his face. he's leaned over the fence, chatting up three soccer girls, who all seem very interested in whatever he's saying.

this, unfortunately, does not make you happy. but alas, what are you going to do? pull him away by the ear and chastise him for... talking to girls? you just wish you hadn't said anything about his stupid buzzcut (which looks unrealistically good with his lacrosse uniform).

all three of the girls throw their heads back laughing. and it's not even, like, pretty girl flirtatious laughter. it's loud, and one of the girls slaps her friend's arm. you want to rip the arm off.

but you keep walking instead, because you decided the bus was too much and walking home was the best option. better than standing in the parking lot, staring like a creep as your best friend (who you want to messy-make-out with) finally gets girls (who you want dead).

this is going to be a pathetic walk home.

you barely get to the end of the parking lot when you hear stiles shout your name as loud as he can.

part of you wants to stomp your feet and cry, or ignore him (as if the echo didn't reverberate off of the school building), or flip him off. like a middle schooler. because right now, you don't want to deal with the humiliation of telling stiles (through mumbles and attitude) how hot he is and how badly you want him to fuck you into his mattress, only for him to use you as matchmaker for hotter, more experienced girls.

but you're not a child, and he's still your best friend. plus, his lacrosse uniform.... yum.

jesus christ, you need a drink. there is no way that thought just consciously happened.

you drag your feet walking back, and the soccer girls skip off with their ponytails swinging. stiles is smiling all big and bright when you finally reach him. you are not smiling at all. "you needed me?"

"yeah, i wanted to know if you were coming over tonight." he stands taller than you, and his buzzcut looks so touchable right now, you want to bend him down to your level and run your fingers through it. you blink up at him as you stare, and the silence stretches. his hand comes up to the back of his neck. "uhh, just 'cause i could help you with the homework we skipped yesterday-" he interrupts himself. "are you okay?"

"i'm fine. for both. the homework and the question." you press your thumb into your palm and turn towards the lacrosse field, away from his searching eyes and worried lips. "see you tomorrow, yeah?"

you start to back away from him when he steps forward, the fence catching him from coming closer to you. "well i just- you should come over. i want you to."

"stiles, i can't wait for lacrosse practice to end-"

"i'll skip. they don't even need me." he clenches his jaw when you look back at him. there's a determination in his eyes you've never seen directed at you, and it makes your stomach flip. you've never fell victim to being his prey before, when he wants something so he gets it. the feeling is unrivaled. his lips part. "please."

you can feel your cheeks flush. why does that always have to work on you?

"okay, alright, no need to beg." you nod your head to his jeep, on the far side of the parking lot. "let's go."

he does a subtle fist pump that he doesn't think you see, and hops the fence to follow you, leaving literally everything in the locker room except his car keys. "how was your day?"

you glance up at him, but only for a second when you see how he's staring. all curious and excited, probably from the attention he was getting from those soccer girls. your lips press together in distaste before you even realize.

"it was fine." you shrug, watching as he gets ahead of you to open the passenger door. "got an A on mrs. martin's project."

stiles hums in approval, which may or may not make your lower stomach fizz with butterflies. then he closes your door and makes the short jog to his side, clambering inside. "good job. you hungry?"

you shake your head as he pulls out of the parking lot, doing your best to ignore the vein in his neck when he looks over his shoulder as he backs out, hand resting on your seat. yeah, you totally don't notice that. "no thanks, i'm okay."

"are you sure? i didn't see you at lunch. or english. or-"

"i wasn't feeling well today."

this shuts him up, but not in a good way. you feel his eyes on you, even as he drives, and it makes you squirm a bit. but he doesn't comment on your icy tone, and you drive the rest of the way in silence.

☆

in fact, you're silent all the way up to his room, where you toss your bag in the corner and toe your shoes off. stiles huffs out a sigh and scrubs over his buzzcut self-consciously, tracking you with his eyes as you trail aimlessly around his room and admire the things on his walls.

he's been dying to ask it. he has to. the girls on the soccer team said... he squeezes his eyes shut while you're turned away, repeating what they said to him in his head for nth time. just be honest, and confident. that's what you'd want.

stiles takes bold strides across the room right up to you. he gives you enough room to turn around and face him, but not much more.

"hey."

you scrunch your face up just a bit in confusion. "...hi?"

he clears his throat, his jaw flexing on it's own accord. "the...- okay, when you said my buzzcut makes me look really good-"

"stiles," you scoff and push past him, walking to the middle of his room as a means of escape. "i'm not doing this with you."

"no, wait, doing what?" he scurries around you to face you again, holding you lightly by the shoulders. "waitwaitwait. you gotta let me-"

"no. stop." you're embarrassed, he can tell now. the way you turn your face away and narrow your brow, he never knew he'd be able to read you so well. but he's doing it now, and he's not happy with what he's seeing.

"no, you stop. let me ask you what i want to ask, alright?" he huffs through his nose, and watches as you seem to come to attention. it gives him an odd thrill to see you react so readily when he corrects you. "are you gonna listen to me?"

you glare up at him for a second too long before nodding slowly. he nods too, and in a impatient, annoyed tone, he grumbles: "good."

and then stiles watches your eyes flicker as you fluster much more than he expected. he didn't think much of the words when he was saying them, but here you both are, weirdly into it. he blinks hard to clear his head.

"when you said my buzzcut makes me look 'really good'," he repeats, "did you mean really good to you or to other people?"

he feels you shift your weight by the movement of your shoulders. looking away, you hum, "i don't understand why this is important to you."

stiles narrows his eyes. "yes you do. you know you're into me and you just wont say it."

you snap your eyes to his and take a challenging step forward. "who said i'm into you? just because i said you're good looking doesn't mean you get to use me as some matchmaking machine. i won't inflate your ego just so you can hook up with popular girls, stiles. you can't-"

"i'm not asking so you can inflate my ego." stiles takes a step towards you, making you step back. "i'm asking because i want to know if you were serious." another step. "because i want you to think that about me." another step, and your back hits the wall.

you watch, doe eyed, as stiles brings a hand up to push some of your hair away from your face. his eyes meet yours, but dip down when your lips part. he swallows.

"so," stiles hums, towering over you. "were you being serious?"

stiles watches in awe as your pretty mouth forms around his new favorite word.

"yes."

he half expects himself to tear both of your clothes off and go wild. but his body moves on its own accord; taking your face gently in his hands, kissing you like you're made of glass. when you reciprocate eagerly, he feels his pants start to strain. fuck. seriously? can you please pretend you've had at least some action before?

he can't believe he has to talk his dick down when he's kissing you.

pressing you back up against his bedroom wall, he feels goosebumps rise as your nails rake lightly over his buzz, and it makes him hum. stiles gently removes one hand from the curve of your jaw and slides it onto your hip instead. he loves your hips. he loves them even more when his hands are on them, apparently, because the feeling of it is otherworldly.

what's even better, though, is when your tongue collides with his and you let out a small noise. it's high-pitched and whiney, and it almost makes him finish prematurely. he licks eagerly into your mouth to try and draw it out of you again, but you seem to silence yourself from embarrassment. this does not fly with stiles. his knee draws forward and splits your thighs apart, resting in between them, and he moves down to kiss at your neck. he'll make you whine again, he's sure of it.

"wait," you breathe out. he almost doesn't catch it, too busy with the way your skin feel on his lips and how he has you up against his wall, breathless and pliant. but he pulls back (albeit reluctantly) and meets your dazed look with one of his own.

"what? is this okay? do you wanna stop?" he might actually die on the spot if you want to stop. but he'd do it, for you. his hand massages your hip where he's got you gently pinned, and he watches as it visibly makes you sway (swoon, but you'd never admit that).

"no, no. but, your dad-"

"he's out."

"he could get home anytime."

"we can be quick. we don't have to do anything more than this right now."

"stiles," you're laughing at him. it's airy, and mostly just a teasing smile, but you're still laughing at him. "are you just saying that to get me in your bed? i mean..."

your thigh, which is in between his because of his being in between yours, slides up and presses lightly against his hard-on. his jaw goes slack as the unexpected pressure washes pleasure all over his nerves, and his shoulders bend over for a moment as his hips react on their own. he stops himself, thoroughly embarrassed, and glares at you. you giggle behind your hand, raising an eyebrow. "how're you gonna say you don't want anything below the collar with that going on?"

he pushes your thigh away, shaking his head. "i never said i didn't want anything more, i said we don't have to do anything more. plus, you're the one making the noises and touching me and... so, if anything, this isn't even my fault." stiles gestures vaguely to his dick.

"i'm flattered." you deadpan, before your hand trails from his chest to his stomach. he watches in awe, still half disbelieving that he got you here. you hook your fingers into his waistband and look up at him. "promise your dad wont walk in on us?"

"can you not talk about my dad while turning me on?" he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. "swear on my life, you have nothing to worry about."

you nod and lean back against the wall, tugging him by his pants to meet you there. he follows suit, lining his body against yours as he kisses you, hands on your hips with yours running through his buzz. he captures your lower lip in his teeth and gently as he can, and you make another short, high-pitched noise again. his dick twitches in his pants.

"you wanna, um," you suck in a breath as he kisses your neck, "move to the bed?"

"yes," he sighs, and immediately pulls your hips forward and directs you to his bed. when you drop onto it and scoot back, stiles hesitates. your hair is a bit messy, lips are full, and your eyes have a glint in them he's never seen before. he's assaulted with the thought of you being his wife and having his kids and growing old and dying together, and then he blinks it away. jesus christ, you're a powerful woman.

he wants to do anything to make you look like this all the time. needy, pretty, all your insecurities and doubts kissed right off of your lips, even if it's just for a bit. is this what being horny is going to be like for him now? is he gonna be a sap when you want to fuck?

stiles crawls over you slowly, laying you back against his pillows. you're excited and it shows, and you're both smiling when he kisses you this time.

☆

he's a mess for days after, head full of the faces you make when he touches you just right, the noises coming from your mouth when you finish. the feeling of skin on skin, the picture perfect look of you wearing his shirt after. it takes scott about two and a half seconds to scrunch up his nose and make a disgusted face at stiles when he starts thinking it. your beauty is just seeping out of him, like he soaked you up and now every werewolf in a one hundred mile radius can smell the lovesick puppy on him.

you want to go on dates, too. real ones, all the time, and you think he's hot and cute and sometimes pretty, which is confusing to him but he likes it anyway. and he wants to save up his money so he can take you to a fancy restaurant. and he is so whipped.

which he's fine with. as long as it's for you. honestly, he's fine with almost anything, as long as it's for you.

☆

i didn't write smut and i apologize but my writing process is to blackout while my fingers fly across my keyboard like i'm a hacker spy until i come to and there's a story on the screen. so. smut didn't happen naturally so it ain't gonna happen at all, i guess. i dunno. ask writing star, not editing star. sorry i've been so absent, holidays is super busy with extended family and such. wish me luck. xoxo!!!

☆

BONUS!! stiles asks some poor soccer girls for help before you went to his house after lacrosse practice. the advice is... really somethin'.

"hey, um, lily?" he had to guess the name of the girl jogging past, but he got it right. she stopped and approached him skeptically, glancing at her two friends in front of her.

"yeah?" she threaded her fingers through the fence as he strided the rest of the distance to her. her two friends had begun making their way over as well. she had to squint past the sun as she stared at him. "what's up?"

"hi, hey, we have bio together. fourth period? i've sat behind you all sememster?"

her face showed no recognition.

"...anyway, i have a question. actually, i can ask all three of you. since you're, um, girls."

her two friends had approached at that point, and looked equally as put off by stiles as lily did. he cleared his throat and started on his ramble:

"so, let's say i'm best friends with this girl, and i like her. like, a lot. and she's kinda totally way out of my leauge, but we never talk about it because she doesn't see things like that anyway. and one day i get on a rant about girls and how confusing they are because, y'know," he gestured to his face like it was a tell of itself, "and she says that my biggest insecurity- err, physically- is actually really hot. and she says my hands are sexy. and my eyes are seductive. and she's like, kinda blushing a lot? but she blushes anyway about stuff around me so it doesn't really-"

"she likes you." one of lily's friends piped up behind her. "if that's what you're asking."

"are you sure? i'm not her type, plus-"

"dude," sighed the other one. the three girls shared a look, making stiles gulp. "girls don't call guys' hands sexy unless they're dying to have them in their mouth."

"mazie!" lily whirled around to slap her friend's shoulder, which did absolutely nothing to censor her. when she turned back to stiles, it was apologetically. "sorry, but she's got a point."

he slumped onto the fence in relief. "you think so? i want to put my hands in her mouth, if she's asking for that."

