#and i am so so so bored by most 'necessary' conversations that it makes my teeth hurt and i dont know how to deal with that...

[readymades2002]

i still think that pronouns being a...somewhat common expected mode of introducing yourself is strange 😭 the purpose that makes sense to me in doing that is mostly to signal that you're trans or otherwise affiliated (which...i know that "allies" doing things like this or calling people their partner or whatever is meant to create a space where people feel comfortable coming out, but as i still cannot bring myself to come out in such situations and as i've had Really Bad Experiences with people claiming to be allies i haven't internalized this as a purpose that makes sense yet), but i know that it is also genuinely supposed to be like. "here's how you should talk about me if you want to mention me to a third person!" which is something that makes me REEL to think about. there is no universe where i want to introduce myself to someone by telling them how to correctly and incorrectly talk about me to someone else!! i don't understand...

[lilahisntsadanymore]

Blood status seems to become less important when you acknowledge the actual feeling of love. What will Theo do when Y/n comes to the terms with the differences between them being impossible to ignore?

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Author's note: My apologies for keeping you waiting so long, but I finally got some time off at uni!! Wishing you all a good year!!

Kind of a 2nd part of this fic, but you can read it without the previous one

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Keep you safe

One evening, Theo was waiting in the library. Waiting for a person he never expected to talk to. Y/n Granger. He found himself feeling a bit nervous, even though there was no reason.

Thinking about Y/n made him feel something. A feeling he never felt before. Slughorn said it's love, the muggle kind of love, the purest form, not induced by anything supernatural.

Theo decided to read about it. Hoping to find some book about it, he asked the librarian. She gave him a book specifically about love potions and spells. One of the first chapters was just what Theo was looking for.

"How to tell the difference between love and infatuation caused by magic." He whispered the first sentence to himself.

He started reading, his mind realizing what he got himself into as his gaze brushed over the text. Well, technically it wasn't his own fault and apparently also not the girl's fault.

But there must've been a reason. If love was a part of biology, brain chemistry, there had to be some logical factor.

"What are you reading?"

When Theo heard Y/n's voice right next to him, he immediately closed the book, causing it to make a loud sound.

"You took such a long time I got bored." He replied.

"Don't be so shy," the girl shifted her eyes to the title of the book, "oh, love potions and spells? But we're doing something completely different."

"Really? I couldn't care less, forgot what we were supposed to do." Surely one thing he'd love to do was making out with her on that table.

Y/n put her homework on the table.

"Read it and tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, I just-"

"What's wrong with my text, Nott. I didn't ask how you were doing."

"Right."

Theo took the papers and started reading. The text was written with the most beautiful handwriting he's ever seen. So elegant, so precise.

"How long did it take you to write?" He asked.

"One evening. It was easier than you'd think."

"I think it's extremely easy." He bragged. "Anyway, is that all? Or do you wanna add something?"

"Well, Slughorn thought it's necessary for you to help me. Is there anything you think should be added?"

"Uh, no, it looks fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Fine? Theodore Nott, the perfectionist Slytherin, settles for 'fine'? I expected more from you."

"Look, it's not my homework, it's yours. I don't know why I agreed to help you, but it was pointless."

"You got yourself into this, could've said no."

"What the fuck am I even doing?" Theo asked rather himself than the girl. "I don't need to be helping a mudblood, who cares what grade you'll get." With these words, he stood up.

"Because-" Y/n stuttered. "Because... I've heard your conversation with Slughorn. And you said... that you liked me."

"Me? Liking you?" He snorted with laughter. "What the hell, Granger?"

Tears formed in Y/n's eyes as she watched Theo walk away. Sure, he was mean to her before, this wasn't the first time. But this time was somehow different.

Y/n could swear she heard Theo confessing to Slughorn that he's actually in love with her. It's not possible her brain played tricks on her. Plus Hermione said Theo told her about his feelings for Y/n.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Harry walked onto the astronomy tower. Y/n was supposed to be back a long time ago. Ron and Hermione also wanted to go there, but Harry asked to let him go alone.

Harry knew where Y/n was thanks to the Map. He felt such relief not seeing Nott's name next to hers. She was standing alone, leaning on the banister. There was something in her hand, Harry couldn't see well in the dark, but from the smell he realized it was a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoke." He spoke.

Y/n expected this to happen, she was aware of Harry's feelings towards her. She took one last drag from her cigarette then dropped it on the ground, put it out with her shoe and kicked off the tower.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Y/n asked, smoke leaving through her mouth. "I knew you're gonna look at your silly little map to see where I am."

"We were starting to get worried. Theo is... you know, dangerous. We got scared he would hurt you."

And he did. Theo did hurt Y/n, just not physically.

"Hermione should be here instead. But, let me guess, you told her you'll check up on me."

"Maybe," Harry admitted finally, "do you know why? Because I actually care about you. I've had feelings for you for years. I deserve you, not Nott. I deserve you, because-"

"Because you're the chosen one?" She mocked and paused. "Look, Harry, I like you as a friend. I've never felt anything more than this. I can't change how I see you and I won't pretend otherwise."

He nodded, acceptance settling in. "I get it. I just... I thought if I cared enough, it would make a difference."

"Caring is important, Harry, but it doesn't always lead to the feelings we hope for."

"Whoever you date, just don't date Nott, please."

"I promise I won't. Not after today, I'm over him."

"Care to share what happened?"

"I'll tell you, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Let's go, I've been here too long."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Y/n didn't even know how wrong she was that night on the astronomy tower, but she forgot about it. Weeks went by, Christmas had passed, everyone were back from the break. Classes started again and Y/n found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of Theo.

They kept exchanging glances on the corridors, accidentally bumping into each other in the crowds. Y/n wanted to believe Theo liked her, but even if he did, they could never work.

"Y/n, listen to me," he said, catching her when she was alone in the library one time. "I know how things have been between us, but during the break I... I realized I don't wanna keep being enemies."

"Theo, you know it could never work. You said what you said and maybe it's better to leave it this way."

"I contemplated a lot," it was true, he spent the break mostly in his room, drowning in thoughts. About her, about them, coming to terms with what he was feeling. "I decided to accept my feelings."

"That's great for you, but we could never work. I've always 'fancied' you, I guess, despite what you were doing, ironically, but the time we worked on my project together, I accepted we could never work."

"And why's that?"

Y/n took a deep breath, wondering if he was stupid or just pretending. Maybe it was a bet he had with someone. Maybe Draco dared him to do this.

"You don't see how different we are? What do you expect is gonna happen? Would you introduce me to your father? Wouldn't you care that I'd get you disowned?"

Theo looked at her, Y/n could see sadness in his eyes. She realized her words made him realize the differences between them, because he walked away. Theo walked away without a word.

Y/n pierced her own heart with an invisible knife. She was really hoping they could work, but it just wasn't possible in this universe. Maybe there was a universe where none of this purity bullshit didn't exist. Y/n wished she would've been born there.

Y/n couldn't predict what Theo was going to do. She thought her words made him give up on her. It was for the best, of course, she should've focused on her studies firstly, and then on a realistic relationship.

It was a Friday. Y/n was sitting next to Ginny by the Gryffindor table. It was dinner time, all the students gathered in the Great Hall. All the students besides one Slytherin, the one that Y/n hoped to see. Maybe it was weird, but she enjoyed the sad looks they'd pass to each other.

"Hey, Y/n, are you listening?" Hermione asked from across the table.

"Sure," Y/n quickly shifted her eyes to her sister. "You were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You've got divided attention. Stop looking at the Slytherin table."

"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "were you doing this again? Merlin, you stare at this Slytherin git 90% of the time."

"Well, he isn't here today. I wonder where he could be. Everyone else is here."

"There he is," Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes.

The golden trio and two younger Gryffindors looked at the doors' direction. Theo had just walked into the Great Hall, but surprisingly he didn't walk towards his table. He walked towards Y/n.

"Y/n," he spoke, catching everyone's attention. People were reading to witness another argument. "I can't help this, I love you."

