#and that even that i am happy right now and have everything i ever wanted does it really is the right choice

[trixy812]

Can I request an instance where jjk men have been busy lately and y/n sees jjk men out with another woman (she doesn't know the woman is a relative or coworker) and y/n shoots at them and just barely misses. 😂😂😂 preferably Toji, Sukuna and Shiu? I feel like those men would be the only ones that would be secretly turned on by their girl shooting at them

╰┈➤ JJK Men haven’t spent time with you and suddenly you see them with another woman.

୨ৎContent: suggestive, jealousy, toxic behavior, Female!Reader,

୨ৎAn: omgomgomg, this is my first request EVER and it’s from my twiniii <3! I am very happy about this and I really hope you like it and I just hope this is the beginning for a long a cool internet friendship <3 <3 btw, the end of Gojo's was inspired from a parks&recs blooper (Gojo has Andy Dwyer energy). I have to say that writing Toji and Sukuna was really hard, i hope I did justice to all of them.

୨ৎIncl: Toji, Sukuna, Gojo, Nanami

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚

It’s been almost two weeks without a hug or a kiss from your boyfriend. Although you’ve kept in touch daily through texts and calls, intrusive thoughts won’t stop tying a knot in your stomach. While walking down empty streets, you finally decide to focus on what your student Mai is telling you, hoping to clear your mind. But it’s impossible. Your anxious mind keeps conjuring up clichéd scenes: "What if he’s cheating on me?"

As if fate wanted to mock you, a few meters ahead, you see your boyfriend escorting an attractive woman to a taxi. You freeze in place, and Mai asks if everything’s alright. You watch the taxi drive away, while the knot in your stomach ignites, ready to make you explode. Without a second thought, you grab Mai's gun, not giving her a chance to react, and shoot at your dear — and potentially unfaithful — boyfriend. You miss.

ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!

Toji

Toji is surprised, but he’s having the time of his life. He doesn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. He stares at you, raising an eyebrow with a mocking smile.

“Seriously? Jealous of my coworker?” he asks, trying to embarrass you.

"Coworker, my ass!" you yell, your face completely flushed.

Toji laughs, and although he’d never admit it, he feels flattered by your jealousy. He slowly steps closer to you.

“If you wanted to practice your aim, at least do it right” he says, spinning you around to embrace you from behind. With a provocative smile, he guides your hand to press the gun against his temple “I think this is the only way you’d ever hit your target.”

His taunting only fuels your anger.

“Relax, you have no competition” he whispers playfully in your ear, tightening his hold on you, pressing you against him. You can immediately feel his boner, which shocks you enough to drop the gun. He laughs wholeheartedly and let go of you as if nothing had happened.

Sukuna

Though he’s irritated, Sukuna is thoroughly entertained. He gives you that intense look you know well, one that shows he doesn’t like being challenged.

“Did you try to hurt me? How adorable” he says, his tone dry and dangerous “Are you insane?”

“You bastard! You’re the one who drives me insane with your stupid antics. Now, who the hell is she?” you scream as loud as your lungs allow.

Sukuna lets out a mocking, sarcastic laugh, enjoying the scene. Deep down, he feels flattered by your intensity, though he’d never admit it. He steps closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Jealous? Really? I don’t have time for this nonsense” he says, pulling back with a sinister smile. Turning his back on you, he dares you to react again. He glances over his shoulder, throwing you a challenging look “Maybe you do have reasons to be jealous, who knows?”

Each word only makes your blood boil more. You approach him with clenched fists.

“Maybe you should be more worried. Maybe she really was someone special” he says, provoking you even further.

You can’t take it anymore and throw a punch at him, which he catches easily. With his other hand, he entangles his fingers in your hair, tugging gently but firmly, tilting your face toward his.

“Calm down, darling. No one else compares to you” he whispers, with that blend of mockery and defiance.

Gojo

Although he saw the shot coming (I mean with the six eyes… duh), the sound of the gunfire still startles Gojo.

“Wow, that was a refreshing scare!” he says with a grin, treating it as a joke.

“I’m only going to ask you once: who is she?” your voice comes out louder than expected.

Gojo is thrilled, loving the spectacle of seeing you angry and jealous. Using his cursed energy, he makes the bullet float in front of you, mocking you.

“Babe, the bullet didn’t even come close enough to activate my Infinity” he jokes, trying to lighten the moment “Good thing hand-to-hand combat is your strength because your aim is terrible”

You shoot him a death glare, and that hits its mark. Gojo smiles, approaching playfully. He deactivates his technique and wraps you in a hug to calm you down.

“Come on, you know I only have eyes for you” he assures, hoping to see you smile before letting go.

Although you do smile, the irritation lingers. Taking advantage of his deactivated technique, you slap him.

“Do it again” he says, totally captivated, and you oblige with another slap. He writhes in sinuous movements, as if his entire body is struggling to escape an invisible hold.

“Do you have a… boner?” you ask, noticing his reaction.

He doesn’t respond, but it’s obvious. You smile, incredulous.

"Duuuuuuuuuuuude!" you shout, turning around and walking away

"No one has slapped me before" he stands there, beaming stupidly.

Nanami

Nanami sighs, adjusts his glasses, and looks at you with disapproval.

"You shot at me? Seriously?" he says calmly.

Without losing his composure, he steps closer as a few tears roll down your cheeks.

"If you have something to say, I’d rather you say it than shoot at me" he says, surprised but trying to understand.

"I haven’t seen you in two weeks! And when I finally do, it’s by chance…" you shout, not caring if anyone hears. "And with another woman! What the hell, Kento?"

"I don’t think a scene is necessary. That woman is my cousin" he replies, not trying to invalidate your feelings, only to clarify. "You know I’d never do anything to make you doubt me."

He steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. You’ve missed him so much that you throw yourself into his arms as if you’ll never let go. In that embrace, Nanami realizes just how much his absence has affected you.

"I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. I’m sorry for not being there" he hugs you back, kissing the top of your head and gently running his fingers through your hair "You’re important to me, and if you want more time together, that’s exactly what we’ll have."

≽^- ˕ -^≼

Mai sighs in exasperation, watching the scene while retrieving her gun.

"And I’m supposed to look up to this person?"

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (the eclipse of the alliance)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: lion's pride

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The gentle afternoon light spills through the windows of your chambers, casting a light over the rich silks and delicate fabrics laid out before you. Rhaenyra sits beside you, her eyes alight with excitement as she picks up a length of golden lace, holding it against the fabric of your gown and studying it with a critical but admiring gaze.

“This,” she says decisively, her tone one of certainty. “It’s perfect. The color, the delicacy—it suits you.”

You smile, taking the lace from her hands and feeling its softness beneath your fingertips. “You’re right. It’s beautiful,” you murmur, your voice tinged with a hint of disbelief as you look around at the array of details before you—the lace, the intricate embroidery, the small jewels meant to adorn your gown, each piece carefully chosen for your upcoming wedding. “I can hardly believe this is happening. Sometimes it feels like a dream, one I thought I’d never be lucky enough to have.”

Rhaenyra watches you thoughtfully, a knowing smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Then let it be real, sister. Let this wedding, this happiness, be yours.”

You look up at her, your expression softening. “I always thought… that my match would be nothing more than a duty. That I’d be married off to some lord for an alliance, as so many noble ladies are. Matches made for gain rather than happiness. I’d resigned myself to that fate.”

Rhaenyra nods, understanding in her gaze as she places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I know. So many of us are given no choice at all.” She pauses, her eyes darkening slightly with memories of her own struggles, her own sacrifices for duty. “I fought my battles to make sure I could find my own happiness. I know what it’s like to feel… bound by the expectations of others.”

You give her a small, grateful smile, reaching out to take her hand. “And now, here I am, free to choose and to marry a man who… who sees me for who I am, not just as a princess.” Your voice softens, and you feel a rush of warmth as you think of Tyland, of the unexpected comfort and understanding you’ve found with him. “I never thought I’d find that.”

Rhaenyra squeezes your hand, her smile turning tender. “Tyland is a good man. And he adores you—I see it every time he looks at you. You deserve someone who values you, who would go to any length to protect you and cherish you.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “It still amazes me, really. I see other noble ladies here, young women with dreams and spirits of their own, resigned to marriages that bring them neither love nor happiness. I feel as if I’ve somehow defied the odds.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Then let us call it luck, sister, or perhaps fate. You are marrying a Lannister, after all. They say those lions have a way of claiming what they want—and it seems you’ve claimed each other.”

You chuckle, feeling your spirits lift as she leans in, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. “Though I must admit, I can hardly imagine you at Casterly Rock,” she adds with a teasing smile. “All those stony halls and golden lions—it will be quite the contrast to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head, laughing. “I doubt I’ll ever be quite at home there, even with all the lions watching over us. But Tyland will be here, with me, at King’s Landing, at least for now. And I think… I think that’s all I need to feel at home.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression softening as she hands you a delicate ribbon embroidered with faint threads of gold. “Then let’s make this wedding everything you deserve,” she says, her tone gentle yet determined. “Let it be a celebration of you, of the choice you’ve made, and of the happiness you’ve claimed.”

