#also this cast is just so earnestly delightful

[whatbigteeth]

last episode of acofaf this shit gonna make me cry

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love (6)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC word count | 6.3k words summary | all I'm gonna say is blood and cheese. tags | death, angst/comfort, vampire powers, blood (lots and lots of blood), trauma? aemond and reader can't keep their hands off each other, reader don't play when it comes to helaena, canon divergence note | i still haven't gotten over blood and cheese and phia saban's phenomenal acting in that episode. why is there so many oc fics in the aemond x reader tag (no hate). also contemplating writing for loki and oswald cobblepot (penguin in gotham)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

“I am happy that my mother has let you become my lady-in-waiting,” Helaena murmured, her voice lilting like a gentle breeze.

“As am I, Princess-” you paused before correcting yourself, “My Queen—the presence of the children brings me much comfort.”

“They eagerly anticipate your visits each day,” Helaena replied with a softness in her gaze that seemed to light the room.

Seated beside the young prince Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, whose precocious spirit was beginning to shine, you cast a fond glance at Jaehaerys, who was determinedly practicing his High Valyrian. Leaning closer, you offered him an encouraging smile, “What does this mean, Jaehaerys?”

It had taken some time for your bond with the young prince to flourish. Unlike his sister, who was as lively and eager as a summer’s day, Jaehaerys was quieter, more contemplative. Yet, you noticed that now whenever you attended to your duties for Helaena, while Jaehaera would chatter your ear off cheerfully, her twin would subtly gravitate toward you, seeking comfort as you played delicately with his soft, silver hair.

“Per—perzis ano...anogor?” he stammered, his timid voice breaking the air with a hint of uncertainty.

You couldn’t help but inwardly smile at his effort; the correct pronunciation was “Perzys Anogar.” After five years spent in the sun-kissed lands of Essos, you had perfected the various dialects of High Valyrian to perfection. Yet, your encouragement for the young prince remained unwavering. At just four years old, his intelligence astounded you. “Very good, my sweet prince. And what does it mean?”

“Fire and blood!” Jaehaera exclaimed with unrestrained enthusiasm, hastening to answer before her brother could. Her eyes sparkled with delight, clearly eager to capture your full attention. Jaehaerys shot her a sidelong glance, his lips pressed together in a playful pout, while you directed your gaze to Jaehaera with admiration. “Well done, dear princess.”

"My Queen," came a maid's voice, cutting through the tranquil atmosphere of Helaena's solar. Both you and Helaena shifted your gaze, "Prince Jaehaerys is summoned for his lesson with the Maester."

Helaena, who sat gracefully upon a pile of richly embroidered cushions, her needlework perched delicately in her lap, regarded her son with a tender smile, her serene demeanor offering him encouragement. "Off you go, Jaehaerys," she urged softly.

The small prince nodded earnestly. Before following the maid through the heavy wooden doors he turned to offer you a shy wave, a glimpse of the warmth that sparked beneath his young exterior. As the sound of his footsteps faded into silence, you turned your focus back to Princess Jaehaera, who was nestled in a nearby chair, fixated on the pages of a book filled with tales of dragons and valor, Jaehaerys had been reading. After awhile, your attention shifted as the sound of eager footsteps resonated through Helaena’s solar. You turned to see Aegon striding purposefully toward you and Jaehaera.

"Lady Mikaelson," he acknowledged with a courteous nod, his gaze lingering upon you for an unsettling moment, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine before he redirected his focus to Jaehaera.

“Where is Jaehaerys?” Aegon inquired, a frown settling deeply between his brows, betraying his impatience.

Helaena’s voice was soft as a whisper, yet it held a steady resolve. “Attending his lessons.”

“And those are where?” Aegon pressed, a hint of mockery threading through his tone, forcing back the urge to scoff at his impatience.

Helaena sighed, a delicate sound that barely pierced the air. “What do you need of him?”

Aegon’s lips thinned, “Taking him to the small council,” he announced, straightening his back with lots of fervor, “He'll be king one day, he must begin his instruction.”

With an eye roll barely concealed, you turned to braid Jaehaera's sweet, silver locks, weaving strands as your thoughts tangled around Aegon’s words. Helaena’s brow furrowed slightly, and you caught the hesitation in her voice. “What if he does not wish to be king?”

Aegon’s huff echoed in the chamber, annoyed, as he leaned closer, palms pressing against his knees. “Where is he?”

“In the library,” Helaena replied, her tone tinged with reluctance. “But you must not disturb his custom.”

Aegon, ever dismissive, shrugged off her words and stepped toward the door. Yet he halted when Helaena's voice pierced the silence once more, "I am afraid."

He pivoted on his heel, regarding her with feigned nonchalance. "Don't be. They'd be fools to come with Vhagar protecting the city."

"Not the dragons," Helaena murmured, her gaze dropping to the cold stone floor. "The rats."

Aegon, along with the attendants, followed her gaze, their eyes scanning for any signs of the vermin that might lurk in the shadows.

"The queen is an enduring mystery," Aegon declared, casting a mocking glance at Helaena. "Is she not?"

With that, he departed, leaving a chill in the air. As soon as he crossed the threshold, you rose from your seat and moved to Helaena’s side, offering her a warm smile. "You need not fear the rats; the castle is filled with rat catchers."

Helaena’s frown deepened, her troubled lilac eyes meeting yours as she whispered with conviction, "That is what terrifies me."

Words escaped you, for you understood that Helaena possessed knowledge beyond the grasp of ordinary folk—truths unacknowledged and often dismissed. Instead of voicing your confusion and uncertainty, you simply clasped her hand in yours, offering the silent comfort.

Your gaze shifted, drawn by the soft, deliberate sound of footsteps as they echoed through the confines of Helaena's solar. As you looked up, your heart raced, a rhythmic thudding that quickened with warmth flooding your cheeks and fluttering butterflies stirring restlessly in your stomach. Aemond strode through the door, an unmistakable presence that demanded attention.

It was true what you'd confided to him: you were still a maiden. A maiden, after five centuries of vampiric existence, because how could you interact with any man when Nikaus, Elijah, and Kol perpetually cast watchful shadows over your every move. You recalled a particular moment in 1001 AD, when a reckless infatuation with Tristan de Martel had nearly led you to surrender your maidenhood, only to be halted by Finn’s stern intervention—a chastisement you still felt the sting of.

But Aemond was different. His presence was a siren's call, compelling and irresistible. You had lost yourself in the depths of his gaze, willingly surrendering to the passion that enveloped you, and you never wished to escape the intoxicating spell he wove around you. The ecstasy of your lovemaking had been a revelation, a visceral experience you had never dreamed possible. Despite your initial attempts to keep a distance, Aemond's determination had eroded every barrier you'd erected, and then, as you laid in the warm afterglow of those stolen moments, regret was a distant memory.

In that act, surrounded by pleasure, Aemond had awakened a sense of aliveness within you that you had not felt since you had died. His touch and words made you feel cherished, loved—deep down, you had longed for this connection. Mere days had passed since you had shared that intimate bond, yet every time your eyes met his, unbidden warmth flushed your cheeks anew.

He lingered his gaze on you for what felt like an eternity, an unspoken connection hanging heavily in the air, before directing his attention to Helaena. "Sister," he began, his tone both respectful and confident, "might I steal a moment of Lady Mikaelson's time?"

Helaena glanced between you and Aemond, a subtle spark of understanding dancing in her eyes as she nodded, a gentle smile touching her lips. "Of course, brother."

Rising slowly from your seat, you were acutely aware of the curious gazes from the other ladies in the room. Yet, before you could fully separate yourself from Helaena's side, her hand shot out, delicately grasping your wrist. "Will you come to bid Jaehaerys goodnight before you retire?" Helaena's voice slipped through the air like a delicate melody, inviting yet tinged with uncertainty.

You offered a reassuring nod, your voice soft and warm. "Of course, My Queen."

With that, you turned to Aemond, his patience evident as he awaited your move. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, the sound of his footsteps fell steadily in rhythm with yours. Once you had retreated far enough from the safety of Helaena's chambers, you paused and turned to him, your voice laced with curiosity, “What did you wish to—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Aemond's hands cradled your face, pulling you into an unexpected kiss. Surprise rippled through you, manifesting in a soft gasp, but you quickly surrendered to the moment, your lips responding to his with eager warmth. An exhilarating pulse of intimacy washed over you as you opened your mouth, inviting the dance of his tongue with yours, a sweet entanglement that momentarily erased the world around you.

When at last Aemond broke the kiss, his breath came heavy and laden with unspoken emotions, and he pressed his forehead against yours, that mischievous violet eye glinting with resolve. "I plan to go to the small council to announce our betrothal."

Your breath caught in surprise as you took a small step back, trying to comprehend his words. “Betrothal?” The weight of his intentions settled heavily on your heart.

A marriage with him would be folly; he was a prince, destined for heirs and an aging legacy, while you—a vampire—would remain eternally youthfully beautiful, bound to a dead womb. Yet his audacity ignited a spark of indignation in you, prompting a petulant response, “Aemond, you didn’t even ask me.”

A small, infuriating smirk played upon his lips, a faint acknowledgment of your protest. “Will you marry me then?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “How very romantic of you.” The gravity of the moment drew your expression into something more serious as you continued, “Aemond, we are bracing ourselves for war—planning a wedding now would be utterly misplaced.”

“It will be a beacon of hope for the smallfolk,” he argued earnestly, the conviction in his voice palpable.

"At the cost of the kingdom’s coin," you countered sharply, your voice laden with reality.

He dismissed your worries with a wave of his hand, as though to sweep away the logic. “Then we’ll have something modest—”

“Aemond,” you chided softly, lifting your hands to cradle his chiseled face. At your delicate touch, he fell silent, his fierce demeanor momentarily quelled. Deep down, you were acutely aware that his determination to wed you would remain unyielding. In a bid to find common ground you decided to offer an empty concession, “Let us marry after the war.”

His solitary violet eye bore into yours, piercing deeper as if seeking to unravel the very essence of your soul. "You swear it," he demanded, his voice a low thrum of intensity.

Inside, a tumult stirred; 'No,' your thoughts whispered, for you could not predict the war's course. The Iron Throne rightfully belonged to Rhaenyra, and the Blacks appeared poised to triumph. Yet, your heart was tethered to the Greens, bound by an affection that defied reason. The weight of it all threatened to crush you, leading you to contemplate escape back to your world, to your family—a choice that would certainly bring Niklaus's wrath upon you.

But with a deep breath, you embraced the moment, nodding serenely as you wove your words into a gentle lie. "I swear it."

Aemond's gaze lingered in your eyes, a moment stretched between you like the fragile threads of fate. As he nodded, a wave of relief washed over you, warm and undeniable. Yet, as if sealing your pact, his lips found yours once more, igniting a tempest within your heart. The weight of your deception pressed heavily upon you, yet you surrendered to the solace of his kiss, seeking refuge in its intoxication.

The kiss deepened, evolving into something more fervent, as Aemond gently ushered you backward until your back met the cold stone wall. His tongue danced with yours, a fierce desire eclipsing the trepidation that lingered in your mind, as if he sought to claim not merely your lips but your very essence.

A sudden noise pricked at your senses, the swift approach of footsteps echoing through the hallway. In a flurry of instinct, you pushed Aemond away just as a servant passed by. The servant’s gaze flicked towards you, then promptly fell to the ground, yet you could almost feel the unspoken thoughts swirling in their mind. A shiver of apprehension ran through you; you knew whispers would soon scatter among the servants like leaves in the wind.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Aemond clasped your hands, his grip a mix of desperation and longing. "I yearn to be with you again," he mused, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within your core.

"I feel the same," you replied softly, bringing his hands to your lips in a tender gesture, savoring the skin you coveted.

Alas, the moment was fleeting, as the sound of hurried footfalls approached again prompting the two of you to separate once more. Aemond exhaled, a hint of irritation lacing his tone. "And yet, in this castle, we are forever denied our privacy."

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. "What do you propose?"

He paused, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, before his lips parted to reveal his audacious suggestion. "The Street of Silk."

"Aemond—" you interjected, surprise and concern overtaking your thoughts.

"Calm yourself," he urged, his hands finding their way to your waist, drawing you closer, the warmth of his body burning away your reservations. "We would seek only a room, nothing more. A night enveloped in our own secret, away from prying eyes."

A hesitant sigh escaped your lips, your heart fluttering at the prospect yet tethered by caution. "Aemond."

In a tender gesture, he kissed your forehead, followed by soft pecks on your cheeks, then lingered with his lips brushing against yours. It was pathetic how quickly you melted under his affection, yearning for the contact that ignited a fire within you. His voice, barely above a whisper, danced against your lips, "Tonight?"

With a surrender that surprised even yourself, you acquiesced. "Alright." His eye sparkled with triumph as he finally pressed his lips against yours, granting you the sweetness you craved.

Yet, he broke away, his breath mingling with yours. "I shall meet you at your chambers—"

"No," you countered softly, concern lacing your words. "It would be dangerous for us to be seen leaving the castle together."

He regarded you with a stern expression, a protective glimmer in his eye as he shook his head. "Fleabottom is no place for a lady to wander alone."

You smiled gently at his earnestness, reassured him with conviction, "I’ll be fine, Aemond. I promise."

With a resigned sigh from you, he leaned in to steal another kiss, the taste of his resolve lingering. "Then it is settled. Meet me at the Blue Pearl tonight."

“I will,” you vowed, your mind clouded by the intoxicating pull of his presence, rational thought slipping away like sand through fingers.

The Keep lay shrouded in an eerie silence as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor from your chambers. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the very walls held their breath, rendering the castle a hollow shell. With purpose, you made your way toward the Queen’s chambers, determined to fulfill your promise to Helaena and bid the twins a gentle goodnight.

You wrapped your cloak tightly around your shoulders, bracing against the biting winds that swept through the stone hallways. A sense of foreboding clawed at your thoughts, quickening your steps as you approached Helaena's solar.

As you neared her chambers, the quiet was shattered by a pained whimper—a sound that sent a chill racing down your spine. Without hesitation, you pushed through the door, only to freeze in shock at the scene before you. A filthy man loomed over Helaena, his grip merciless as he held a knife to her delicate throat. The metallic scent of her blood hung heavy in the air, as you noticed a small nick on her neck.

Your instincts flared to life, propelling you forward to confront the intruder. But before you could move, strong arms encircled you, halting your advance. "Who the fuck is she?" the brute growled, his gaze locked onto the man who held Helaena captive.

“She’s the queen she is,” the crazed man replied, a sickly laugh escaping his lips, his gaze dancing between you and Helaena, relishing the chaos.

“A son for a son, he said,” came the rough retort of the man holding you, his grip tightening like a vice. “Does she look like a fucking son to you?”