"nice." mazie nodded as the other two girls made noises of disgust. ignoring them, mazie continued. "honestly, she probably likes you but thinks you don't like her. especially if you're chatting up three soccer girls, looking like that."

the only girl stiles hadn't gotten the name of nodded solemly, and lily put her hands on her hips, determined. "okay, skinhead. how're you gonna confess?"

stiles smiles awkwardly. "uh, i'll just tell her when she comes over tonight?"

lily barked out a laugh, and her two friends followed suit. it was loud, like three crows making fun of him while they toss their heads back. it ended abruptly, too, and lily glared daggers at him in the silence. "no, idiot."

stiles whimpered a little "oh."

"girls love confidence." the unnamed girl declared, tilting her head. "when i flirt with girls i always make them like, say how hot i am. always gets them going."

"god," lily scrunched her nose, "are you both ovulating? we do not need to know all of that."

"so... what should i do?" stiles blinked at them, and they refocused their attention on him.

"be confident. be honest. that's always a rare, and hot, trait in a guy." lily said, before her eyes roved over him analytically. "anyway, you're attractive. it'll be fine."

"he's attractive?" the unnamed girl said, making all three of them laugh again. lily slapped her arm, and stiles let himself get distracted as his eye caught on someone walking across the parking lot.

oh, it's you.

his body feels a bit warmer, buzzing with nervous energy, as he shouts your name.

☆

[ellenhghg]

I hope its alright to request something? But hear me out!! Reader has a secret pole in her room at the ShinRa HQ (she can be a SOLDIER, Ancient or whatever) and also a honeybee costume. Well one day she finds herself stuck to the pole with handcuffs behind her and calls either Cloud or Sephiroth (you choose who you like to write for) to help her. Like what would be their reaction to the call? Btw I really love how accurate you write all of them I am soooo starved for more!!!!!! <3333

Yess keep requesting away! I wrote one for Cloud and Sephiroth since this was really fun to write. I really hope you like it! Also everything between «» are thoughts, thought that would be a cute touch. And Pre Nibelheim Thank you soo much for your love!! ♥♥

♡‧₊˚ Cloud: Cloud blinks as his PHS buzzes insistently, the ringtone he chose for you blaring tinny and shrill in the locker room. He fumbles for the device, nearly dropping it in his haste.

«The hell…? Y/N never calls me unless it's an emergency… or she's tryin' to rope me into another one of her crazy schemes.»

Dread pooling in his gut, Cloud flips open the PHS, bracing himself for the worst.

"Hello? Y/N, what's—"

"CLOUD! THANK GAIA!"

Cloud winces, yanking the PHS away from his ear as your panicked shout nearly bursts his enhanced eardrums. His brow furrows, a spike of worry lancing through him at the barely-restrained hysteria in your voice.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"NO I'M NOT OKAY!"

There's a scuffling sound, followed by a metallic clang and a string of muffled curses. Cloud's eyes widen, his mind immediately jumping to the worst case scenario.

"Are you under attack?! Where are you?! I swear to Shiva, if someone's hurt you, I'll—"

"What? NO! No no no, nothing like that!"

Your voice is strained, tinged with embarrassment and a hint of… is that laughter? Cloud blinks, confusion momentarily overriding his panic.

"…Okay, so what's with the screaming? You nearly gave me a heart attack, woman!"

"Sorry, sorry! I just… Gaia, this is so embarrassing…"

You take a deep breath, the sound crackling down the line. When you speak again, your voice is small, almost sheepish.

"I, uh… I might have gotten myself into a bit of a situation. With the, um… the pole in my room."

Cloud's brain stalls, trying to process this new information. Pole? What pole? Why would you have a—

Oh. OH.

Suddenly, the pieces click into place - the Honeybee Inn costume he'd glimpsed in your closet, the way you'd been humming those catchy burlesque tunes under your breath, the mysterious 'dance lessons' you'd been sneaking off to for weeks…

«Sweet Shiva on a stick. She's been learning to pole dance. POLE DANCE.»

Cloud's face flushes bright red, a strangled noise escaping his throat. He clears it hastily, trying to will away the sudden rush of blood to his… ahem, nether regions.

"You, uh… You got stuck? On the pole?"

He cringes at the way his voice cracks, high and thready with barely-restrained panic. Gaia, could this BE any more awkward?!

"…Maybe? I mean, definitely. Definitely stuck. Very stuck."

Your voice is a mortified whimper, muffled like you've got your face buried in your hands… or the crook of your elbow, if Cloud's mental image is accurate.

«Okay, Strife, keep it together. Y/N needs your help, not your horny teenage daydreams! Focus!»

Taking a deep, calming breath, Cloud forces himself to think past the haze of embarrassment and… other feelings he's not quite ready to examine.

"Alright, just… hang tight, okay? I'll be there in five. Don't move!"

A beat of silence, then a snort.

"…Really, Cloud? 'Don't move'? I'm literally stuck to a pole!"

"You know what I mean!"

Face burning, Cloud snaps the PHS shut, already moving towards the door. He pointedly ignores Zack's raised eyebrow and knowing grin, shouldering past his friend with a growled "Not a word, Fair. Not. A. Word."

He's out the door and halfway down the hall before Zack can even open his mouth, enhanced speed carrying him towards your room in record time.

«Hang on, Y/N. I'm comin'. Just… try not to do anything else stupid 'til I get there, alright?»

And if his mind happens to conjure up a few tantalizing images of the predicament he might find you in, well… he's only human, right? Er, SOLDIER. Whatever.

«Gaia help me, I am so screwed…»

♡‧₊˚ Sephiroth: The harsh buzzing of his PHS jolts Sephiroth out of his paperwork-induced trance. He frowns, glancing at the caller ID with a mix of annoyance and trepidation.

«Y/N? She never calls me directly unless it's an emergency…»

Suppressing a sigh, he flips open the device, bracing himself for whatever chaos you've managed to stir up this time.

"Y/N. To what do I owe the—"

"SEPH! THANK GAIA YOU PICKED UP!"

Sephiroth winces, pulling the PHS away from his ear as your panicked shout threatens to rupture his enhanced eardrums. His brow furrows, a spike of concern lancing through him at the barely-restrained hysteria in your voice.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"NO! No I'm not alright! I'm— Gaia, this is so embarrassing…"

You trail off, a muffled thump and clatter echoing down the line. Sephiroth's grip tightens on the PHS, his mind already conjuring worst-case scenarios.

"Are you in danger? Do you need backup? Give me your location and I'll—"

"What? NO! No no no, nothing like that! I just… ugh, I can't believe I'm about to say this…"

You take a deep breath, the sound crackling through the speaker. When you speak again, your voice is small, tinged with mortification.

"I'm stuck."

Sephiroth blinks, certain he must have misheard. "…Stuck."

"Yes! Stuck! As in, I physically cannot move from my current position!"

"…I see. And what, pray tell, is your current position?"

There's a long, telling silence. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper:

"…I'm handcuffed to my pole dancing pole. In my Honeybee Inn costume."

For a moment, Sephiroth's brain short-circuits, unable to process this new information. You… pole dancing… Honeybee Inn costume… handcuffs…

«…I don't get paid enough for this.»

Closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on. Of all the ridiculous, irresponsible things to do…

"Let me get this straight," he says slowly, enunciating each word with careful precision. "You, in all your infinite wisdom, decided it would be a good idea to play dress-up as a Honeybee girl and practice your, ahem, 'dance moves'… and somehow managed to get yourself handcuffed to your own pole. Is that about right?"

"…Maybe?"

Sephiroth sighs, long and deep, the sound reverberating through the phone line. "…Dare I ask how you even acquired a pole dancing pole in the first place?"

"I thought it would be a fun workout!"

He can practically HEAR the pout in your voice, the unspoken plea for understanding. It takes every ounce of his SOLDIER discipline not to bang his head against the desk.

«Gaia grant me strength… and a bottle of Junon's finest whiskey.»

With a herculean effort, Sephiroth forces down the urge to lecture, keeping his voice carefully neutral as he speaks.

"I see. And the handcuffs?"

"…I thought they'd add a little extra challenge?"

«Of course you did. Why am I even surprised at this point?»

Sephiroth drags a hand down his face, silently counting backwards from ten in every language he knows. It's a technique Genesis taught him, back in their early days as SOLDIERs.

«One day, that man's questionable 'stress relief' methods might actually come in handy. Miracles do happen, I suppose.»

"Alright," he says at last, resigned to his fate as your perpetual rescuer. "I assume you called me because you need assistance extricating yourself from this… predicament?"

"Yes please! I tried calling Cloud but he's not picking up and I'm starting to lose feeling in my—"

"Y/N."

He cuts you off before you can finish that thought, a muscle ticking in his jaw. The absolute LAST mental image he needs right now is Strife ogling your half-naked form.

Shoving down the irrational surge of overprotectiveness (and the FAR more disturbing flicker of jealousy), Sephiroth forces his voice into some semblance of calm professionalism.

"I'll be there shortly. Just… try not to make the situation any worse in the meantime."

"…How could it POSSIBLY get any wor—"

"Don't. Tempt. Fate."

He snaps the PHS shut before you can respond, already rising from his desk with a bone-deep weariness. The stack of reports will have to wait. He has a certain someone to rescue… again.

«The things I do for you, I swear… You're going to be the death of me one day.»

But even as the thought crosses his mind, Sephiroth can't quite suppress the tiny, traitorous spark of warmth in his chest. Exasperating as you may be, you're still the closest thing he has to family.

«And family looks out for each other… even when one of them is an absolute disaster of a human being.»

With a rueful shake of his head, Sephiroth strides out of his office, already mentally cataloguing the fastest route to your quarters. With any luck, he can have you untangled and decent before anyone else catches wind of this latest misadventure.

But he'll weather it, like he always does. Because that's what you do for the people you love… even when they drive you absolutely insane.

For now, he has a damsel in (self-inflicted) distress to save

[silverflqmes]

agszc and the flowers they'd give as well as why they would give them?

໒⦂ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄.

notes. hey queen, my knowledge in flowers is baby level but!!! we’re gonna see which flowers the boys would give based on themselves and their love<3

genre. fluff

for @melukonova <3

ft. sephiroth, cloud strife, zack fair, genesis rhapsodos, angeal hewley

gender neutral! reader.

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ you selected.. orchid.

+ reasoning. orchids come in a variety of symbols next to the obvious luxury and beauty, such as strength, mystery — even charm and refinement. more importantly, they bring across how lucky you are to be able to love your special someone.

+ sephiroth had always thought himself to be deplorable for as long as he could remember. growing up, he had countless reminders of how unloveable he was even in spite of shinra’s hero treatment of him. when he met you, however, somehow you had brought this ray of light into his suffocating darkness and had loved him in spite of everything. he was just so lucky to have you in his life — it was imperative he showed you his gratitude. and so, from the many books he read in his days, he’d decided that gifting your orchids was the best way.

+ “it took awhile to find you these, given the state of midgar.. but the search was worth the while. as i recall.. lovers gift one another flowers as an expression of affection, do they not?”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ you selected.. gardenia.

+ reasoning. gardenia is the type of flower you would use to confess when the words don’t quite reach your lips. basically, an unspoken confession to convey your love. furthermore, it represents purity and expresses beauty towards the receiver.

+ cloud strife.. was never really the best with words, feelings and emotional expression. he preferred to think of himself as an actions kind of guy, and his confession to you boiled down to exactly that. with all the worst behind him, and the whisper of advice from his parted friends, he would have set out one morning to sector five to purchase a few gardenias. flowers and their meanings didn’t come easy to him, but the words he’d received told him these were the ones. the blond’s only hope was that his message would be received and returned.

+ “here, got these for you on the way back from my delivery, they’re um.. gardenias. make sure to change their water every other day or so, if you want them to last, of course..”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ you selected.. daisy.

+ reasoning. daisies represent an innocent, cheerful and pure form of love. the kind of flowers you would pick fresh from the garden or a patch of grass to bring to the person you cherish most. they can also express true love, beauty and simplicity.

+ zack fair was true to his nickname — a puppy. despite his want for leaving the countryside to join SOLDIER, the days he would spend back home were all filled with memories that he would forever carry with him. a few that stood out most were the times he’d race up to you with a handful of daisies. despite their messy condition, and the apology he would laugh out for tripping on his way to you, his actions are filled with sincerity and love.. even if zack might not know what he’s given to you. with time, however, he will have realized the depth of his gifts.

+ “ahaha, sorry y/n! i didn’t see this rock on my way over, and i might have ruined the flowers a bit.. but they still smell nice! and i tried to salvage the good ones, y’see! peak condition!”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ you selected.. aster.