You take the ribbon from her, the weight of the fabric a comforting presence in your hands as you meet her gaze, a sense of joy and gratitude welling up within you. “Thank you, Rhaenyra. For standing by me, for helping me make this choice, for… everything.”

Rhaenyra smiles, her eyes glistening slightly as she leans in to embrace you. “Always, sister. You’re not just a princess—you’re family, my family. And I would see you happy, above all else.”

The two of you pull back, a shared sense of joy lingering in the air as you continue to select the final touches for the wedding. And as you hold each fabric, each delicate detail chosen with care, you feel the quiet certainty of the life you are building—one that, against all odds, has brought you both love and freedom.

The small council chamber is filled with activity as King Viserys and his advisors discuss the arrangements for the upcoming wedding. Viserys sits at the head of the table, his expression one of contentment, a faint smile pulling at his lips as he listens to the details being laid out before him. Around the table, each member of the council appears engaged, but none more so than Tyland, who sits at Viserys’s left, the faintest trace of pride lighting his gaze as he listens to the preparations.

“The invitations have been sent to the noble Houses, Your Grace,” Lord Beesbury begins, shuffling a stack of parchment before him. “Most have already responded with their intent to attend. The Great Sept has agreed to host the ceremony, and arrangements for the feast are underway.”

Viserys nods approvingly, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good. It should be a celebration worthy of both Houses.” He glances briefly at Tyland. “This union is more than a simple wedding; it’s a symbol of our alliance, of peace between our Houses.”

Lord Jasper Wylde nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “And with such esteemed guests, it will serve as a reminder of the Crown’s strength. House Lannister and House Targaryen together—there are few in Westeros who would challenge that.”

Tyland inclines his head in gratitude. “Thank you, my lord. It is our intent that this union strengthens the realm as much as it does our families.”

At that, Lord Lyonel Strong, ever the voice of reason, speaks up, his tone thoughtful. “It will be a fine day for the realm, Your Grace. The symbolism alone holds power, and it shows your commitment to unity and prosperity.”

Viserys nods, clearly pleased. But as the conversation begins to wind down, Otto Hightower clears his throat, leaning forward with a slight frown, his eyes fixed on the King.

“Your Grace,” he begins, his voice calm but carrying a hint of unease, “while I, of course, understand the significance of this match, there is something I feel compelled to address.” He pauses, his gaze shifting briefly to Tyland before returning to Viserys. “It has not gone unnoticed that many lords from the Westerlands have taken it upon themselves to establish a steady presence here at court. Their enthusiasm is… notable, to say the least.”

Viserys’s brow furrows slightly, but before he can respond, Tyland speaks up, his tone even but carrying an undertone of steel.

“Surely, Lord Otto, you don’t find it concerning that lords sworn to House Lannister wish to be present to support my union with the princess?” His eyes narrow slightly, his expression calm but his voice carrying a subtle edge. “Or does the strengthening of the Crown’s alliance with the West somehow trouble you?”

Otto meets Tyland’s gaze with a measured look, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of formality. “It is not the alliance itself that raises my concern, Lord Tyland,” he replies smoothly. “It’s the sudden influx of Western influence within the heart of the court. The Crown’s interests must remain balanced, and as Hand, it is my duty to ensure that one region does not… overstep.”

A faint smile tugs at Tyland’s lips, though his eyes remain sharp. “House Lannister has long been a loyal servant to the Crown, Lord Otto. And if my kin see fit to lend their support to this union, it’s only a reflection of their dedication to stability.” He pauses, letting the words hang for a moment. “Or is it that you fear the West’s influence might rival that of the Reach?”

Viserys raises a hand, his expression firm but carrying a hint of weariness as he interjects. “This union was intended to bring peace and strength, not division.” He glances between Otto and Tyland, his tone carrying an undercurrent of authority. “Otto, I understand your concerns, but I expect all of my council to work toward a shared vision for the realm.”

Lyonel Strong, ever the voice of reason, inclines his head and speaks up. “Your Grace is wise. Both the Reach and the West are pillars of strength within the realm. Surely, we can find a way to honor both without falling into rivalries.”

Beesbury nods in agreement. “Precisely. The nobility’s support should be a cause for celebration, not suspicion. If anything, this wedding reaffirms the unity of Westeros.”

Otto’s jaw tightens, though he keeps his expression respectful as he inclines his head toward Viserys. “Of course, Your Grace. I merely wish to ensure that our alliances remain… in harmony.”

Tyland watches Otto with a faint, knowing smile, his gaze unwavering. “Rest assured, Lord Otto, House Lannister’s loyalty remains with the King and his vision for the realm. We are here to strengthen the throne, not challenge it.”

Viserys nods, clearly satisfied with the exchange. “Good. That is what I wish to hear from all my council. Let us continue preparations for the wedding without unnecessary divisions. This union is a gift to the realm, a sign of our strength.”

The room falls into a respectful silence, and Tyland glances briefly at Otto, catching the faint hint of disdain still lingering in the Hand’s eyes. But he lets it go, choosing instead to focus on the satisfaction of having the King’s support and the chance to stand beside you openly, unchallenged.

The afternoon sun filters gently through the leaves of the garden, casting dappled shadows across the soft grass where Daemon lounges with an air of casual defiance. He’s sprawled on a low stone bench, eyes half-lidded, but there’s an unmistakable edge to his expression, a simmering intensity that hints at the impatience he’s barely kept in check for weeks.

Across the garden path, Tyland approaches, deep in conversation with a few courtiers from the Westerlands, their voices a soft hum in the distance. The men laugh, voices warm with camaraderie, but Daemon’s gaze sharpens as he watches them approach. A faint smile, more of a smirk than anything, curves on his lips as he rises slowly, deliberately positioning himself in their path.

When Tyland and his companions draw near, Daemon makes no effort to move aside. Instead, he inclines his head with a mocking smile, his gaze fixed squarely on Tyland, ignoring the courtiers entirely.

“Lord Tyland,” Daemon drawls, his voice carrying a faint, derisive edge. “So good of you to grace the gardens today. I thought you might be too busy… consolidating all that influence you’ve acquired.”

Tyland stops, meeting Daemon’s gaze with a cool, measured expression, his tone even. “Prince Daemon,” he replies, inclining his head in polite acknowledgment. “The gardens are a welcome respite from court, though I hadn’t expected to find you here.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Oh, I find the garden to be an excellent place to observe the… comings and goings of court.” He pauses, his tone growing colder as he adds, “Particularly when certain guests are determined to dig their roots a little too deeply.”

One of the courtiers, an older lord from the Westerlands, glances nervously between the two men, sensing the tension. “Perhaps we should take our leave, my lord,” he murmurs to Tyland.

But Tyland gives a slight shake of his head, his gaze never leaving Daemon. “No need,” he says, his voice steady. “Prince Daemon and I merely have… differing perspectives.”

Daemon chuckles, crossing his arms as he looks Tyland up and down, his gaze both mocking and probing. “Differing perspectives, indeed. Tell me, Tyland—have you grown comfortable here, at court, or are you simply savoring the novelty? A lion in the dragon’s den. You must enjoy the thrill of it.”

Tyland’s expression remains unreadable, his tone calm but firm. “I am here because I was invited, Prince Daemon, by both the King and the princess.” His gaze sharpens, a hint of steel in his eyes. “If my presence disturbs you, perhaps it is because you see the strength it brings to the realm.”

Daemon laughs, the sound more biting than amused. “Strength? Is that what you call it?” He takes a step closer, his voice lowering, though his words are pointed enough for the courtiers to hear. “Tell me, Tyland, do you honestly believe your golden lion could ever hold its own against the fire of a dragon?”

The Westerlands lord shifts uncomfortably, but Tyland holds Daemon’s gaze, his tone unwavering. “Respectfully, Prince Daemon, strength does not always roar. Sometimes it is silent, enduring… and far more resilient than flame.” His eyes narrow slightly. “And House Lannister has withstood far more than the bite of a dragon’s fire.”

Daemon’s smirk fades, a flash of anger darkening his gaze. “I wonder if you’ll keep such confidence when you realize that dragons do not tolerate the pride of lions.”

Tyland’s face remains impassive, his voice a calm counterpoint to Daemon’s rising anger. “Perhaps you would do well to remember that lions do not bow so easily, either.”

The courtiers glance uneasily between them, caught between the quiet intensity of Tyland’s defiance and the barely contained rage simmering beneath Daemon’s casual exterior. Finally, one of them steps forward, bowing slightly to Daemon in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“Prince Daemon, Lord Tyland,” he says cautiously. “Perhaps… it would be best to keep our focus on the upcoming celebrations. The union between House Targaryen and House Lannister is a boon to the realm.”