Shocked noises came from all the tables, but Slytherins kept whispering between each other also when Theo continued talking.

"I don't care what anyone says, anyone thinks. Love is not meant to be controlled, it kills me to fight it."

Y/n stood up from the table, ready to leave the room.

"Theo, stop," she begged, "you're embarrassing us both. Your friends will-"

"I don't care what they do. If they don't accept it, they're not my friends. If anyone wants to fight me for having feelings for a muggleborn, I can fight, I've never lost a duel."

The whole Great Hall fell silent, even the teachers didn't try to intervene, when they saw Theo pulling out a small, black velvet box.

"I want you to wear this ring," he opened the box, "as my promise to always protect you from whoever tries to harm you or our relationship."

"It's beautiful, but..." Y/n was speechless by the sight of the ring. It was silver with two gemstones forming a subtle heart - half emerald and half ruby.

"It was custom made and if you accept it, I'll once get you a matching engagement ring. Also, there are thorns which will hurt you when you try taking it off. I want you forever, Y/n Granger."

The ring in the black velvet box sparkled under the enchanted ceiling. The Great Hall remained in silence as Theo poured his heart out, confessing his love. The unexpected turn of events had everyone on edge.

Slytherins exchanged intrigued glances, Gryffindors shared confused looks and even the teachers seemed to not know how to react. Y/n could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, and for a moment, she considered the potential consequences of accepting Theo's proposal.

"Theo," she began, her voice breaking, "it's not that simple."

"I know it is. But I can't keep hiding my feelings, Y/n. I've tried, and it's tearing me apart. I'll protect you from whatever comes our way."

Y/n looked at the ring, then back at him. "I believe in second chances. And I appreciate your sincerity. I accept the ring, Theo."

Theo carefully took the ring from the box and gently slid it onto Y/n's finger. The Great Hall burst with cheering and applause, only the Slytherin table didn't seem so enthusiastic about this.

Theo placed his hands on Y/n's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, her hands sinking in his dense her yet the ring on her finger still visible, reflecting the light from the ceiling.

[brokenmenswhore]

betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

part 2

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: slightly violent aegon?, angst (from jace & aegon)

a/n: thank you for the ridiculous amount of support on part 1??? i think it’s my best stuff yet so thank you sm. a few people have commented/dm’d to be added to a taglist, so let me know if you’re interested in that!

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

It was three days of solitude before anyone had visited your chambers. Guards stood outside your door day and night, ensuring you remained in place, and the window was much too high to jump without injury, potentially death.

The door had only opened for a particularly selected group of handmaidens who were tasked with bringing you meals and libations. You stared at the fireplace, not even bothering to turn your head when you heard the familiar noise like clockwork.

“We are to begin wedding preparations in the morrow,” Aemond spoke.

The voice was unexpected. You shifted in your chair until you were twisted enough to see him. He had left you in here for three days, alone, bored, and for what? You had tried everything to find a way to escape, but every inch of your chamber’s portion of the Red Keep was watched constantly, and there was not much in the room with you.

“You bore me,” you hissed, “even after three days with no one speak to, you manage to find a way to expunge any chance of titillating conversation with one single line.”

Aemond sighed and bowed his head, his hands clasped behind his back. “I ask you to please make this less difficult, My Lady.”

“You do not have the right to call me My Lady,” you said, standing up and walking over to him, “you have imprisoned me. You seem too noble to do such a thing to someone you think a lady.”

Aemond’s nostrils flared in frustration. A portion of his hair fell from behind his ear, landing in front of his face as he dipped his head even further. “My apologies.”

You did not expect him to say such a thing. “You think yourself sorry?” you asked.

“Despite your preconceived notions,” Aemond started, lifting his head back up to look at you, “I do not wish to offend you.”

Without wasting a single second, you responded, “then allow me to take leave from this room.”

“No.”

“And why not?” you protested.

“Please, Miss Stark, do not make this more difficult than is necessary.” He was growing tired of your quick wit and temperament. He did not think you would be such work.

You scoffed. “My most impactful talent is making everything more difficult than necessary, My Prince. Tell me what I have to do to persuade you to let me out of this room.”

“I am under strict orders from The King to ensure you maintain your position,” he told you.

“I thought the fearsome Aemond Targaryen would not allow his manhood to be squandered by his own brother,” you said, “but I see I was mistaken.”

“Despite your attempt to poison me against him, he is my brother, and he is the King. I will remain loyal to his cause.”

“As your wife, I would hope you remain loyal to me.”

“You are not my wife yet.”

“So do not force me to be,” you said, ending the conversation and walking back to the fireplace, taking your all-too-familiar seat.

“You give up too easy, Miss Stark,” Aemond spoke, clearly unsatisfied with the conclusion to your conversation.

“I do not give up, My Prince,” you responded, “I am simply tired of the sound of your voice.”

Aemond sighed. He understood why you were so cold toward him- he had begun to burn your home, he had forced your hand in a betrothal orchestrated by his brother, and now you were secluded to guest chambers for three days with no explanation.

“My brother fears for your safety, if you were to take your leave and wander the Keep,” Aemond spoke after a moment.

You laughed. You laughed so ridiculously audibly that Aemond did not have to question if it was genuine. “You expect me to believe that The King has any concerns for my safety? I am in here because he fears me, that much I know. I only wish to know when he intends to let me out. I cannot be quarantined forever.”

“What is it you wish to do with all this freedom you so dearly wish for, hm? You wish to wed your bastard prince?” Aemond retorted, beginning to grow annoyed with your constant protestations.

“And how would I return to Winterfell, or even travel to Dragonstone? I do not ride dragons, Aemond. I cannot sail, I cannot ride horseback- I was never taught to do anything but run. I cannot run all the way back to Winterfell. What do you think me capable of if you let me out? You think me capable of returning home? If it is such, you are not as intelligent as you portray yourself.”

“You cannot ride horseback?”

You were growing angrier and angrier. “That is the portion of my statement that you clung to?”

Aemond felt bad. He did not realize you were never taught things that he assumed were basic- he realized he did not know much about your upbringing. He knew that you and your brother were the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, which means your father must have passed away when you were young, and it seemed as if the man had sheltered you from learning. He sympathized with why you seemed to eager to leave your room.

“I will only let you out with your agreement to an escort,” Aemond spoke, holding his head up high and returning to a proper, formal stance.

“I do not wish to be babysat.”

“You do not have a choice.”

“And who is to escort me?” you asked, “yourself? The King? Will that allow him to keep an even closer eye on my whereabouts? Was locking me in a room and ensuring I cannot leave not enough?”

“I will escort you myself until I know you can be trusted,” Aemond responded.

“I assure you I cannot be.”

“Must you be so combative?”

You shrugged your shoulders casually. “If you think me combative now, a marriage between us would kill you.”

Aemond remained stoic, attempting to calm your temper down with his gentle demeanor. “Where do you wish to go?”

“I wish for you to take me to the Street of Silk.”

Aemond was completely bewildered. That was perhaps the last place he anticipated- what could you possibly want there?

“I will take you no such place.”

“You agreed to let me out on the only condition of an escort just moments ago,” you fought, “you cannot retract your word, unless your cock is truly as small as they say it is.” It was a low blow, but you were eager and annoyed, and you simply wanted out. You didn’t care if you had to bruise Aemond’s ego to get what you wanted.

“What do you need in the Street of Silk?” he questioned, refusing to drop the subject.

“It is no business of yours.”

Aemond contemplated his options, an idea popping into his brain. “If I do this, you will agree to acknowledge our betrothal and renounce your betrothal to my nephew.”

“Then you will allow me to inform him via raven myself. And you will not intrude on the contents of my writings.”

“You truly believe yourself to be in a position of negotiation?”

“And you will not intrude on the contents of my writings,” you repeated, drawing his attention back to responding to you.

You exchanged an intense glance, searching each other’s eyes for any signs of weakness that the other could exploit. You stood your ground, just as he stood his.