+ reasoning. asters, according to myth were associated with a goddess that wept because there weren’t enough stars. the tears that fell became the star shaped flowers we call asters. on the contrary, they symbolize love, charm and sensitivity.

+ genesis rhapsodos — born poet, forced to soldier. flowers and their meanings didn’t fall far from the tree for a man with vast knowledge of the arts, literature and beauty. as someone with a keen interest in loveless, having analyzed and noted it to memory, asters came to be his first choice in conveying his love for you. the gift of the goddess, he would have concluded, and a perfect fit for the one who has captured his heart — you. and so, on his way back from a mission, a singular aster would have occupied his red, gloved hand as he presented it to you.

+ “a gift from the goddess for my beloved.. as flowers have long since disappeared off the face of midgar, amidst the filth and industrialization. are you pleased with my findings?”

ะ ྂ ❤︎ . ˚˖ you selected.. alstroemeria.

+ reasoning. alstroemerias convey loyalty, devotion, support and.. honor. the type of flower you give to remind someone of their strength when they fall on hard times. but, it is also said that receiving an extra sweet one, meant you were beloved.

+ angeal hewley wasn’t exactly one for frivolous love, a stark contrast otherwise, to his friend. the romance department just never really called his attention.. well, at least until he met you. somehow you sparked feelings in him that he wasn’t sure he was even capable of feeling strongly towards another person. it was strange, different.. but a good kind of different. however there was a downside — that being his lack of experience. his familiarity with romance was minimal, but he was determined to provide! and with outside help, he was acquired flowers.

+ “these are alstroemerias.. a mouthful, i know. but they used to grow back where i grew up, in banora. they said the sweeter ones are best to gift to your beloved — so here you are.”

notes. several hours of research and inconsistent writing later, i was able to finish your request.. love how NOBODY had roses but like anyway, this is the end results for agszc with flowers woop

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[dollcieee]

Finding Fluffy

Platonic! Kid! Cloud Strife x fem! reader <3 Your big sister Tifa recently got a cat!

Tifa and Y/n have been begging for their father to get them a cat for a long time now. When Tifa's twelfth birthday came up, Zander, one of the village elders, decided to give Tifa the white and mischievous kitten Fluffy.

Y/n was so ecstatic to see Tifa carrying a small kitten that she instantly took the cat and ran outside to find it a collar.

She got Fluffy a red bandana, but the kitten jumped out of Y/n's arms and ran off, leaving for Y/n to chase after it.

'Kitty, come back!'

Fluffy was much faster than her. In the end, she couldn't find her. She walked back to their house but stopped when she imagined an image of an angry Tifa scolding her for losing Fluffy.

Y/n started crying heavily and crouched, the ends of her pink sundress touching the ground, covering her face with both of her hands still holding the bandana. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

In the peaceful village of Nibelheim, a now 12-year-old Tifa wanders around the house in search of Y/n, her younger sister. Going out of their house, she finally finds her sister, her back facing Tifa.

"O-oh no.. Fluffy.." Y/n continues to sob while holding the red bandana she was supposed to make Fluffy wear.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Tifa pats her sister's back, concern written onto her face, but Y/n continues to cry, "Hey you can tell me what's wrong, you know" this time Tifa embraces her in a comforting hug.

"Fluffy.." Y/n whispers, trying not to cry anymore, Tifa now notices the absence of their new kitten and looks around and asked "Y/n, Where's Fluffy?" upon asking her that Y/n cries again, holding the bandana tightly this time "I lost her and I d-don't know where she is now *hic an-and I tried lo-looking for her b-but *hic I can't find her Tifa!".

"It's okay, we'll find her together, okay?" Tifa says as she lets go of her and urges Y/n to follow her, "Let's start looking at the village square".

"Wait- Tifa!" Tifa turns around towards her sister, tilting her head in a questioning manner.

"Hold hand" Y/n in a much better mood grabs Tifa's hand and they both go to the village square.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

"You see anything there Y/n?"

"no..."

The Lockhart sisters moved to another place near a trailhead leading to a gate. It's been almost an hour now, but the sisters were determined to find their cat.

"Y/n! I'll go to the other side" Tifa shouted, running to the opposite direction Y/n is currently in.

"Okay!" Y/n shouted back and continued on looking at the bushes.

Y/n flinched when she saw movement in the bigger bushes in front of her. Thinking it might be Fluffy, she sneaked inside the bush to take a peek. She saw nothing except a top of someone's head.

'This one has a very sharp hair' she thought as she called out to whoever this mysterious blond person was, "Hey!" the boy stood up and looked around him surprised by the sudden voice.

"Hey Chocobo head!" She shouted again.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Okay, that actually irked Cloud a little bit. Whoever was calling him should just show themselves to him. He was so close to catching the white cat he's been following.

"Pssst... helloooo over here!" Cloud finally found the voice who's been calling to him, when he looked to where she was his eyes widened when he recognized the face of the girl, it's Tifa's younger sister, Y/n Lockhart.

"What are you doing here?" He started to walk towards Y/n, looking down at her as she tried to stand up properly.

"Your Cloud right?" She asked, patting her dress to remove whatever dirt particle landed in it.

"Yeah, that's me, what do you want?" He asked back, arms crossed to his chest "Well um.. I was hoping that.. By any chance, you saw a white kitty around here?" She looked at the ground and back to Clouds piercing blue eyes.

"I did, I would've caught it by now if it weren't for your shouting" He nonchalantly answered.

"Oh, sorry..hehe" She apologized, a sheepish grin forming on her face, Cloud sighed and started walking away from her.

"Where are you going?" She asked, following him from behind, "To find the cat"

They both walked to the darker part of the forest.

"I hope Fluffys nearby" she whispers to herself, but Cloud hears her.

"Fluffy is the name of the cat?" Cloud asks.

"Yeah.. me and Tifa just got her today, but she just had to run away and I lost her. Now we have to look for her in the middle of the woods" she ranted to Cloud even doing hand motions to prove her statement.  

Cloud just nodded to whatever she said and looked around while walking deeper to the forest, Y/n started to close her distance with Cloud, the dark forest was starting to scare her.

"Stay close, don't worry I know my way here" Cloud exclaims eyes not looking away at the front. Y/n felt a little sense of relief from what he said.

"Do you go here a lot?" She asked, wanting to get to know the loner boy, "Yeah, I find it peaceful here"

Y/n nodded looking at him for a minute, "Why don't you hangout with us next time? I'm sure everyone would've loved to play with you" she continued but before Cloud could even reply a meowing noise can be heard close to them.

"That could be Fluffy-!" Y/n ran, leaving Cloud behind "Wait-" he sighed in frustration but went after her anyway.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

"Y/n you there?" Tifa came back to where she had last seen Y/n, looking around, she doesn't see her little sister. She looked up at the sky, the suns about to go down and they're not close to home.

'Dad must be worried' Tifa thought, looking at the place she had last seen Y/n, she thought about it for a moment and walked into the forest to see if she could spot her sister there.

"Y/n you better be safe.." she whispered to herself.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

"Fluffy! You silly-silly cat!" Y/n carried Fluffy in her arms, hugging the kitten while swaying side by side.

"Meow"

"Don't you 'meow' me, you made me worried.."

"Don't just run *pant* off like that you could've been *pant* hurt.." Cloud scolded while trying to regain his steady breath back, Y/n didn't seem to care as she finally found her sister's cat. In a moment of silence they hear the shouts of Tifa nearby.

"Y/n? Y/n you there? Let's just look for Fluffy tomorrow. It's almost night-time"

"Tifa! We're here! Cloud's here too!" Y/n shouted back, looking at a now stiff postured Cloud, "Cloud, you'kay there?" She asked, leaning close to his face "-yeah I'm fine..".

"Hmm, okay then tomorrow we should-" "I gotta go now, don't tell Tifa anything!" Cloud who's about to sprint stops for a moment and faces Y/n "about earlier I'd like to hangout with you" he runs off to another direction leaving a confused Y/n "Whatta weird kid..".

"Y/n there you are! We should- you found Fluffy!" Tifa said excitedly, grabbing Fluffy from Y/n's grasp "Also where's Cloud? I thought he was here as well" she looked around, no spiky-haired boy in sight.

"He went away I think I dunno" Y/n answered, tying the red bandana around Fluffy's neck.

"Well let's go home, dad's gonna get worried" Tifa holds Y/n's little hand

"Yeah! I'm hungry!"

The Lockhart sisters got home safe and sound, and ate dinner happily with their dad and new kitty Fluffy.

Edited: 08/07/2024

[umseb]

Vettel: 'They called me Baby Schumi. I didn't like it but I understood'

8 MARCH 2010

Sebastian Vettel whips off his grimy beanie and ruffles his tousled hair in amused relief. He is the most thrilling young driver in Formula One and, following his second place for Red Bull in last year's championship, the most intriguing competitor in this season's potentially riveting battle for the world title. But Vettel is also, by far, the most relaxed and engaging racer in the notoriously guarded paddock. "You might think I'd get more attention this year," the 22-year-old German says in his immaculate English, "but there has actually been less focus on me. This is all because some old German guy decided to come back. He is keeping all the German writers very busy and that's good for me. I take my hat off to the old guy." Vettel waves his beanie in the direction of the Mercedes motorhome where a returning Michael Schumacher offers just one compelling strand in a revitalised racing narrative which resumes this Sunday with the opening race in Bahrain. "This season we might get lucky and talk about the racing rather than politics or business," Vettel says. "We've got Ferrari, McLaren, Mercedes and Red Bull. That's four teams and eight drivers. At the moment it's difficult to know who is at the top. One of us will finish first and one of us will finish eighth – with six others between.

"And we have this interesting competition between team-mates. You've got two British drivers in a British team – with [Lewis] Hamilton and [Jenson] Button at McLaren. I don't think it's going to be easy for Jenson. Lewis is very quick and he has known this team for many years. You can see what he did back in 2007 when Fernando Alonso was at McLaren. So I'm very interested to see McLaren and Ferrari [where Alonso and Felipe Massa have had their moments of strife]. "Obviously in Germany people are more interested in Michael and Nico [Rosberg] and a rivalry between two German drivers. A lot of things could happen in all these teams. So I think the most spectacular combination is me and Mark [Webber] because everyone knows we don't have a problem. Of course I want to beat him every time, and he wants to beat me, but we get along well." Vettel nods in acknowledgement when reminded that he and Webber have had their problems. Their relationship started badly when, in 2007, Vettel shunted Webber off the track during the Japanese grand prix. Vettel drove then for Toro Rosso and he was chasing Webber who, in turn, was pushing Hamilton hard for the lead in sheeting rain. After the race Webber seethed: "It's kids – they fuck it all up." Last year there were also some combative battles between Webber and Vettel as the Australian veteran and the German tyro came close to hunting down Button after the British driver looked to have wrapped up the title after winning six out of the first seven races. "You know Mark," Vettel says of his similarly likeable team‑mate, "he is not afraid of saying what he thinks. So after that crash in Japan he was direct. He was angry and I was angry but, afterwards, I was sorry. We've never had a problem since." Webber ranted against Vettel's inexperience in 2007 but the German's rise as a prodigy can be measured in the number of records he holds. He is the youngest-ever driver to score points in a Formula One race [when aged 19 at the US grand prix in 2007] as well as the youngest-ever to take pole position and reach the podium. He also became the youngest-ever race winner when, just a few months after he turned 21, he was victorious at the Italian grand prix in September 2008. It has long been an open secret in the pit-lane that Vettel is on course to become the next great star of the sport. Even more impressively, he appears as entertained as he is gratified by such bold claims. "All these nice people saying I'm going to be world champion won't make me any faster," he says. "You have to believe it yourself." Attention might initially gravitate towards Schumacher but Vettel should overshadow the racing great with whom he has been compared since his teenage years. "They used to call me 'Baby Schumi'. I didn't like it but I understood. In Britain, when you had Nigel Mansell, a national icon, the question after him was always the same, 'Who is the next Nigel Mansell?' The only one you didn't get it with was Eddie The Eagle because he was not much good." Schumacher has rarely been loved outside of Germany, or the fevered enclave at Ferrari, but Vettel has a wry humour and warm personality. His affection for British culture is already well-known with his passion for listening to the Beatles on vinyl and for reciting whole chunks of Monty Python and Little Britain already making him different to Schumacher. "I like British culture – and maybe it's because I have a sense of humour that is not always politically correct. That helps! I really like England even if it's always raining and there are lots of roundabouts in Milton Keynes [where Red Bull are based]. But let's not forget I'm a German driver in an English team so I don't expect to be the most popular person. I hear this phrase quite a lot in England – 'Oh, he's a typical German'. It's normal. In Germany we have the same thing about 'a typical Englishman'. I think it's quite funny. National stereotypes come about but not every person fits into the scheme.