Daemon’s gaze flicks to the courtier with a look of faint disdain, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he steps even closer to Tyland, his voice a quiet, venomous whisper. “If you believe that a wedding band and a few pretty words will make you my equal, Tyland, you’re sorely mistaken. You may sit at court, but know this—you will never be part of my family.”

Tyland’s jaw tightens, but he remains composed, his voice level. “I am not here to compete with you, Prince Daemon. My loyalty is to the princess and to the realm. And whether you accept me or not will not change that.”

Daemon’s eyes blaze with a barely concealed fury, and for a moment, it seems as though he might say more—something that would truly cross the line. But instead, he steps back, his smirk returning, though his eyes remain cold.

“Very well,” he says, his tone laced with mockery. “Enjoy your place, Lord Tyland. For as long as it lasts.”

With that, Daemon turns on his heel, his movements sharp, his departure leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. The courtiers exchange uncertain glances, unsure of whether to remain or leave, but Tyland merely straightens, his expression unreadable as he watches Daemon disappear into the distance.

One of the lords, still clearly unsettled, clears his throat. “Lord Tyland… are you… all right?”

Tyland looks at him, offering a small, composed smile. “Quite all right,” he says calmly, though his gaze lingers in the direction Daemon had gone. “Let us continue. There’s still much to prepare for the wedding.”

And as he walks forward with the courtiers, Tyland’s mind remains steady, resolute. Whatever Daemon’s anger, whatever his threats, he would face them all—for you, and for the future that now lay firmly within his grasp.

The sun is warm as you sit with your ladies-in-waiting in the gardens, laughter and easy conversation filling the air. The gentle rustle of silk skirts and the soft chatter of voices blend with the birdsong, creating a rare moment of peace in the otherwise bustling Red Keep. You’re reviewing samples of delicate lace, choosing the final details for your wedding gown, when the unmistakable figure of Queen Alicent, flanked by her own ladies, steps into view.

The mood shifts instantly, the easy laughter fading as your ladies fall silent, their gazes respectful yet wary. Alicent approaches with a pleasant smile, her expression warm, though her eyes hold a glint of something sharper, a curiosity laced with subtle calculation.

“Y/N,” she greets you smoothly, her tone polite. “I thought I might join you for a moment. The preparations for your wedding must be keeping you quite busy.”

You rise, offering a polite nod, though you feel the weight of her scrutiny. “Thank you, Your Grace. They are indeed,” you reply, keeping your tone courteous. “There’s so much to plan and consider.”

Alicent nods, her gaze drifting over the lace samples and delicate fabrics before settling on you. “It’s a grand match,” she says, her voice smooth but carrying a faint edge. “A marriage between House Targaryen and House Lannister… it’s quite an alliance. No doubt it will strengthen both Houses considerably.”

You meet her gaze, aware of the probing curiosity behind her words. “That is the intent,” you reply calmly. “Both families stand to gain from this union. And it pleases the King, which is what matters most.”

Alicent’s smile remains in place, though her gaze sharpens subtly. “Yes, and House Lannister has taken a particular interest in this match. Their presence at court has been… substantial as of late. I imagine they must be quite invested in your future.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze with a measured smile. “House Lannister has always been loyal to the Crown, Your Grace. They are here to show their support for this alliance, as is expected of any House when one of their own weds a member of the royal family.”

Alicent’s expression doesn’t falter, though you can sense her curiosity deepening, her desire to uncover what she perceives as hidden motives. “Of course,” she murmurs, a hint of skepticism in her tone. “Though I wonder, what is it that Lord Tyland truly seeks? It’s rare for the lions to venture far from the Rock without a purpose.”

You feel a flicker of irritation at her insinuation, but you maintain your composure, lifting your chin slightly. “With respect, Your Grace, I wonder why this marriage concerns you so deeply. After all, it’s a match for a second sister, not a matter of succession. When Rhaenyra wed Laenor Velaryon, her marriage faced far less scrutiny, even though she was named heir to the throne. Yet here we are, with far more interest in my union.”

A faint shadow crosses Alicent’s expression, though she quickly masks it, her smile tightening slightly. “I am only concerned for the stability of the realm, Y/N. House Velaryon was already allied with House Targaryen; their marriage brought unity. But the Lannisters… they are not as close to the Throne as House Velaryon.”

You match her gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “House Lannister is sworn to the Crown, as are all great Houses. Their loyalty is to the King and his family, just as House Velaryon’s was. And Tyland… he has shown nothing but respect for me, for my family, and for the Crown.”

Alicent’s gaze lingers on you, her expression unreadable as she studies you with a mixture of surprise and mild irritation. “I see,” she replies, her tone softening slightly, though you sense she is still unconvinced. “It is… commendable, how you speak in his defense. You seem to have found quite a confidence in Lord Tyland.” Her voice is smooth, but the underlying note of scrutiny remains.

You hold her gaze, refusing to let her subtle implications unsettle you. “Confidence, yes, and respect, Your Grace. Tyland is a man of honor, and I would not have chosen him otherwise. He seeks no undue power—only a bond of loyalty, as any union between two noble Houses should offer. That is the strength we intend to bring to the realm.”

One of your ladies shifts beside you, her gaze flicking between you and the Queen, clearly sensing the tension in the air. But Alicent only smiles, her expression polite, if a bit forced, as if attempting to regain control of the conversation.

“Of course,” she replies smoothly. “Such a strong alliance should bring much-needed stability to the realm, and I am pleased to hear that you are… content in this arrangement. I am certain the King shares my hope that this union will serve the Crown well.”

You nod, your tone unwavering. “I believe it will, Your Grace. House Lannister’s loyalty and wealth will strengthen our position, and I am honored to be part of that bond.”

Alicent’s smile falters for a fraction of a second before she regains her composure, glancing briefly at her ladies before meeting your gaze once more. “Then I am glad to see you so resolved, Y/N. Such confidence befits a Targaryen princess.”

Her tone, though polite, holds an edge—a subtle reminder of the power dynamics at play, of the fact that your future, as much as it now feels like your own choice, will always be entangled with the interests of the realm.

You offer her a courteous nod, unfazed. “Thank you, Your Grace. I have found that confidence often accompanies purpose. And I am grateful for my family’s trust in me to make this choice.”

For a moment, there is a quiet tension between you, a silent clash of wills as Alicent studies you, her expression unreadable. Finally, she inclines her head with a tight smile, her gaze lingering a moment longer before she turns to her ladies.

“Very well,” she says, her tone cool and measured. “We must all be certain of our roles in service to the realm.”

With a final glance your way, she gestures to her entourage, who fall in step behind her as she departs, her graceful form retreating down the garden path. As the quiet settles in her wake, one of your ladies lets out a quiet sigh of relief, her face still flushed from the anxiety of the exchange.

You turn back to your ladies, offering them a reassuring smile as you resume your seat. “It seems, ladies,” you murmur, with a faint but confident smile, “that Queen Alicent is far more invested in this wedding than she cares to admit.”

Your ladies share knowing glances, small smiles pulling at their lips as the atmosphere eases once more. And though the conversation with Alicent still lingers in your mind, a quiet confidence settles within you. Whatever doubts or suspicions she may hold, you know where your heart and loyalty lie—and no amount of scrutiny will change that.

In the dim light of Tyland’s private chambers, the world beyond fades away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace, the press of his skin against yours, and the soft murmur of breaths shared in the quiet aftermath. You lie tangled together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the remnants of your passionate union lingering in the charged air. The warmth of the bed and the intimacy of his presence ground you, and for a few moments, you savor the closeness, resting your head against his chest as his fingers trail lazily over your shoulder.

Tyland’s hand finds yours, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over your skin as he sighs, breaking the comfortable silence with a faint chuckle. “It seems, my love, that our match is not without its share of obstacles.” His voice holds a hint of humor, though there’s an edge of something more in his tone—something darker.

You glance up, meeting his gaze, and he gives you a small, rueful smile. “I had an… encounter, let’s call it, with your dear uncle Daemon in the gardens earlier.” His fingers tighten slightly, his expression hardening as he recalls the moment. “He took it upon himself to remind me of the fire that runs in your family’s blood—and to make certain I understand my place.”

Your brow furrows as you push yourself up slightly, resting a hand on his chest as you watch him. “Daemon,” you murmur, your voice laced with a mixture of exasperation and concern. “He couldn’t resist, could he?”

Tyland lets out a low chuckle, though his eyes remain serious. “Apparently not. He made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t see me as his equal—and that he doesn’t intend to welcome me into the family with open arms.” He pauses, his gaze searching yours. “But I assured him that my loyalty is unwavering. No amount of fire from a Targaryen can scorch my resolve.”

A soft smile tugs at your lips, and you reach up to brush a hand along his cheek, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m not surprised Daemon tried to intimidate you. He’s… protective in his own twisted way. But he’ll come around. He’ll have to. I’ve chosen you.”