“It is too risky to allow you access to ravens without allowing anyone to read what you intend to send,” Aemond tried to level with you.

You stood up to him, getting directly in his face. “You will not intrude on the contents of my writings, or you will have to drag me down the aisle, kicking and screaming.”

“You negotiate quite a lot for someone I could easily leave in here to rot,” Aemond fought back.

“I will not beg you, Aemond,” you warned, “but I will ask you to please accept the terms of this deal.”

“Okay,” Aemond finalized, “we have a deal.”

“Then we best get going,” you said, stepping aside and walking away, not bothering to turn around to check that he was following you. The moment you were out of the room, you did not need him, and you did not care if he truly accompanied you. You knew he would, and he did, swiftly catching up to you and walking directly beside you. You desperately wanted to remain in control of the situation, but you were unsure of your current whereabouts, and you did not know your way around.

You and Aemond did not speak. He escorted you out of the Red Keep and through the streets of King’s Landing, denying any guards who attempted to remain by either of your sides. He did not need to clarify when you had arrived at your desired destination, for the sudden abundance of moaning, cups, and nakedness alerted you as such.

“You may tend to your business now,” Aemond said.

“I thought you were hellbent on sticking by my side?” you said, more a question than a statement.

“I must attend to my own personal business,” he told you, “if I am not to inquire upon yours, I should hope you will extend me the same courtesy.”

You nodded your head slightly, but enough for Aemond to notice. “Who is to say that I will not run the second I am out of your sight?”

“Do you wish to be here or not?” Aemond snapped, “meet me back here by dawn, lest you risk not only my brother being alerted of your empty chambers, but your freedom ceased entirely.”

“Fine,” you replied, “go on, then.”

Aemond gave you a nod, turning away from you and entering a brothel a few doors down, walking through the street as if the path to the specific place was second nature. You looked around, attempting to decide on a building, when you realized you could have just followed Aemond.

When you entered the whorehouse, you were taken aback by how different it was from that of Winterfell. There were seldom any candles, the rooms remaining dimly lit. A woman sat behind a bar, tending to the cups of the men who were not exploring their own pleasure. You approached the bar with confidence, seating yourself.

“Rare I see a lady who doesn’t work for me in here,” the woman spoke, “what will you have?”

“Employment, if possible,” you answered, “under certain terms, of course.”

The woman chuckled. “And what makes you worthy of employment?”

You looked around the vicinity, ensuring that no one around could hear your next words as you leaned over the bar. “Give me 10 minutes with any of your most valued customers, and I guarantee you they will speak well on my behalf.”

The woman smiled. “You got a name?”

“Not when I am here.”

“I don’t do none of that,” she responded, “even if my customers don’t, I am to know the names of those I employ.”

You leaned even further over the bar, lowering your voice to an almost-whisper. “I am a Stark, ma’am. That makes my cunt worth more than anyone in here put together.” You didn’t mean the words, not believing in placing a value on women, but you knew it would strike a chord with her.

She looked at you in admiration and confusion. “What would a Stark be doing in King’s Landing, asking the likes of me for employment?”

“That is her business alone,” you replied, “but she is here, and she is ready to work.”

Her smile widened, her expression changing from uncertainty and skepticism to acceptance. “I’ve been looking for a headstrong girl like you,” she told you, “what are the terms you speak of?”

“I wish for you to be the only one who knows my true name. I do not wish to be a Stark when I am here,” you began, “and I intend to only satisfy the clients who not only satisfy my desires in return, but who do not question me on my house. If one may recognize me, I wish for you to keep them from me.”

“Ah, you want selective clientele?” she clarified, “I only do that in special cases. Some of these girls have been here for ages without such a privilege. If you fuck in my whorehouse, you fuck under my rules.”

“I will give you larger portion of my earnings than your other girls do, should it ensure that my ‘selective clientele’ remain truly selective,” you bargained.

“You would be willing to do such things?” she asked.

“I come to you for employment for myself, not for the coin,” you assured her.

She looked you up and down, top to bottom, assessing every part of your body. “You have yourself a deal.”

She reached her hand over the bar, allowing you meet her hand with your own as you shook briefly, a gesture finalizing the terms of your employment.

✶

Jacaerys,

I am sure my brother has made you aware of the events in Winterfell. Your uncle threatened to burn my home, and when he proved good on his word, I had no choice but to appease him.

I am not sure what news you will receive in Dragonstone, but Aemond and I have come to an agreement that I will renounce our betrothal and acknowledge a betrothal to him. It is imperative that he believe me good on my word.

I wish for you to know that my words hold no true meaning. I will discover an escape from your uncle, and I intend to return home to wed you. I hope you will still have me. Please do not believe any word that is not mine.

You sent the raven first thing in the morning, Aemond assuring you could trust his word that he would not read or alter its contents. Something about the way he carried himself had you believing him, despite your better judgement.

Jacaerys was furious when he received the letter, storming off to the council room to confront his mother.

“They have kidnapped her!” he yelled, slamming his fist on the table as soon as he approached it, “they have kidnapped my betrothed and intend to force her hand to Aemond. Should we not act?”

His mother sighed. “We cannot afford to act on such a minute thing.”

Jace looked at her in confusion, turning to scan the faces of everyone else present, growing even more confused when they met him with pitiful stares. “How is this minute? I am your heir, and this is my betrothed they are exploiting. This is your future queen!”

“When dragons fight, everything burns,” Rhaenyra spoke, tone never breaking, “we cannot risk such a catastrophe over someone who is not even a Targaryen.”

Jace was livid, his face turning red with anger. “If we allow them to do this, we lose our allies in the North.”

“We do not need them, should Daemon be successful in his ventures in Harrenhaal.”

“How could you possibly be so blind?” Jace asked, no longer holding back, “we need the North, mother. I cannot fathom how you could disregard my future bride in this way.”

Rhaenyra sighed, “should Lady Stark wed Aemond, you may marry Baela, Jacaerys. ‘Tis not the end of the world.”

Jacaerys realized that it was impossible to win this argument. He slammed his fists on the table once more before storming off to his chambers, dropping onto a chair and placing his head in his hands.

He missed you. It was almost the date you two were to wed, and he was growing affectionate toward you, as you were with him. He was thrilled to receive correspondence from you, but the contents of the letter only added to his misery. He understood the position you were in, and he appreciated that you had no true intentions of wedding anyone but him, but he knew his uncle. If Aemond wanted her, and she was with him, Aemond would find a way to take her.

He was worried for you. He knew exactly who his uncle Aegon was, and though you could take care of yourself, you never had to do as such around Aegon. Aegon was forceful and cruel, and Jacaerys feared for what he may do to you because you could take care of yourself. Aegon did not take well to women who did not succumb to his will.

“Jace?” Rhaena said, opening the doors to his chambers slowly, afraid to overstep and upset him further.

“Rhaena, hey,” Jace said, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, “what is it?”

“Are you okay?” Rhaena asked, approaching the fireplace and taking the seat next to him.

Jacaerys controlled his breathing, forcing himself to cease crying. “I am just frustrated is all.”

Rhaena gave Jace a pitiful smile. “You quite fancy her, this Miss Stark?”

Jacaerys let out a small chuckle. “Yes, I believe I quite do.”

“If she is all you speak that she is, she will be just fine,” Rhaena assured him, “if she can handle Aemond, she can handle anyone.”

“It is not Aemond I worry of.”

Rhaena sighed. Aemond was noble and his first priority was duty. He remained loyal to those he believed worthy of his loyalty, and despite how cruel he could be with a blade or with Vhagar, he would never hurt anyone for his own enjoyment. Aegon, on the other hand, spilled blood for the hell of it, and had nothing and no one who could calm him down when his fuse blew. He was ruthless, mean, and as king, he was capable of taking whatever he wanted, and burning anything he didn’t.

“I cannot see why Aegon would have any reason to bother her. They have taken her there for Aemond, after all.”