The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—revenge. These madmen had been sent by the Blacks, likely by Daemon himself, to claim a son in return for Lucerys Valaryon.

Pointing with a blood-stained finger, the deranged man holding Helaena, gestured to the cribs across the room, where Jaehaerys and Jaehaera lay asleep, vulnerable to the whims of fate. “Over there,” he sneered, a glint of madness flashing across his eyes.

A chilling wave of nausea washed over you as dread seeped into your heart, realizing the intent behind his actions. Yet, even with the unfathomable power you possessed, you hesitated. You could kill these men in mere moments, reduce them to shredded pieces, but the fear in Helaena’s wide eyes anchored you. You could not afford to frighten her further.

“Release her,” you commanded, your tone a blend of authority and menace, ever mindful of the trembling figure of the queen. “You do not know the darkness you invite with your intentions”

The grip of the man holding you tightened, his fingers like iron shackles, deaf to your words. Instead, the madman holding Helaena chortled, an unsettling sound that grated against your nerves. "We need to get our head and get out."

A simmering rage ignited within you at his vile insinuation, your voice turning low and menacing as you retorted, "If you dare imply what I think, know that your life shall end before you can ever look upon the prince."

The large brute, his bulk a grotesque parody of strength, pressed his clammy hand against your throat, constricting it as he growled, "Shut your fucking mouth, woman."

In that chilling moment, Helaena found her voice, her eyes wide with terror as they darted between you and the man’s tightening grasp. "I have a necklace," she stammered, her heart echoing her fear, "It's of great value."

The man holding you scoffed, his eyes narrowing with disdain. "That’s not a son."

His grip tightened further, but to you, it was nothing more than the grasp of a mere mortal, a fleeting nuisance. With an air of fatalistic calm, you shrugged, “I’ve warned you, and now you shall reap the consequences.”

As the darkness of your true nature surged, crimson flames ignited in your gaze. Veins suffused with blood snaked under your skin and the sharp glint of fangs elongated in exquisite hunger. The man holding Helaena faltered, the smile that once adorned his lips vanished, replaced by a primal terror as he regarded you. “What’s—what’s happening to your face?!”

Confusion roiled in the eyes of the man who had once held your throat captive. Before he could fully comprehend the depths of his error, you moved with the swiftness of a striking snake, your head whipping around as you buried your fangs deep into his pallid flesh. His scream reverberated like a death knell against the stone.

With one fierce tug, you tore into him—a vicious rip that sent a warm spray of blood cascading over your face, painting your features in hues of crimson. The brute’s body slackened, his grip fading as life bled from him like the night fleeing before dawn. He crumpled to the ground dead.

Your attention shifted, a predatory glare now focused on the other man, who quivered holding Helaena securely but fearfully at knifepoint. His confidence wavered as your fury ignited the air around you, and he stepped back, terror threading his voice, “If you come any closer, I swear I’ll kill her—”

In a heartbeat, you were before him. Your eyes cooled to an earthly hue, compelling yet cold, as your voice held the weight of your compulsion. “Step away from the queen."

The resolve in his eyes shattered, obedience taking root as he released Helaena, fear transforming into a savage obedience. But that was not enough; oh no, they would pay dearly for their actions. You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a whisper laced with venom. “Now… stick your knife in your throat.”

Tears cascaded down his cheeks, streaming with unspoken horror as he felt the weight of your will. Whimpering like a child at the mercy of a storm, he struggled against the compulsion, but your magic throbbed through the air, binding him tighter within your grasp. The dagger trembled in his hand before the metal found flesh, cutting deeply as crimson blessing spilled forth. He gasped, choking as despair overwhelmed him, stabbing again and again until his last breath escaped into the silence of the room, and dropped to the ground.

In the wake of such violence, as blood pooled and splattered across the cold floor, your features softened, the fierce gleam fading from your visage. Your fangs retracted, and your eyes reverted to their natural colour, the monstrous visage slipping away like a shadow at dawn.

A tumult of emotions swirled within you—fear, regret—until your gaze flicked to Helaena, ready to face the disgust you expected. Yet, as her eyes met yours, confusion twisted within you; there was no horror, no disgust in her gaze—only a profound relief.

You took a hesitant step back, bewildered by her calm demeanor. "Are you not afraid of me?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her brow furrowed in genuine confusion as she softly said, “You saved us."

You realized she might be still grappling with the shock, as she drifted across the room, her movements fluid and deliberate. She bypassed the gruesome scene left in your wake, retrieving a handkerchief with an unsettling nonchalance. Approaching you with a tender resolve, she reached forth, seeking to wipe the blood from your face. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality that had just unfolded.

Yet, as the fabric of her care swept across your skin, your brow furrowed at the sight of tears beginning to brim in Helaena's eyes. “Helaena—what's wrong?” you implored, clasping her trembling hands firmly within yours. “You need not fear; all is well now, you are safe.”

Her tears continued to spill softly, tracing delicate paths down her pale cheeks, as she whispered in a voice that seemed to drift like a dream, “I thought I was lost in one of my dreams. I did not realize it was the truth laid bare before me.”

“It was,” you replied gently, your voice a quiet promise. “But it is over now.”

“If you had not been here, Jaehaerys would be—” she faltered, her composure cracking as a choked sob escaped her lips.

You could only watch her, sorrow etched upon your face, as she turned away from you and hurried to the crib where Jaehaerys slept, oblivious to the tempest that had transpired around him and his sister. Slowly, she lifted the sleeping boy into her arms, his silver hair catching the light like stars against the night sky. She cradled him tightly, swaying gently as if to soothe not just him, but the remnants of her own grief.

“They almost took my boy,” Helaena murmured, her voice a soft lament, entwined within the strands of Jaehaerys’ hair, as if she sought comfort in his very existence.

Aemond exhaled sharply as he finally approached the entrance of the Blue Pearl, its facade gleaming with a deceptive allure. He paused for a moment, memories swirling like smoke from the incense within—each recollection a weight pressing down upon him, reminding him of the last time he had stepped through these doors.

As he crossed the threshold into the brothel, the atmosphere assaulted his senses: the heady scent of incense mingled with the intoxicating sounds of fervent moans and whispered promises that echoed through the dimly lit chambers. The air was thick with a palpable energy, a collision of desire and desperation.

Maintaining a cold and stoic demeanor, Aemond navigated the labyrinth of shadowy corners and silken drapes, his singular focus on securing a room where you both could retreat from the burdens of the outside world, if only for a fleeting night. Under the enveloping darkness of his hooded cloak, he radiated an aura of menace; others instinctively parted before him, quaking under the weight of his dangerous glare.

However, his composure faltered for just a moment when he felt a delicate hand brush against his arm. A surge of indignation coursed through him, instincts honed to ready his strike against anyone who dared encroach upon his space—anyone, that is, who was not you.

Yet, upon turning, he found himself face to face with the last person he wished to encounter. Madam Sylvi, the proprietor of this establishment, stood before him, her presence a haunting reminder of a past he had sought to forget. She was the first woman to lay claim to him, a forced initiation into a world of shadows that had snatched away his boyhood, all at the insidious urging of his brother. Aemond's heart raced, caught between the clutches of anger and the bitter taste of old wounds that threatened to resurface.

"My Prince," she began, her lips curving into what she believed to be a beguiling smile. To Aemond, however, it appeared more akin to a grimace painted upon her features. "What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you once again in these halls."

Feeling a tide of shame wash over him, he averted his gaze, staring intently at the carved wooden floor beneath his feet. “All I seek is a room,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

"And which girl shall I send to warm your bed?" she teased, her tone dripping with seduction. Then, with a coy pause, she added, "Or perhaps you are in need of a woman instead?"

He clenched his jaw, his frustration rising. “Just a room,” he insisted, his voice firm, yet faltering.

She let out a soft, lilting hum, feigning disappointment. “A shame,” she purred, her fingers trailing along his arm—a gesture that made his skin crawl. “But know that my arms are always open, especially for you.”

The urge to retaliate surged within him; he imagined the swift, savage justice he could enact. Yet, he found himself rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the memory of their past encounters—memories that danced like shadows in his mind, haunting him still.

Clearing his throat, he risked a glance in her direction, his resolve strengthening. “A Lady will come through your doors. Instruct her where to find me.”

With that, he turned on his heel, striding away before she could utter another word.

Not long after, five figures had made their way into Helaena's solar, their presence a stark contrast to the brutality that had enveloped the chamber moments before. A maid, having spotted one of the trespassers who had slipped into the shadows, acted on her apprehension and sought out a guard.

This led to Lord Otto Hightower being summoned, and he, it seemed, was the sole soul present who maintained the decorum expected of his station. He had seized Aegon with the kind of authoritative grip one might use on a mischievous pup caught reveling in intoxication on the Iron Throne, before promptly calling for Lord Larys.

In due course, Queen Alicent and Ser Criston appeared, ostensibly by chance, though you with your keen senses could detect the unmistakable scent of their shared intimacy lingering upon them, a confirmation of their clandestine liaison.

You sat beside Helaena, who cradled Jaehaerys to her chest as if to shield him from the undercurrents of chaos swirling around them. In your arms, you held Jaehaera, both twins blissfully unaware, lost in the serenity of slumber.

“Who dared to do this? I demand to know! Who is responsible?” Aegon's voice erupted, slicing through the stillness with an edge of fury. News of the attempted assassination against his son had ignited the embers of his inebriated stupor into a roaring blaze of rage. You cast him a disapproving glare, a silent rebuke for his outburst, mindful of the slumbering children.

“The man uttered, ‘a son for a son, he said,’ I suspect he was referring to Prince Daemon, Your Grace,” you interjected softly, your voice a steady balm amidst the tumult.

Alicent, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, approached Helaena, settling beside her. She reached out tenderly, her fingers brushing against the peaceful features of sleeping Jaehaerys, you could see how guilt was feasting upon her soul.

"These villains, these traitors," Aegon spat, his words laced with venom. The anguish of nearly losing his heir carved lines of distress into his face, revealing that beneath the hardened exterior, perhaps Aegon did possess a heart capable of love. "My son is my legacy. My son is heir to the iron throne!”

His gaze then turned, sharp and accusatory, to Ser Criston, whose presence loomed in the doorway. "And where were you, Ser Criston? The Lord Commander of my King's Guard slumbers while my blood is threatened?"

You noted how Alicent’s expression tightened with concern as she cast a furtive glance toward Criston, who stared resolutely at the stone floor, his shame palpable. "I was abed, Your Grace, having dispatched orders to the Night's Watch," he replied.

"Abed?" Aegon echoed, incredulity lacing his words. "While your post was to safeguard the sanctity of my family?"

The Hand let out a weary sigh from his position at the periphery of the room. "Calm yourself, Aegon. The prince still lives," he interjected, attempting to quell the rising tide of tension.

"Yes," Aegon yelled, his attention shifting to you, "only because of Lady Mikaelson. A woman! All of you should hang your heads in shame."

You inhaled sharply at Aegon's jab, which he unknowingly let out. Lord Larys, his gaze insidious and lingering, leaned forward with a slithering curiosity. "What I truly wish to understand is how you managed to subdue two fully grown men, my lady."

The weight of every gaze in the room now turned to you, even Aegon momentarily relinquished his tirade to await your reply. You spoke with steady conviction, "I grew up among five brothers, My Lord. The dance of a blade is not foreign to me." Your voice joined the whispers of the past, your eyes glancing at the first man you had killed. "The first was a brute, slow in his approach. The second, however, was a madman, blinded by insanity."

"It matters not how she accomplished it," Aegon interjected, his impatience barely concealed, "The only thing that matters is she saved Jaehaerys' life."

A wave of relief washed over you as the next figure entered Helaena's solar, a dim light spilling in from the hallway. Aemond's gaze instantly locked onto the grim scene before him, his single eye widening as it fell upon the two lifeless bodies, bloodied and sprawled across the elegant stone floor. “What has happened here?” he demanded.

Aegon's temper flared like wildfire at the sight, stepping forward to confront Aemond, but the latter remained unruffled, his expression a picture of cool composure amidst the turmoil. “And where were you, while my son lay nearly murdered in his own bed?”

“On patrol, brother,” Aemond replied, his tone smooth and casual, though the lie dripped with an unsettling ease. His eyes then landed on you, his brow furrowing as concern flickered across his striking features. Ignoring Aegon entirely, he approached you, noting the streaks of crimson marring your skin. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softening.

As his hand reached towards your face, you instinctively recoiled, acutely aware of the watchful eyes surrounding you both. “It is not my blood, Your Highness,” you assured him.

Aegon's voice roared again, filling the solar like a tempest. “What course shall we take now? How do we retaliate?” His frustration echoed off the walls.

You could hear Otto Hightower’s resigned sigh. “This is not a moment for rash vengeance, Aegon. Perhaps there is some good may yet come of this.”

“I will not be seen as weak,” Aegon ground out, determination hardening his features.

“You’re already seen as weak, Aegon,” Otto replied with cold clarity, counting off each grim incident, “A hasty coronation, a dragon escaping the pit. The people see an omen. They whisper in the streets. They say, perhaps Rhaenyra should be queen.”

"Let us thus feign that the deed is done, that her assassination was successful." He paused, his keen gaze settling upon the slumbering form of little Jaehaerys. “You would name her: monster. Slayer of infants. I would do more than that—a funeral procession. We shall construct a small casket for Jaehaerys and let the realm gaze upon the handiwork of this pretender who seeks the crown.”

“Your grand design has a singular flaw, Grandsire,” Aegon spat, stepping protectively in front of Helaena and the sleeping child, his posture defiant. “Jaehaerys lives. His existence cannot be kept hidden within these stone walls; word of his survival will soon seep through the cracks.”

“Not if we send him away—this very night,” Otto replied, his voice resolute, a calculated glint igniting his gaze.

“No,” Helaena murmured, instinctively tightening her embrace around Jaehaerys, as if her warmth alone could shield him from danger.

“No!” Aegon echoed, his tone thunderous compared to Helaena’s whisper. “It is far too dangerous for him beyond these castle walls.”

“And yet,” Lord Hightower replied, his tone sharp as a dagger, “he came dangerously close to death even within them.”

“Then where shall he go?” Alicent broke her silence, her voice carrying the weight of desperation.

The Lord Hand fell silent, his brow furrowed in contemplation, before his keen gaze shifted toward you. “Lady Mikaelson,” he began, a shrewd glint of ambition glimmering in his eyes, “your family resides in the Reach, do they not?”

"Indeed, Lord Hand," you replied smoothly, a lie slipping from your lips with practiced ease. You anticipated his intentions even before he continued. "We lie just beyond Golden Grove."