Tyland’s expression softens, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And for that, I would face dragons a thousand times over.”

You nestle against him, feeling a sense of security in his arms, but the memory of your own recent encounter with Queen Alicent stirs in your mind. Letting out a small sigh, you say softly, “You aren’t the only one who’s had to fend off a member of my family.”

Tyland’s brow arches in interest, his hand coming to rest on your back as he listens. “Oh? Don’t tell me the Queen has taken it upon herself to extend her… concerns.”

You nod, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “You know her well. Alicent came to the gardens earlier, surrounded by her ladies, trying to gauge my intentions—and by extension, yours. She questioned whether House Lannister’s presence at court was truly as benign as it seems.”

Tyland snorts softly, shaking his head. “So she’s taken to examining motives behind every veil and shadow now, has she? What did you tell her?”

“I reminded her,” you reply, a touch of pride in your voice, “that as a second sister, my marriage should hardly warrant such scrutiny. After all, Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor faced far less questioning. Alicent didn’t seem pleased by that comparison.”

Tyland chuckles, a faint smirk gracing his lips. “Well said. The Queen may play her games, but you, my love, are more than her match.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It seems we both have to endure our share of challenges from your family. But I would face a hundred of them if it meant being here with you.”

You smile, nestling closer to him, feeling the strength of his resolve surrounding you like a protective barrier. “Whatever challenges they throw at us, we’ll face them together. Alicent, Daemon… they may doubt, they may question, but our loyalty and love for each other remain unshaken.”

Tyland nods, his expression serious as he gazes into your eyes. “And that, my love, is something neither dragons nor queens can ever take from us.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, you find solace in the quiet strength of your bond, knowing that, no matter the challenges, you have each other to face them with—unwavering, together.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

To My Friend: Or, a Letter From a Villain

My dearest,

I am sorry. For everything that has passed between us. I am sorry for the fights we have had, for the scabs on our knees and the pranks we have played. I am sorry we did not do more of it. 

I remember we used to sit on that tree. We carved our names on it. It was not romantic. We didn't know what romance was. It didn't matter, even if it was romance. We were just having fun. 

We had a challenge to climb it all the way up to the top. It was the highest tree in the forest, or so your sister told you. I'm sorry that I never did reach that top branch, and even more sorry that I never helped you up there.

I pushed you off once. Your knee was fractured, and you yelled so loudly the weird girl from the next village over came to investigate. She helped me carry you all the way home. Mother and Father yelled at me so afterwards. I remember having to do your chores for weeks afterwards. I am sorry for that. Your tears made my heart ache so badly. I cannot believe you still let me draw on the cast. Did you like the flowers I put on them? I do not know if you could tell, but they were supposed to be lilies. Your favourite.

How are you now? Did you manage to start the shop you always wanted to man? I know you told your mother about it, and she slapped you and said to dream bigger. She told you that you would be great one day. I hope you are not. Greatness really is not what it was cracked up to be.

I am sorry I have not spoken with you. I did not think you would want me to, what with what has happened since. I do not think you would be happy to see me. I am everything I ever wanted to be, and I hate it.

We dreamed as children, did we not? I dreamt of a crown of jewels and a throne of bone, a foolish thing to want for a boy such as I. You dreamt of a quiet butchery at the heart of the village, leaning on the counter and bragging about being the one to provide the Emperor with freshmeats. What kind of whelp dreams of being a butcher, anyways? I am sorry I did not mock you for it.

How silly we were there, little kids playing a wild game of pretend. How different we were. How foolish.

I do not eat freshmeats from a butcher. No, I feast of flesh right from the bone. It tastes fresher, sharper, like the memory of you carving into my heart. Do you like carvings, still? You used to make the most adorable birds out of called branches. I would scour the forest after a storm and bring the best pieces just for you.

I would give you all the branches in the world to have you by my side. You could be my lady, my advisor, my butcher. Whatever position you want, my friend, you could have it. Just come back. Please. I am sorry for what I have become, for the monster I see in the mirror.

That tree we used to sit on is fallen now. I had it cut down after I took the throne. I am sorry for that, too. Nonetheless, it sits in my trophy room now. We could sit on it together again. I could have servants push the both of us up onto its topmost branches.

What do you say, my friend? Will you come back to me? Will you accept my apology, and renew what cruel fate tore apart? Will you be my friend again?

Remember: I know where you live. And I can bring you back to me, whether you like it or not.

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[arcgayne]

my reasoning:

(these rankings are based on multiple criteria, such as relatability, hotness, relevance, how interesting they are as a character, and so on and so forth).

1) Jinx: she’s literally me. so silly and mentally unstable. needs therapy so bad and it shows. i fucking love her. please get help queen

2) Ekko: literally has never done anything wrong ever. moral compass strong as fuck. bonus points for looking cool. he’s also literally me but jinx wins over him bc she’s more unhinged.

3) Viktor: my fucking beloved. Do I want to be him? Do I want to be with him? Realistically I want neither of these things but unrealistically I need this man in ways even the hexcore couldn’t comprehend.

4) Mel: God I fucking love a powerful smart beautiful woman. AND she has mommy issues? she’s literally perfect. i’m rotating her in my head as we speak

5) Vi: hot tragic lesbian. almost lost points for becoming a cop but then she quit so it’s all good. for now. I have knowledge about what she ends up doing bc of the video game and I am currently choosing to ignore it in favor of the show timeline. Let me dream.

6) Sevika: hot. muscles. vodka aunt. hot. emotionally unavailable. hot. did i mention hot

7) grayson: i think it’s hilarious that she ranks higher than everyone else below her on this list. she literally only gets points for being attractive. especially her voice like ugghhh. what else can i say.

8) sky: perfect angel. so fucking smart and cool. deserves better. i need to know more about her or i will actually explode. hearing her voice made me so happy y’all have no idea

9) powder: baby. deserves the world. only ranks lower bc she doesn’t exactly “exist” anymore or whatever. justice for powder AND jinx 2025

10) caitlyn: hot. but ew cop moment. the fact that her sympathy for zaunites was crushed so easily really annoys me. like girl do you even have principles. ur revenge era would be cool if it wasn’t police brutality like noooo caitlyn pls don’t let a dictator use you to further destabilize your country for her own gain you’re so sexyyy ahaha… idk man it’s complicated. she should quit her job and get a new one. and then get therapy.

11) Jayce: he’s interesting in that he is a good example of a privileged person attempting to make things better by utilizing the system, only to get sucked into said system, becoming part of it and therefore part of the problem. the road to hell is paved with good intentions. his intentions are so good and yet. he is idiot. I hope Ekko and heimydingy are able to lessen his idiocy.

12) ambessa: hooottttttttttt. so fucking hot. goddamn. have y’all SEEN the music video for blood sweat and tears. i’m fucking FERAL. unfortunately for her, looks aren’t everything and she’s the fucking worst so here we are.

13) elora: beautiful powerful wonderful woman. need more of her. what is her life like. have she and mel ever kissed. much to think about here.

14) heimerdinger: he’s annoying and he doesn’t take the much needed time to explain why he makes the decisions he’s making... but he’s also right. which i hate because he’s annoying. but i also like that he’s annoying because it shows the very true fact that ppl who are annoying can in fact be right about things. also his heist with ekko was funny and endearing so he has that going for him. ekko carried tho ngl

15) vander: he’s cool cuz he’s a swag dad. a kind man and a protective guy. all around a great dude tbh. ranks lower because he doesn’t have any particularly interesting character traits to me.

16) finn: he looks cool as fuck but isn’t relevant and is also kind of an annoying brat. which is funny but like also bro. stop.

17) ximena: literally lost some of her fingers to frostbite to protect her baby child kid son. based. i love her.

18) cassandra: milf. the scene with the her and the gun? cool as fuck. ranks lower bc, again, not very relevant. and also dead lol

19) tobias: imma be honest idrc abt tobias at all i just didn’t want to separate him from his wife. he has enough of that in the show LOL

20) claggor: sweet boy. deserved better. i wonder what he would be like now if he’d been able to grow up.

21) silco: morally i hate this guy but he’s also a fascinating character. he’s cool as fuck and a bitch. plus he does eyeball drugs. there are so many fucked up things about this dude i can’t list them all. overall he’s a very well done character and an absolutely fantastic villain. what a piece of work.

22) benzo: just an all around good dude. ranks low bc he’s extremely irrelevant. sorry dude. if this was a morals contest he’d obv be ranked higher, but it’s not, so here we are.

23) jericho: had to look him up LOLLLL thanks for making food for vi i guess. people who make food for other people are the best. that being said he ranks low because, again, irrelevant.