"I saw how the British can be when I won at Silverstone last year. I don't think it was the nicest race for them but afterwards they were so happy, so cheerful, even though I wasn't Lewis or Jenson. I went on stage and thousands of British guys seemed to go crazy. It was incredible – and I was quite surprised." It seems even more surprising that someone as young as Vettel should be the only driver in Formula One to manage himself. "Well, I try to do it," he laughs. "I come from an ordinary family – my dad is a carpenter, a roof-maker – and we've always loved racing together. We never went on holidays. We went karting and even my big sister enjoyed this. She would take my lap times and so we were in racing together. It seemed natural to go this way when I went into Formula One and managed myself – while taking advice from my family and close friends. "You can have managers who will tell you how great you are. But your family is more honest and we are doing OK. People say, 'Oh, you need a manager to get you into adverts or to make you more money'. But I'm fine. I want to make my own decisions. Sometimes it's funny because, in a negotiation, you can sit at a table with some very experienced people in their sixties. But you soon forget about your age and you do your best." Has he made any errors as a self-managed driver? "No, I don't regret any step I've taken so far. The problem with Formula One and football is that so much money is involved. Formula One is big business and, unfortunately, everyone is too caught up in his own interests and what ends up in his own pocket. For some people it is just business. And that's a big problem. You can't always say what you'd like to say. But the important thing for me is the racing – and to stay the same person I've always been." As just one example of Vettel's determined ordinariness he insists that, whenever he watches Eintracht Frankfurt in the Bundesliga, he stands anonymously among the fans. "I've never been to a corporate box or a lounge to watch football. I couldn't do that. You want to be with the fans who are singing and shouting. And at half-time I enjoy going down and standing in the queue to get a sausage with everyone else." Does he get recognised much because of his burgeoning status in Formula One, having won four races last season? "The last time I went it was a derby match against Mainz. A bit like Arsenal and Chelsea – except much smaller. I had my hat pulled down low and only a couple of people recognised me. But I wasn't hiding. I was just like everyone else, huddling against the cold. But we won that day and I went away very happy. That's what sport is about for me." In the unforgiving paddock Formula One boils down to winning – and making as much money as possible from a corporate enterprise. But, this season, the very human and remarkably gifted Vettel might just transform the cynical perception of an often cold business. "Last year it was different. No one expected Red Bull to challenge for the title. But now people expect us to be at the top. I like that but I also think it's important for me to say hi to all the mechanics from those other smaller teams who helped me when I was starting out. Sometimes that gets lost along the way." Then, just in case he sounds too noble for his own good, Vettel leans forward intently. "I want to win a lot of races this year – and it would be nice to start in Bahrain. It's not my favourite track but I finished second there last year. There's no champagne but the trophies they give out are great. I got a small, silver one last year and now I'd like the really big one." Best of all, as Vettel admits, would be a glittering trophy at the end of season which seals his apparent destiny as he becomes only the second German to win the world championship. "I'd love that, but seven other drivers are each planning something different. But I like to think that, this year, I could be good enough."

[thanatologie]

i guess it's just my life now that Deep Thoughts About Emmrich™️are some of the first things to brain worm me after regaining consciousness (waking up), but hear me out okay-

emmrich has, really, four - no, sorry, five - paths his story can take, right.

mortal and romanced

mortal and unromanced

mortal and dead

lich and unromanced

lich and romanced

it's the first and last two i really wanna talk about, and mostly the last, but let's consider:

the implication is, i think, when you choose to romance emmrich, it's an in it to win it kind of romance. it, more than the age gap, is why harding brings up how fast he and rook are moving (i'm sorry i love her and calling her lace is going to forever feel weird, forgive me), she gets that he's in deeper probably than intended, way faster than intended. like lich or mortal, it doesn't matter, it's very much implied rook becomes his Person™️in a way, say, an unromanced emmrich going out with strife doesn't have happen. that's just a date. but as a romanced emmrich progresses through the story, after the big fight he and rook have, after they kiss and make up post-fade prison and leading up to the last push for elgar'nan, there's a chance to have an interesting piece of dialogue with him where he talks about how he has so many plans he wants to share and talk about once everything's over and they're back home.

i don't think it's a stretch to assume where those plans lead, is what i'm saying, right. like...maybe more so than another of the other companions, emmrich finds his soulmate with rook. guy's just been handed everything he's ever longed for on a silver platter, especially in the mortal and romanced path, because he has manfred, and he has rook, and that's it. he's gotten his family. and i'd be lying to you if i didn't say he was probably terrified going into that last fight, because he could lose it again, just that quick, either by his death, by rook's, by something happening to manfred.

but this ain't about him.

where it really has interesting implications - and by interesting i mean horrible - is if emmrich's gone the lich and romanced path. because the tone changes in...a lot of stuff. the fight is different, because while both boil down to his fear of losing rook - which i will argue is actually greater than his fear of dying himself - a lich emmrich is very much kind of...overbearing? in a way? trying to get rook to hang back because now he's no longer as easy to kill (and i don't even know if kill is the right word there, either for me to use or emmrich, destroy might be more accurate). it's no longer an issue of his fear of death - if they've been all aboard the bone express with a lich emmrich, it's now all about rook. losing rook. how he's now afraid he'll mourn rook forever. and now he no longer has manfred.

so, my thought on this is - and not to make it dramatic, because emmrich's got enough of that nonsense for the both of us, dude just feels things incredibly deeply and 0/10 shows it - romanced and liched out is the worst possible ending for him. worse than a mortal him dying in the battle - that's quick, it's over in the blink of an eye. a lich emmrich...sure, he's got someone that loves him no matter what, that's nice. who supported his choice in becoming something more. but he has immediate buyer's remorse about that decision, because for all his talk about keeping rook safe, etc etc, the truth is, he's going to end up mourning them forever regardless. he's still lost manfred, and it clearly hits him harder than i think he would like people to think. i think the crushing weight of the certainty that, no matter what, he's going to lose rook regardless also comes crashing down on him.

all ground i've stomped on before, i know. but consider the implications of that. people like rook - heroes, is what i mean, i've got a lot of experience with heroes - don't die easy in their beds, you know? some people can settle down after something like this and live a quiet life forever after, but those types are going to be rare, because the types of people who answer the call to be a hero can't leave shit alone once they've been bitten. they see trouble and run toward it.

i think....a romanced lich emmrich goes bad. i don't mean a mwoo ha ha kind of bad, i don't mean...i don't know...a corypheus kind of bad (is that even going bad, though, considering- you know what, never mind). i think all those oaths he's taken as a watcher, and all those he probably had to take as a lich lord go out the window. i think there would be a lot of line crossing. a lot of big flashing no nos. mostly because no, i don't think emmrich is equipped for eternity. i don't think he can handle others passing through death when he can't. he might get, hell, forty+ years with rook, but what's a handful of decades with the love of your life when eternity stretches like a yawning void without them in front of you, right?

what that looks like, i don't really know. does he do what others have done before him and try to bring them back from wherever they go after death? i don't know, maybe. he's a necromancer, play to your strengths, i guess. whatever it looks like, i do think there's a distinct possibility for him to get pushed over some edge. like...it's hard to imagine, i guess, because he's so damn kind, but he's also not built for what he's asking himself to do, and i think instead of his (trauma-induced anxiety disorder) fear of death very quickly could become replaced by an all-consuming dread for the inevitable which could take him down some very, very dark roads.

[therighthandofvengeance]

Just Some of Ivanova & Sheridan’s Peak Sibling Moments in Point of No Return:

MATTERS OF HONOR [S03E01]:

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of these unannounced visits by VIPs who will not tell us why they’re coming or what they’re gonna do when they get here.” “Well, leave it you to try and take all the fun out of life. I mean, come on, where’s your sense of mystery, of adventure?” “Are you trying to cheer me up?” “No, sir. Wouldn’t dream of it.” “Good. I hate being cheered up. It’s depressing.” “Well, in that case, we’re all gonna die horrible, painful, lingering deaths.” “Thank you. I feel so much better now.”

[shared looks while Mr. Endowi interrogates Delenn]

“Captain, you wanted to see me?” “Yes, Commander, um…. It’s gonna be difficult. Um, I haven’t had a chance to fill you in on everything until now, and I apologize for that. But from what I’ve just heard, we don’t have a lot of time. This is Marcus. He’s a—” “A ranger. They’ve been trained to fight the Shadows and keep an eye on what’s happening outside Babylon 5. The rangers in this area are under the direct control of you, Ambassador Delenn, and Garibaldi is functioning as your liaison. Did I leave anything out?” “Ah, when did you, how did you—” “Captain, the day something happens around here and I don’t know about it, worry.”

A DAY IN THE STRIFE [S03E03]:

“With all due respect, that was Grade-A Stupid. I mean, what if the guy would’ve gone for it? What if he would just have blown your brains all over the place? I mean, what if he— what’s that?” “Energy cap. I palmed it when I shoved the gun in his pocket.” “You are going to give me an ulcer.” “Okay, okay, next time I’ll give him a live gun. You really do want that promotion.” “Next time you’re gonna—”

“Always finding the good in every situation, eh, Captain?” “Absolutely. If I didn’t, I might end up like you.”

“I swear, if we live through this, somebody’s gonna find their automatic shower preferences reprogrammed for ice water.”

“Captain, you alright?” “Aw, nuts.” “What’s wrong? I mean, we survived.” “Right. Which means now I have to go back to that stupid transport association meeting. Oh well.” “If I live through this job, without completely losing my mind— it will be a miracle of biblical proportions.”

VOICES OF AUTHORITY [S03E05]:

“Look, I can’t make my appointment on Epsilon III. You’ll have to go in my place. Get the information and get back as soon as you can.” “Not a problem. Anything else you need?” “A glass of whiskey, a gun, and two bullets.” “Understood. I’ll call you when I get back.”

[Ivanova rolling her eyes while Sheridan kisses Julie Musante & Sheridan rolling his eyes while kissing Julie Musante, because of course this is the time Ivanova appears]

“My usual timing, sorry.”

“I can’t leave without an explanation, she’ll be all over me.” “Looks to me like she’s already all over you.”

“Good luck, Captain. I think you’re about to go where everyone has gone before.” “You—”

SIC TRANSIT VIR [S03E12]:

“Interested in a little dime-store psychoanalysis?” “No, I’m just baring my soul as a preface to asking you to give me some silverware.”

[Ivanova’s Interruption of The Almost-Kiss™️]

“Now, get the hell out of my chair.” “Yes, sir! And may I say, sir, from the bottom of my heart that you make an absolutely charming Centauri.”

A LATE DELIVERY FROM AVALON [S03E13]:

“And you have an idea.” “Always, commander. Always.”

[l3m0ngal5]

Dabble idea offscreen singing dancing through life from wicked

Benny: Look, champagne he's so happy

Champagne: it is getting hard to not call him hard our child

Off screen: The trouble with schools is

They always try to teach the wrong lesson

Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know

They want you to become less callow, less shallow

But I say, why invite stress in?

Stop studying strife

And learn to live "the unexamined life"

Dancing through life

Skimming the surface

Gliding where turf is smooth

Life's more painless

For the brainless

Why think too hard?

When it's so soothing

Dancing through life

No need to tough it

When you can slough it off as I do

Nothing matters

But knowing nothing matters

It's just life

So keep dancing through

Dancing through life

Swaying and sweeping

And always keeping cool

Life is fraught-less

When you're thoughtless

Those who don't try

Never look foolish

Dancing through life

Mindless and careless

Make sure you're where less trouble is rife

Woes are fleeting

Blows are glancing

When you're dancing

Through life

So, what's the most swankified place in town?

That would be the Ozdust Ballroom

Sounds perfect!

Let's go down to the Ozdust Ballroom

We'll meet there later tonight

We can dance 'til it's light

Find the prettiest girl

Give her a whirl

Right on down to the Ozdust Ballroom

Come on, follow me

You'll be happy to be there

Dancing through life down at the Ozdust

If only because dust is what we come to

Nothing matters but knowing nothing matters

It's just life

So keep dancing through

Miss Galinda, I hope you'll save at least one dance for me

I'll be right there, waiting all night

Oh, that's so kind

But you know what would be even kinder?

See that tragically beautiful girl

The one in the chair

It seems so unfair

We should go on a spree

And not she, gee

I know someone would be my hero

If that someone were to go invite her

Well, maybe I could invite her?

Oh, Bick, really?

You would do that for me?