“Ah, that lies near Highgarden,” Otto mused, his mind racing with possibilities before breaking the stillness of the room, “The Tyrells have pledged neutrality, rendering it one of the scant havens in all of Westeros. Thus, it is decided: Jaehaerys shall journey there with Lady Mikaelson tonight. She has protected Jaehaerys once and now she will do so again.”

Aegon, his fingers brushing through Jaehaerys's soft curls as he rested, sighed in reluctant agreement. "Very well, but I demand that half of the White Cloaks accompany them."

Otto scoffed derisively, shaking his head. "No, such a show of force would raise too many suspicions. We can spare only two, perhaps four at the most."

"It would be swifter and safer by dragonback," Aemond interjected, his voice threading through the tension in the room. You turned to meet his gaze, which seemed to be focused only on you, "I can take Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys upon Vhagar."

Otto Hightower’s brow furrowed in disapproval. "That would be far too conspicuous."

“Then I shall accompany them,” Aemond asserted, his determination hardening like steel.

"No," Aegon countered firmly, his tone brooking no dissent. "We need you here."

Before Aemond could mount another argument, you rose from your seat, gently moving the sleeping Jaehaera into Alicent's waiting arms. Your voice rang out, steady and resolute amidst the rising tempests of conflict. “It is alright," you spoke clearly, “I will go.”

If Aemond ever met the Mikaelsons...

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@barnes70stark @izabell26 @anyisaravia2001 @urdeftonesgrrrl @helo1281917 @strangefunthornqueen @ellie-xOxo @hueanhdang @elenapri0502 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @caged-birdies-blog @darktrashsoulbear @lenavonswartzschild @writtenbyhollywood @gl4ssw1ngp1xy @goddesslilithmoriarty @sunset18rose @filmflux @esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @void21 @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @ln8118 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 26 – Pale Lights by ErraticErrata

Okay technically this is a web serial, not a book – you can find it here – but a) it’s divided into ‘books’ and the first one recently finished, b) I’ve read like 350,000 words of it at this point and c) I want to talk about it a bit.

So, Pale Lights is a fantasy adventure story, set in a world where some prehistoric cataclysm left humanity living in a truly vast (multi-continental) cavern beneath the earth, full of old gods and devils and a darkness that will sink into you if you go too long without exposing yourself to the Glare of light spilling down from various openings in the firmament (and potentially stored in a variety of magic devices). It stars Tristain, a conman and gutter rat who accidentally killed the wrong man, and Angharad, a minor noblewoman fleeing assassins after the slaughter of her family, as they flee their enemies into the theoretical safety of the Watch, a sovereign military order that might get you killed hunting down rogue devils but is more than powerful enough to offer amnesty to all its recruits and force everyone else to go along with it. Specifically they both try to join through the fastest and most guaranteed method there is – survive and pass the trials on the Dominion of Lost Things, and your spot among their ranks is totally assured.

As you might expect, this doesn’t exactly go according to plan for either of them.

The plot’s sufficiently full of twists and detours that I’m not going to bother trying to give any sort of detailed synopsis, but one incredibly endearing thing about the whole serial is that it’s structured around these three deadly trials intended to test one’s mettle and worthiness, and absolutely none of them go according to plan. Which, speaking as someone who is generally left pretty annoyed by stories where the entire plot is ‘and then the protagonist surpassed the entirely artifical problems an outside authority put in front of them, meeting expectations perfectly!’, I really did greatly enjoy.

The plot was also just satisfyingly and surprisingly brutal – EE’s previous gargantuan serial was explicitly (though increasingly theoretically as it went on) YA, and made plot armour an explicit part of the setting’s metaphysics. Pale Light is...very much that. There were several points where it felt like at least one named, fleshed out character with their own arc was dying horribly every chapter. Bracing! Relatedly, and necessary for that, the cast is big, into the dozens of fleshed out characters the plot leaves behind and goes back to whenever they’re relevant or on screen again. Which is the sort of indulgence you can get away with in a web serial. (I’ve actually seen a lot of people complain that the cast was too large or hard to keep to track of. Those people are weak.)

Speaking of characters – the supporting cast is great, and a decent number of them are well-drawn and earnestly compelling, but a story like this really lives or dies on the strength of its protagonists. And I’d say Pale Lights passes that test with flying colours – Tristain and Angharad are both more than strong enough to carry a story on their own, but jumping between them lets the story have a lot of fun with their biases and what they assume or overlook, and their (very different and often wildly misinformed) perspectives on each other, their goals, and the supporting cast are just a joy. EE’s always had a real talent for internal monologue and character voice (even in my least-favorite bits of A Practical Guide to Evil, Cat’s perspective was a consistent delight), and being able to consistently jump between and develop two here really makes them shine.

The fact that they’re both a) actually adults, b) morally dubious and c) incredibly devoted to a particular sense of morality and ethics that’s minimum 30 degrees off anything conventionally ‘good’ helps a lot, too. Tristain my beloved shameless vendetta-obsessed will-knife-anyone-but-his-closest-friends-without-a-second-thought gutter rat.

It’s actually really quite interesting how, despite one being a chivalry-obsessed bravo whose word is her bond and so finesses her oaths and promises like a mobbed up lawyer and the other being a street criminal second story man with a sideline in poisons, they’re both really incredibly defined by a fixation on loyalty and vengeance.

The setting is interesting, though the narrative does sometimes feel a bit like it’s straining under the weight of all the weirdness piled onto it, with the whole ‘everyone’s underground and 90% of light is artificial’ thing. The various gods are all interestingly eldritch, especially Tristain and Angharad’s patrons (Fortuna probably my third favourite character in the whole thing overall), the devils and lemures and monsters are all fucked up and horrifying in a really fun way, and the magic is appropriately occult-seeming.

I’m not sure if it’s good or bad, exactly, but I do find the utter shamelessness with which EE copies real world cultures to create fantasy counterparts kind of endearing? I really can’t overstate how incredibly obvious it is that, like, ‘this empire is based on the Aztecs. They border this feudal mess based on India, and this league of Republics based on China. The main city the story launched from is Venice. The big creepy cursed academy is called the Scholomance. The treaty with the devils binding them not to eat people is called the Iscariot Accord. Die mad about it.” Gives the whole thing a real tabletop RPG setting vibe, honestly.

Anyway, can’t really say to what degree my attachment to this was built from the Stockholm Syndrome of following it week-to-week, but probably one of my favourite stories read this year, and eagerly looking forward to book 2.

[suffersinfandom]

Okay, so I usually try to stay out of discourse and drama and all of that because I'm here to have a nice time, but I saw a post in the OFMD tag after the whole Blackbonnet/Stucky poll thing that I really need to type about. It's just... so bad. Like, I totally get disliking things (I dislike things too!), and I understand that OFMD isn't everyone's thing, but wow. WOW. Um.

While the first part's annoying (point to the tumblr fandom that has absolutely no one in it with a victim complex, please), what I really take issue with is the last bit -- the assertion that OFMD's cast diversity is there to be "inclusive" and "progressive" when the narrative isn't. That's just not true? One of the reasons for OFMD's popularity IS its inclusiveness! People who have never seen themselves represented in a show finally *see themselves* in some of these characters, and I think that's lovely. And the show has a wonderfully diverse crew behind the scenes and in the writing room as well!

As for "the narrative being the opposite"... all I can do is assume that OP never bothered watching OFMD. It's the most genuinely, earnestly inclusive and progressive piece of media I've ever consumed.

The acting in OFMD isn't stylistically different from any other show I've watched. The situations and lines are often comedic, Stede and Ed are definitely prone to dramatics, and plenty of the characters are pathetic (affectionate), but this is such a weird critique. Or maybe I just haven't picked anything up from a lifetime of watching media and being a massive dorkass theater nerd? Idk. Maybe they just think the show itself is cringe (I certainly don't think it is, but that's something I've seen plenty of folks who dislike it say) and that colors their opinion on the acting?

Also: where's the slavery apologism? As many other people have said, there's definitely room for good faith criticism of OFMD: its tendency to gloss over the existence of slavery, the rom-comification of real, historic slaveowners, etc, but there's no apologia in the text of the show. (Correct me if I'm wrong! I'm very white and will defer to others here.)

I'm gonna need some sources. I've seen the various accusations, but never evidence or anything that couldn't potentially be explained with context. (I don't actually take much issue with this point -- it's not a crime to think someone's annoying -- I just don't understand the constant vilification of Taika.)

"REAL gay piracy," lol. I can't say much about Black Sails since I haven't watched it (tbh it doesn't sound like something I'd be able to enjoy), but I haven't seen that much seriousness in the OFMD fandom. Do I have all of the annoying crewmates blocked? Do y'all feel like you have a lot to prove? I personally only became invested in this poll when I saw the death threats from Stucky folks, and my impression from my timeline is that most everyone else was in the same boat.

If you ARE taking these polls to heart, please don't! They're for fun (sometimes petty) fandom drama! Win or lose, we all love our ships and our communities and we really don't need to prove anything to anyone (I say, typing out a response to a thing that got under my skin, resolutely not touching grass).

THIS is where I had to start typing. WHAT DOES IT MEAN. How is a show with multiple canon queer couples gaybaiting? Isn't "canon gaybait" an oxymoron, or has the meaning changed? (I'm old, genuinely lmk if my millennial ass is missing something.) Again, I can only assume that OP either hasn't watched OFMD or hates fun romcoms, because the gayness of it all isn't the only thing the show has to offer. My brainworms have better taste than that.

It's some of the best gay rep I've ever seen and I would be delighted to see better! I mean it! I've been in queer circles for almost two decades and in fandom even longer; OFMD is some of the best, kindest, most loving, genuine representation I've come across in that time. I truly hope that it's just the beginning of a new era in media.

"Weak fandom output." I am *drowning* in fandom output and I love that for me! "Driest gay kiss." I'm sorry you don't like awkward middle-aged men who think they're unlovable coming together in what might very well be the first loving kiss either of them has ever had, but I think it's very sweet and moving! No fictional characters have ever owned my brain like this before! I love my silly traumatized queer pirates who can't communicate to save themselves. They're very beautiful to me.

Anyway, that's enough of that. I've released the pettiness and I'm going to go back to being annoying about seeing the lads again in just a few more days. <3

[candyheartedchy]

happy new years! just wanted to say it's been wonderful getting to know you and talk with you over the last year. i'm consistently warmed by your friendliness and kind heart, the way you express yourself so earnestly that i never doubt your sincerity. i wish more people were like you, as the world would be a much happier place. thank you for being my friend, chy. uvu

Happy New Year to you too Cast!! Meeting you has been a delight and honor. I always enjoy our talks and I’m just blown away by your kindness and creativity! I’m happy to call you my friend and I hope this new year treats you kindly, but also allows you to grow and experience the joys in life you deserve! And may you always find comfort in everything you do and remember to be kind to yourself!

[chungledown-bimothy]

1. I hate the way people talk about pc choices, especially the intrepid heroes. I feel like people forget these are people dedicated to portraying a character earnestly, not trying to make the most likable and perfect person.

2. I wish we could have another all college humor cast! I loved mice and murder and the whole vibe was great

1- maybe it's just bc i've been good/lucky with how i've curated my experience in the d20 fandom, but fortunately i don't see much of that. but yeah, that's an all too common issue and definitely not d20 specific.

it boils down to media literacy (and a bit of the purity culture bullshit). but honestly i think, like basically everything, there is room for a lot more nuance than i see most of the time.

the ruehob hot take is, if i'm understanding you right, a good example of this.

if they were real people, yeah it'd a horrifically unhealthy relationship that they shouldn't have gotten into in the first place. but also it is a realistic and also interesting and fun story-telling way to go with things.

these are not mutually exclusive thoughts, and that space between the two of them is SUCH a fun place to explore.

2- in general, i agree. i didn't finish mice and murder, i got busy with other things and lost interest, but the vibe was mostly really great. one of my biggest hot takes is that i think katie is super annoying, but god yeah everyone else was so much fun.

sam's GOTTA be part of it again if they do it. the sam vs brennan narrative that dropout has rolling is delightful and i think dnd is such a fun space for them to whomp each other.

[omegatheunknown]

Top 10 of 2023 -- Theatrical Releases

Started using letterboxd as a journal two years ago, mostly so I could remember just how recently I'd watched Big Trouble in Little China or Hot Fuzz, but also to hit 'em with of the moment reviews and ratings fresh from the theatre. Which is to say, I'm a little nervous to see what'll come up at the top, but let's take a trip.

10- The Boogeyman (**1/2) - Technically in theatres for a week or two. Buried otherwise, a low stakes King adaptation/remake/reboot that makes the list so I don't have to say anything about AntMan, Elemental, Renfield, or, god forbid, Mario. Effective horror, kind of a neat creature at the center of it, pleasantly surprised that I didn't hate it.

9- Asteroid City (***) - Did lead to a minor personal epiphany, so not all bad. The amount of meta-fictional artifice (lest we for a second want to empathize or consider Wes' paper doll characters in his paper doll theatre as being recognizably human) has gone well-beyond the 'as Royal Tenenbaum' and 'let me tell you about my boat,' past the authorial frame of the Grand Budapest and as of The French Dispatch, Mssr Anderson is now almost entirely preoccupied with stories within stories and it is actually very annoying. (The minor epiphany is that I have also been doing this, as metafiction delights me too, Wes, but why should anyone else care?) Anyway, highlight here is the usual meticulous design, the ridiculous stop-motion sequence, some crackerjack dialogue (muted because now every character has the same blunted affect and without subtitles I sorta glazed over in parts) and these movies remain quite funny.

8- Barbie (***1/2) - Watched a lot of pablum this year, most of it with very naked corporate ambition. Barbie's central trick is to critique itself and the very cynical context in which it critiques itself and hopefully contain within it the entire discourse (good luck to you.) Wish I hadn't had to listen to people earnestly tell me how brilliant and resonant certain 'pause for applause' moments were, but the humour may well stand the test of time, and people were rightly hyped on Ryan Gosling's over-delivery on what once was seen as an unlikely bit of casting.

7- Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3 (***1/2) - Not too proud to admit I was, in 2023, still kind of excited to see this one (1) marvel movie. Crisp Rat aside, the Guardians deliver best on the comic-to-screen vibe and rarely seem embarrassed with their source, leading to the intense emotional journey of a CGI mutant raccoon bounty hunter reckoning with his maker, no winking involved. Rocket Raccoon is my fucking guy, anyway, no more of these, please and thanks.