24) mylo: cringe fail asshole. not ranked last bc he was a kid, so i can give him the benefit of the doubt, cuz maybe he would’ve been a better person as an adult… but also he never got to be one so oops lol get ranked low loser

25) singed: brother euughhh. i like drugs too but not THAT much. maybe give this man some backstory and i’ll care about him. as it stands rn idgaf about this guy. i rebuke thee, get AWAY

26) marcus: fucking piece of shit rat. fuck this guy. selfish coward and i hate him forever. die

Here's a fun little sorter I put together for Arcane characters! Reblog with your list!

Let the sorting commence!

[cobaltperun]

Darkest Part (4) - Died In Your Arms

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 5.3k

-Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight, it must've been some kind of kiss, I should've walked away-

This was a good life, hot chocolate, paper taped to the desk as you drew your third sketch of the building you had in mind. Away from all the worries and for a moment free from any obligations.

“How’s it going?” your mom came up to you and leaned over to kiss your cheek.

“Mom, you shouldn’t-“ she didn’t wince, her back didn’t hurt, yeah, it would end soon, and you desperately wanted it to continue. Wanted things to get better, wanted her to be healthy again.

Your phone had other ideas, as the alarm rang and the sound of it startled you awake. Curse your need to constantly change your alarm ringtone, otherwise you’d get used to it and sleep right through it. This new one was ridiculously awful, like someone constantly ringing the bell, but it got the job done. “Am I ever going to wake up well-rested again?” you wondered, feeling like you barely slept a wink. You just couldn’t get used to this house.

Well, considering the tales about it, maybe that wasn’t that strange.

Or it was just the reasonable explanation.

As it was, last night your exhausted body just collapsed onto the bed and you fell asleep, and then got woken up by the chill of the night, because of course you were too tired to cover yourself. What followed was you spending way too long trying to warm up. Winter River indeed, it really was cold. Why couldn’t this be some pleasant warm place, somewhere you could still go around wearing short sleeves instead of already needing several layers of clothing.

The only thing worse than the cold was the Chihuahua that was also in the house. “Why the fuck would I let her be on my mind first thing in the morning?” you slapped your forehead, now even more annoyed. Of all the people you could have thought of at the start your day, it had to be her.

Annoyed, you threw the covers off and immediately came to regret it as the cold air made you shiver. On second thought you should probably stay in bed a bit longer, so you went back under the covers into the warm escape from the chilling cold. You swiftly unlocked your phone and figured you might as well check up on your mom and Alex. You sent each of them a message asking how they were and if everything was fine and put your phone away. It was still too early to call them and if you had to be awake it didn't mean you had to wake them up too.

~X~

Halfway through the day and a lot of packing later, you sat down at the table exhausted with the hot cup of tea in front of you. You really needed that as the warmth of the tea seemed to seep into your very soul. Actually, you also needed a blanket around your shoulders and the nice warm fire accompanied by perhaps movie. It's been a while since you've watched ‘Kill, Baby, Kill’ and you were really in the mood for it after these past few days.

Seeing your favorite movie again would probably make your life a tiny bit better.

No, instead of that you had to deal with someone rather happy getting inside the house with an obvious bounce to their steps. You raised your head, confused and for a moment even terrified that someone actually broke in and just didn't care about making noises. And then that someone walked through the door into the dining room and you would have been a lot happier if it was a burglar.

No. Instead it was the fucking Chihuahua what a wide, frighteningly bright, and happy grin on her face and the world was going to end any moment now. You were fairly sure, and not at all being too dramatic, that Astrid Deetz, also known as Chihuahua, being this obviously happy was one of the eleven signs of the apocalypse.

“Oh, of course you're here. Well, it doesn't matter, not even you can ruin my mood,” she just  walked past you, still happy, and not throwing insults at you. She didn’t do anything! Absolutely nothing! Not even glaring at you and you could not remember the last time you were this frightened.

You scrambled to your feet and rushed outside. “Delia!” you cried out hoping the woman would have some kind of help for you maybe some medicine for hallucinations or a plausible explanation or anything really as long as it helped. You desperately needed someone to convince you that just made what happened up in your head!

It was all in your head. There was no other explanation, which made it even more concerning because Astrid Deetz being in your head and part of your hallucinations was not a good sign for you. Frankly, at this point you had no idea which was worse, Astrid being happy or you thinking about the damn Chihuahua to the point of hallucinating seeing her happy.

~X~

“Damn it Delia, why couldn’t you just get this delivered to the damn house?!” you hissed, a lot like the creatures inside the box you were currently carrying. You knew you had fear of heights before, but apparently you also had a fear of snakes. Which was made a lot worse by the sounds the snakes were making and you were praying that the people Delia bought the snakes from didn't scam her and actually defanged them.

Sure, in theory you were safe. The box was sealed, and safe, but your brain still came up with frightening scenarios. As safe as the box probably was you were still frightened that they would somehow find their way out and bite you and you did not want to die due to snake bites.

‘How many times am I going to risk my life in one single week?’ you wondered, and you really shouldn't have because you had a few more times before the end of this trip.

You finally reached the house and couldn’t have been happier to see it as you rushed up the stairs and set the box on the table for Delia to do whatever she intended to do with the snakes. You really hoped she wouldn't make you go with her because at that point you might actually think staying with Rory would be more pleasant. And just to be safe you immediately turned to Delia when she walked into the room. “I'm done with the snakes, I did my part the rest is up to you,” you urgently informed her before she could get more great ideas.

Delia just laughed. “They are defanged, don't worry,” apparently they were, you weren’t about to check.

You slumped slightly, doing your best puppy eyes to get her to let you stay out of this. “I am still not comfortable around snakes, so please don’t ask me to help you with them,” well at least she didn't look like she would push you to join her as she smiled and patted you on the shoulder.

“Come on, I'm not that cruel,” she smiled at you and then shook her head in amusement at the relief showing on your face. “I thought it would be a good experience is for you to watch, but it’s fine if you don’t. Oh and Y/N, you can rest tonight, you don't even have to go to the wedding,” she was telling you one good news after the other. “We have a few more things to do tomorrow morning and then you can go back home,” Delia surprise you but maybe you should have expected it. She had her moments of kindness and you've been on the receiving end plenty of times, despite all the less pleasant, more dangerous and difficult moments you had with her.

“Thanks Delia, I really appreciate it,” you told her as Astrid joined the two of you.

“Snakes?” Astrid looked at the content of the box, surprised by what she saw and for once you couldn't blame her. Personally, you didn't quite get why Delia got them herself but she wanted them and she got them. Something about Ancient Egypt and Pharaohs from what you understood.

“Actually asps,” Delia corrected her, and you had to admit she actually sounded excited about them.

“Why? Are they a wedding gift for Rory?” Astrid asked, hopeful that the answer would be yes.

“Now that would’ve made it worth carrying them,” you knew that wasn’t their purpose but  no one could force you to stop happily imagining Rory freaking out over the snakes.

For the first time since you've known her, Astrid actually didn't have a rude remark or an insult for you, and actually just rolled her eyes with a smile which was almost freaky but not exactly an unwelcome change.

“Too late they've be defanged, guaranteed harmless! And they're for me.” Delia shattered your dreams well, yours was never even allowed to begin because you knew from the start what she wanted to do with them. Still for a moment you could hope that she would at least use them as a prank. It’s not like they were one se only! She could use them for more than one thing. After all, she already got them, why not just use them on the bastard as a very funny prank. It would not change anything about the snakes, and they could still be used for the ritual thing she had in mind.

Well, you were left with only your dreams.

You left the two of them to check if there was anything left unpacked, you were just about to head back upstairs when Lydia rushed down and you turned around, not sure how to react to the frantic woman.

“You got your wish, we're leaving! Pack up your things, I'm driving you back to school,” Lydia seemed absolutely frantic, like she just saw a ghost, which, well, she was supposed to be able to see them. You watched from the stairs as she went by you and toward the front door

“Wait! What happened” Astrid called after her.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Lydia denied answering Astrid’s question.  That actually made sense, especially if it had something to do with ghosts, which this house apparently had at one point. So going by their relationship and the issues Astrid had with her mother you guessed it was something paranormal in question.

Delia, however, did not make that connection. “Oh you're calling off the wedding?” she went after Lydia outside and just for a moment you and Astrid exchanged looks do you just shrugged finally realizing that you couldn't even begin to try and have a normal conversation with her. That's how used you were to just fights and banter and insults and everything that came along with this hatred between you.

Eventually you just pointed at yourself then point upstairs and then point at her and outside. The message being clear, you would, rather regrettably, check up on Rory while she would go and check up on her mother.

To that Astrid, just as unsure of how to interact with you like a normal human being, just went and gave you a thumbs up and you both went your separate ways, one up the stairs to the attic and the other outside to talk to her mother.

~X~

Lydia was stuck in the office, just contemplating everything about her and Astrid’s relationship.