I would do anything for you, Miss Galinda

So

So I'll be picking you up around eight?

After all

Now that we've met one another

It's clear we deserve each other

You're perfect

You're perfect, so we're perfect together

Born to be forever

Dancing through life

Oh, Elphaba, isn't it wonderful?

Finally, for this one night

I'm about to have a fun night

With this Munchkin boy Galinda found for me

And I only wish there were

Something I could do for her to repay her

Elphaba, see?

We deserve each other

And Galinda helped it come true

We deserve each other, me and Boq

Please Elphaba, try to understand

I do

Galinda, listen Nessa and I were talking about you just now

And I was just talking about you!

I thought you might want to wear this hat to the party tonight!

It's really, uh, sharp, don't you think?

You know, black is this year's pink

You deserve each other, this hat and you

You're both so smart

You deserve each other so here

Out of the goodness of my heart

Listen, Nessa?

Yes?

Uh, Nessa

I've got something to confess, a

Reason why, well

Why I asked you here tonight

Now I know it isn't fair

Oh, Boq, I know why

You do?

It's because I'm in this chair

And you felt sorry for me

Well, isn't that right?

No! No! It's because, because

Because you are so beautiful!

Oh, Boq, I think you're wonderful!

And we deserve each other

Don't you see, this is our chance?

We deserve each other

Don't we, Boq?

You know what?

Let's dance

What?

Let's dance! (Dancing through lifed down at the Ozdust)

(If only because dust is what we come to!)

(And the strange thing, your life could end up changing)

(While you're dancing)

(Through!)

[salternateunreality2]

Sefikura's Awkward Dates, Part 3: Sephiroth Asks Cloud Out

Since @snowbanshee asked ❤️

Sephiroth had prepared for this moment for months. He was ready. He walked up to Third Class Strife and took action.

"Strife, go out with me."

"Sir! Right now?"

Sephiroth was surprised it had worked this well and this quickly. He was nothing if not adaptable, though.

"Yes, this way." He spun on his heel, gesturing to the younger man, who followed unquestioningly.

It was a good thing Sephiroth had worked hard with his friends to come up with date ideas and pickup lines beforehand, now he was prepared for anything.

"Did it hurt?" asked Sephiroth.

Cloud tilted his head.

"Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven?"

"Uh, Sir, are you calling me the devil?"

"Hmm, I suppose that would be a reasonable interpretation. Forget I said anything," said Sephiroth, already trying to remember the next pickup line as he strode down the street. Cloud was quiet, no doubt pleased with the situation. Sephiroth loved Cloud's quietness--he was so calm most of the time, but had the biting wit of Genesis, the stamina of Zack, the gentleness of Angeal, and a fire all his own.

------

Cloud trotted along next to Sephiroth, not exactly struggling to keep up, but having to take two strides to every one of Sephiroth's. He seemed happy and energetic about something, but hadn't deigned to share with Cloud. Oh well, the day was nice and Cloud'd take any chance to be alone with his crush, even if it was for some weird impromptu patrol.

"I was missing vitamin U," said Sephiroth, suddenly.

"I'm sorry," said Cloud, unsure of what to say. His understanding of vitamins was rudimentary at best, and he had no idea what a SOLDIER of Sephiroth's caliber might need. It was usually a bad thing to have a vitamin deficiency though. His response seemed to satisfy Sephiroth, though, so he just shrugged and kept trotting.

-----

Sephiroth beamed inside. This was going great. Only one botched pickup line! And they were almost to the restaurant!

Genesis had suggested a very high-end place, with a dress code and too many forks, while Zack had suggested a hot dog stand where you could get "a lot of hot food for cheap". Angeal suggested a compromise with a nice little lunch place that served hearty portions and welcomed everyone. He said it would make Cloud the most comfortable while still treating him well.

Sephiroth was grateful for his good friends.

"I love Angeal, Genesis, and Zack," he said, opening the cafe door for Cloud. "In here, please."

"Oh," said Cloud.

---------

Cloud knew it. Sephiroth was in love with the other Firsts, and this little excursion was a kind way of telling Cloud to fuck off and leave the friend group. It hurt a little extra that this was a popular lunch spot for dates, and that Cloud would get his heart broken while playing hooky from his regular duties. Knowing his luck, he'd probably get written up for ditching, even if Sephiroth vouched for him.

"Order anything you like," said Sephiroth as they stood in line.

Cloud barely managed a grunt, and when it was their turn, he just muttered "same" after Sephiroth ordered.

Sephiroth let out a small smile. He was probably looking forward to getting rid of the pesky chocobo so easily. Cloud's heart clenched at the thought and the smile. He lived for those tiny little twitches of Sephiroth's lips and the bright twinkle in his eyes.

Sure, he'd thought the man was hot since his early teens, but as he'd gotten to know Sephiroth through Zack and the others, he began to love every piece of him, especially the bare hints of his true self from behind the professional mask. Cloud loved Sephiroth's pupils dilating and shrinking with his emotions, his crisp writing, his dry wit, his endearing cluelessness, his earnest care for his men and close companions...

Cloud loved the harsh parts too. Sephiroth glaring stone-faced at Hojo, forcing the man to concede and adjust Cloud's mako schedule after a bad reaction. Then after the scientist left, Cloud saw Sephiroth deflate and his hands shake. Whatever was between Hojo and Sephiroth was unpleasant at best, but Sephiroth had stood up for Cloud anyway.

Cloud saw when Sephiroth made hard decisions on the battlefield, saw the hints and glimpses of inner turmoil, saw the cool calm confidence as Sephiroth made his final choices.

Even Sephiroth's brutality was beautiful and thrilling to Cloud, like when he took on a dragon single-handedly to protect a squad of troopers.

Ah, but it was all over now. Their food had been delivered to their seats and Sephiroth had been quiet the whole time. Now he would tell Cloud the truth and push him away. Just like everyone.

-----

Sephiroth loved this moment, the sun blazing brightly overhead, highlighting Cloud's handsome golden locks. Not even the crowds bothered him today, as long as he could share this pleasant silence with this beautiful, wonderful man on their first-ever date.

Their food had arrived, so it was probably time for another pickup line, or some polite conversation.

"If people were boogers, I'd pick you first," Sephiroth said confidently.

Cloud's head snapped up from where he'd been staring at his fish burger.

"Really?"

"Of course, it is extra fitting, as you are yellow-headed," Sephiroth explained, pleased with his cleverness.

Uh-oh. That did not look like Cloud's happy face.

"REALLY, SEPHIROTH?! You drag me all the way out here in the middle of work, probably costing me a demerit at best, just to call me a BOOGER and reject me from your friend group?! And here I thought you were trying to let me down gently! How dare you?! You just...I lo- liked you so much and even if I'm not good enough to be your lover, I at least thought we could be *sniff* FRIENDS, and here you are getting me FIRED and CALLING ME A BOOGER!"

Cloud finished his tirade by jumping up and running out of the restaurant. Sephiroth was left bewildered, smelling fish and tears, watching his date sprint back to the tower.

He considered finishing lunch first, but settled on asking for to-go boxes before regrouping with his friends and hopefully finding Cloud.

---------

It was evening when Sephiroth was finally allowed to see Cloud, who had been caught by Zack and squirreled away in Zack's hoarder's nest of an apartment.

"Cloud?" he asked the angry burrito in the middle of Zack's couch. It huffed.

"Come on, Spike, you said you'd hear him out," said Zack, poking the lump. It growled.

"Fine. Get it over with."

"Genesis, Angeal, and Zack" Sephiroth began. The burrito's breath hitched like it was about to start crying. "Informed me that my words and actions were unclear this afternoon. I'm very distressed by this fact and wish to clarify. I intended to ask you, Cloud, out on a romantic date, and I mistakenly thought you'd accepted. The unfortunate comparisons to demons and bodily excretions were my poor attempts at pickup lines."

Zack had one hand covering his mouth to prevent a snort, and the other on his temple to massage it.

The room went very quiet.

"But...you said you were in love with the others?" Cloud's cocoon said, voice wavering.

"I said I loved them, which I do. I had asked them for advice, and they gave what I thought were good suggestions. At the time, I was praising them since I felt the date was going well. I realize now how that could be misleading. I...I'm sorry for scaring and confusing you, Cloud. I do quite like you, romantically, and no one else."

A pair of blue sapphires peeked out of the blankets, studying Sephiroth.

"Do you still...do you still want to go on a date?" Cloud asked, his gaze calculating.

"Very much so," replied Sephiroth.

"*Sniff* ok, me too. And I'm sorry for shouting and running out. Are you going to get bad press for that? I really didn't mean to, I just- I thought you hated me and-"

"Please, Cloud, do not worry over such things. They are all negligible in the face of my happiness over securing your affection."

"Dang, you shoulda used THAT line, Seph-dawg!" crowed Zack, slapping his friend on the shoulder. Cloud jumped, having forgotten Zack was there.

"Zackary, I believe you just ruined a moment," Sephiroth grumped. "Cloud, would you like to come over to my apartment? I saved our meals from lunch."

Cloud crawled out of his blanket nest, nodding vigorously and trying to subtly wipe his face off.

"*sniff* Yeah, I'd love to *sniff* thanks. Thanks Zack."

Soon the pair was on their way down the hall, ready to microwave fish burgers and make the whole floor rank with their newfound relationship.

[pockethep]

I personally liked the jjk ending and IMO think a lot of the dislike is misinterpretation, nitpciking, and the leaks. I think a lot of Gojo stans are just mad they wasted time theorizing he’d come back and taking it out on the ending. If you didn’t like the ending how would you have written it.

Disliking something doesn’t mean failing to see the intent behind it.

As much as it sucked when Choso died, I still recognized the moment for what it was. One of characters who embodied the meaning of being human (love and redemption) dying to the King of Curses and in that instance all the other characters started to lose their humanity just to win (Yuji going crazy on Sukuna in visceral anger (while not even bothering to call out for Megumi), Yuta putting himself in Gojo’s body, etc.).

I’m not even a Gojo stan but while I did agree with some of the evidence that he could come back I didn’t particularly want him to. More importantly there was no way in hell Gege would bring him back. I’m glad he didn’t come back but the way everything was handled afterwards is what I didn’t like.

To go a step forward, I enjoyed the death. Gojo's status as the strongest and being seen as a weapon to be exploited is one of the most consistent themes within the series. (Honestly the most consistent). The balance of the world literally shifted upon his birth and we get several examples of how this impacted many people (I.E. Toji, the curse users during the HI arc, etc.) His death was to be just as impactful and if he had to face defeat to anyone, it would have had to have been Sukuna.

And 100% agree on the leaks. LEAKS SUCK. I hope no other series allows leaks to pervade their fandom like jjk did. Same thing happened with BNHA, a mistranslated line went wild through the fanbase and ruined a lot of peoples perception. I am glad that the Undead Unluck leaker recognized peak and stopped so they could read weekly when it dropped and that the Kagurabachi leaker got ran out of the fandom and I hope the trend continues.

Now the question.

To be honest I’m not particularly sure how I would have wanted the series to end.

Sorry if you were looking for a straight answer under the "Keep reading" tab.

Not to cop out but I really enjoyed the dream theory by thatpersonperson, however realistically Akutami would have needed a chapter or two to fully accomplish something like that. With the limited time, I don’t think he’d be able to wrap everything up unless it was a longer chapter than normal.

But besides that…I really don’t know.

Walk with me.

I mentioned that my enjoyment for the series waned towards the latter half but, aside from Yuji, Choso, and Maki, one of the main reasons I stayed was because I’ve always been intrigued with the story Akutami was trying to tell. 

Is jjk about the perpetuation of generational trauma? About how soldiers (sorcerers) lose empathy because of the horrors they face? Is it about a cyclical tragedy? Is it about the inescapable nature of fate?

Ending the story on a bittersweet finale is for the best given its subject matter.

So how does this story conclude in a hopeful way? A meaningful one that makes sense given all the loss over the course of the series.

(And hopeful is not synonymous with happy. There was never a point in time where I thought JJK would get an outright happy ending. The Chainsaw Man Part 1 ending might be one of my favorite endings period. But it wasn’t particularly happy, it was hopeful.)

The point I’m trying to make is that taking into account what jjk is and how Gege wrote it, I don’t have a set way I wanted it to end besides that fact that I wanted Gege to give me a reason for the strife and see a few things before it did end.

Like yes, jjk was never going to erase cursed energy or even really do anything to stop children/teens from being drafted into jjk society to fight curses at a young age (Naruto didn’t do it either). But I think it’s still valid to dislike keeping the child soldiers especially when in a very pivotal moment Megumi literally mentioned wanting a peaceful life.