“Have you forgotten who Aegon is?” Jacaerys said, tears threatening to spill again, “he does not do well with those who do not show him favor. I fear for her safety.”

“She will return to you, Jacaerys, she wrote it so herself,” Rhaena said, attempting to remind Jacaerys of her written promises in an effort to calm him down.

Jacaerys took hold of Rhaena’s hand, showing his friend appreciation for her council, as his breathing calmed down and he watched the fire dance.

✶

“You let her send a raven to Dragonstone?” Aegon questioned, turning to Aemond in a fury, “tell me you read it, brother. Tell me you did not allow her to perpetuate this war by promising herself to Jacaerys again. Tell me you were not so stupid.”

“We have come to an understanding,” Aemond tried to explain, “and access to one raven was part of such.”

“You idiot,” Aegon sighed, walking away from his brother and pouring himself a drink.

“She remains here, with us. I do not see the issue. Regardless of her writings, our nephew does not have the confidence to dare try to enter King’s Landing. She has given me her word that she will acknowledge our betrothal.”

Aegon lifted his head up, cup in hand, as he turned back to Aemond. He lifted the cup toward Aemond’s chest, a finger pointed out, asking, “where were you last night, dear brother?”

“I know not of what you ask of me,” Aemond responded.

“You see,” Aegon started, taking a sip from his cup, “one of the large perks of being King, is that I may employ who I choose in such positions such as the King’s Guard. Quite nice having friends around, really. Only, just this morn, I was informed that you had not only visited our captive, but you let her out until sunrise.”

“That is quite the story,” is all Aemond said, monotone, his facial expressions remaining stoic so as not to give anything away.

“What reason would my King’s Guard have to lie?”

Aemond stepped closer to his brother. He would have been in Aegon’s face if they were the same height, but instead, he looked down upon his brother. “That is a question for them, brother. I know not of what lies they tell you.”

Aegon nodded. He always praised his brother for his loyalty to the crown, and to his family, and Aegon was almost incapable of believing that Aemond would ever betray his trust, especially if only based on the word of his friends.

“I wish to speak to her,” Aegon said, returning to a casual state, “will you inform her as such?”

Aemond nodded. “I will return shortly with her.”

Aemond went directly to your chambers, swinging the door open with carelessness to whatever your current state may be. Luckily enough for you, you were simply watching the fire.

“The King requests an audience with you.”

“He knows about the raven, does he?”

“Please, Miss Stark, I am here to accompany you to the throne room.”

You sighed, “I do not wish to go to the throne room.”

“He is the King,” Aemond reminded you, “you do not have a choice.”

“I always have a choice,” you responded, “I refuse to live without one. If your brother wishes to speak with me, he may either come to me himself, or he may let me out of this dreadful apartment permanently. You may tell him as much.”

Aemond did not try to convince you to accompany him- he knew you well enough to know it would be useless. He walked back to the throne room, alone, much to his brother’s dismay.

Aegon did not speak, but threw his hands up in exasperation. “She refuses to come,” Aemond spoke plainly.

“Tell her she does not have a choice.”

“I did,” Aemond began, “but she refuses to not have a choice. She says you may go to her if you wish to speak to her.”

“She did, did she?” Aegon said, amused and frustrated. “Very well, then.”

Aegon stood from the throne, walking past Aemond as he moved toward your chambers, Aemond close behind him.

He also had no regard to knock or announce his arrival, swinging the door open. “Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”

“What do you want?” you asked, standing and facing him.

“Well, for starters, I want you address your King properly.”

You did not speak. You did not move. You simply just stared at him, unwavering in your stubbornness.

“Leave us, Aemond,” Aegon commanded. Aemond wanted to protest, but he looked into Aegon’s eyes, and knew it would be in everyone’s best interest to depart.

You folded your arms across your chest as you stared at him, refusing to speak to him until he made conversation worthwhile.

“My guards tell me you had quite the escapade last night with my brother,” he said.

“How am I to have ‘had quite the escapade’ when you quarantine me to this cell?”

“Aemond let you free, did he not?”

You scoffed. “Aemond is holding me prisoner just as much as you are.”

“Now, what did I do to deserve such combative spite from you?” he teased, “is this room alone not nicer than the entire kingdom of Winterfell?”

“Winterfell is my home, and you instructed your brother to burn it down if I did not accompany him back here,” you reminded him, “you are a coward. If you want an allegiance with the North, are you not capable of orchestrating such a thing yourself?”

Aegon tsked, stepping closer to you, “but you’re so much more fun.”

“Let me out of this room.”

“No.”

“Let me out of this room, Aegon.”

Aegon swiped his arm across the drinks table, knocking everything to the ground with a dramatic clash, glass breaking and shooting across the floor.

“Address me by my title!” he bellowed.

“You are but a whiny little baby,” you spoke, no sense of fear in your voice whatsoever.

Aegon took a deep breath, unable to hold back his rage. “Don’t you dare speak to me like this. I could have you hanged.”

“Hanging would be great relief from this conversation.”

Aegon was growing more and more furious by the second. He got in your face, spitting, “you are nothing. You are simply just a pawn in my game. I pity my brother for having to put up with you.”

“As you should,” you replied, “so long as you hold me hostage, I shall make you pity your own existence.”

Aegon’s face was turning red, his breathing quickening in anger the more you spoke. His fingers were curling and uncurling into fists, completely unsure of what could be an outlet for all this rage. He was mad, mostly at your stubbornness, but he did not want to seem irrational.

One of his hands moved upwards to grip your throat, pushing you back against a wall and holding your neck in place.

He kept his face close to yours for a moment, the hand around your throat squeezing enough to hold you in place, but not enough to obstruct your breathing entirely. “I’m going to make your life hell.”

“My life is already hell,” you spat back, breathing the best you could, “I am forced to spend it with the likes of you and your family.”

Aegon searched your eyes for any sense of fear or worry, but he found none. You were more stubborn than he realized, refusing to allow him any true control over you. Even with a hand around your throat, and his body pressed to yours, you refused to show any signs of weakness.

“I could make you a whore, you know,” he nearly whispered, “you think yourself so strong? What will you do when I have you trapped beneath me, using you for my own pleasure? Will you be so headstrong then?”

You did not dignify his words with a response. You, instead, decided to add insult to injury, spitting in his face. His hand immediately left your throat as he used his shirtsleeve to wipe off your spit from his face, taking a moment to process what just happened before his rage grew even more.

“That was a mistake,” he spoke, low.

“Kidnapping me was the mistake, Your Grace,” forcing evident sarcasm on your last two words so that Aegon knew you did not mean them. You were patronizing him.

“I’ll have you thrown in the dungeon with the rest of the scum.”

“I am already imprisoned, I do not care if you decide to change the scenery.”

Aegon was more frustrated than ever. He could not seem to find an insult that would strike a chord with you. He did not know how to weaken you, and that killed him.

“I’ll fuck you into submission like the whore they say you are,” Aegon hissed.

“If I am the whore they say I am, I dare say myself capable of fucking you into submission should you try anything, and then you would only be weaker.”

Aegon screamed. He didn’t scream a word or a threat, but a genuine outlet of frustration and pent up anger, before commanding, “bend the knee and renounce the False Queen. Now.”

“No.”

“Get. On. Your. Knees.”

“No.”

You did not think Aegon capable of surprising you, but in the next moments, he did just that. His rage was overtaking him, causing him to lose control over his emotions as they heightened and heightened, and he began to cry. His tone remained angry, his face still red hot, but tears began to fall.

“Renounce Rhaenyra,” he pleaded.

“No,” you maintained.

He was having trouble catching his breath, but you remained still, an immovable object he could not knock down. He began to take in sharp, quick breaths as he tried to calm himself down, but he was unable. He plopped down on one of the fireplace chairs, unable to remain standing, for he felt like he could not breathe. He was crying so hard he was nearly dry heaving from the intensity.

“Stop,” you said, trying to keep your voice strong, “this will not wear me down, Aegon, stop.”