Apparently, her daughter was not gay. In fact, she had a date with a boy. Her first date was with a boy, not with the girl as she expected it would be. Did Lydia really mess up that much that she wasn't even capable of seeing how things actually were? Her daughter, who she believed was gay and actually had a crush on you and was just unable to properly act up on those feelings, threw her a curveball and was going on a date on Halloween night with a boy she met 2 days ago.

How did she miss the signs?

Her concerns were now even bigger because, unlike you, this boy was a complete unknown for Lydia. She didn't know his full name, she didn't know his parents, granted she didn't know your parents either but that was beside the point, she didn't know how he spent his time, what his interests were. She didn't know anyone who knew him, and she was now overthinking it and panicking and was getting even more nervous and afraid for her own daughter because this was a mess, and she was disappointed in herself as a mother for mistaking her daughter’s sexuality.

Maybe Astrid was just bisexual. Maybe. Maybe Lydia just got so deep into preparing for a girlfriend that she forgot that there were other options, all equally daunting for her as the mother of a child that would soon start, that actually just stated dating, and find her own love and heartbreak and everything Lydia herself went through all those decades ago.

Also did her daughter actually just tell her that she crashed through the fence and that's how she met the guy? Like it was just something people did for fun? How did that even happen?

Lydia began breathing deeply, huffing and taking very loud, very deep breaths. She could not go down that train of thought.

~X~

He liked her.

Jeremy liked her. Astrid knew that much, she could see signs that he wanted to kiss her, that he really didn't want to spend any time handing out candies to the kids and instead actually wanted to spend time with her.

And she, at least logically speaking, wasn't opposed to the idea. At least it would prove to her that some feelings she may or may not have were, in fact, not real and just her heart playing with her brain so she would kiss him to prove her heart wrong.

Astrid let him approach her, she felt his hands on her, hugging her and she hugged him back, and he held her like he hasn’t been touched in years. Like he was desperate to feel someone’s touch, someone’s kind and positive touch. Astrid could almost feel his breath on her lips and then she just couldn't do it, because there was an infuriating Barnacle plaguing her thoughts at that very moment.

She pulled away, separating from him even though she knew how it looked. “Sorry I just I think we are rushing too fast into this,” she apologized and he seemed understanding at first. At least from the looks of it, he just turned to the window and looked rejected “I'm not saying I'm opposed to kissing you eventually, but we just met two days ago,” she tried to cheer him up but then he turned to face her.

“No, you’re right, I'm- I'm sorry I just got excited because you can see me and for over 23 years no one saw me and I just thought we had something,” she must have heard him wrong but then she looked down and saw it.

He was floating and that's when she realized all the stories her mother told were actually true and she was actually seeing a ghost these past few days

~X~

You were in the living room, with everyone aside from Astrid and Rory, plus Jane, just lazing around on the sofa and texting Alex. You weren’t in a costume, you had no intention of dressing up for the Halloween.

The truth was, you kind of hated Halloween. Well hate might be a strong word, mostly reserved for Astrid and maybe another thing or two. No the actual word you were looking for regarding Halloween was more like indifference brought upon by that's one time you got dressed as a pumpkin and got teased for by your classmates.

It wasn't fun. It was actually horrific and ever since then you just didn't bother celebrating Halloween. So, what if Astrid was currently on her ridiculous date? It had nothing to do with your current mood. Even if you did hated the guy more than you hated her for some reason. You should have felt sorry for him, after all he was the one who had to deal with being on a date with the Chihuahua.

So, no, you did not care about Astrid being on a date with some random dude.

You just realized you’d be all alone. Delia would be at the cemetery doing whatever she seemed to want to do with the snakes and Lydia would be preparing for her wedding and Rory would be giving out the candy. And you were fine with that. You would just be hanging around on the couch in the living room waiting for Delia to sign all the papers and then you could just go ahead and leave, just start packing what little things you brought here and get ready to go back home. Luckily Delia promised she would arrange a car to come pick you up.

“Where's Rory?” Lydia asked out of blue, almost as if she was asking out of obligation, because she should know where he was and not because she actually had to know where he was. Especially since she had Chihuahua’s first date to worry about.

“Supermarket swapping out the candy I bought for carrot sticks, because Rory loves to fun suck everything even Halloween,” of course Delia did not miss a single chance point out the kind of person Rory was, because Lydia apparently couldn’t see him for who he really was. Even if it didn’t change anything you figured she did feel the need to, in her own way, warn her stepdaughter about him because as far as you knew telling Lydia that Rory was not who he was presenting himself as wasn't working. “Gotta run, see you at the church,” she turned back to Lydia and with a hopeful look added. “Unless you're calling off the wedding.”

“No Delia,” Lydia sighed and just noticed Delia was leaving, that was how focused on Astrid she was. “Wait, why are you going to the cemetery?” Lydia asked. It just crossed your mind that she in her panic earlier today did not see the snakes Delia bought.

“To commune with my dear husband spirit,” was all Delia needed to say. She quickly waved at you and was on her way leaving you alone with Lydia and Jane and from the looks of it, Jane was going to leave soon so that would just leave you and Lydia alone in the house for a while. At least until she would go and get Astrid. Oh, and until Rory came back.

Still, it could be fun. You haven't had the chance to be on your own wait the Lydia Deetz and you actually were curious about her. And it had nothing to do with maybe not wanting to be alone while a certain Chihuahua was on a date with a guy she met two days ago, while she spent so damn long hating you. Yeah, that had nothing to do with it.

Nothing at all!

You did not care where that stupid Chihuahua was or how quickly she fell in love like dumb ass.

“The closest we ever got to Disney was when Astrid dressed as Cinderella’s dead mom,” you absolutely did not filter out what Jane mentioned about her daughter and scouts or whatever group her daughter was in and you absolutely did not think Astrid’s costume sounded exactly like her.

Jane said something something fruit salad mortgage something something non triggering and then asked the question that was annoying the hell out of you, that is, she asked where Astrid was.

Lydia had this soft, yet somber smile on her face. “On a date,” she said, like a parent learning to accept their child was growing up. “Her first. I think I'm more nervous than she is. The boy lives over on Jefferson,” Lydia really did sound nervous when she said that, and you guessed between their rocky relationship and all the things that happened Astrid’s first date at this moment wasn’t something Lydia was entirely prepared for.

Something something perfect sales records something something on the market for years something something once more you're pretty much tuning out the words of the woman the Deetz family hired to sell their house. And you were doing good, tuning her out, that is until she said three words: the murder house and you immediately sat up and stopped texting Alex. A sinking feeling inside of your guts was almost telling you to pay attention because you just had a bad feeling about what was going to they said next.

“Murder house? Which house?” Lydia asked now frantic and you sort of pieced together that's maybe the house show left Astrid at wasn't that far off from looking like a murder house. Because if the house looked normal and if Lydia you got to see the parents or that boy she would not be looking this afraid right now.

“125,” James said and just from the look of Lydia's face you knew that was the house Astrid was in and so you jumped to your feet and rushed to get the car keys.

“Fucking hell Chihuahua, what did you get yourself into?” just as you've got the keys you saw Lydia rushing out. “I'm going with you!” you quickly told her and followed after her into the car. The woman was clearly in shock but all she cared about was just getting to Astrid, nothing else mattered.

You did not dare to tell her you would get there in time. You had no idea how all of this worked, sure you believed in ghosts and you've been seeing glimpses of strange things throughout your life. You still had no idea how any of that actually functioned. You had no idea if they could harm Astrid.

If the guy she was with was bad news then she probably was in danger and especially if Lydia, the most competent person to judge if her daughter was in danger from ghosts was also panicking. “He killed his parents 23 years ago!” okay, Astrid was definitely in danger. “If I just didn’t let her into that house, if I just went in with her! What kind of mother am I if something happens to her-“ Lydia was mostly talking to herself.

“Hey, wait, wait, don't go there you couldn't know!” You tried to get her to calm down. “You're the expert but you couldn't know! Just focus on saving her so you can berate yourself later,” you needed her focused because if she wasn't, you had no hopes of getting Astrid back in time. And you really, as much as you didn't like Astrid, did not want her dead or in danger.

~X~

The moment the car began slowing down in front of the house you just ran out, without even waiting for it to stop and ran up the stairs ignoring the for sale sign in front of the house. You ended up bursting through the doors so hard the handle might have gotten a bit damaged because the doors were old.

You stumbled when you entered the house, you felt sick for a moment when you saw the man. But you did not see him clearly, it was like there was a mist around him.

"Astrid!" Lydia yelled and it snapped you out of your confusion. That man was a ghost, mist meant ghost, at least at this stage of your ability to see ghosts. So, you rushed right through the woman going down the stairs.

"Wait! Deetz!" you yelled as loud as you could as you ran up the stairs two steps at a time. You saw the light and broke through the door, but Astrid just walked through something.

"What the? Barnacle?" your eyes met and you reached out to her but the ghost guy grabbed her forearm and pulled her along and the portal closed before you could reach out and grab her hand.

"Astrid!" Lydia cried out, but it was too late as well.