6- Dungeons and Dragons, Honor Among Thieves (***1/2) - Yeah, okay, more popcorn flick pablum. Hasbro hoping to further capitalize on the pop culture rise of and monetize and micro-transaction-atize and thereby enshitiffy one of my dearest hobbies (I am diversifying away from D&D TM) looming large in the background here, given the whole OGL blowback it was briefly reasonable large portions of diehards might boycott this thing. Anyway, saw it, liked it, succeeded wildly in the goal of effectively conveying what it's actually like to play a fantasy ttrpg, all the weird in-jokes, wild variations in tone, hand-waving and quirks of 'the rules' there for snorts of recognition. Cannot imagine this was much fun for non-players, but maybe.

5- Across the Spider-Verse (****) - Extremely hyped, but hopefully not the zenith of the trilogy, a lot is riding on part 3, which is thankfully due, uhhh, sometime next year? Dragged out its ending laying more groundwork, but before then, another ceiling breaking exercise in contemporary animation, an almost non-stop kinetic kaleidoscope of visual creativity that augurs well for animation's continued evolution.

4- Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in Mutant Mayhem (****) - Speaking of. Now, I've loved the Turtles since I was 4 years old, so my personal belief has always been, even though I love the 1990 rubber-suited cash grab, that the central premise is something that in the right hands can actually be objectively good, as opposed to personally delightful to me. This is that movie, the good Ninja Turtles movie. 'Teenage' -- to the point of being endearingly, obnoxiously immature, 'Mutant' -- to the point that the world around them is just as grody and fucked up looking as they are, 'Ninja' -- with sly handheld camera angles and satisfyingly fluid motion to rival Spiderverse, and uh, 'Turtles' -- they sure fucking are. I loved this. Jackie Chan forever.More, please.

3- Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person (****) - Exceedingly Quebecois take on the contemporary hipster vampire movie, Can-con for my list. Canadian Indies in 2023 are strikingly similar to American Indies from 2008, if that at all recommends. Ranks high for efficient self-contained everything, very charming, funny, just bizarre enough.

2- The Boy and the Heron (****1/2) - Easy to feel like this is a Ghibli greatest hits compilation, easier to remember that's what we all kinda want-- cute and unsettling creatures, delicious looking food, spirit worlds, quiet moments of reflection, arcane rules for how any and everything works... yet also maybe the truest return to the titanic achievements of Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away (especially.) Story forms a suitably esoteric thesis about grief and creation and, ultimately, endings. I think Miyazaki might actually be done this time.

1- Godzilla Minus One (*****) - An entirely different movie than Shin Godzilla, very possibly even better. It's tense (Godzilla hasn't felt creepy like this for a while.) It's emotional (rivals Godzilla vs Biollante in its human story.) It's very naked in its message (ah, the guilt.) The action is superb. I do not know where Godzilla goes from here. (Mothra!)

(Haven’t seen: Poor Things, Bottoms, Napoleon, the Killer, a bunch of other crap.)

[stenka-razin]

I finally watched Star Wars 9 (aka Star Wars 8) and Star Wars 11 (aka Star Wars 9) along with a rewatch of Star Wars 7 (aka Star Wars 7). They're all bad!

The Force Awakens - I feel like this got by because people assumed it would resolve and pay off and you know, be a movie. It didn't and unfortunately the failures of 8 and 9 directly affect 7 because it leaned so heavy on future installments. It basically balled out on a credit card and episode 9 was the bill. But despite that I do think it's the closest to telling a coherent story in its own right. It's a story called Star Wars 1977 aka A New Hope, but whatever. It's also weird in that it like, double dips. It mocks this series adherence to the past while whole heartedly leaning into that earnestly. At it's best it's like Canonized Spaceballs, at it's worst it's reheated leftovers. But yeah, as soon as they drop that cryptic vision and "a story for another time" crap I know this was gonna blow. It's the guy who made fucking LOST. When will people learn!?

The Last Jedi - Guys this is dumb. Dumb as hell. Dumber than most Star Wars. Even the good ideas it flirts with are rudimentary. But they also botch half the story. Like the entire plot about the escape from whatever could have been solved with a single five minute conversation, and there's really no consequences. Like Holdo looks like an idiot for not briefing her crew... Poe Finn n' Rose look like idiots for botching a mutiny and getting thousands killed. It's so dumb.

Luke kills kids now... guess it's genetic. Like I think there's a small seed of a good idea in here. That Luke, once an anomaly amongst the Jedi, who saw good in a man everyone else thought was irredeemable, is now stodgy and conservative, a natural process that often comes when people are in power for a long time. That's a good idea. But for the first story with the character in years (I don't give a fuck about some stupid book) and we immediately jump to, "I tried to kill a kid cuz his rancid vibes" is bad! Bad writing!

Rise of the Skywalker - Everyone basically went in know this was gonna suck right? Like it had to wrap up a bunch of crap that no one had any plans for. Then it also had to deal with the fact that the Last Jedi kind of dismantled all that crap for a bunch of other crap know one had any ideas for. Like I know JJ and Kennedy are portrayed as villains for cutting down Johnson's vision, but I call bullshit on him having any ideas for a third movie either.

And in spite of that, it introduces a bunch of other stupid crap, too. Yeah this is Episode 2 levels of bad. I totally checked out. I had no idea what anyone was trying to do beyond shoot people. Babu Frik and D-0 were delightful though. Give those two a movie. Oh and it seems like each of these leans heavily on one old guy to breath life into the movie. Anthony Daniels, you may have been the best part of this?

Oh yeah the cast, like in general. They're mostly good, but also like. They don't properly hang out together until Rise of Skyguy and I just find it so odd that the filmmakers decide, oh yeah, they all hate each other? Like even Finn/Poe who were all like Buddy-this Buddy-that, now they're total dicks to each other. I also love that they one up Jedi butchering a love triangle, by introducing like six* potential couplings and all of them fizzling out. Like that's bad but it's even more confusing that they introduce more to fumble in the final installment.

Anyway, in summation. It sucked, and anything good about the first entry was a time bomb destined to suck because no one knew what the hell they wanted to do with any of this. Except make money. They knew that and did. Star Wars sucksssss

[1332knitweardesignhouse]

18July2024

Heya! How are y'all doing today? I am well, thanks. Hope you are, too. In fact, I am earnestly hoping that your day/afternoon/nite has been an absolute delight and just continues to do so. However, if your day has been just plain awful, know that it gets better and that I am sending you a hug....(((HUG)))

There is a lot of stuff going on in the shop today! I managed to get to the halfway point on the Chomper yesterday! It is working up beautifully. I hope I don't have the same problem with shrinking that I seem to be having with the Petrie. I did re-math the cast on for that set, and I got the Cera set up to go next. I am hoping to get her going next week.

In other news, I have a podcast to put out today and I am looking forward to having that done and up by the time Big gets home. Wish me luck, Imma need it. Also, I played A.C. too long yesterday so my ankle swelled up to the size of a softball, relegating me to my chair with my foot up. So, it looks like docs and knitting away today. Lol.

Anyway, Hope you have an EXCELLENT day!

Much Love!

Huge Hugs!

Happy Knitting!

Ana

[ancient-romes]

TUCKER RIGHT BACK AT YOU. BTW. and also sis/kaikaina my beloved

You can tell tucker drives me absolutely insane

tucker is literally the blueprint for my taste in fictional men.

he starts out with so much repression and toxic masculinity trying to emulate this idea of what he thinks a man is supposed to be, like how he's planned out in his head how to be a distant father. He flaunts himself about hoping it'll give him the recognition he wants but he so earnestly wants connection it cant help but bleed through, Church calls Jimmy a good kid and Tucker can't help but ask if he's a good kid too. I love how smart he is, how he figured out that the teams were fake, that the time travel wasnt real, how he outsmarted wyoming, felix and locus. But I think what made Tucker stand out the most to me was his relationship with Junior. There is NOTHING that will come close to the softness i feel thinking about how easily Tucker accepted Junior?? how he loved him, defended him, showed him off. Tucker cares so much it hurts. Not just for his son but for his team. Like he spent all of s11-12 yearning for wash and church??? can someone tell him they're proud of him he needs to hear it

my bingo looks empty but Kai is a fucking DELIGHT, I really loved how easily she blended in with the main cast. I adore Tex and Sheila but theu were the only 2 women at the time and were basically babysitters for the men (blue team) Kai showing up changed the entire fucking game because suddenly we had a woman that was as silly and stupid and ridiculous as the rest of them. I love how she made people stop and think about what the fuck actually just came out of her mouth. I love how much she overshares (the point of annoying doc) and how much energy she has. She always gave off the vibe of being smarter than she pretended to be (like pretending to bury sarge) and even tho i dont necessarily like the seasons past 13 i like that they included kai and expanded more on her character and that shes a fucking business woman hell yeah??? while i dont love every female character being tied to a man in someway i do like the fact that Kai came all the way to blood gulch just to see Grif, its very sweet and it also makes me laugh when she tells him "dont do me any favors bitch" literally an hour after reuniting. I spend a lot of time thinking what their childhood were like, how they only had each other. I have a hc that Grif named Kai bc their mom couldn't be bothered to and his little 5 year old mind couldn't conjur up any other name than the one meaning "sister". also everytime a woman is unabashedly slutty an angel gains a wing

[saintobio]

sincerely yours | side story

episode. 02

cast. reader x gojou satoru x gojou sachiro

notes. this is a christmas AU of what their christmas mornings “could’ve been”. it’s a special episode that doesn’t really exist within the canon sn/sy-verse, so let’s just sob together :’(

“Mama!” You were just fixing the décor to your family’s Christmas tree when a little boy with arctic hair descended the stairs in his red pajamas, running off to you with a boyish grin on his delicate face. “Merry Christmas! Can Sachi open presents now?”

You crouched down to meet the toddler’s height and enveloped his small frame into the warmth of your arms. “Merry Christmas, baby. Can you give mommy a kiss first?”

It felt as though your heart would burst at the sight of your little boy’s excitement, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on your cheek with stars in his eyes that equally met yours in delight. “There, mama. More kissies?”

“Aww,” you cooed, “How can I say no to more kisses from my baby? C’mere.” Again and again did you attack him with kisses—whether it be on his nose, on his cheek, on his forehead, and on his chin. His giggles could melt your heart like hot chocolate on this cold morning, keeping you warm and cozy as you embraced your one and only child. “Okay, Sachi can open presents with mommy now.”

But before the both of you could ever reach for the gifts under the snow white Christmas tree, a six-foot tall man with a Santa hat and a fake white beard appeared from the bottom of the staircase. “Without daddy? Ho, ho, ho!”

“Dada!” Sachiro jumped as soon as his father walked closer while you were left chuckling behind, watching how comical Satoru looked in his Santa Claus disguise. “Dada, can I have my gift, please?”

Satoru stroked his artificial beard and held the Christmas sock in front of the toddler. “Have you been a good boy this year?”

Wide, crystal blue eyes stared up at his bearded father earnestly. “Yes. Sachiro’s a good boy, daddy.”

“I know you are, my munchkin.” It was impossible not to smile at how the father-and-son bonded in front of you—with Satoru lifting Sachiro in his arms, and the little boy swaying his feet midair. Such eagerness rose even more by the time your husband put him down and handed the big, red sock that carried the very toys that your son had been wanting to have.

As for you, there was only one thing you had on your wishlist and it was to spend this special day with the people you loved the most.

“I thought you’d sleep a little longer after last night,” you said, getting up to peck Satoru’s lips. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“I love you.” Along with his response, he nuzzled his nose against yours and made your heart flutter with his affectionate gesture. “Merry Christmas, babe. And also,” as he moved his lips to your ear, his warm breath sent shivers to your spine,

“You’re on my naughty list.”

[corydora-writes]

Earnestly Yours

Din plans something special for Y/N.

"I pledge myself to your happiness, my starlight," Din said vehemently and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Pairing: Din Djarin x plus size F!Reader. You are in an established relationship.

Warnings: mentions of body insecurities

A/N: This is the first fanfiction I've written in over 8 years. What I visualize doesn't write well on paper, sadly. So, this is my first attempt back, and I welcome constructive criticism and good feedback, too.:)

You continue walking on the path Cara had sent you to in the secluded forest. You didn't realize how time flew by until you noticed the sun had gone an increment down though it still peered over the horizon. Your boot stepped on the crunchy foliage that you found oddly soothing. It helped to distract you with the short 10-minute walk. You made it at the end of the path, and you admired the beautiful field of wildflowers surrounding the area, a picturesque view to behold. But Din was nowhere to be seen. You walked further into the field and turned to look at every angle.

"You look beautiful, my starlight."

You heard a familiar modulated voice behind you. A wide smile formed on your face, and you turned around to look at him. He was standing five feet away from you. You and Din made your way to each other until you were only a few inches away from each other, your gazes fixed on each other. He extended his gloved hand to your cheek and caressed it.

"I missed you," you say softly.

"I missed you, cyar'ika."

He extends his arm out for you to grab, and you put your arm around it and get closer to him.

"I think Cara gave me the wrong directions. I don't see a seller around here."

"It's 20 minutes away from here, but I just wanted to meet you here first. I didn't want you walking alone." He admits.

It heartened you to know there was someone who would stand by and make sure you were safe, guarded against anyone who would hurt you. You hold his arm tighter.

You both make your way to the unknown destination, and you admire the scenery and Din's presence.

He asks about your day, and you tell him about the trip to the cantina and the market and how adorable Grogu looked with his floral crown. You also say to him about the nice older man who gave you the bouquet.

"Hmm," Din manages to utter, and you sense a hint of jealousy.

"This man," begins.

"-is old," you say and laugh. "How was your bounty hunt?"

He loosens his arm from you and takes a moment to respond, and you wonder if you were to blame for his new demeanor. You frown at the thought and let your arm fall to your side.

At last, he responds. "We went after a group of thieves who owed a cantina owner in the upper east money."

"Sounds like an easy hunt for the Mandalorian and Cara," you say.

"It was," he responds coldly.

The conversation ceased for a couple of minutes.

"We're almost there," he says.

You can hear what sounds like a stream. You decide to listen to that to distract from the awkwardness of the situation.

"I'm sorry if I intruded too much," you utter, unable to hold it in.

Din halts and looks at you.

"What do you mean?" He looks at you with open curiosity.

"I asked you about your bounty hunt, and you didn't seem to like that much." You were unable to meet his visored gaze.

"Y/N..." he grabs your hands to his chest. "I am a di'kut. You rightfully misunderstood my silence. I--can you trust me for five more minutes?"

You nodded but now were completely confused at the situation.

He let go of your hands and continued walking, but he quickly grabbed your hand and intertwined his gloved fingers with yours. You felt the familiar warmth emanating from his gloves.

The stream was louder, and you glanced at the flickering glitters of the water.

"What a peculiar place for someone to sell spare parts," you said what you were thinking out loud.

Din laughed.

"We're here."