He did not turn to you. He could not respond or even think about speaking. He continued to break down in the chair, his mask of strength slipping away, and he could do nothing to stop it, his emotions completely intruding in on and overwhelming his senses.

“Aegon, relax.” You did not want to comfort him. You loathed him. The longer he was in hysterics, the more you realized it was not a game, but you desperately tried to stop yourself from being kind to him in any way. After all, he had not been kind to you whatsoever.

“I- I can’t breathe,” he stuttered out, panic setting into his features. His heart rate was rapid, and his body was becoming weaker and weaker as his heart and his mind raced.

“Yes, you can,” you said, breaking your strength a bit, “focus on calming your breathing down.”

“C- can’t,” he coughed out.

You took a deep breath, knowing you would regret assisting him in any way once he was okay again, but you kneeled in front of him anyway, taking his hands in yours. “Focus on calming your breathing down,” you repeated, meeting his eyes with your own.

His eyes were red and swollen, his entire face wet from the tears and the panic attack. His cheeks were still rosy, having never calmed down from when his hand was around your throat. He looked somewhat beautiful.

Aegon looked at you, staring into your eyes as he tried to catch his breath, watching as you exaggerated your breathing in-and-outs as a model for him to follow. He stayed focused on your breathing, matching his own pace with yours, until he was calmed down, able to breath again, no longer hysterically crying.

When you noticed he had returned, you immediately went to pull your hands away, but he gripped your wrists before you could do so.

He sniffled, all of his strength completely gone, as his broken voice spoke, “thank you.”

You nodded at him, your stubbornness still present, refusing to give him a small smile or speak.

You went to stand and walk away from him, but his grip on your wrists only tightened.

“Let me go, Aegon,” you said.

He didn’t respond, he simply pulled you back toward him until you were standing in front of his seated figure. In a split second, so as not to allow you room to leave, he removed his hands from your wrists and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his head to your stomach as he hugged himself into your body.

You wanted to make a comment about him being weak rather than strong, about how you hated him, about how he owed you leave from your apartment, but words escaped you. In the moment, Aegon was not the cruel, bloodthirsty usurper, but a lonely, scared little boy who was clinging onto the one thing that was currently bringing him comfort.

He stayed in place for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of your body and the comfort of the hug. After several moments, he opened his eyes and pulled away from you, shooting up to stand. You exchanged a glance, but he did not speak, he simply exited the room, leaving you alone and imprisoned once again.

────── ☾ ──────

taglist: @torchbearerkyle @dracaryxzs @hangmanscoming

[ronniaugust]

How To Write Good Dialogue (Part 1)

I'm gonna start this by saying I'm not trying to sound like a know-it-all. I am just tired of posts like these being absolutely fucking useless. I am aware this is basically me screaming into a void and I’m more than okay with that.

This guide is meant for intermediate screenwriters, but beginners are also absolutely welcome. :)

(about me)

-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-

I've noticed a rise in film students who want to make films that have no dialogue. Probably after your professor showed you Doodlebug, right? Fuck that.

I'll make another post about writing a short film, but all you need to know is: Don't waste the audience’s time. Most of these no-dialogue shorts have very little substance and take way too long to tell the shortest possible story. Not a good idea.

Useless Dialogue

Plain and simple, don't write useless dialogue. Useless dialogue is dialogue that just doesn't fucking matter. Dialogue matters by having ✨subtext.✨

What is subtext? Subtext is the meaning behind the action. That's it.

If I tell you that I love you and I got big doe eyes while I say it, it means I love you. If I tell you I love you through a clenched jaw without looking at you, I don't necessarily love you right now.

Simple, right? Great.

Now think about the subtext behind every line. Does your character mean what they're saying? Are they doing it to get what they want? What is going through their mind as they say it? As long as you know your character, you’ll have these answers ready to go. If you don’t, you’ll figure it out eventually. Just keep writing.

When you write your character walking into a Starbucks and saying, "One venti iced coffee," does that do something? Why do I need to see someone's boring Starbucks order? Do I need to know that your character's boring? Why are you writing a boring character? [Of course, in the rare situation where this is some revealing clue to the massive crime investigation, then it makes sense.]

Useless dialogue is any dialogue that has no meaning or purpose in your script. Delete and move on. You don't need to write entire conversations or scenes that bore us, just write what we care about.

I took a class once where my professor called a version of this "trimming the fat." Get us into your scene and out of your scene in as little time as it takes to have it achieve its full purpose in the script.

[P.S. You don’t “inject” subtext into your lines. Idk who started that vernacular in subtext teachings but I hate it.]

Show vs. Tell

I remember a glorious fight I got into with a Redditor last year about show vs. tell… TL;DR: Dialogue is “show” if you write it with intention and subtext. If someone says that dialogue is inherently “tell,” they’re wrong and can go fuck themselves.

Dialogue that is “tell” is expositional dialogue. But, hot take: Exposition isn't just in dialogue. It’s also those annoying clichés that make you roll your eyes in the theater (which we just call clichés and not exposition). I’m sure every professor I’ve had will disagree with this and then get me into a long conversation about it, but let’s ignore that for right now.

Have you ever seen a movie where a character rubs an old, worn-out photo of a young girl while looking depressed? That's exposition. That character has a dead daughter. No shit.

Clichés are incredibly annoying. We all know that. Assume that any cliché you see - in this context - is exposition and try your best not to write it. (Tropes are different and sometimes necessary, so I’m not talking about that.)

Point blank: When you have subtext in your lines, they are "show,” not “tell.”

Before moving on, I'll bring up that while technically the dead daughter photo is subtextual, it is as close to the character saying “My daughter is dead,” as you can get. Don't treat the audience like we're fucking stupid.

The First 15

If you don’t know what the Inciting Incident is, please look up “3 Act Structure” before reading this.

The first 15 pages of your script is the part that comes before the Inciting Incident. This is the part you want to get right because, although people probably won’t leave the theater, they will absolutely find something else on the streaming service they’re using. The people making said movie will also just toss your script in the trash before it’s even produced, so it's best to get it right.

Dialogue in the first 15 generally follows the same rules, but carries a heftier additional rule. All dialogue in the first 15 minutes must, must, must tell us something about your character.

Remember when I talked about that boring Starbucks order? Why is your character boring? Don’t write that. Don’t write nice characters. Or pleasant characters. Or friendly characters. No one cares.

You want empathy. This does not mean “relatable.” It means “empathetic.” There is a difference.

I personally relate to Vi in Arcane, but I empathize with Theo in Children of Men. Both are excellent, but one personally resonates a bit more with me. You cannot write a character that deeply resonates with every single person, it is impossible.

With each line of dialogue, you must be saying something about your character that generates the empathy. Instead of telling you how to do this, I’ll direct you to a movie that will do better than an explanation: Casablanca.

Watch how Rick interacts with the world. What kind of man is Rick? Watch what he does, what he says, and how he treats people and himself. Watch that empty glass on the table. Watch his contradictions. Everything. Those things matter and it’s what makes you want to watch Rick for the entire duration of Casablanca.

“Realism”

This is maybe more directorial, but make your characters human enough, not too human.

Too human is when you’ve tried your best to capture all those little life-like speech patterns. You know, the ones that no one fucking cares about.

If your character coughs, they’re sick. If they clear they’re throat, they’re uncomfortable. If a bruise isn’t going away, they’re going to die. Simple.

Every moment on screen matters. Everything the audience sees is meant to lead them to a conclusion. Not the conclusion, just a conclusion.

The realism you want is in the choices your character makes, not how many times they say “Uh,” in a sentence.

Conclusion

Dialogue matters and should not be treated lightly or without care. Once you have this all engrained in your mind, dialogue should become effortless.

If you want an excellent way to think about this, Robert McKee's Story has an excellent chapter that helped clarify this all for me. Here's an excerpt and the context.

Warning, spoilers for Chinatown.

"If I were Gittes at this moment, what would I do?"