If only she reached out to you. For the first time since you met her you cursed yourself for not being at least civil with her. "Damn it!" you slammed your fist on the old table, right next to some thick book. "What do we do now?"

Lydia grabbed the book on the table, your outburst probably caught her attention. "Come on, I have a crazy idea," you saw uncertainty in her eyes, fear that maybe not even what she had in mind would be enough, but she had to hope. You both rushed down the stairs, every second mattered and you couldn't waste time on just talking. "Can you drive?" she asked, clearly intending to go through the book.

"Of course," you nodded and ran to the car, starting the engine once more as Lydia sat down next to you.

~X~

You had no time to waste, as you drove around the house and parked the car right in front of the entrance to the house, not even caring that you would somewhat block the path for the kids. They could avoid the car, it didn't matter, you just had to be quick and find a way to rescue Astrid, so up to the stairs you drove.

“Y/N?! Where’s the rush? You're nearly drove into the house!” Rory exclaimed as he was on top of the stairs preparing to hand out the candy to the kids, but you just ran past him not really wasting a moment to stop and chat. You didn’t even turn the engine off, just parked the car.

Lydia gave him some excuse or whatever as you both rushed upstairs. She already told you where to go so you just grabbed the crowbar on the way upstairs and started removing the boards Delia and Lydia put there just an hour or so ago. By the time Lydia came up the stairs as well you were almost done and you both pulled the last wooden board out of the way and went into the attic and from that point on you could only watch her as she found the solution.

The first thing that caught your eye was the small scale model of Winter River, done in amazing detail, and if things were any different you would have spent hours studying it.

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” she took a deep breath. “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!” you had no idea what was going on as she repeated that word? Name? Whatever it was three times.

And then the freakiest thing happened the mist slash smoke surrounding the paranormal vanished from your vision as the zombie-looking guy with green hair and striped suits and rather unhealthy-looking skin emerged from the Winter River model. “The juice is loose,” he said and vanished, only to appear right next to Lydia.

“I need you to tell me what this means,” she skipped the formalities and just showed him the pages of the book she found in that room where Astrid was.

“Let's have a look,” he pulled out a magnifying glass. “Long story short, your daughter is screwed,” well, fuck! “She decided to trade lives with a boy, he gets to come back while she's stuck on the other side, permanently. One way ticket to the Soul Train,” this guy, Beetlejuice, explained and you were just absolutely confused about what was going on. Afterlife actually existed, and people could come back.

More importantly… “She did what?! Why would she do that? Who does that?” you demanded. Astrid was smart! What did that ghost offer her to make her accept giving up her life? Or did he just outright trick her? “Shit, we need to get her back,” you turned away from Lydia and Beetlejuice and ran your hand through your hair, not even sure you would make it in time.

“The Soul Train?” Lydia asked for further explanations.

“That's right! The last stop, The Great Beyond,” he said and you just leaned back against the wall. Was there even anything you could do at this point? Astrid was on the other and you were over here in the living world. But then again Beetlejuice was from that other world. Was that why Lydia called him? Because he could somehow move the two of you into the world of the dead?

Wait, were you about to go into the world of the dead for Astrid? Not knowing the risks, or the consequences, or if it would be dangerous? You knew nothing about it, it was a complete unknown that you weren’t even sure existed five minutes ago!

Somehow you knew the answer was yes. You would take all those risks to take her back, because you plain and simple couldn’t live with yourself if you just let her die.

“Can we go in after her?” You asked as you once more turned toward Lydia and Beetlejuice.

“Quid pro quo, I want something in return,” while he replied to you he was looking at Lydia, as if he would only accept something from her.

Maybe those were the rules? Since she summoned him?

“Of course you do. What do you want?” Lydia asked ready to give him anything he asked for as long as it would save her daughter.

“Well I've got this ex-wife-“ Beetlejuice began and you've spent enough time with Delia and you knew a tangent when you saw one.

“Get to the point!” You exclaimed. Each second could be vital in keeping Astrid alive, and you did not want to waste it on his tangents.

“You want me to marry you,” Lydia knew what he wanted, and you just turned to look at her because what the fuck was that about? How would that even work? All of this was too much and the only reason you were keeping your sanity was because you had a goal in mind.

You weren’t sure you’d be keeping your sanity for much longer as so you watched this Beetlejuice act like getting married was Lydia's idea, like she just proposed to him because she wanted that. And then he made her sign some contract because apparently, he needed that in writing. You were in the most absurd situation possible and you half- expected to just wake up and see that everything was fine. Like this was all just a fever dream and you would wake up go to the work at the library you'd see Astrid there being annoying and being a Chihuahua and getting on your nerves and not on the way to swap lives with a ghost and die.

“What's the plan on getting in?” Lydia had enough of his bullshit as well and just demanded to know how you all would get in.  

Beetlejuice just vanished again and appeared in front of the wall, crouching and drawing a bomb with the fuse. He then just went and lit his thumb on fire. This was all absolutely ridiculous because the drawn fuse just lit on fire and the bomb exploded and instead of looking outside of the house you were looking into some office.

“Deetz, you're gonna be the death of me,” you said, ready to just go through.

“Trust me kid I know the feeling,” Beetlejuice said.

“I did not ask,” fuck it, you were going in, and you were not getting out without Astrid.

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Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

[blue-eyed-beastie]

Oh my goodness! This is it!! Thank you for this!

I was able to find the original novel through Project Gutenberg. It's free to read on any web browser! Helpful hint: If you use Firefox, it gives you the option to translate it automatically (but with varied and sometimes hilarious results).

Anyway, as far as I can tell, the story is told through a series of letters. The excerpt from Belle's book is from a letter written by one Annette Bourdon to her friend Adelaide Fairlie, dated 19 September at Les Frênes (in case you want to look up the exact chapter, since they aren't numbered).

I won't include the entire translation, because it is quite long, but it's worth the read. By the way, I'm not at all disappointed that my earlier guesses about the context were wrong. I'm just thrilled that someone else knew what the excerpt was from so that I could read it in its entirety!

For those who don't have the time to read it right now, the summary of it is that Annette is discussing her engagement to Paul, and what has happened since, and how she feels about it. She also wonders what comes after marriage (and yes, she means the bedroom!):

There must be novels that talk about these situations, novels that I'm forbidden to read. As soon as I'm married, I'll read everything that's been forbidden to me; so I will be informed and I will know what I must do, in case of necessity. I am determined to be very good to my husband, but I would not want to cause anyone unnecessary pain. If someone courts me, I will be happy. I like to be looked at, and to be talked to. All alone, I get bored and sometimes I have done extravagances to attract attention. I told you about the one in the river, but it was my sister who had the idea. No matter, I see that the idea was not bad, because it is since that moment that Paul began to look at me with completely new eyes. As for me, if I saw a naked man swimming on the surface of the water, it would frighten me and I would start running. Men are braver; they are not even afraid at all. They both seemed ecstatic, and I almost laughed, which would have made me drink water and drown. What a pity, but what an opportunity for Paul to fish me out and hold me in his arms, like a languid siren!

Ah, the languid siren that was mentioned at the beginning of the excerpt! One translation suggested "mermaid", which I actually prefer in this context, since sirens tend to want to drown their victims. Mermaids, not so much! (See: The Little Mermaid, as a case in point.)

Now, I won't quote the entire excerpt again, but I did want to know what the very last fragmented sentence turned out to be, so I will include it below in its full context, plus a little more:

Paul is more handsome than I have ever seen him before. He is pale with large eyes full of fever and love. I find him sublime when he kneels down beside me to look at me as if in prayer. I want to pray to him too, sometimes, and to lay my cheek on his knees, but when I have that desire, I get angry with myself and I sulk at Paul. It is very difficult to keep a man within the bounds of respect. He addressed me informally once; I did not like that. No one has ever addressed me as "tu" [you] except women. In the mouth of a man, this familiarity seemed unbearable to me. Nothing vulgar pleases me. A woman must be a queen to be completely a woman. This is the attitude I want to take from now on; even when I play hide-and-seek, people feel that I am a princess and they do not pull me carelessly by my crumpled dress. I turned eighteen the day before yesterday. At that age, one has a scepter or a fairy wand. When I laugh, there are eyes that are worried; and when I smile, people look at me to share in my smile.

The last of Annette's letter sees her looking forward to marriage, but wishing this feeling would last. She ends with this last romantic thought:

I feel that I am embarking on a long pleasure voyage. Everything laughs. Autumn itself is spring-like this year. There are languors of the month of May and freshness of new grass. One would say that it rains love every night…

While there are no sword fights or magic spells in this one, there seems to be plenty of romance, and that's all right with me. ❤️

A Closer Look at Belle's Book: Part II

In Part I, I went into some detail about the illustration inside Belle's book, but now I want to turn the page, so to speak.