You turned to look at your surroundings. You saw a quilt laid on the ground in front of the river with flowers spread around it. It was magical, but you were still confused.

"But Din, the Razor Crest-"

"Is fine. It doesn't need any maintenance."

You arched your eyebrow at him.

"Hope you don't mind a short getaway," he said, and you can hear a smile form from his tone.

"You planned this?"

He nodded. "Your question back there about the bounty hunt caught me off guard. I hadn't prepared a lie."

He caressed your cheek affectionately. "I hate lying to you or omitting anything from you. You did nothing wrong," he reassured you.

You grabbed his hand that caressed your cheek and kissed it.

"You did all this for us?"

He nodded. "We haven't had time to spend alone... so with the help of Cara and a few villagers this morning, we were able to set this up."

You look at him with an enamored gaze and wrap your arms around him.

"This morning was long and arduous, cyar'ika. Each second was painful in your absence."

His words that escaped from the low timbre of his modulated voice renewed your vigor.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a gentle kiss on his helmet where his lips would be, more or less.

He sighed in relief and let out a soft laugh, and he pulled you closer to him, his hands pressed gently on your waist. His touch, his words, and his actions made you feel beautiful and desired. Your insecurities and the voice in your head that tried to convince you that you couldn't be loved for not being a smaller size decimated at your feet. It was just you and the man you loved.

"I can hold you in my embrace for eternity," he began, "but I want to show you around."

You let him go and laughed and made your way down to the dome across the river. He opened the door for you, and you entered to see the room filled with hundreds of exotic flowers and plenty of petals on the floor that led to a path that followed to the... bed.

A flush of color bloomed on your cheekbones, and you couldn't meet his visored gaze. The hair on the back of your neck prickled, and your face burned under the weight of his regard that was so intent that he might as well have been touching you. You never shared an intimate moment such as this, and you wondered if today would be your first.

He put his hand to rest on your waist and pulled you closer to his side.

"I hope you like it,"

You let out a small squeal of delight. "Din, I love this. Everything is perfect. I love you."

Din ran the tip of his finger lightly over your bare hand. There was so much affection and regard in that simple gesture, and you will never tire of it.

With a broad smile, you and Din hastily made space on the quilt laid on the floor outside. You both sat next to each other and relished the scenery, just enjoying the sound of the streaming water that happily hit the rocks.

"I want you to see me," he broke the silence. His words were uttered slowly as if he pondered the import of each word.

You glanced at him, completely mystified by his meaning.

He raised his hands to grasp the rim of his helmet, and you immediately stopped him before he could remove it.

"Please, don't," you pleaded with him. "I promise you on all the stars above that I can go my life without seeing you, Din. Don't break your Creed for me."

He immediately turned your palm up, and both his hands gripped yours tightly.

"Would you love me more if you saw me?" His tone dejected. "I'm afraid you'll decide to leave me one day or that you'll tire of being with someone you can't see."

You felt the warmth of his grasp, and you felt slight trembling. He was nervous.

"I'm absolutely all in, Din," you said with a sincerity that was heartily felt. "I love you, and nothing, not even your Creed, will make me love you any less. Hell, you loved me when I thought it impossible. You loved my every perceived insecurity. You loved me when everyone else dismissed me. I love you, and I love you, I love you. I can spend all night here telling you every reason why I love you if that would make you believe me. I don't need to see you." You looked at Din, your gaze filled with adoration, and you smiled so sweetly at him.

He closed your hand into a fist and put them gently on your side. Then he continued to lift his helmet until you saw him. You sat there, your eyelashes fluttering in utter surprise. Your breath rasped, and your heart pounded.

His alluring brown eyes met yours for the first time.

"Y/ N," he said finally. Your name sounded like a caress when he uttered it.

But you sat there still silent as a stone, yet your gaze was still fixed on the handsome man sitting in front of you. You were mesmerized at the man you loved who stared back at you without the barrier of his helmet.

"Mesh'la," you whisper and smile at him. He lets out a shy laugh, and you go on to reach his face, but you feel something slip from your grasp.

You can still feel Din looking at you as you look frantically under your surroundings to see what had slipped. Maybe you were a nervous wreck and losing your mind, but then from the corner of your eye, you see a glint next to the basket—a ring.

You pick it up and look at it, now realizing that Din had put it inside your hand when he gripped them.

"Din..." you don't know what to say.

"You gave me something I never knew I wanted," he observed you. "Our aliit gave me purpose and stability."

With his exposed index finger, he traced your lips. He finally leans forward to you and presses his lips against yours.

After some time, Din breaks away and looks at you. Your face is flushed and hot. Your surroundings suddenly felt impossibly intimate, and you could not draw a full breath.

"What does this mean for you?" You manage to ask. "As Mandalorian, I mean."

"I spoke to the Tribe. They like you, Y/N, and they approve of us. They reassured me that being with you does not make me a dar'manda." His thumb slid across the inside of your wrist in a gentle caress. "The Armorer forged this ring with a part of my beskar for you," he said as if attempting once more to cast any doubts you might have. "I want you to be my riduur, my wife. I want to bind my soul to yours."

You are overwhelmed by your emotions, and tears begin to collect.

"I want to build a marriage like the one my parents once had... and I will always protect you and Grogu with my life."

You let your tears that had been collecting stream down your cheeks.

"If someday you decide that you want a bigger aliit, then..." he didn't finish, and you had the impression that he was blushing, but you understood what he meant.

"Yes," you say. "I'm yours."

The simple statement stole the breath from his lungs, and he looked at you with an enamored gaze. He put the ring on your finger, and then he pulled you in closer to his embrace.

Your heart leapt when you titled back your head and offered your tempting lips to him. His mouth was soft. Din brushed his lips against yours as though he would memorize their outline. His thumb moving across your chin in a caress that threatened to melt your very bones. His other free hand stroked your back, the same masculine hands that had protected you so many times during bounty hunts, the same hands that were so loving with his every touch. Your enthusiasm fed his own passion as nothing else could.

You had certainly never loved a man with such vigor that your heart ached so at the very sight of him.

When at last his mouth lifted, setting you free, you let your forehead drop to his shoulder, and you listened to the undisciplined force of his breathing.

"I pledge myself to your happiness, my starlight," Din said vehemently and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

You held his hand and smiled benevolently. You vowed to encourage him, love him, welcome him home always. Your riduur, whom you swore to buoy when his spirit faltered, was earnestly yours.

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

Previous | Next​

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Old Haunt Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

References are made to the birthday R&S, so please read that first!

[ PROLOGUE ] 

MC: Is this the place?

Gavin: According to the map, it should be.

Gavin and I have stopped outside an old house, carrying a cake.

The reason we’re here today has to do with the phone call Gavin received a few days ago...

~ Memory begins ~

Gavin: You are?

Ever since receiving the call from a foreign number, Gavin has been frowning slightly, as though recalling something.

After hanging up, he looks deep in thought. 

MC: Gavin, has something happened? 

Looking at his expression, I can’t help but ask.

Gavin: It’s nothing. It was a call from my grandmother’s neighbour. They are about to pave the pathway, so they informed me that they’d have to use the yard.

MC: Your grandmother’s house? You’ve never mentioned it before.

Gavin: My grandmother lived on the outskirts of the city, and has a house with a courtyard. I used to go there occasionally during vacations. After my grandmother passed away, I’ve haven’t gone back. 

MC: I'm sorry, I didn’t know...

Gavin: It’s okay. Although her condition wasn’t great, she had a serene passing. She had quite a long life. I don't have a deep impression of the old house. Only after getting the call did I remember the large patch of dandelions there. It looks very beautiful in Summer.

Hearing his words, my heart stirs.

Over the past few days, I’ve been anxious about where to celebrate Gavin’s birthday, and haven’t been satisfied with all sorts of places. 

Perhaps the old house isn’t a bad choice.

MC: Since we have this chance, want to go back and have a look? I’m even thinking of celebrating your birthday there. How does that sound?

After thinking for a while, Gavin nods.

Gavin: Also good. Let’s go back and have a look.

~ Memory ends ~

Therefore, on Gavin’s birthday, we returned to this old house that Gavin can’t remember much of.

The house no one has lived in for a long time stands quietly. The yard has not been tended, and only wild weeds and dandelions grow.

Near the windows, the wind chime, with its tubes missing, is also silent. 

It seems to have been waiting for an opportunity to tell of the past that has been forgotten with time.

~

[ ACTUAL DATE ] 

The noon sun spreads across the green leaves of the dandelions, and a few clouds occasionally drift across the blue sky. 

The old house in front of me seems to sleep quietly in amber. Since a particular day, it has become unchanged. 

Only wild grass in the yard grows, hinting that over a decade has gone by.

MC: Do you still remember the last time you were here? 

Gavin shakes his head, pushing the iron gate open.

Gavin: The dandelions look almost the same as I remember though. Come to think of it, my grandmother used to directly pluck dandelion leaves from the yard to include in her dishes. 

MC: Were they delicious?

Gavin: They were really bitter. I didn’t particularly like them. However, my grandmother always said that good medicine tastes bitter, so she gave me even more. 

I laugh while looking at Gavin’s tiny pout. 

I can’t help but wonder if the Gavin of back then was just as he is now, eating vegetables he doesn’t really fancy.

Suddenly, I realise something important. It’s something that I haven’t confirmed even till now.

MC: Gavin, did you bring the keys to this place? 

He shakes his head and calmly admits it.

Gavin: I don’t have the keys to this house. 

MC: Are you...

Seeing me cast worried glances at the door, which does not look as sturdy as it once used to be, he taps on my forehead lightly.

Gavin: What are you thinking? Here. 

Holding onto my wrist, Gavin brings me to the side of the old house. 

He shifts some vases to the side, then squats down and knocks on the wall, as though searching for something. 

After a while, the corners of his lips lift, and he laughs lightly. 

Gavin: Looks like I didn’t remember wrongly. It’s here. 

As he speaks, he pulls out a loose brick and retrieves a slightly rusty key from the hole in the wall. 

MC: A spare key? 

Gavin: Mm. Back then, my grandfather would go fishing and forget to bring his keys. He simply left a set here. When I was young, I would sneak out with my grandfather without my grandmother knowing. We’d rely on this key to get back in.

With a flick of his thumb, the key gets tossed into the air. After circling a few rounds, it falls back into his hand. 

Gavin: Let’s go. 

~

The door creaks as it opens, like an off-key welcome. 

I follow behind Gavin, slowly entering this house, which has not been disturbed by anyone for far too long.

The dim light and the air, which is several degrees lower than outside the house, causes me to draw nearer to Gavin. 

Only after my eyes gradually acclimatise to the light in the room do I have a proper look at this old house, which is covered in dust. 

The house is empty, apart from a sofa and a coffee table which are covered with a thick layer of dust, and a few cabinets which are inconvenient to move. 

I’m guessing the other items have been moved away a long time ago. 

People used to place fresh flowers and tea cups here, and spend a leisurely late afternoon with family. 

On the low cabinet next to the stairs, there would have been pictures, telling visitors about the warmth in this household. 

It’s a pity that after many years of remaining idle, this place has become completely desolate.

Even the traces of small furniture and decorative items have been buried in dust. 

Gavin: I’m back.

Gavin says this in a soft voice. I’m unsure if he is saying it to the old house, or to himself. 

Gavin stretches out his hand to brush the wall of the corridor lightly, then silently twists away the dust on his fingertips. 

Gavin: It doesn’t seem very appropriate to celebrate a birthday here. Want to go somewhere else?

Gavin lowers his eyes, his tone normal, as though he’s talking about something trivial. 

MC: Mm... we really can’t do it in such a place.

Making a decision, I stride towards the windows. With a single movement, I draw the heavy curtains and push the window open. 

Sunlight rushes into the house, and a cool breeze carries in the scent of grass. The dust and quiet in the house are stirred up by the flow of air. 

MC: Which is why we’re going to do a thorough house cleaning!

I say this loudly, flashing a grin at Gavin. 

He probably didn’t expect that I’d do such a thing. After freezing for a moment, he lets out a light huff. 

Gavin: All right. 

~

Even though I said that we’d be cleaning, I have absolutely no idea where to begin when I look at the dust-covered house. 

MC: Mm... should we do it from top to bottom, or from inside to outside...

Gavin: No need for such trouble. 

MC: Do you know some secret to cleaning up? 

Gavin doesn’t speak. The corners of his lips are tugged upwards into a smile, and he pulls me to his side. 

A gust of wind blows through the house, going through every corner, rounding up the dust and bringing them outside the house. 

From where we are standing, we aren’t disturbed by the dust at all.

MC: This... this is playing foul!

Looking at the house, which has become much cleaner in just an instant, leaves me feeling shocked and delighted. 

MC: So there’s actually this method!

Gavin: In the past, my mom would use this method of cleaning when she felt lazy. Seems like the result isn’t bad.

Gavin’s smile widens, and his eyes have a faint sense of longing within them. 

Gavin: MC, I’ll mop the floor, and you wipe the tables?

MC: Mm! With this division of labour, work wouldn’t be tiring~

The sounds of the slightly rusty faucet turning, followed by the rush of water, signal that our house cleaning project has officially begun. 

MC: Honestly speaking, I like cleaning up. 

I wipe the table earnestly, looking at how the old wooden table exudes a soft halo under the sunlight. 

MC: Sometimes when I’m not in a good mood, I’ll tidy up my room, and clean up. By doing so, my heart’s grievances are also cleaned up.

Gavin: Yes.

Gavin looks at the interior of the house, and agrees. 

Gavin: Many things require a proper cleaning up. 

The dirt is gradually removed, and the glass is polished. Gavin and I chat while sweeping. 

Sparks slowly return to this old house. 

Gavin: Hm? 

MC: Did you find something? 

Hearing a sound, I turn towards Gavin. 

There is an empty bookshelf taking up the space of a full wall. In the corner of the lowest shelf, there is an old tin box. 

MC: What is this...

Gavin: Open it and we’ll know.

Without hesitation, Gavin takes up the box and gently opens it. 

Several guesses flash across his mind. The moment the box is opened, he receives an answer. 

A bracelet made of small beads, an old but well-preserved doll, a transparent sweet wrapper...

A collection of items that girls would like. 

Did this box belong to Gavin’s grandmother? After thinking again, I find that the box doesn’t look that ancient.

While I’m still identifying the items in the box and speculating who its owner is, Gavin takes out a pair of small, incomplete knee pads.

MC: So cute... are those knee pads for little kids? Although it’s only half complete, a lot of heart was put into it. 

Gavin: Really? How can you tell? 

I take the knee pad from Gavin’s hand and turn it over carefully for him to see. 