JJK had a chapter literally titled ‘Premature Death’ (Chapter 76) which condemns the exploitation of youth as disposable pawns within jujutsu society and sets forth very important events….yet the series ends with the characters still trapped within that cycle of exploitation. People have been arguing that with the higher ups killed and the Zenin Clan gone, the old age has caved to the new but I would have loved the adults left behind to actually address how jujutsu society would move forward with the void the higher ups left behind. The characters seem to still operate on the ways of the old system. And I understand how changes were shown by not executing the curse users but I guess I wanted more.

The only form of reflection the characters had on the traumatic events of the Sukuna fight was strategy based. And this is what I meant previously by Gege has a very clinical writing style at times. The lack of introspection or rumination after catastrophic and almost world ending events weakens what could have been sincere. There was no proper weight given to everything that just happened. Like Yuji who watched Choso turn to ashes in front of him and Megumi who’s body killed both his Tsumiki and Gojo out of his control while also dealing with the damage from previous attacks. Also from Yuta.

Yuta STILL HAS STITCHES ON HIS HEAD. There was an elephant in the room, a physical reminder and constant weight that was never addressed by him especially. Seeing how it affected him and retroactively affected his relationship with Gojo would have been amazing to see. I think that, although a nice decision in the moment, the follow through of the decision to put Yuta in Gojo's body was incredibly weak.

Also, Megumi only getting a chapter dedicated to his closure with Sukuna, who'd taken his body and killed both his sister, Gojo, and many others...I wanted more.

If you wanted a straight answer on how I would write it, it would have involved time that sadly I know Akutami didn't have and more moments to sit with the characters post-battle. I'm not of the belief that just because I didn't like a thing, I'm automatically better qualified to dictate a straight ending. I just have things I would have liked for said ending. I would have liked more follow through, especially regarding jujutsu society. How are they going to rebuild the system that prevents that exploitation as well as the events that led to the series? Also, I would have liked more discussion on ending the cycle of curses that Geto and Yuki brought up. I knew it wasn't going to be achieved, especially after Yuki died as well as any sign of the merger, but I wanted something it was an interesting in-universe dilemma.

I am glad that you, and many other people, enjoyed it. I don’t think it’s all bad or even terrible I just wasn’t left satisfied. And that's fine, it would've been impossible for such a series to satisfy EVERYONE. Someone else asked me if there was anything I liked and I will say, I did enjoy the final scene with Sukuna.

I like the idea that Yuji did change Sukuna. That ideology Sukuna has in believing in strength crumbles at his defeat by Yuji. In a way Yuji proved himself and his ideology correct in Sukuna’s eyes and so in death Sukuna gives Yuji’s viewpoint a chance. I think its a good ending for Sukuna, who decides to choose walk a path with Uraume. The acknowledgement that he lost was also great, I didn't see that coming.

I will say that the response to the ending is overly volatile. There’s a lot of anger being thrown around on both sides. A lot of people who enjoyed the ending are throwing around “media literacy” and a lot of people who didn’t like the ending are calling those who did “Gege glazers”. I think both sides are overreacting but this is what happens whenever an immensely popular, long-running series ends. **Cough Cough** Naruto and Bleach.

It was to be expected no matter how it ended.

I haven’t seen it as much here (Twitter is hell right now) but I do think people need to calm down. I don’t expect any of what I didn’t like or what I wanted to affect someone else's opinion of it so there isn't a point in screaming at anyone over it.

Anyway I really do hope that whatever Gege writes next, he gets to do it at his own pace without the meddling and deadlines of WSJ and hopefully he gets a monthly series. (And a break)

[shmowder]

Yup, it's me again. I'm right here. Entering the event. Like a boss.

Name: Yana Golubeva

Age: 24

Job: Housewife for bitchass husband

Npc.

__________

She originally lived in Paris with her parents under her birth name, Solène Lamoureux. That was until she was absolutely swept off her feet by a.. completely average man visiting for work. Not much is to be said here. He stayed, until he had to return home. Of course, she decided to go with him, where she got married to him in the Town at the ripe old age of 19, while he was about 22. She had them decided to change her legal name to match her surroundings, taking her husband's last name.

She finds the Town to be quite boring compared to her original home. She doesn't really consider the Town to be her real place in life. But, she's here for her husband and their love. Which is quickly fading the more he's away to the military.

Of course, she's had time to frolick around and made friends while he was away. But mainly confined to the house with her duties as a housewife. Although you can catch her around occasionally. ..usually with other women, having some interesting (lesbian) conversations.

She's more on the iffy side when it comes to believing in the Mistresses. She is a bit suspicious of rather magical happenings going on around the Steppe, but her belief isn't all that strong.

She respects authority. For the most part. She mainly adheres to the Saburovs, feeling pity for poor Alexander and his wife. She can, and she will passively aggressively defend their less than pleasing reign. After all, two people can only do so much. Think of how they must feel!

Of course, you probably guessed it, she's on Clara's side. And, maybe not surprisingly, she's going against Daniil. Her reasoning is very sound. She's going off of her gut, of course! Wait, what do you mean Clara's causing trouble? No no, that's silly. She's really a sweet girl. She is then appalled when the Saburovs practically disown her.

She only has one, eensy weensy, tiny little favor. Fetch her some bread. And some water, please? To be exact, ten loaves. Five bottles. She'll pay you well, of course! And then when you get back to her, all that you get paid with is.. one free hour of lodgings. Isn't that nice.

God dammit.

"TEN BREAD LOAFS??? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND WOMAN???" <- is what I would've said if I've ever met her ingame and accidentally started her quest bc she came into the room right as I was about to rummage through her cupboard

I'm sorry, but I am fully fighting your OC.

Not crackers??? BUT BREAD? WHOLE BREAD? IS SHE MAKING A CEASER SALAD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING PLAGUE APOCALYPSE?

Getting one hour of free lodging is hilarious, if she was in P1, I see a lot of people complaining about her quest in the patho subreddit after they realise she only gives those requirements to The Bachelor and The Haruspex, while for The Changeling she is content with one bottle, the water inside being optional.

Omfg, wait no, what if she gives the bread to Clara? Like she still demands the bread, and in the Changeling route, you can visit her to get one loaf of bread for free! After she swindled Daniil and Artemy for 20 loafs total, keeping 18 to herself and setting herself up to survive the rest of the plague.

Ever since I read the "bitchass husband," I absolutely fell in love with her. Oh my god.

Her coming from paris for one (1) mediocre man only to engage in sweet, sweet lesbianism—and hey, no, you can't call it infidelity. It's just two women talking...having a conversation...with fingers and-

I like the detail of her being sympathetic to the Saburovs, especially since you didn't mention her having any kids so she might relate to them on that aspect.

Or, she might admire their love for each other? Because they've both been through great strife together, despite all of Katerina's reputation, addictions and failures as a mistress, not once does Alexander condem her. If anything he's the first to defend his wife, didn't he attempt to band morphine and other medical substances just to help her through her addiction? He never faulted her either, he viewed her shortcomings as his shortcomings and failures as a lacking leader.

Or how they're seen outside the cathedral at the end of p2, holding hands and swearing their devotion to one another even after Alexander lost his governor position, Katerina still stood proud by his side.

Maybe it's reminiscent of the romantic life Yana imagined herself to have with her husband, instead of the fading dull love she's been given.

Actually, Eva might attempt to sleep with her ngl.

I'd love to hear more about her gossipy stories, the fun of being a patho npc observing the three healers run around like headless chickens.

And fuck yeah, Clara deserves so much more love. Yana's house could be a place she stays at for one night after being kicked by the Saburovs, then she goes on her way.

[unknown-lifeform]

I'm not sure if you are tired of writing monster stuff or not but maybe vampire agszc with cloud being a human and he intrudes the house/castle on a dare because no one calls cloud strife a chicken! Bonus if cloud does not believe they are vampires!

Cloud was too old for this. He was definitely too old to go into abandoned buildings because someone was daring him. And everyone involved was too old to believe in ghosts or whatever. Unbelievable, that he was hopping a fence and heading towards that mansion no one had seen used in the past three or four decades.

He walked through the yard, hands in his pockets. This was a real throwback to being ten and trying to show he wasn't a chicken.

The house didn't look too bad, considering how long it had been abandoned. Boarded windows, some flaking off paint. It didn't look like it was going to fall on him, at least.

And the door was unlocked. The handle turned easily, without even any complaining from lack of upkeep.

Complete darkness inside. Cloud turned on his phone torch, and his timer while he was at it. They had said fifteen minutes in here. He set it for sixteen, just to be sure.

Should he sit somewhere? Better not, who knew how many stray animals had come in to piss.

But, as he walked through the large entrance, he realized something was off. There was less dust than expected. No weird smells. No graffiti or trash or anything else indicating people had ever broken in. The furniture was covered by white sheets.

Kind of creepy, he could admit that. Maybe someone did come to clean up every once in a while? He walked around from one room to the next. The stairs were better not trusted, so he stuck to the ground floor.

It was very creepy, to be honest. Whatever. Twelve minutes left.

"Good evening."

Cloud jumped, the words breathed right behind his ear. He turned, heart in his throat.

A man stood in front of him. Tall, long hair that in the torch's light looked almost silver. Where had he come from? Cloud hadn't heard him walking around.

"It's unpolite to go into people's house uninvited," the man said.

"Who are you?" Cloud said.

"One of the house owners."

"House owners? No one lives here."

"Think again," whispered a second voice.

Cloud spun. Another man, a redhead. And a third, a brick wall of a man with a hint of a beard.

"Sorry," Cloud said, looking from one to the other. "I, uh, I thought this place was abandoned."

He turned towards the doorway, and found a fourth man. Dark haired, leaning against a wall with a little smile.

"You should be more careful, then," that one said.

Cloud cleared his throat. "I'm really sorry."

"Maybe we should ask you to compensate us," the red said.

"Compensate you? I didn't break anything."

"But you might have caused us undue stress," the long haired one said.

Cloud fidgeted with his free hand. "No offense, but you guys are the one who sneaked up on me."

"We have all the rights to do so in our house," the other replied, and smiled.

There was... something weird there. His teeth were strange. Two of them were far too long, and far too pointy.

"Um," Cloud started.

He turned, and flinched when he found the larger of the four a lot closer to him than before. His mouth was slightly open. Cloud pointed the light at him, to find long, pointy teeth.

Cloud burst out laughing.

"They set you up to this," he said. "They were planning the dare, weren't they? What are you, friends? Older brothers?"

A moment of silence.

"Excuse me?" the red said.

"Look, you can't scare me off like this," Cloud said. "You got me at first, but the vampire thing here is taking it too far."

They should have kept with the pissed homeowners act. Cloud could give it to them, they had been good at appearing out of thin air. If this had been planned, they must have spent a while figuring out how to avoid creaky floorboards and hiding spots.

"You think we are here to mock you," the red said.

"You aren't?"

"No."

Cloud rolled his eyes. Of course they would say that.

He made to step around the man with long hair to head towards the exit. The other got in front of him again.

Cloud huffed. "I'm leaving. I'm not going to stay here and let everyone make fun of me."

The dark haired man near the exit piped up. "There might be a misunderstanding here."

"Like what?"

"We are vampires. We very much are."

"And I'm a werewolf. Let me go, I need to tell the others they're a bunch of idiots."

The long haired man didn't move, only frowned down at Cloud. Cloud raised his phone, shining the light right into his eyes. That had him flinch away, shielding his face.

"Was nice meeting you all," Cloud said, walking past him.

They said nothing. All four of them stared at him with a certain confusion.

Stepping past the one closest to the exit, Cloud turned around. "Smile," he said, and took a picture of the room.

They all grimaced as the flash went off.

"Are we really letting him go?" the redhead asked.

"I'm still wondering about that," the larger man replied.

"Bye, guys," Cloud said, and headed out.

The others were waiting for him where he had left them, standing outside of the gate.

"Fifteen minutes haven't passed yet!" Biggs said.

Jessie laughed. "Did you get scared?"

"I found your buddies," Cloud said. "Very funny, guys."

"What buddies?" Biggs asked.

"The ones you sent to scare me. Cool vampire trick."

The others looked at each other. "What buddies?" Jessie asked.

"These ones," Cloud said. He picked up the phone to show them the nice group picture he had snapped.

It was... blank? The room was there, but the people weren't.

"Cloud..." Biggs said, "what buddies?"