Letting your imagination roam, the answer comes:

"Rehearse. I always rehearse in my head before taking on life's big confrontations."

Now work deeper into Gittes's emotions and psyche:

Hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, thoughts racing: "She killed him, then used me. She lied to me, came on to me. Man, I fell for her. My guts are in a knot, but I'll be cool. I'll stroll to the door, step in and accuse her. She lies. I send for the cops. She plays innocent, a few tears. But I stay ice cold, show her Mulwray's glasses, then lay out how she did it, step by step, as if I was there. She con-fesses. I turn her over to Escobar; I'm off the hook."

EXT. BUNGALOW-SANTA MONICA

Gittes' car speeds into the driveway.

You continue working from inside Gittes' pov, thinking:

"I'll be cool, I'll be cool ..." Suddenly, with the sight of her house, an image of Evelyn flashes in your imagination. A rush of anger. A gap cracks open between your cool resolve and your fury.

The Buick SCREECHES to a halt. Gittes jumps out.

"To hell with her!"

Gittes SLAMS the car door and bolts up the steps.

Story by Robert McKee, pg 156

The context of this page is McKee's way of explaining how to write characters. I found it very helpful.

-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-

Thanks for reading! I probably forgot something, so I made this a “part 1.”

I hope this helps someone since I’m really tired of finding short films on YouTube that are all fucking silent. The few who have done it well have been copied to death, so please write some dialogue. I promise you it’s so much better if you do.

Asks are open! :)

[k-s-morgan]

TGSTLTH related

Ok so I decided to do it here cuz I don't know will AO3 allow me to write essay hahahahah 😂😂😂

I don't even know how to start this. I've been reading fics for 13 years straight, like I don't remember the period of my life where I didn't read them cuz I always have some ship active and I'm crazy BL fan. Only a small number of them can make me crazy to the point I don't wanna sleep, eat, skipping my obligations, killing the pain and your sebaciel did everything. I haven't felt like this reading fic..,maybe ever? This is totally another level of me being fascinated by some writer.

I adore sebaciel, I'm in fandom since 2016 but the biggest problem I had with their fics is that - either people go too much OOC with them orr they rush up the things between them, going quickly with sex and feelings. It bothered me so much so I was crawling for good SC fics as crazy!!

After some break with SC, I came back to ao3 and saw your long fic. I started reading it but I dropped it after 3 chapters, I got bored cuz I thought you are gonna just re-type manga and do classic thing which another people do. Quickly, I got disappointed with another one and idk how but I decided to give your fic one more chance and dear lord......that was one of the best thing I have ever read. Maybe even the best.

Like, how smart are you? What's your IQ? Your manage to explain me some things about Kuro plot which I haven't udnerstand by myself. And the way you write Sebaciel relationship. That's everything I have ever wanted. Everything. They have normal conversation and that's it, that's all I need cuz there is everything. I feel electric every time when they talk, fight, do things together, goood the little touches svbjhsdjvbvbvbvbvbsdjvhbdf. I was tense whole fic. I read it for like 10 days, abandon everything until I finished it and now I feel sad ahahhaahha. But you are really something special, cuz I always used to say that manga itself is the best fiction cuz Yana knows the best how to create good Sebaciel energy. You, next to Yana, did the best job. You kept them as they are, never broke the character, and that's what I am most grateful. Slow burn, with drama and angst, love and attention, all misunderstanding, you put all necessary spices for 5 star meal. My fav part is when Ciel told Sebastian to add slamming doors to his most dramatic moments of his life ahahahahahahhaha 😂😂 I laughed like crazy, they are so precious♥ And I really wanted kiss to happen when Ciel lied Sebastian about another demon, that was sooo svbjhsvjhjhvbdf. But okay, you know the best, I trust you fully with this♥

The fact that they are ready to kill each other before they have normal conversation about their feeling is my fetish. I am in love with toxic things. Ciel ready to throw all game just to prove Sebastian that his value is not only his soul, right after he told himself for 1000 times he needs to stay on distance..... I LOVE ITTTT!!! I also need to say that you find PERFECT balance for good plot and romance. Your games and their cases...I just don't know, deep bow for you queen🔥💯After all, you didn't retype drama ahahaha but you manage to keep it canon without changing anything but still adding your spices so it's not ordinary Kuro plot we see every day....

I just have one question. From time to time, I was like a Bard ahahhaha, so sick of their games and my head hurting me, but on a good way. I am clear about Ciel but what about Sebastian and his disgust for Ciel's nicer, soft, emotional side? I know Ciel doesn't have it a lot, but would Sebastian still be grossed out about it as he was at the beginning of a contract or not? Keeping in mind that he is more and more obsessed with a boy?

So, that's all. I don't know how to use Patreon/PayPal, but for you I'll try cuz I only have credit card and that's all I know ahhahaha, I like to keep money in my hands😂 I'm sad about the situation in your country and all under - war countries. It's not bringing any good for anyone, specially for civilians. I hope you are okay and I wish you alll the best, the good karma must hit you really quickly cuz you made one person really, really happy here♥

Looking forward how will you finish this story, have a nice day❤

PS - this is the longest comment for fic I have ever left ahhaha, it's crazy how you got me sooo hyped up bjcvsdghvbds.

Hi! Ooh, thank you so much for your amazing, wonderful essay! I can't tell you how happy it made me! I think the electricity was already started being cut off when I got it, so I could see I have some really lengthy ask, but it wouldn't load. It was the torture of the most delicious kind :D

Like you, I've been reading fics for ages now, and the moments where I find some fantastic story that won't let me sleep or work or even blink are always the happiest and the brightest spots I remember. So it's extremely flattering to know that my story has become something similar to other people.

I love writing about smart characters, but most of them are definitely smarter than me! The benefit is that since I'm writing, I can think and plan everything in advance. In real life, I only wish I were as quick-witted and inventive. Alas, the best ideas and arguments come to me when they are no longer needed.

I love slow burns, and I love characters who abhor the idea of expressing their feelings, so Ciel and Sebastian have the most perfect dynamic in my eyes. I feel like I could spend the eternity just enjoying their Gothic world with their games, arguments, plots, and so on. Them antagonizing each other only to instantly team up against the common enemy is my most favorite thing in the world.

As for your question, right now, Sebastian would be thrilled if Ciel were to show a softer and more vulnerable side - at least in relation to him. Well, a part of him would feel the automatic need to mock him for it anyway, some habits don't die easily, but Sebastian's feelings have evolved a lot, plus Ciel is cold more often than he is not. So Sebastian treasures every word of praise, every hint of appreciation and need because they are so rare - he's come to crave them, and he has memorized all known cases of them by heart.

And no worries about supporting me! I really appreciate you taking your time to leave such a fantastic review, it made my day!

[batw1nggg]

this is just me being silly but im making a script for an essay video analyzing all of nagito's songs because i realized a lot of people dont even know about all of them especially poison i have absolute hope birthday and remaining cherry blossoms practically finished but i have no idea where to start with what poison is about lmao

if u do end up recording the essay PLZZZ LINK !!! i would love to see !!!!

ok so i’ll only be able to give a very surface level analyzation because i don’t know japanese and translations between eng and jp are always sort of janky, i might get some things wrong or miss some nuances (if anyone knows some japanese and wants to chime in please please do!!). but i can definitely give u the basic gist of it. translation taken from the danganronpa fandom wiki page. ok here we go

so the song takes place when komaeda kills himself (“I believe that hope / And will offer my pulsating heart / For the sake of that brilliance / I’ll tear apart my chest / Until the very last drop / Trickles down and wets my lips”, “I am merely watching over you”).

To me it seems like a summary of his thought process — he mentions wanting to “meet the biggest hope” (the hope that will overcome the despair of and end the killing game), how he has “no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring” (his thoughts on talentless people). those parts of the song are just outlining the basics of his worldview.

but, because this song is about komaeda’s death, it’s also inextricably tied to hinata. we see this most explicitly with the line “I love, and want to understand / him more than anyone else”. a main theme of komahina is their desire to understand each other.