MC: Look, the needlework is very delicate, and the edges are neat. If only my fingers were that nimble... it’s a pity that the embroidered small plane at the side is slightly out of shape. It’s probably the reason why it wasn't complete. 

Gavin: It is a little crooked. 

I return the knee pads to Gavin, and can’t help but voice my speculation. 

MC: Perhaps it was meant to be given to someone? I’m not sure if it was a success in the end...

Gavin: It was a success. It looked very good at the end, and was a very precious birthday present. The boy who received it liked it a lot. He even won several basketball matches while wearing those knee pads. 

MC: Gavin...

I suddenly realise something, and draw nearer to Gavin, looking at the pair of knee pads together with him.

MC: The boy who received this present is definitely very blessed. 

Gavin: Mm. 

Gavin nods, answering in a tender and soft voice. 

MC: Are we bringing it back with us later? 

He places the knee pads back into the box preciously.

Gavin: Since it has always been stored here, this is its most appropriate place. Let’s continue cleaning up.

~

I’m standing in the living room after cleaning the final area, and do a big stretch.

With our collaborative effort, the old house is finally thoroughly cleaned. 

The sense of melancholy earlier has been removed along with the dirt. Although the house still feels empty, one can see the warmth from its past. 

The wind chime has also been fixed, and it once again rings with crisp sounds.

MC: Once we wash the sheets and curtains, it’d be a complete success!

Unfortunately, when we press the power button, the washing machine produces a strange sound. It stops operating after a series of tremors. 

MC: Is it broken?

I look at the washing machine and give it a knock, refusing to give up.

Gavin: Possibly. This washing machine is a very old model, and it has always been idle, so it’s not strange that it’d malfunction. Let me try fixing it. 

I pull on Gavin’s arm before he leaves to get the toolbox, then point at the big basin at the side. 

MC: It’s not a bad idea to do things manually sometimes, right? 

Upon hearing this, Gavin turns his head to look at the warm weather outside the window. 

Gavin: It’s not bad. 

~

Clouds drift across the blue sky leisurely, and an occasional breeze causes the dandelions to fly along with it.

In the yard, Gavin and I hold each other to maintain our balance as we take turns to step on the sheets in the basin. 

As the cool water flows over our toes, the sheets gradually become clean, slowly returning to their former whiteness. 

Along with our repeated actions, foam bubbles fly everywhere, floating towards the grass. 

MC: It’s a pity that I didn’t bring any decorative items. If there were things like colourful ribbons and balloons to decorate this place, there would more of a birthday atmosphere. Right now, I keep thinking about how empty the house is.

While washing, I look at the old house before me and purse my lips, feeling regrettable towards the gaps in my plans. 

Gavin: It’s already very good now.

Gavin responds matter-of-factly, adding a little more washing powder into the basin.

Gavin: If we hang decorations, we would have to take them all down before leaving. There’s no need for such trouble.

His reaction is not unexpected. I smile and ask him.

MC: When it comes to my birthday, would you do up decorations?

Gavin: Of course.

He answers seriously, tightening his hold on my hand. 

Gavin: But you’re here right now, and even baked a cake yourself. To me, this is already the best birthday. Your plan is perfect. 

MC: [blushing] ...

Meeting his direct and candid eyes, I feel my cheeks flush. I lower my head and continue stepping on the sheets in the basin.

MC: Even if it’s not decorations, you could bring some small pieces of furniture to add a touch of home to the atmosphere if you come back again next time. It’s such a beautiful house, and we spent so much effort cleaning it. We can’t just neglect it again.

Gavin: All right. We can take a look at the furniture mall together anytime. I’m not good at choosing these things, so I’ll leave it to you.

MC: I might end up buying the things I like though...

Gavin: That’s not bad. 

MC: No no, this is still your house.

Saying this, I am suddenly curious. 

MC: Gavin, have you ever considered what your “ideal home” looks like? 

Gavin: The place I'm currently staying at is pretty good. 

MC: I’m not referring to that... it’s more...

I pause my actions, thinking of how to best illustrate it. 

MC: It’s a more emotional kind of “home”.

Gavin: In that case, I haven’t given it much thought... MC, come out for a while. I’ll change the water. 

As he speaks, he pulls me out of the basin. After pouring the dirty water into a bucket nearby, he takes the hose. 

His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and a few foam bubbles are on his sculpted forearms, scattering specks of colourful light. 

MC: Want to think about it now? 

I dip the sheets into the clean water. Under the warm sunlight, the old house seems to be cast in a layer of gold. 

MC: For example, there’s a soft cushion in the living room, and there’s a shelf for flowers in the balcony. 

Gavin: Mm, that sounds good. With a shelf for flowers, Pearly can live more comfortably too.

Gavin smiles at my serious expression, and considers the topic I brought up.

Gavin: As for other things... a telescope? 

MC: Being able to look at the stars at night sounds romantic. 

Gavin: Do I continue?

He raises his chin from the sheets and stretches his hand towards me. 

Gavin: Be careful not to slip.

MC: I have you, don’t I? 

I stand in the basin, exerting a bit of force, wanting to pull Gavin closer to me. 

The bottom of the basin is too slippery, and I lose my balance. 

Before I can steady myself, Gavin fishes for my waist, and I fall into his arms. 

Gavin: Be careful not to slip.

He repeats himself again, but his voice carries a smile this time. His low voice drifts to my ears. 

Because of the earlier movement, some water has ended up outside the basin, creating small puddles. It’s as though pieces of the sky are embedded into the ground. 

Gavin: The house must also have a good quality washing machine. 

Gavin leans down, helping me wipe water off my skirt. 

MC: Makes sense. 

Looking at his drenched shirt, I let out a laugh and second his remark.

When we start to coordinate with each other’s steps again, I start to imagine the house belonging to Gavin - the house he’s looking forward to. 

MC: What about the bookshelf? Would you have a huge bookshelf?

Gavin: Mm. That way, it’d be very convenient to work from home. 

MC: As expected of our dedicated Commander Gavin! What else? 

For some reason, I keep sensing his gaze trailing to the old house, and that he’s looking at something very afar off. 

Gavin: There’s a yard to put Sparky in. 

MC: The carport really needs to be built well. We can’t leave Sparky exposed to the wind and sun. 

Gavin: It’d be best to have a small basketball court...

Saying this, Gavin pauses, as though he just thought of something. 

Gavin: The house must also have a piano.

Gavin smiles and glances at me, the hidden meaning in his words self-evident. 

My face heats up, and I step on the sheets with force, creating more bubbles. 

MC: [blushing] Then, I want to grow ginkgo trees in the yard!

The bigger movements make me draw closer to Gavin in order maintain my balance. 

MC: There’ll be a swing, and also a dog which is as intelligent and cute as Flyer.

Gavin smiles as he reaches out to hold my upper arm.  

He looks into my eyes solemnly and opens his mouth slowly. 

Gavin: All right. Whatever we want, they will all be there. 

~

The sheets flutter under the sun, and we can finally rest for a while. 

Even though Gavin says that he doesn’t mind it, I still want to make this old house have more of a birthday atmosphere. 

I look at the big patch of dandelions, and am struck with an idea.

MC: There aren’t any colourful ribbons, but there are dandelions. I can form them into a “birthday crown”.

Thinking about the expression on Gavin’s face when he saw the flower garland, I am filled with motivation. 

Watching me head outside hurriedly, Gavin thinks of helping while looking confused. I stop him at the door. 

MC: You’re not allowed to peep. Have a good rest. This is an “order”.

Knowing that he can’t bend my stubbornness, he smiles and raises both hands in an “I surrender” posture.

Gavin: I promise to complete my mission.

Before I close the door, I suddenly see something stuck behind the cabinet at the entrance. 

MC: What’s this? 

Curious, I take a look and try to pick it up. Unfortunately, it remains stuck.

Gavin: Let me see.

I take a step back and Gavin shifts the cabinet slightly.

It’s a photo frame, and within it is a picture of a harmonious family of five. 

In the middle sits a couple who have experienced life. Life has brought steadiness and wisdom, but has not taken away their spirit. 

Behind them stands a couple, who look to be around twenty or thirty years old.

The man is muscular and handsome, and is unsmiling. 

The woman, on the other hand, is smiling. Her hair is draped over her shoulders. She is carrying a baby in her arms preciously, as though it is the entire world.

Somewhat familiar facial features enable me to quickly recognise who these people are. 

Gavin takes the photo frame from me wordlessly. The faint smile he always had has disappeared. 

MC: Gavin? 

Gavin remains silent for a while. Finally, he releases a sigh, using his thumb to brush the picture.

Gavin: You mentioned earlier that when you’re cleaning up, the grievances in your heart would be cleaned up as well. What should be cleaned up will have to be cleaned. 

His faint voice is the same as always, but is more solemn than usual.

Gavin: MC, there are some things I want to tell you. Are you willing to listen? 

MC: Mm. No matter what it is, I’m willing. I want to understand everything about you.

Gavin seems to be thinking about where to start. After a moment of silence, he purses his lips and begins. 

Gavin: My father is an outstanding soldier. I won’t deny that point, but it doesn’t mean that I agree with what he does. 

Gavin: As for my mother... she was very tender, and stronger than anyone else.

I look at Gavin’s side profile. Not much expression is on his face, but when he mentions this, there is warmth in his eyes.

Leaving his father when choosing between righteousness and family, a mother who was always tender, childhood struggles, a postponed birthday...

And the fire that severely burned him.

He spoke simply, carrying me across decades of the past in the span of a few minutes. Yet, my heart feels a wave of sorrow.

Gavin: These are just things that happened in the past. They’re over now. 

Gavin says this at the end, and places the photo frame on the table carelessly.

Gavin: Let’s check on the sheets outside. The weather has been hot recently, so they should dry quickly. 

I pull on Gavin before he stands up, and look at him seriously.

MC: No matter how heavy the topic is, you always say it so lightly. It’s as though you’ve never been affected by it. But... Gavin, whether it’s the scars from the past or right now, I hope to help you bandage them. 

I try to tidy my messy thoughts and grasp the words I truly want to say to him.

MC: Just like how we cleaned up this old house together, we will place new decorations and furniture together next time. We can turn this place into a house you can rest in.

Gavin lets out a sigh and rubs my head gently. 

Gavin: Only when I say a proper farewell will it count as leaving it behind, right?

I nod my head vigorously and give him a smile. 

MC: Want to tidy this up properly? 

Gavin: Mm.

Gavin finally returns a relieved smile. He brings me into his arms gently, and presses his forehead to mine. 

Gavin: Give me some time. 

MC: Mm. 

I close my eyes, wrapping my arms around his neck.

No matter how heavy the past is, he will take it all away. He will move forward without confusion, and will no longer be bogged down.

As for those burdens that follow the wind, I can share them with him.

The wind chime on the windowsill produces a crisp sound. The low tone sounds like a farewell, and also the announcement of a new journey.

~

I stand on my tiptoes to retrieve Gavin’s dry shirt from the rack.

Along with my movements, the occasional dandelion blows past, floating and spreading in the air. 

After Gavin ended that long embrace, we hung the photo frame on the wall together, and I felt at ease.

This place shall be the start of our journey to the future. 

At this moment, the most important thing is to keep the clean clothes, and then hold a complete birthday celebration with him. 

MC: Should I make up for this another time when there’s more of a birthday atmosphere?

I retrieve Gavin’s dry shirt from the rack. The faint scent of sunlight lingers on it, as well as the washing powder. 

MC: Come to think of it, I wonder if Gavin would find this year’s cake a little too sweet...

Gavin: What about me? 

Before I can turn around, I am tightly encased in a familiar scent and warmth. 

MC: Gavin!

Gavin: I’ve tried a bit of the cake. The flavour is just right. 

MC: Why did you steal a bite?

 Gavin: It was just one bite, so it doesn’t count as stealing.

I pretend to be angry and turn my head to the side, wanting to say a few more things. My face meets Gavin’s cheek.

From this angle, his long eyelashes are clearly visible, and his amber eyes are even more clear and flawless. 

The slightly humid air circulates around us. In the span of a breath, all my senses are overtaken by him.

A wind blows past, carrying dandelions far away.

MC: Gavin, happy birthday.

With a curl of his lips, Gavin smiles. He holds me by the waist and lifts me up, spinning me around in a circle.

MC: Ah?!

Slightly startled, I laugh while pounding his shoulder lightly. 

He spins me around again, then changes his position to hold me in his arms. 

Gavin: We can keep the sheets later. Let’s have cake first. 

MC: It’s still in the afternoon though. We should keep the cake for tonight, after you’ve made a wish.

Gavin: It’s my birthday, so I have the final say.

Gavin doesn’t care about my small retort, nor does he care about the fluttering sheets. Still carrying me, we enter the house. 

The braided corollas hang at the end of the clothes pole, the golden flower petals stretching warmly under the sunlight. 

A gust of wind sweeps past, closing the door of the old house. 

On the windowsill, the tubes of the wind chime are also swept by the wind, hitting the glass, producing a crisp and long sound.

Clanging under the bright blue sky. 

🎐

Gavin’s Birthday Collection:

ASMR: Regaining the Old Days (takes place during the date)

Moments and Texts

Phone call

Video call

[yaimlight]

Part 3 - No

Rating: older teen (swearing and mild sex references)

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x female reader / Todoroki Shoto x female reader / Bakugou Katsuki x female reader x Todoroki Shoto

A/N: part of the Twos Company series but can be read on own. Rest of series can be found on AO3 here.

Part 1

Part 2

———————————————————————

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” you exclaimed loudly as you flung the door open, arms thrown wide and beaming. Shinso looked up from his book, his tired eyes narrowed and a bored look on his face. He rolled his eyes, huffing at you and then turned his attention back to what he was reading. Laughing you closed the door behind you, kicking your shoes off before making your way over to the bed.

He didn’t even look up at you as you climbed onto his bed, eyes fixed on the book in his hands. “Shinso,” you said teasingly, slowly crawling up towards him. His eyes briefly darted up to you before going back to his book. Smirking you crawled over him, settling over his lap and plucked the book from his hands. Huffing he finally looked up at you, folding his arms over his chest. “I was reading that,” he said flatly but you could see his lips curling up into a small smile.

“Well that’s just boring” you said dismissively, not even looking at the book as you closed it and dropped it onto the floor. His small smile fell back into a frown and you knew he was about to have a scold you so you got there first, shuffling back onto his thighs. “I have something much better,” you shoved your hand into your jacket pocket, letting out a triumphant cry as you pulled the lollipop out. You held the heart shaped sweet out to him, ‘be mine’ printed on the front of the glossy red lolly. He looked at it in utter disgust, arms remaining folded and refusing to move. “It’s a thank you, for getting rid of all those letters for me before Katsuki and Shoto got to class this morning,” you stated, wiggling the lolly at him in an attempt to get him to take it.