[symphorine]

The Dread Wolf's Eluvian Most of us have only traveled through the eluvians at the whims of those who called themselves our gods. We know them as mirrors that always go from one to another, a bonder pair linked no matter the distance. Solas has outsmarted the so-called gods. If we used normal eluvians, they could track us to our lair. Solas has improved upon June's work by creating a mirror whose singing stone can change its tune to take us to any aluvian and not just its bonded partner. Thus ,we can travel wherever this rebellion needs us, with no fear of pursuit. Travel is as safe as a normal eluvian. If you have questions, ask for the Slow Arrow, and I will guide you. - Felassan

codex we find right in front of the lighthouse eluvian. interesting... mostly bc it doesn't. actually talk about the crossroads? what exactly are they? an in-between liminal space that Becomes when the eluvians are linked? and persists afterwards? maybe something to think on later when ive. actually gone into the crossroads and find some more codex entries. but ooh are the crossroads actually only an artifact of solas' improvements? if regular eluvians are a simple one to one, presumably there would be no need, and most importantly no possibility, for the crossroads. at best it would be a single passage in the fade. i think maybe that tracks! with the way the caretaker talks about solas, and the crossroads seem to be in general placed under his ownership (loosely).

ALSO this is clearly propaganda. yay wartime propaganda. also seems to imply travel was not entirely free ("at the whims")? or is it just bc obviously the location of eluvians was decided by the evanuris, since they were the ones creating them?

also interesting in terms of solas' skills. june is the god of craft and building (also irelin wears his vallaslin!), so clearly was like, not a small time player. i think solas refers to him later as like "our greatest buildings came from june". but solas was able to improve upon his work. was it just solas? did other elves work on this as well, but he ended up getting the credit as project manager to reinforce his image in the rebellion?

and more minor but felassan again being like. if you are lost or confused ask for me and i will help. nice dude. wish he was still alive and around. actually i would have LOVED to see him help rook & co and fight with solas omg. rip felassan

snippets of strife and irelin convo - not all

Strife: This is because of Fen'Harel's -- sorry, Solas's ritual, isn't it?

Strife: If those two [Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain] are back out in the world... it explains a lot.

Strife: Solas might be a bastard, but compared to the Evanuris?

Strife: Let's just say they weren't known for being kind rulers.

Irelin: There's a reason Solas led a rebellion against the Evanuris. And a reason he imprisoned them.

Strife: We've still got dozens of Veil Jumpers unaccounted for.

Rook: How can we help? Irelin: We need to find Bellara Lutare. She's the best there is at working with our ancient artifacts.

Irelin: She was off looking for another artifact before this ritual shook everything loose.

Irelin: If anyone can get a handle on all this wild magic -- and the artifacts it's setting off -- it'll be her.

irelin is so pretty. anyway. dozens of veiljumpers unaccounted for - ill try to do a headcount when i do get to the VJ camp, but this is useful to get numbers. more than a dozen less than a hundred, i'd say, which is a large window but still. idr if we get any more particulars on how the veil jumpers started? they seem to be a recent organization formally, but from tevinter nights we know strife and irelin, at least, were around already a few years ago, and presumably there have been dalish clans in arlathan forest for a while (there permanently? travelling and leaving? a mix of both? how much did they all try to explore the ruins? were they more or less accessible before this? what about inquisition time, when the veil was definitely weakened, even if arlathan forest was far away from the Breach? did some dalish stay there, separating from their clan, to explore the ruins more?)

also it's been pointed out before but. "[the evanuris] weren't known for being kind rulers." since when exactly? i dont mean this flippantly im literal. definitely not the wider view in inquisition. what's changed?

this is more speculation than canon for various reasons, but: iirc most of the elves we heard of starting to follow solas in trespasser were city elves (makes sense, especially with the mounting tension in Orlais since the masked empire's events - and dalish people presumably would absolutely not trust someone who fashions himself the dread wolf, whether or not he truly is). from what we know city elves have even less access to knowledge of elvhen history than the dalish, so maybe it was easier/ran less contrary to their deeply held beliefs to hear the evanuris were also terrible masters who enslaved their ancestors? definitely resonated with their own plight as city elves. so that's one thing - but the veil jumpers must have been (and still be) mostly composed of dalish members. strife iirc was not born dalish and joined later, but i think irelin is dalish, bellara definitely is. when and how did they find this information? they cant have just accepted what solas said. what did they find in the ruins? was it in areas/artifacts suddenly accessible and awoken by veil instabilities and the gods' presence? and how widespread is it? we basically only interact with or hear ambient convo from the veil jumpers' members in terms of dalish elves (besides dalish npcs we save and don't really talk to). is this knowledge that only the VJ have, and most of the rest of the dalish are carrying on as normal? how DO other dalish clans react when they inform them of this?

also a more personal gripe: the constant talk of artifacts to retrieve is... hm... feels like filler? like something for VJ to do. what artifacts? what do they do? how do you classify them? clearly there are very different types! i wanna know more! it's sort of acceptable for this first conversation bc we're meeting for the first time and there's no time ot go into details, but it happens again and again in later interactions. tell me more! where ARE your artifacts! what do they do! who else besides bellara is working on fixing them! i want to knowwwww

and ofc the eternal question: last time we were in thedas, eluvians were also not something commonly known; most of them were broken, and finding working ones was rare. in da2, Merrill spends all game trying to make one work, and sure she doesn't have a lot of resources, but it doesn't seem to be an easy task. at the very least, she needs Power that isn't readily available, which is why she uses blood magic (someone correct me if i'm rembering wrong). how come now there are 1) eluvians everywhere (we'll ignore the convenience of their location bc yes that's obviously dictated by game mechanics rather than lore) (altho i might go back to that later when ive unlocked more of the map and have ruminated more) and 2) so many eluvians in working order! did solas fix and transport them all to ease his travels? that would open interesting implications in terms of where he's been going and why in those last ten years.

[pendarksmindandmadness]

This was my line of thought on a thread about how men are shit at apologies.

******

My response can be applied to any identity. If one partner insists the other has ulterior motives or just wants to clear themselves of wrongdoing: they aren't going to accept any apology.

There is no proper apology for some people. "I'm sorry," is almost never enough. You get dragged into explaining because it isn't enough.

And, like me, some people (especially married or involved men with any type of neuro-divergence) hate confrontational dialog of any kind. Whether we are right or not, sorry or not, intended to hurt someone or not; we're always the bad guy because we "said it wrong."

We can be verbally abused and emotionally manipulated all day long, but if the one doing so should hear a sigh of exasperation or see you roll your eyes; prepare for a fight.

And there is never an ounce of give-a-shit given when men are kicked around like emitional soccer balls, then made to feel like shit when they finally speak up.

So, in the end, what's the point of apologizing in the first place. We know we're just going to have it thrown back at is anyway. We know there is nothing sufficient.

If I'm going to be considered the asshole regardless of what I say or do; then I might as well be seen as the asshole for just shutting down, closing off, and saying nothing.

But man, how people hate it when you deal with anger by walking away. It triggers a torrent of "you can't face it" or "you are scared to deal with it" statements.

Large leaps in logic like that are what I'm talking about. The partner "shouted back" at with several gigantic assumptions about why you said what you said.

They invariably follow it with character attack. They tell you what you "always do" or "have always been" and end with the classic "why are you in a relationship at all?"

So we go back to why say anything at all. It's that sort of bullshit backlash for expressing anything a woman might take offense at, that makes men shut down. (Or at least me. And I suspect most men with a neurodivergence.)

If I'm going to be called an asshole and have things assumed about me in the very first response; then why even talk? Because as you're the bad guy if you don't.

This damned if you do and damned if you don't scenario is why some men just go drink in a bar or get high instead of trying to work it out. Divorce may be on the horizon anyhow; so he might as well go out high.

There is nothing that can be said in a conversation that anyone takes the time to remotely consider the effect of; as long as it is said to men.

Emotional games go both ways. If I call her a bitch and hit a wall before walking it off, it all goes in a police report. If she had called him a bitch then actually slapped him, they'd have no issue with that. In fact, in a military relationship that goes south, they advise men to "suck it up." Cops treat it similarly.

And, guess which partner loses everything they own, including self-respect, in a nasty court battle. It won't be her. This has only started to change in the courts.

Apologies made, sincere apologies, regardless of how they are worded; are thrown right in the trash with the base assumption that there is no sincerity because of the eords used.

I agree that men suck at apology. We suck at it because we can't get it right. If it is never taken that way; it is useless to apologize.

You continue a cycle of assumptions about my intent and my character in the response. That leads me to the conclusion that no response would have been sufficient or accepted.

As to "women being emotional soccer balls," let's begin with the premise that men have no idea how to apologize. Or that they are automatically to blame for any relational strife.

Add the demonization of particularly a CIS-hetero male as everyone's enemy.  Add to that the clear disrespect of any man daring to speak up about this at all.

Compound it with the notion that assuming things about his character is automatically the default response.

Then, top it off with the FACT that a partner is all prepared to continue that cycle regardless of what the first partner says.

Do that in a marriage, and you have my original point. Men can't respond to anything without automatic assumption that they are lying, insincere, or attacking when they do respond.

An apology is a statement that acknowledges an action or statement that causes the recipient distress.

An apology is an attempt to rectify a situation.

An apology is given to express remorse for one's actions or words.

But... there cannot be an apology that is suitable, if every attempt is assumed to be false, a lie, or to have a hidden agenda.

To automatically discount any attempt and deflect it or ignore it based on the words used to commence the attempt completely eliminates the possibility of a clear dialog.

[myfandomprompts]

Dubious Headlines | Aemond Short Story (Part 1/3)

Aemond x Reader Modern!AU Masterlist

Synopsis: In a world where Dragon Incorporation is the most powerful firm in town, Rhaenyra Targaryen's last announcement sends you, a journalist, to interview the younger sons of the family. However, you did not ask for any of this.

Viserys Targaryen was sick, and had for many years bequeathed all of his shares in the care of his children. But everybody knew that the Targaryen was a drama family, and that strife was ever present between the different siblings. Lately, the eldest, Rhaenyra, had made an announcement in which she said to intend her branch of the company to take a whole other direction, putting the other branches managed by her brothers and sister in a difficult position.

“Y/N, where are Mathilda and Sam?”

You raised your head from your computer to look at your boss, M. Vander.

“Uh… I don’t know, I have not seen them all morning. Covering the charity event maybe?”

The man looked around desperately, thinking. “Ok then," he decided, eyes darting at you. “In my office please.”

You looked bewildered. You swore that if you he gave more work because Sam and Mathilda had run off again…

“I need you to go to Dragon Incorporation and interview Aegon Tagaryen,” he announced as he sat behind his desk.

You internally cursed. As if you did not have enough work already. “What? Why me? I cover cultural events, I am not…”

“You did hear about Rhaenyra’s announcement right?” he interrupted you.

“Yes, but since when are we interested in gossip, sir?”

“It’s not gossip. It’s gathering impressions on the changes that might have an influence on the citizens of the city. I’m sorry but you are the only one available that is competent enough Y/N.”

Please, anything but this.

“I- I don’t think this is a good idea sir, Mathilda is the one who usually interviews them I-”

“Y/N, I know you will manage perfectly. Take care of this please.”

You deeply inhaled as he dismissed you, nodding and got out of the office.

The reason why you dreaded the interview, except for the fact that it was absolutely not your area of expertise, is that Aegon Targaryen, second son and head of the communication department at Dragon Company, had such a reputation that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. As a journalist, you were usually one of the firsts to learn what was new in town, and Aegon was definitely in the top 5 of the most scandalous things you had seen. Besides the accusations, the trials, the complaints and the police reports that most of the other agencies tried to hide from the public, he was also clearly a man that just did not care about his actions. He liked doing interviews, though, you had seen a draft of Mathilda’s interview with him once. You could not emphasise enough how much she had to remove in order for it to be decent to be published.

You had called your friend on your way to one of the many locations of Dragon Inc., taking your sweet time.

“I am so gonna kill them. They owe me big on this one, being absent today of all days. I hate them.”

“So you managed to get an appointment with him? With Aegon?”

“Uh…. No, I didn’t, not really. I kinda hope that I would just show up and that he would be absent. This way I won’t have to do it at all!” you sighed as you climbed the stairs that led to the offices floor.

“Y/N…Vander will be mad if he realises that you delayed this on purpose.”

“Trust me, if I am not the one who does the interview, he will have no trouble sending someone else, and be a hundred percent more satisfied with them, a clear win for both of us the way I see it.”

You were on the third floor, near the CEO’s office. As you walked through the corridor, you did not see the man who had just exited the elevator, almost bumping into you. He watched you warily as you continued talking loudly over the phone, not bothered at all if you were heard. Who was that woman?

“You are not that bad at interviews… Just go in there, ask the questions and get out, easy.”