That’s the really obvious hinata reference, but he also seems to be referenced more subtly throughout:

- “I have no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring / What meaning is there to words that will neither be deadly poison nor cure?” this is komaeda talking about how he thinks talentless people are boring, they’re neither shining hope (like the ultimates) nor crushing despair (like junko) and are just pawns in the game; but also, who exactly was it that chose to be neither deadly poison (despair) or cure (hope)? to create an ending separate of hope and despair altogether, to create a new choice, to focus on the future? komaeda’s asking what meaning there is to anything that is neither pure hope nor pure despair — anything that is not necessary to the cycle of hope and despair. hinata will go on to give him the answer.

- “When drinking poison poured into a glass will you drink it immediately or throw it away?” this one seems vague but I’m inclined to believe it’s about hinata because it’s followed by “I am merely watching over you / to whom the last choice is given”. the “whom” is very obviously hinata, he’s the one that makes the choice to wake up and then inspires everyone else to choose the same. that former lyric about the poison seems to be a fancy way of komaeda asking whether or not hinata will give into the despair of finding out the truth (drinking the poison) or decide to keep going despite it (throwing it away). he’s watching over hinata in death, entrusting hinata with that decision.

hinata being a core part of this song really speaks to how much trust komaeda was putting into hinata in chapters 5 and 6. i’ve already made a post or two about how komaeda’s faith in hinata to solve trial 5 and survive trial 6 was an integral factor in the game’s ending. komaeda can’t talk about his death without hinata being part of the conversation; hinata is the only one who’s ever tried to understand him instead of completely writing him off as insane, he’s a big part of komaeda’s life. we see at the end of the komaeda pov manga that hinata was komaedas last thought before death.

so yeah. to summarize: the song is about chapter 5. komaeda talks about his worldview, talks about how his worldview and faith in hope led to his sacrifice, and talks about his faith in hinata.

[just-orbiting-you]

JK is very vague about things. YES. We can all agree. But he is also sometimes direct. He literally started up a live watching Jimin content, saying he misses him and he gets Jimin with him and he says he misses members. This is typical JK to me. Its giving I go to his room, cause I'm bored. When he could just say I go to his room cause I like him and like spending time with him. I always compare this to someone who has a crush. I am not saying has one, but its like you and your friend see a cute person and you tell your friend he/she is cute and your friend decides to be chaotic and yells out, my friend thinks you're cute. That flight or fight response is gonna kick in. Do you own it and say Yeah I said it or do you get embarrassed and stay quiet or say I didn't say that and hit your friend. Most of the times, it the second option cause people don't like to be exposed and put on the spot and I feel like JK is this person when he starts to feel exposed with Jimin, cause he knows we see his relationship with Jimin is different.

I also wanna talk about him saying he misses members. This is in Sapporo. Their last days before enlisting and JK knows he is going with Jimin for 2 years at this point. It makes sense for him to have these feelings and this is not out of the normal for him, when we see him say he misses his members, when he's performing alone or in his solo camping vlog episode. And even tho Jimin is teasing him, we know good and well Jimin feels the same way. At this point Jikook were spending a lot of time together & already knew they were going and they only had days left. And Jimin is in his same shoes. He too won't be seeing them either. So Jimin might tease him, but he understands more then anyone how Jk feels. People need to not let tkk get in their heads nor be upset cause JK misses people he is about to have to say good bye too.

Like someone said. Jk left his members, his dog, his family, his friends, his career, but he couldn't leave Jimin. People need to not be upset cause he will miss them people. That is so wrong to hate on him for that.

this is in response to my last anon ask, which i think i sort of misread. i think the overall point is not "jungkook says things that could be used to attack jimin" but rather jungkook says things that allow for a debunking of jikook. then in turn antis attack jimin for "lying or twisting the truth", whatever.

I feel like JK is this person when he starts to feel exposed with Jimin, cause he knows we see his relationship with Jimin is different.

i feel similarly. i think when we line up jikook moments, typically jimin says things out loud, while jungkook's actions speak over his words. jungkook is characteristically more shy across bts' history, of course he's grown up and has become more bold. but i think over the course of the past few years jungkook really hasn't been very direct when it comes to jimin, while his actions say otherwise. while he shared a lot of his life last year on live, he wasn't really talking in depth about his life. sometimes he'd come on live to yap a little and be candid, but he's not one to share. jimin is more prone to bringing up jungkook randomly in conversation. and that's okay, they're not the same person. i don't think jungkook's words are enough to bring down the entire ship, when they have such a rich history and jungkook's actions often speak for themselves.

thank you for breaking down the sapporo comment perfectly! context is the most important thing in all jikook conversations and if stan twitter can do one thing, it's post it in isolation and rid itself of the necessary information.

Jk left his members, his dog, his family, his friends, his career, but he couldn't leave Jimin.

again, the actions speak loudest!!!

[bangtaninborderland]

JHS: Twisted Feelings

Summary: After working at an award show for 2 years everything had become normal, idols were no longer exciting to see, performances became dull and every day blended together, that was until an unexpected man asked for your help.

Genre: idolljihope x fem!reader, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, ongoing series

Warning: none for this chapter!

A/N: I i in no way own bts and this is purely a story of fiction! I wanted to specify that this story takes place around the timeline of what would have been the mots 7 era if Corona didn’t happen, I didn’t want to confuse people as I go. I am trying to update as much as possible I find so much joy in this story. This is short but I am planning to update more I just wanted to get through this kind of boring but necessary chapter.

Ch.03 <. Series Masterlist > Ch.05

Thankfully the negotiations didn’t take as long as you had initially thought, a few different company lawyers had come in to review and make any changes necessary to the standard contract Sejin had given you but overall it wasn’t unpleasant.

You had decided that you would translate, whilst providing the members with private lessons if they decided they wanted them. It would be full time and you had agreed to be “on call” 4 days a week. The pay rate was almost triple compared to what you had been receiving at the awards company but then again that was expected. It was more than you had anticipated but it was understandable once you found out their previous translator had made a choice to reduce her hours to focus on her family.

Something you admired.

Sejin had informed you that the boys had been called into a meeting room, one of which you would have to join as it was about you, he instructed you to the room and asked that you wait there whilst he gets you an employee card made.

The members were definitely loud, you could hear them before you had even opened the door to the meeting room, their voices rebounding off one another in what appeared to be a debate over which song was harder to perform. You felt awkward at first, like you was intruding, that was until Hoseok looked towards you a hand beckoning you to sit at the table.

“I’m guessing you took the job if you’re here.” He was talking directly to you but the other members had quietened down - all focused on your conversation.

You have a slight nod. “It appears to be so, I mean it wasn’t a hard decision to make.”

“Well we are happy to have you, we will try and make it as easy as possible. Jungkook and Yoongi would both like to take lessons, we spoke during rehearsal.”

You look towards the mentioned men, you was surprised Yoongi had wanted to accept the lessons, him being more reserved than the others.

“I always want to help in the English interviews more and it frustrates me not being able to understand army when they comment.” Jungkook gave an explanation, one that wasn’t necessary but one that you took thankfully.

You smiled at him, converting wordlessly that you had taken in his comment. It was nice they felt somewhat comfortable with you but in all honesty you was unsure how to respond.

“Maybe we should introduce ourselves a little more?” And just like that you were saved from an awkward silence by none other than Kim Seokjin.

“I’ll go first?” You suggest, taking it as a yes when no one interjects.. “I told Hoseok-ssi previously that I was unsure how good of a teacher I would be. I’m not the most qualified person for this job but I don’t want to look at it in that way, I don’t want to look at this as I am someone who teaches you and works for you, I think when you approach something with that much of a definition it can become stressful and overwhelming. I will do my best to support you through any interviews or meetings where it is necessary and I will always try to be available if any of you have questions or need help with something. I worked translating for years before this and I studied English for a very long time so I hope I can at least use that to help you all.” You finish your personal monologue with a little clap, one that makes you cringe at yourself.