He had been a reluctant coconspirator this morning, getting rid of all the confession letters and cheap nasty chocolates before your class had arrived, leaving your boxes behind instead. He had bitched and moaned about the whole thing, trying to get you to do it yourself but you had wanted to spend the morning with the two other boys. Plus you had wanted to see the looks on their faces when they realised they didn’t have all the gaudy crap cluttering their desks like they normally would. You hadn’t been counting on there being more idiots trying to confess throughout the day and there had been a slight wobble, well more a cataclysm at how you had handled that situation but thankfully it was all smoothed out, all parties happy again.

You sat on his thighs, spinning the lolly between your fingers and smiling brightly, waiting for him to take it and finally he gave in. Huffing he snatched the sweet off you, unwrapping it quickly and shoving it into his mouth. Beaming you darted forward, placing a quick kiss on his bulging cheek before rolling off of him and flopping down onto the bed. He huffed at you, sucking noisily on the lollipop as you made yourself comfortable on you back, arms folded behind your head. “Honestly Shinso, thank you,” you spoke earnestly, tilting your head so you could look up at him.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled around the sweet though he still managed to sound just as grumpy. Smiling you let your eyes close, letting the gentle quiet and calm wash over you. Today had been annoyingly exhausting and you were happy for the reprieve, letting everything fade apart from the gentle hum of Shinso’s quirk. It was familiar and calming and didn’t inspire the same sort of hunger as Shoto and Katsuki’s did.

“I can’t believe how much shit those two idiots got though,” Shinso grumbled around the lollipop. Suddenly alert you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, eyes snapping open as you turned to look up at him in excitement and hope. “Did you keep them?” He frowned down at you, lips pursed but you just grinned back at him, barely keeping your excitement contained. Sighting he pulled the lolly from his lips and used it to gesture toward his desk. “Over there,” he sighed but you were moving before he had even finished talking. He let out a pained groan as you clambered over him, your knee digging into his stomach and nails catching on his chest but you didn’t stop to apologise.

How you had missed the stack of vibrant envelopes was beyond you but now that you had it in your sights you couldn’t see anything else. You practically flung yourself into his desk chair, snatching a hot pink envelope off the top. You were vaguely aware of Shinso grumbling as he pushed himself round to sit on the edge of the bed but he was not your priority right now. You quickly ripped the envelope open, glancing at the front only long enough to see Shoto’s name before you cast it aside and fumbled open the letter. The sickly sweet smell of roses filled the air, the cheap perfume filling your senses.

Ever since Ashido had brought up how bad last year’s Valentine’s Day had been you had been obsessing over these, desperate to see if they really were as bad as the others had lead you to believe. As your eyes darted across the page you were not disappointed. “Oh my god” you gasped, your voice shaking as you tried not to laugh. Clearing your throat, you sat up a little straighter and proceeded to read the poem out in a clear and melodic voice. “I think I was searching for treasures or stones in the clearest of pools when your face…when your face, like the moon in a well where I might wish…might well wish for the iced fire of your kiss; only on water my lips, where your face…where your face was reflected, lovely, not really there when I turned to look behind at the emptying air…the emptying air*”.

Letting the last word trailed off you finally looked up at Shinso, raising an eyebrow at him as you smirked. His face was scrunched up in a look of disgust. “Was that for Todoroki?” he asked, the judgment clear in his tone. Scoffing you held you hand over his small bin and set the thing up in flames, letting the ashes fall into the bin. “What gave it away?” you said sarcastically. It was well written and you got the sense that whoever had sent it wanted to convey a sense of longing but you also thought that the only reason they had picked it was because it mentioned both fire and ice. “Well at least it made some sort of sense,” Shinso mumbled before sticking the lolly back in his mouth and leaned back on his hands, legs splayed wide.

Snorting you went back to the pile, taking the next one off the top. This one was a soft pink, Katsuki’s name across the front. The letter you pulled out was heart shaped, the same shade of pink as the envelope and the writing in a glittering silver. It looked like something Katsuki would hate, blowing it up before he even looked at it and complaining the whole time. You were expecting it to be just as cringe as the last one but as your eyes flicked over one line to the next you found yourself smiling.

“What?” Shinso mumbled but you didn’t answer him, just looking up at him with a grin and holding out the letter towards him. Huffing he reluctantly pushed up off the bed and trudged over to you, hand held out for the letter. He slumped against the desk and snatched it from your hand. “Whose it for?” he mumbled around the lolly. “Katsuki,” you couldn’t keep the amusement out of you voice, eagerly waiting for his reaction and to your delight he actually read it out loud, his tired and deep voice muffled around the lolly still in his mouth. “Roses are red, and they are thorny. How ‘bout some head, cause you make me horny”.

The look of absolute horror on Shinso’s face had you laughing, your sides aching from it. “That’s disgusting,” he grumbled, going to throw it in the bin but you quickly moved forward, snatching it out of his hands. “No it’s amazing. Do you think they want to suck Katsuki’s dick or want him to suck theirs?” You asked as you reread through the short but amusing poem. “Oh god I do not need that image,” Shinso looked sick, one arm wrapped around his stomach and the other rubbing at his temples as he glared at you, as if this was all your fault. Well you suppose in a way it was but regardless of if he had taken the Valentine’s cards or not he still would have heard about them. Especially this one.

Shrugging you folded the letter back up, put it back in its envelope and tucking it into your jacket pocket. “Why are you keeping that?” he hissed in disbelief, looking down at you like you had gone crazy and in all honesty he wasn’t far off. “I’m going to tape it to Katsuki’s door,” you grinned up at him, eyes alight with mischief. Katsuki was bound to be flustered and angry and if anyone other than Shoto found it first he would have to spend all day with his friends teasing him. He would be angry, frustrated and defensive. It would be a perfect opportunity for you to be crude and teasing just to see that perfectly delectable blush on his cheeks. You could already feel how much amusement you were going to get out of it. “I thought you were supposed to like him”. You ignored his snarky comment, instead grabbing another letter and shoving it at him. He huffed as he took it off you but he still opened it.

The two of you spent the next twenty minutes reading through the letters, you taking great pleasure in setting them alight. Some of them were truly awful, not even rhyming and sickly sweet. You and Shinso would share the occasional one that you knew would make the other laugh or feel sick. Most of them were harmless, just girls and a surprising amount of guys gushing generic words of love but there were the odd few that were just a little worrying. One of them went into great detail about Katsuki’s chest and how his muscles glistened with sweat whilst another described how pretty Shoto looked whilst training. You didn’t like it one bit and you made a mental note to pay more attention to the people who hung around the two up and coming heroes whilst they were training.

“Listen to this” Shinso called, snapping your attention back to him and away from your plots of how to get rid of the other boy’s stalkers. At some point he had gone back to his bed, lounging across it with a stack of letters next to him, read ones discarded on the floor. He was sat up now though, a small smirk on his lips and instantly you were suspicious of what would have him looking so happy. He cleared his throat, his voice low and clear and his smile getting bigger with every word he spoke. “I watch from afar, your burning light calling to me like a flame calls a moth to its demise, but you do not see me for your heart beats for another. You can’t see how she hurts you so, her cruel intentions hidden behind her charming smile. You follow her blindly even though she so openly flaunts another’s affection before you. If you were mine I would cherish you like the shinning diamond you are. My devotion to you would know no bounds, my love a constant amongst the chaos but you do not see me, my love cast in shadows as she breaks your heart once more. So I watch from afar, craving your light as you follow blindly, the girl who would see you fall”.

The room feel into silence.

Shinso was grinning madly now and all you could do was stare at him dumbly with your mouth hanging open, the letter you had been holding falling to the floor forgotten. “The actual fuck,” you mumbled in disbelief. “Seems someone thinks you’re a bit of a bitch,” he teased, clearly amused at your dumbfounded expression. “I mean they’re not wrong”. Narrowing your eyes you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping back into the chair. “That’s rich coming from you,” you grumbled. Where the hell did these people get off? Making assumptions like that, treating you like trash to make themselves seem better. Suddenly all the humour you had found in reading the love confessions was gone, leaving a bitter and sour taste in your mouth and all you wanted was to set the whole lot on fire.

Shinso laughed at you once more, his smirk easing into a teasing smile and he chucked the letter onto the pile of discarded letters on his floor. “You can’t really blame people for thinking your stringing them both along though. Considering how you are with them,” he said offhandedly but his words made something twist in your chest. Was that really what it seemed like? Did people think you were leading them on for what, fun? Because you could? Did Katsuki and Shoto feel the same way?

It wasn’t your intention to make it seem like that, it’s just that you liked them both and it had all just kind of happened. It had never occurred to you before now that what you were doing could be considered cruel and the thought left you feeling sick, guilt twisting in your gut and making you second guess everything you had done today. Shoto knew it was you that had sent the chocolates but would he think they were just another meaningless flirtation? “I’m not stringing them along,” you mumbled, frowning sadly down at your socked feet. Your purposely mismatched socks that Momo had gifted you for Christmas, one to look like Katsuki’s hero costume and the other to look like Shoto’s. You had thought your feeling had been obvious, your genuine affection for the two would be heroes clear for everyone to see but apparently not.

Shinso sighed, the bed creaking as he shifted. The atmosphere had changed, the light and teasing air of things becoming serious and honestly a little bleak. And you had been having such a good day. “You know all this could be avoided if you just asked one of them out”. Your eyes went wide, head snapping up at Shinso’s exasperated words. He was frowning at you, tired eyes filled with a mix of emotions that you didn’t really care for. “No,” you growled out angrily, narrowing your own eyes as you glared at him. “Why?” he snapped, arms crossed over his chest.

This wasn’t the first time the two of you had had this conversation. Not even the first time this week. Things would be so much easier if you were the one to do the asking, to put aside the flirting and teasing and take the initiative. You could just pull one of them aside and say ‘go on a date with me’ and they would say yes. Hell you could probably get away with just telling them you were dating now but there was one important thing you would have to do before that and that was an impossible thing to do. Because for you to ask one of them out you would have to choose witch one you wanted to go out with the most and you couldn’t do that because you simply didn’t want one of them more than the other one.

It had been bad enough having to suffer through that broken look on Katsuki’s face when you had had to turn down spending New Years with him. You didn’t think you could stomach how he would look if you chose Shoto over him. Nor the look on Shoto’s face if you bushed him aside for the angry blonde. It wasn’t lost on you how lucky you were that the normally distant and oblivious teens had taken an interest in you, Ashido having told you that most people had given up trying to date them as they were so oblivious or against it. So you knew that for them to act the way do with you was nothing more than a small miracle but it also left you spoiled. You had spent so long without people touching you that now you had two people who seemed to crave it as much as you did it left you desperate, so enamoured with both of them that you couldn’t bring yourself to choose between the two.

Oh god this was hopeless.

Deciding to try and deflect Shinso’s questions you sighed dramatically, looking down your nose at him and levelling him with an unimpressed look. “That’s not how these things work Shinso. The guy asks the girl out not the other way round,” you said condescendingly, waving your hand between the two of you as you spoke. He arched an eyebrow at you, arms still crossed over his chest and making his arm muscles seem even bigger as they strained against the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

He really was good looking and not for the first time you thought about how much easier things would have been if you had fallen for him instead of Katsuki and Shoto. He knew everything there was to know about you and accepted it, despite all the horrors you had been wrapped up in over the years. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that if one of them actually grows a pair of balls and asks you out then you don’t have to make the decision of witch one to hurt”. You physically flinched at his words, his knowing and chiding tone making you feel guilty for trying to hide the truth.

Perhaps he knew you to well at this point, able to call you out on all your bullshit. Sighing you slumped back into the chair, arm flung over the back rest and legs dangling over the arm. “Exactly” you mumbled as you tipped your head back, flinging your other arm over your eyes in a childish attempt to block everything else out.

There had to be an easier way to do this that didn’t involve you having to choose between the two of them. You were running out of time. Finals were literally days away and you barely had a month before everyone graduated and you were shipped off to the next safe house. You scoffed at that. Safe house was putting it lightly. Where you were going was a newly built high security underground prison designed to be completely impenetrable and for the worst of the worst. This thing hidden so far out in the wilds of Alaska that no matter how hard people looked they would never find you.

You had a handful of weeks before your time ran out and you lost your chance forever.

Shinso huffed, the muffled sounds of him moving around and muttering to himself bringing a small smile to your lips. You would miss this when you were gone and it was a shame that you hadn’t gotten to spend as much time with him as you had hoped to, what with Katsuki practically frothing at the mouth every time he was so much as brought up in conversation let alone you brought him with you when you spent time with the blonde. You got that he was jealous but you couldn’t really see the problem he had with Shinso. Sure he could be rude and loved nothing more than to get under Katsuki’s skin but couldn’t he see that you were just friends?

Like a lightbulb going off you found your answer and you jolted up, startling Shinso with you sudden action. You smiled widely at him, eyes alight as you leaned forward. “What?” he asked hesitantly, eyeing you suspiciously. “Katsuki absolutely hates you and Shoto can only just about stand you,” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. His hesitance vanished, eyes narrowing and lips twisted into a frown. “Is this going somewhere?”

You pushed up and out of the chair, almost tripping over your own feet in your deprecation to get to him. You threw yourself at him, his tired eyes widening in panic as his arms shot out to grab hold of you. The two of you went tumbling back, Shinso ending up sprawled across his bed and you practically laying on top of him. You pushed yourself up onto your hands and knees, hovering over him and still grinning a little manically. “If they thought that you and I were going on a date it might encourage them to actually do something”.

You shifted your weight onto one hand, quickly tapping him on the end of the nose. It was a brilliant idea and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t thought of it before. It was probably wrong to deceive them like that but desperate times call for desperate measures and you were truly desperate at this point.

“No. Absolutely not,” he snapped, hands gripping at you tightly as he shoved you off of him and onto the bed before he stood, shoving a hand through his already messy hair and going to walk away from you. Groaning you sat up, hands darting out to grab at his arm and keeping him in place. “Shinso please. I haven’t got long left before I get shipped off to fucking Alaska. Please for me?” you begged him, eyes wide and pleading even though he wasn’t looking at you. It was a low blow, reminding him of your impending return to prison but you knew he wanted you to have memories to take back with you and though he was against it he would give in to you. Just like every time before.

Groaning he lifted a hand to his face, rubbing it over his eyes. The room fell into silence as you waited for his answer. You could feel the hum of his quick under your hand, almost pulsing like another heartbeat. It was slow and steady and strong, tempting and familiar though not in the way Katsuki’s and Shoto’s were. Your hunger for their power would probably never leave you but after having them at your disposal almost every day since you had arrived it had become less all consuming. Shinso’s was still some sort of comfort though and you would miss his gentle purple glow and the open ease in which he let you touch him.