Thanks to the magic of 4K, I was able to zoom in on some details in Beauty and the Beast that I had never noticed before, and this time I wanted to see what story Belle was reading. I've seen theories that it was either foreshadowing Aladdin or referencing Sleeping Beauty, and I myself noticed that it bears some artistic resemblance to Snow White... but it turns out that it has nothing to do with Disney, or its fairy tales.

It's something else entirely, and it's in French!

After zooming in and studying each frame, I managed to make out the following text:

une languissante sirene! Enfin, il sera bientôt heureux, si c'est là ce qui doit causer son bonheur. Je sais que je suis agréable à regarder, puisque j'y ai du plaisir moi-même, et de ce plaisir je ne priverai pas mon mari, au contraire. Je ne sais si je l'aimerai, je l'espère; mais je veux qu'il m'aime lui, et je ferai pour lui plaire tout ce qui lui plaira. Ah! chère Adélaïde, je suis pleine de rêves absurdes et de pensées contradictoires! Je songe à des choses qui me semblent à la fois douces et vilaines, et j'ai des imaginations qui me font rougir en même temps que pleurer! Au moins, je ne m'ennuie pas. Je vis plus en une heure de ces journées que l'an passé je ne vécus en toute l'année. Chaque heure me renouvelle, me grandit et m'épanouit. Je me semble un rosier qui fleur rirait à vue d’œil, je suis fraîche et parfumée; je suis légère et forte: j'attends le bonheur. Paul est plus beau que je ne l'avais encore jamais tu. Il est pâle avec de grands yeux pleins de fièvre et d'amour. Je le trouve sublime quand il s'agenouille près de moi pour me regarder comme en prière. J'ai envie de le prière aussi, parfois, et de coucher ma joue sur ses genoux, mais quand j'ai cette envie-la, je me fâché contre moi-meme et je boude Paul.

Which, roughly translated into English, means:

a languid siren! Finally, he will soon be happy, if that is what will make him happy. I know that I am pleasant to look at, since I take pleasure in it myself, and of this pleasure I will not deprive my husband, on the contrary. I do not know if I will love him, I hope so; but I want him to love me, and I will do whatever he pleases to please him. Ah! dear Adelaide, I am full of absurd dreams and contradictory thoughts! I think of things that seem to me both sweet and ugly, and I have fantasies that make me blush and cry at the same time! At least, I am not bored. I live more in one hour of these days than I lived in the whole year last year. Each hour renews me, makes me grow and blossom. I seem to myself a rosebush that blooms laughing before my eyes, I am fresh and fragrant; I am light and strong: I await happiness. Paul is more handsome than I have ever seen him before. He is pale with big eyes full of fever and love. I find him sublime when he kneels down next to me to look at me as if in prayer. I want to pray to him too, sometimes, and to lay my cheek on his knees, but when I have this desire, I get angry with myself and I sulk at Paul.

By the way, there is one more sentence (maybe even two) at the bottom of the page that is partially obscured by Belle's shoulder and right hand. It may or may not be important to the rest of the excerpt, but for completion's sake, I'll share it here:

Il est ... maintenir un homme dans les ...

Which translates to:

He is ... to keep a man in the ...

Intriguing, isn't it? What was she trying to say?

Overall, the author appears to be an unwed woman dreaming of her future marriage to a man named Paul. Her confidante is someone named Adelaide, but I suspect she is actually writing to herself. Regardless, she is either betrothed to Paul or she longs to be, since she calls him her husband. Perhaps it is an arranged marriage? She goes on to dwell upon his handsomeness, and how she longs to be close to him, but then she gets angry at herself for feeling this way. The last line of the passage is incomplete, but my best guess is that the author is saying that Paul is not to blame for her sulking, so it is not right to keep a man in the dark, i.e. ignorant. I could be wrong, though. In any case, she is conflicted about her feelings on the matter. You could even say that her feelings are "new, and a bit alarming".

I can see why the filmmakers chose this passage for Belle's book.

It may not be a fairy tale, but it certainly has elements from the film. There are references to beauty, roses, imagination, and eyes filled with love, and passion.

Belle:

"Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because—you’ll see Here's where she meets Prince Charming But she won't discover that it's him 'til Chapter Three!"

Do the lyrics match the story hinted at on the page itself? No, but I really respect the filmmakers for going out of their way to include this kind of detail in the film. They could have taken the easy way out, by writing out something like "Once upon a time" to echo the opening narration, or used "Lorem ipsem" Latin filler, or even meaningless brush strokes just to fill the page... but they didn't. They chose something in French that Belle herself might have liked to read. And I think that's really cool.

[xray-vex]

HOW YOUR EMAIL FINDS ME

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[avastyetwats]

"I am." He chuckled, then slowed his movements. "But if you'd rather I didn't, I won't.." His hands came to a complete stop then, which he knew Izzy would not be happy about. He'd either whine and plead for him not to stop or, more than likely, call him a 'fookin' twat' and tell him not to stop. Which he didn't stop for long. He couldn't do that to Izzy. So he continued his ministrations, massaging and scratching his wet scalp and down the back of his neck where he also paid some attention to. He rubbed at his neck -- upper, middle and lower -- before pushing his hands back up into his hair. He grabbed two handfuls and tugged gently, just to add to the relaxing sensation. It wasn't meant to be sexual by any means. But some liked to have their hair gently pulled on, Stede included, because it just felt so damn good and of course, he was gentle about it. He was the Gentleman Pirate, after all!

He laughed at Izzy's comment about lunch and Stede shook his head, nuzzling his wet shoulder. "I won't let you go that long without eating, Darling." Especially since he hadn't eaten since lunch, or even a little before. He didn't just spoil Izzy, he took care of him. He made sure he got enough rest, he made sure he ate enough - and reminded him to do so since he could get so busy on deck, he'd forget to eat - and he made sure to massage his false leg every night before bed, or when it was sore. And he just did anything and everything else possible to help him be taken care of, just as Izzy did for him. He, too, was spoiled by his lover and he basked in his love and affection, including right now. He was loving the praise that came in the form of his sweet moans and they'd only just started. The bathtub just finished filling and Stede shut it off using his foot and never for a second did he stop massaging Izzy or peppering him with soft little kisses. But then he turned his face and nuzzled it into his neck, eliciting a hum from his lips. "I ask myself that same question every day," he smiled, leaning against his head and running his hands down Izzy's arms, dipping beneath the water. "And to think it all started when you tried to steal my prisoners. Which I so cleverly foiled." He reminded him with a proud grin. "I think you always liked me, Izzy. In some way." Despite how much he hated him when they first met and all the times he wanted to be rid of Stede.

He then wraps his arms around Izzy's middle and pulls him harder against him, holding him as close as possible. He nuzzles the top of his head and squeezes him in his arms. "But I... I never thought you'd fall in love with me. I'm the lucky one..." His voice softens. "I never thought anyone could love me. Really love me. No one ever has.." But Izzy did and he was so grateful for that. For him. He could feel his eyes filling with water. "But you did... you do, and you're patient with me. You haven't given up on me and sometimes, I wonder why.." Everyone else has. He knows he can be difficult at times and... a lot, but gods, Izzy makes him feel like enough. More than enough. Like he was just... everything. "I love you." He presses a lingering kiss to his temple, tears falling from his eyes and joining the warm water.

Stede could be a handful, but it was moments like this that made it all worth it. He pampered Izzy, loved him so much it was almost frightening. He gave him love every way he could, and Izzy had never felt more whole in his life.

He sighed happily and did as instructed, shutting his eyes. He wasn’t expecting the water, he had to spit some out from his mouth, but as soon as those hands went into his hair, his chest rumbled with a loud purring moan. “ You’re spoiling me.. “ He mumbled dazily with a blissful sigh. He knew what those hands in his hair did to him. Izzy just became goo, completely relaxing into the waters of the tub, and against his husband.

He laughed softly though at his comment. “ Better make it lunch at this rate.. “ Because after this relaxing bath, he was going to pat him back for this kindness with making love to him. He opened his eyes about halfway, turning his head so he could nuzzle into his neck. “ How the fook did I ever get so lucky.. “

[killmymind]

i don’t think i’ve ever felt this lost in my life. tbh

[floral-hex]

One of my brothers is moving away to college today + I have to skip therapy, so it’s a lot of… a lot. a lot.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

i feel like i’m wasting my time on schoolwork that i ultimately don’t care about when i could be taking pictures of bugs and drawing yaoi and discussing what kind of lingerie light yagami would like based on his sense of fashion and personality

[juniestar]

Oh my god one last thing my ex took me to outside lands and when we tried to watch lana del rey he laid down on the grass and had a “panic attack” (this was after months of him talking about how he didn’t like her) so we went to see foo fighters after a bit and he was FINE

[scarletcomet]

I am so fucking miserable

[thnksfrthmmrs]

[girlwiththegreenhat]

tell me you've never had to use skype without telling me you've never had to use skype: you complain about discord