“No it’s not! I’m used to report on cultural events, not… whatever this is! Gods I really don’t want to do this, Mathilda told me awful things about him...”

The man was walking behind you at a safe distance, now amused at your ranting. From what he gathered, you were a reporter. Were you here for his brother?

“Yeah, I read the papers too… Are you there yet?”

You were now before the door on which the shining plate of “Aegon Targaryen, Communication Director” was displayed.

You sighed. “Yeah… I’m standing at the door,” you breathed out, looking at your feet, defeated. “Maybe I could just… invent an interview.” Behind you, the man silently laughed at your unprofessionalism, comfortably leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you talk to the door. He was enjoying this far too much.

“You are stalling again… It will be alright. Hang up, and call me when you’re finished.”

“I guess you’re right, I should just, rip the band aid off. Ok… Talk to you soon.”

You hanged up, nervously fidgeting with your phone and puffed. You were staring at the door, gathering the courage to knock. As seconds passed without you moving a muscle, your silent observer then decided to have a little fun. “Can I help you?”

You jumped, startled at the sudden voice so close to you. Arms crossed over his chest, a man was staring at you, the ghost of what you thought to be a smile on his lips. How long has he been there?!

“Oh god you scared me!” you gasped, clutching your hand over your chest. Then you realised how odd your behaviour must have been. “I’m so sorry I was just… umh.”

He arched a brow, waiting for your response. You cleared your throat nervously.

“I came to see Aegon, Aegon Targaryen. I’m Y/N L/N, journalist at The Westerosi.” you smiled awkwardly before extending your hand to him. He looked at you for a moment before taking your hand.

“Aemond Targaryen,” he said as you shook hands.

Of course. You had recognised him at once, a beautiful lilac eye on one side and another piercing prosthetic blue eye on the other, a chiselled jaw line, silver-haired, and so very tall. There stood Aemond Targaryen, the most mysterious of the Targaryen’s siblings. You knew him to be quite intimidating from the pictures you have seen of him, but you did not expect the effect of seeing him in the flesh would have on your body as you let go of his hand. His whole demeanour screamed power and poise. You tried to control the feeling that crept up from your neck to your stomach. You cleared your throat, his intense gaze on you. You nervously fidgeted with your phone again.

“So is he…” you pointed to the door, “Is he in there?” you asked, your voice unsure.

“Yes.”

Aemond simply crossed his arms again, watching you look at the door like if it was an insurmountable obstacle. You were clearly not a fan of his brother.

“Would you like me to knock for you perhaps?” he asked.

“No no! Thank you, I perfectly know how to knock!” you tried to joke as he raised his brow higher. “I just, uhm…”

But then an idea came to your mind. Aemond was the most secretive of his family, never giving interviews, never appearing at social events as much as the others, and he was just there. You didn’t really know if he was as vile as his brother seemed to be, but you knew that if you brought back an exclusive interview of Aemond Targaryen, your boss would be delighted, and might even overlook the fact that you had been… unable to talk to Aegon. You had to take your chance. You turned around to face him.

“Actually, do you have a moment? I am gathering information on the recent changes that occurred in your company. Would you mind answering a few questions…?”

That is an interesting turn of events.

He seemed to pounder the proposition for a moment, and you were certain that he would throw you off, that you had overstepped.

“Very well,” he stated, his face letting nothing appear as you widened your eyes in disbelief. “What do you drink?”

You were so taken aback that you forgot to speak properly.

“Dr-d-” you stammered, “What do I drink?” you repeated.

“Yes. Coffee? Tea? I can have you brought anything you want.”

This man was unsettling. You had to put yourself together. “Uh... no, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Mh.”

His eye was scanning you, and you couldn’t help but fidget on the spot, clearing your throat as you felt naked under his gaze.

“We will be more comfortable in my office. This way.”

Without a glance back at the door you had almost walked in, you followed him to another corridor, and inside a luxurious office. He sat behind his desk, tapped something on his phone and invited you to sit. You did as ordered, thanking him and taking out your pad containing the questions meant for Aegon.

You tried not to be disturbed by the unfaltering stare the second Targaryen son was giving you as you asked question after question. You had quickly rephrased some of them to be more suited for him instead of Aegon, and you thought that it was playing out quite nicely for an unintended interview.

He listened to you attentively, answering each of your questions as concisely as possible, and you could not be anything but impressed by how eloquent he was. You considered it a shame that his family did not use him more in public.

At one point, a beautiful woman that you gathered to be his assistant, entered the room, carrying a hot cup of coffee in hand. Her presence made you stop as she lowered herself to put the cup down next to Aemond, her low cleavage making you regret the fact that you had not taken off your blazer. He thanked her and as she left, her eyes looked at you from head to toe with a sufficient smile before walking her heels to the door and closing it, but not before giving the brightest smile you have ever seen to Aemond. You guessed that being this handsome and rich might have that effect.

He seemed unfazed though as he took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly. You could not help but stare at his throat as he drank the hot liquid, his Adam’s apple slightly pulsating at the movement. You were forced to clear your throat again, snapping out of your trance as he put down the cup.

“So, how would you describe your sister, Rhaenyra, in simple words? How do you see her as a member of your family and as an eminent member of your firm?”

He let your question hang in the air for quite some time, before biting the inside of his cheek and sitting back on his chair. He clearly did not like this one.

“Next question,” he deadpanned.

“I’m sorry?”

“I don’t like that question, so next please.”

You dropped down the pen that was ready to write to look at him with surprise. “You do realise that this interview is about the subdivision of the company, started by your sister.”

“Half-sister. And I understand perfectly. Please continue.”

You hold his gaze for a moment, unsure.

Very well then. “Have you ever considered, as head of the financial branch, to invest in other areas than the one you are currently involved with? Have you ever thought of sponsoring events or… celebrities for instance?”

As he answered your question, relieved that he did not seem crossed by the previous one in any way, you could not help but notice the way he licked his lips as he took another sip of coffee, his tongue slightly peaking out. At this moment, you had completely lost track of what he was saying, and by the time he had finished talking, you internally congratulated yourself for recording the interview on your phone. How very professional of you.

It seemed that your temporary distraction had you more disturbed than you thought as you saw the next question originally written for Aegon on your pad: How does the fact that you work in the same company as your wife influence you r decisions?

This was obviously not a question suited for the man sitting across from you, so you took a moment to try and adapt it to him, but it seemed that you were incapable of coherent thoughts right now.

“Are you involved with anyone?”

The question had left your lips faster than your brain could think. Not that you apparently owned a brain right now by the look of it. You cursed yourself. Big mistake.

You could see how the question had caught him off guard as you blushed and fiddled with your pad, apologising profusely at once.

“I’m so sorry, don’t mind the last one, it was meant for your brother…!” you stammered before realising that it sounded worse. You quickly found the next question, your body heating up.“Where do you see the company in ten years time?”

He had taken a bit more time to answer this one, watching how flustered you were and how your cheeks had reddened, making your skin so appealing to him that he could have sworn that he felt its warmth from this distance. Your nerves were all over the place, but it calmed down as the interview came to an end, taking control of your body again. You thanked him and stood up to shake his hand, promising him to keep him updated.

“Thank you very much for your time, M. Targaryen. I will take your secretary number and notify you when the article will be published.”

He left his place from behind his desk in order to accompany you to the door as you retrieved your coat, bringing with him the sweet scent of sandalwood and coffee. You had to get out of here.

“I look forward to reading it. When you see my brother, please tell him I said to behave.”

Oh. Aegon. It had completely escaped your mind. You undoubtedly felt like you had no obligation at all to go see him now, having obtained the interview of his quite private brother… But you could not tell him that. Instead you just nodded, hoping that he would not accompany you to his brother’s office.

“I will. Although I don’t think I will need anything more from him. I feel like I have everything I need,” you said, tapping on your pad.

“That is a relief. This way you won’t have to… invent an interview. I’m sure your skill lies elsewhere.”

You blushed at this, realising that Aemond had heard a good part of your conversation on the phone. You did not move as he stared at you quite pleased at your reaction.

“I would never… I mean, it was only a joke,” you tried. “I take my job very seriously. It’s just that I am more used to deal with people from other backgrounds.”

“Mh,” he nodded, reaching for the doorknob behind you. You exhaled in relief, the prospect of freedom one move away, but he paused again and did not open the door right away.

“By the way, the answer is no.”

You turned your head to him, almost bumping into his chest. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I am not involved with anyone at the moment.”

You tried to recall when in your life you had been as short of breath as you were now, stuck between the door and the man whose gaze made you feel like the weakest thing on earth. You tried to reply but nothing came, and as you bit your lips in anxiousness you tried not to notice how his eye had quickly lowered to the movement.

He only smirked and opened the door, stepping aside to allow you space. You swallowed as you quickly passed him, hands clutching at your coat in tension.

“Have a good day Miss L/N.”

And then he closed the door, leaving you to face the pretty assistant studying you from behind her desk, clearly annoyed at you, for whatever reason. You rapidly took the contact you needed from her and exited the building, welcoming the fresh air and grabbing your phone, calling your boss right away. Your lungs were on fire.

“Is it done?”

“Well, not exactly. I managed to have much better.” You were overselling it, but it was a miss or hit situation.

“What did you do Y/N?”

“I had obtained a meeting with the one and only Aemond Targaryen! He answered all of the questions on the subdivision, and even managed to get the intel you could not have if it had been with Aegon. This is good for us! You know he rarely gives any interviews.”

You were met with silence.

“Y/N…”

“Listen, I promise you to do the best article I have ever written on Dragon Inc. You will not be disappointed, I swear. Give me a chance Vander.”

“Y/N, how do you think Aegon Targaryen will react if he learns that he had not been consulted first?”

“Do we… really care about that, sir?” you asked, slightly appalled as you considered it.

“He is the main correspondent with our newspaper. Mathilda has always gone to him when we needed insight on Dragon Inc!”

You swallowed. This would not stop you, you had to make it work.

“All due respect sir, if you wanted that kind of interview, you should have sent her, not me. I managed to have an exclusive one and I believe in what I have gathered. You should too.”

Your boss went silent again, and as you saw this as a good sign, that we would be considering it at least, you continued.

“I will send you a draft tonight, and I’ll prove to you that this paper is worth publishing. I can assure you that Aemond’s Targaryen’s insight will raise the reader's interest much more than Aegon’s.”

Some more seconds of silence.

“Very well. I don’t like this, but I trust you Y/N, you have rarely disappointed me. I expect it before tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Then you quickly texted your friend, summarising your encounter with the one-eyed Targaryen before you jumped in a taxi and went home, reading over your notes.

Yep. Aemond Targaryen would not leave your mind any time soon.

Your boss had been happy with the draft, and now you were at your desk, writing the actual article. You had taken your time in scolding Mathilda and Sam, blaming them for forcing you to take on a task you knew would not have you so riled up, but your friends had only sympathised with you, and you had not been able to stay mad at them for long.

By noon the article was finished, and you had to wait for tomorrow’s paper for it to be published. You had managed to progress on your other projects in the meantime, but now it was dark outside and you were the only one left in the office. Again.

The piece of paper next to your keyboard with Aemond Targaryen’s contact information, was now becoming more and more difficult to ignore as you were soon to go home. All day you had glanced at it, hesitating between sending your completed interview to him now or waiting for him to discover it with everyone else in the morning.

Taking a deep breath, you finally took the piece of paper, typed the e-mail address and attached your article to it before thinking of something personal to write.

Nothing came as you simply wrote the most formal of e-mails, giving him the time of publication and thanking him again. As you pressed send, you sat back into your chair and stared at the screen as your mind began to imagine him receiving your e-mail, how his brows would knit together while his eye would dart over the lines you had written.

Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for losing yourself in such thoughts before shutting your computer down. You needed sleep.

Aemond Targaryen had looked your name up as soon as you had departed from his office, curious to know more about the woman who had forsaken his brother and dared ask an interview of him, Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

He stared at the screen with interest as he browsed The Westerosi ’s archives online, seeing the several articles you had written over the years, mostly about city events or local cultural activities, smiling each time he read your comments about this or that particular representation. Now he was having dinner with his family, listening to his mother’s complaints about his eldest sister again, when he felt his phone vibrate. He could not ignore the satisfaction he felt when your name appeared on the screen next to an e-mail, and wasted no time reading what you had sent him. You had done a good job, he liked that you remained factual in your writing, and he could not help the disappointment he felt when he saw the few lines you had written to thank him in your message. As he put down his phone again, he remembered how you never seemed to miss anything that happened in the city. He counted on that.

-0- Part 2

A/N: Any resemblance to a particular book/movie was unintended, I realised it afterwards. (Oops)