“Fine but you owe me” he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing as his hand fell and he turned to look at you with a sad almost smile. “Anything,” you promised and you were not surprised to realise you meant it. Shinso could ask you to move mountains and topple empires and you would, just so he knew how much you appreciate him and everything he had done for you in the last year.

Huffing out in laughter Shinso returned to the bed, slipping his arm from your as he went. He sat back against the headboard, arm slung over it and looking at you expectantly. Smiling softly you crawled up the bed, slotting against his side and wrapping an arm around his middle. His own arm draped across your shoulders, pulling you closer and you went willingly, soaking in as much of the physical contact you could get before you went god knows how long without it.

You fell into silence again, Shinso absentmindedly playing with your hair. At some point he had retrieved his book from the floor, holding it in one hand and using his fingers to awkwardly flip the pages. It was nice, relaxing even and you were content to stay there for a while. “So is there a plan for this or you just want me to go taunt your little guard dogs into action,” Shinso’s casual tone threw you, having thought you were done talking for now.

Tipping your head back you were surprised to find him already looking down at you. Nervously your eyes darted off to the side and to the now rather small stack of envelopes on his desk. As much as the idea of Shinso just storming up to you whilst you were with the other two teens seemed funny it was also a sure fire way for him to end up with a broken nose and either frost bite or third degree burns. Plus you didn’t want him to actually ask you out, you just wanted the hint of it. Wanted Katsuki and Shoto jealous and panicked enough to act quickly and without giving it to much thought.

Sighing you turned back to him, patting him gently on the chest and giving him your best look of fond exasperation. “I think we can be a little more subtle then that”. He huffed out a little laugh, lips curling up into a rare soft smile. Not as rare as either Katsuki’s or Shoto’s but still infrequent enough that you would cherish it for years to come. “No pink unicorns and picnics on the moon then,” he teased, his words startling your own huff of laughter out of you. “Unfortunately no,” you smiled, turning your gaze away from him and looking down at the book that now lay open and forgotten on his lap. Your eyes darted across the page, taking in the small snippet of story and you recognise it for what it is, a bloody and gruesome tale designed to leave the reader not only horrified and scared but haunted by the possibilities of what lurked in the dark.

If it was nightmares he was after you could give him that, no fiction needed just the story of how you had come to be here at U.A. It wouldn’t be much of a tale, no happy ending to speak of. Just a small glimmer of hope before bleak despair took over. Max would scream until he was red in face if you told Shinso everything, he was already angry enough when he found out how much the perpetually tired teen knew but there had been no point lying after he had forced the first truth from your lips and the subsequent beat down he had received afterwards.

Sighing you glanced at the clock that sat on his bedside table, the neon red numbers glowing brightly. “I should go,” you mumbled, reluctantly pushing away from Shinso’s warmth and shuffling off the bed. You had been due in Evans’ office almost an hour ago now and he would only give you so much time before he went looking for you. Normally you wouldn’t care but you had told Shoto where you were going and he and Katsuki would be the first people Evans went to, not even bothering to turn your tracker on and just assuming you would be with them like always.

Shinso didn’t say anything but you could feel his eyes on you as you headed towards the door, shoving your shoes back on with a pout. He seemed to sense the shift in your mood, something that was getting more frequent the closer the end of the school year got and thankfully he allowed you the time to gather your wits before heading off to the mandatory meeting with Evans’. Things had been rather tense between you and the detective since Christmas and you were not looking forward to another hour or so of the awkward and stilted small talk that would proceed him telling you what you really wanted to know.

Your father hand been spotted in South Korea not even a week ago, rather brazenly actually, even smiling at the security camera before leaving the bank he had just robbed. He wanted you to know he was coming for you, was dragging it out as probably some kind of punishment, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind just so you could see as he got closer and closer. It was worrying everyone, even the teachers were tense and on edge. Plans had been brought forward in reaction to his ever tightening grasp, your departure for Alaska now set to happen whilst the graduation ceremony took place instead of afterwards like it had been planned originally.

You, the detective and a select few heroes would slip out amongst the commotion and fan fair, using the whole thing as a diversion. It would be a shame you wouldn’t get to say goodbye, wouldn’t get to see your friends happy faces as they transition from heroes in training to actual licensed and fully qualified heroes but it was probably for the best. If you actually had to say goodbye to Katsuki and Shoto you didn’t think you would make it, braking down before the words even made it past your lips.

Shinso opened the door for you, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and watching you intently as if he was looking for some sign that you were about to break and he would have to catch the pieces. Turning you offered him a smile, trying to make it as wide and playful as you could muster. “Lunch tomorrow?” you wiggled an eyebrow at him, tongue pocking out from between your lips. He huffed in amusement rolling his eyes at you but he was smiling softly again so you counted it as a win.

His smile turned into something wicked and you groaned at his next words, “sure you can help me cram for finals”. That was the last thing on your mind right now. Even if you did have to take the stupid tests, they didn’t change anything for you and at this point it all seemed like a gigantic waist of everyone’s time but not for Shinso, so if he wanted help you would give it to him but you wouldn’t be happy about it. “Fine but I will do it reluctantly with a lot of complaining and a fair amount of inappropriate comments” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a pointed look. “So no different to normal then”.

You stuck your tongue out at him, his laughter low and rumbling. The whole exchanged had lifted your spirits slightly and with a mumbled “night” you blew him a kiss and headed on your way, the gentle click of his door closing sounding before you had even made it to the end of the corridor.

The common room was full as you made your way through, people turning and calling out greetings as you passed and you made sure to smile back brightly, wishing them all good night as you went. Class B had gotten used to you coming and going months ago and they hardly payed you any attention now when you came breezing in like you lived there. You were lucky Vlad King didn’t kick you out on your ass every time he caught you despite how often he told you off for disappearing into Shinso’s room for hours at a time. The only reason you could think you got away with it was because they all knew that you and Shinso weren’t doing anything other than studying or sleeping. Well not sleeping in Shinso’s case.

The night was cool as you stepped outside, the sun already on its way to setting. Sighing you contemplated just saying fuck it and head back to the dorms and barge your way in to whatever Katsuki or Shoto were up to but Evans would just come looking and ruin all your fun. As if on queue your phone dinged loudly, signalling at text and you quickly retrieved it, already knowing who it was from and sure enough the detectives name was showing in a little text bubble. You huffed at his words, the threat of having only five minutes to show yourself before he went looking for you a real one that you had ignored many times before and had ended up almost being dragged to his office. You sent him a quick text, telling him you were coming before shoving the phone back into your pocket.

You shot your dorm a longing look as you hurried past, eyes darting up to where you knew Shoto’s room to be and finding the light on. You wondered if he had told Katsuki yet that you had been the one to gift them the chocolates or if he had kept that little bit of information to himself? Either way it didn’t really matter, you didn’t think it would make either of them suddenly want to ask you out. You could only hope that whatever you and Shinso ended up doing worked.

You had never been on a date before and rather liked the idea of your first one being with either Katsuki or Shoto. It would be a good memory to take with you when you left. You could only hope that it would end up being a good memory for them as well.

*Echo by Carol Ann Duffy

[timeforelfnonsense]

Between Heaven & Hell

Astarion x Dafni

Rating: M (no spice but its mentioned) 

Ao3

Inaleth Sweet is a D&D oc belonging to one of my dear friends @ladyofthelatke from one of our old games. We were talking about Dafni liking romance novels and realized she'd be a fan of Inaleth. A fun little easter egg! The name of Dafni's book was also brainstormed by our D&D party! I don't know that I love the ending but meh!

Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series 

Downtime for Dafni had become rare and fleeting in the past few days. Not that she mined being busy! She’d never been much good at sitting still. Her mind moved from thought to thought as quick as a hummingbird’s wing. A life of adventure rather agreed with her breezy disposition, that was a silver lining among the mess at least. But she found herself road-weary and overextended. Perhaps it was the tadpole or the fact she’d been in more battles in two days than she had in the last year. She couldn’t be sure. Either way, a little idle time would be good for her.

She was lounging on her belly in a grassy patch on the river bank, idly flipping through the dog-eared pages of a novel bound in soft pink leather, Between Heaven and Hell scrawled across the cover in faded gold lettering. It was a rather risqué account of an amours elf torn between the affection of her aasimar and a tiefling suiters. The first in a series penned by one Inaleth Sweet of Waterdeep -  A fellow eladrin and personal favorite author of Dafni’s. She’d read it dozens of times but it never failed to enchant and intrigue her. 

She’d always enjoyed reading. It was the only time she could bring herself to be (mostly) still. She could lose herself in the colorful whimsy of her imagination. She’d always been a romantic. Her headful of silly daydreams of love and adventure from a tender age. She had spent days on end in her village imagining what the world might be like beyond the shelter of Peleira and the familiar forests and shores of Faerie-Gwynneth. Books provided her wanderlust an outlet in the years before she crossed into the Material.

A pale hand snatched the book from her hands pulling her back to reality. Astarion glanced down at her with a mischievous grin, raising a singular angled brow. She clumsily fumbled to her knees attempting to reclaim it from him but Astarion simply raised the novel out of her reach. 

He looked almost ethereal, shrouded in the soft, peachy glow of sunset as he flipped through his stolen prize. His loose undershirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel showing off his lanky feline-esque physique. It was completely unfair for him to be that gorgeous! Somehow he managed to mix boyish charm with noble dignity. She imagined Astarion was very much the kind of man humans pictured when they talked about the peerless beauty and grace of the elves. 

“My, my, Daffodil, I never pegged you as a consumer of salacious novels. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” He said through a chuckle as he began to thumb through the pages, “You fold the corners of your books? And I thought I was despicable!” 

He might have been from the Material Plane but he had that spark of mirth common to those hailing from her homeland. It was a welcome change of pace. She’d found he could be quite charming (when he wasn’t being surly or aloof). He’d taken to treating her with teasing endearment as of late.  He would refer to her by little diminutives such as darling or dear. That was when he wasn’t calling her by that twee pet name, Daffodil. She knew that the majority of his doting was little more than suave twaddle but she couldn’t help but be won over by him.

 There were things about himself he’d clearly chosen not to disclose. She was never one for secrets but she could hardly begrudge others for having them. Astarion’s omissions were likely connected to whatever had made him so prickly in the first place. She was curious of course but she wasn’t going to press him for anything he was unwilling to give.  Dafni understood relationships much the same way she did gardens. Both required patience and dedication in order for something beautiful to flourish. She earnestly hoped a genuine friendship could blossom between them but that meant allowing him to open up to her in his own time no matter how badly she wanted to bombard him with a-million-and-one questions. 

 “What have I done to deserve this roguery?” 

“Roguery?” Astarion snickered.

“Roguery.” She repeated. “Now find your own way to pass the time and give me mine back!”

Her brows stitched, her lower lip forming that perfect little pout of hers. She was trying very hard to appear cross but her eyes gave her away. They were sparkling with impish delight as she made another valiant effort at retrieving the silly thing. Despite her tilt towards clemency, Dafni was a bit of a puck. 

“This is my way of passing the time. I can only wander among the trees so many times before the novelty wears off. Besides, making you blush is far more entertaining.” 

Dafni snorted a blite smile forming at the corners of her plump lips, “You are incorrigible, you know that right?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Well, I suppose if you are that bord I could read to you?” She yanked the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest smug and victorious. Reaching out with her free hand to tap a finger on the tip of his nose. “But, I’m skipping all the dirty bits!” 

“Spoilsport.” 

“It’s that or walking around the woods for the hundredth time.” 

“You do raise an excellent point.” He sighed carefully arranging himself on the grass beside her, “Very well, I’ll agree to your stipulations.” 

“Just be glad I’m not going to make you read for one of the characters! And because I’m just so sweet I’ll even start from the beginning for you.” 

He listened intently as Dafni delivered the tale as if she were performing a one-woman play. Her face was adorably expressive as she changed her voice with each new character. Messy curls bouncing with every animated gesture. Occasionally she’d trail off feigning horror at the ‘dirty bits’ as she called them.

 What would lewd words have sounded like in her lilt voice? Part of him wanted to find out right then. That wasn’t the first time such musings had crossed his mind. Dafni had made a few appearances in his private thoughts since their meeting. She had a coy, maidenly allure that conjured up all kinds of tempting images. These were nothing more than flights of fancy but fun nonetheless. Just another benefit of keeping her around.

He found himself lingering around her almost on instinct. The joy that followed her was tangible and warm as the sun on his skin. When she was near his mind felt quieted and the fear that gnawed at him would soften just a tad. He had grown to genuinely enjoy her company. He’d expected her to be dull and overly pious. Instead, he found she was rather amusing, coquettish even. She was witty and observant, always having a playful quip at the ready. The sort of whimsical woman whose effortless charm drew people in. She would have made an excellent vampire if not for her ridiculous soft heart.

Her compulsive need to care for every living thing  with a sob story was somewhat vexing but he could hold his nose and deal with it most days. He’d make a comment here and there but really that was for her own good. She was painfully naïve, always seeing the best in people. It was clear to him Dafni’s life had been gentle. Free of hardships that might have taught her to approach others with such little skepticism. 

A part of him was grateful for her lack of suspension.  He knew gaining the trust of at least one of the members of the party would be crucial if he intended to enjoy the benefits of traveling with a group long term. Her friendship and propensity for peace making provided him with no small measure of safety. Still, that safety was at risk if she continued to offer herself up on a silver platter to every soul with even the smallest tale of woe she came across.

He glanced over at her, a found (begrudging, but found nonetheless), smile on his lips. The last rays of the setting sun casting its light on her lovely cherubic profile. While his motivations for befriending her had been far from altruistic having her near made his life provable better. When they’d first met he’d assumed her kindness would come at a price but she had surprised him, wanting nothing but his company in exchange. Without thinking he reached out cupping her cheek in his hand. The freckles, sage skin was unbearably soft  and warm against his cool palm. Her heartbeat quickened bringing his attention to the tantalizing, wildflower sent of her blood.  She leaned in close her eyes fluttering closed- 

“We should head back to the others, it’s getting dark.” Astarion muttered, pulling back from her.

“I- Ha, of course. It’s late…” Her lower lip was caught in her teeth, her eyes darting ever so quickly from his mouth back to his eyes. 

As tempting as she might be he was already in too deep with her. If he kissed her, he’d only want more. Any change to the current dynamic could disrupt the fragile safety he’d acquired. He couldn’t put himself at risk for the temporary happiness she might have brought. Perhaps when things were more settled. When he knew he could afford the risk, he would know the taste of her lips. For now though, he would have to resist.