“Does it bother you working with idols? Do you have any experience?” Taehyung was the one to question you, it wasn’t a question that was surprising but the scepticism his voice held was.

“I have worked around idols not directly with them, I’d prefer it If you didn’t refer to people as if they are nothing more than their job titles. I don’t see you as idols I see you as human beings doing your job the same way I will be. I know that in this industry there is a lot of worry about having your privacy breached or information leaked but that isn’t something I would ever do or accept being done. Not because of a contract clause but because everyone deserves a right to privacy and anyone who disregards that is the lowest kind of being.” Your face falls flat, you know it was probably time to shut up but something inside of you secretly wanted this to work.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything.” Taehyung slumps into his seat a little further, no doubt he too was wishing the floor would open up and eat him.

“Are you worried about your security and privacy? A lot of our staff have left because it became too much?” Jimins voice was lighter, he seemed soft.

You shrug your shoulders before shaking your head. “No, I mean in all honesty they could leak my information if they wanted too. I’m pretty sure no one would be interested in my personal activities I’m not the most exciting person.”

“You’re much braver than me.” Hosoek smiles at you, the tension in the room growing thinner as the conversation continues.

Sejin had joined shortly after, informing everyone of your role and the rules of their interactions with you. It was mostly just about the times you’d be working, he had made note that Jungkook and Yoongi wanted to take private lessons alongside Hoseok.

After that Jungkook had excused himself to get refreshments and snacks. Sejin had insisted that you spend time together in the building to get to know one another as it was only a few weeks until their schedules would pick up and you’d be thrust together 24/7, they all seemed happy to have the rest of the day off apart from this mandatory bonding session.

“So how old are you?” Jin asks, reaching to take a packet of honey twists from the snack pile that had been formed upon the table.

“I’m 24 in international age, I’m sorry I don’t know your ages?” You looked around waiting for someone to answer.

“You’re the same age as me and Tae. Jin Hyung is 27 so is Yoongi Hyung, Namjoonie Hyung is 25 and Hoseokie Hyung is 26 , me and Tae are 24 and jungkookie is 22.” It was at this moment you was thankful that you had good memory retention, you’d have to make sure to get a list of their birthdays. Even if you were only a staff member you didn’t want to forget something so important.

“Can I call you Noona?” Jungkook perked up causing a giggle amongst the men, you felt almost sorry for Jungkook until he smiled at you.

“Sure you can.”

“Thanks Noona.” He pops a chip into his mouth before turning the pack around to read the nutritional information.

“You can talk casually with me, I wouldn’t want it to be weird.” Taehyung mumbles, you slightly regret your rant at him earlier. You’d applied to him privately especially when he was trying to make you feel comfortable. “Me too.” Jimin agrees handing you a bottle of water after retrieving one for himself.

“You didn’t think we would want any?” Jin asks, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to take care of your Hyungs.” If you hadn’t already experienced his playfulness you’d be worried but you could see the way both he and Jimin were laughing about the situation.

“Anyone else have any honourific requests before we move on?” You ask uncapping your water bottle.

Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon all shook their heads no. Each of them slowly breaking off into their own groups on the couch in the corner.

You turned your attention to hosoek who had softly called your name. “You can talk to me casually if you’d feel comfortable like that, I wouldn’t want you calling me Hosoek-ssi all day every day.”

“I wouldn’t want to disrespect you.” If it’s one thing your parents had taught you it’s to respect your elders. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiles giving your shoulder a squeeze before looking towards the members. “Wanna join them on the couch?”

You contemplated it for a second, it would be nice to spend more time with them, it was clear from Sejins instructions in just a few weeks you’d be preparing to fly with them for their tour and that would be easier if you knew each other better but their dynamic felt so entwined and it would be a lie to say it didn’t make you feel like an outsiders “I think I should go I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You’re not overstaying anything.” Hoseok was quick to reassure you, his smile warm. “We can always ask the others if you’d feel better knowing their preferences?”

You weighed out the possible embarrassment to any other outcome and decided in this moment it was most likely best to ask so you whispered a quick but hesitant “yes”.

You felt a weight lifting as he stood up calling everyone’s attention. “Hey guys does anyone mind spending more time together?”

An array of “nos” came from everyone, making you feel more welcome.

“See? I knew they would like you.” The comment is smug, proud.

“Oh please them not kicking me out doesn’t constitute to them liking me.” You laugh, his mathematics of the situation not adding up.

He doesn’t seem to mind the joke, it felt nice to have someone other than Na-Rae to joke with.

You talked with him for a few more minuets, he was explaining some part of the choreography to you when Jungkook asked you over to help him read a letter someone had left for him on Weverse. Hosoek wasn’t happy with the interruption but work came first, even in friendlier situations like this.

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly, each member divulging things about themselves as the day went on, mostly about their work life, their pets and their families, nothing too personal. You could tell they all had apprehensions sharing anything like that when you had let slip that you wasn’t dating anyone after jin had asked how you’ll manage your time. You was quick to reassure them that you never wanted them to be uncomfortable and that you didn’t need to know anything more than what they felt okay to share.

Before you had left they had all exchanged numbers with you. It was the easiest way to contact one another and it would allow them to come to you directly instead of waiting for the daytime if they needed help.

When you got home it was far too late to cook anything so you decided on ordering takeout, which arrived much later than you had hoped, it didn’t take you long to finish eating the food hadn’t been the greatest and you found yourself full after a few bites so you boxed it up and put it into the refrigerator. You had just about finished when your phone rang.

“Rae?” You mumbled as you answered the call, happy to hear your friend on the other end.

“I hadn’t heard from you so I thought I’d check in, things are hectic without you here.” She sighs but you can hear her clicking a pen against her desk, something she only does out of boredom.

“So hectic that you have time to call?” You ask, settling down on your coach.

She whines dissatisfied. “You just had to go and get a new job didn’t you.”

“How did you know?” You sat forward, had it been leaked already? You knew that news travelled fast it was impossible not to but that was almost too fast.

“Oh stop worrying!” She chastised. “Your mother called me and asked me to get you a cake for celebration. I’m guessing you took the job? What are they like?”

You shake your head, throwing the tv control back on the seat beside you. “They are nice but that’s all I can say.”

“Stop.” You laugh at her irritation. “Seriously?”

“I know it’s exciting Rae but I don’t want to take away the little privacy they have, they are nice, they made me feel welcome.” You knew you could trust her but even so it still felt wrong, especially after how Taehyung had seemed so on edge about you.

You heard her throw the pen at her desk, as much as you loved your best friend she could be very dramatic. “You’re no fun.”

“You’re not respectful.” You shot back, a little harsher than intended.

You had almost thought you’d upset her until she asked her next question.

“Are they really hot in person?”

“You don’t get bored of yourself, do you?” It was true, she never got bored.

“Nope I couldn’t, too amazing for that. When do you have a day off?”

That was something you wasn’t entirely sure about. You hadn’t actually organised the days you would be in the building and the days you’d be on call for the group. “I’ll have to ask the management team.”

“You started a job without knowing the days you’ll have off? Yeah they must be hot.”

“I’m going now.” You rolled your eyes, not that she could see you.

“Lunch on your day off?”

“Only If you don’t ask me how hot they are.”

With that you hung up, not entirely sure what to do with yourself. You’d never usually had a day off during this time of year, you knew the best thing would be to write but all you could think about was your private lessons tomorrow with Hoseok, Yoongi and Jungkook.

The rest of the night passed painfully slow, you found yourself alternating between putting together documents for your classes, planning and sending unnecessary messages to your parents in an attempt to procrastinate.

In the morning you were informed a car would pick you up, both the members and Sejin had decided it would be best that you be discreet, no one needed ridiculous dating rumours and although you were okay with people asking it wasn’t exactly a positive experience to have your information leaked.

The ride to the company building wasn’t as fun as it had been when Hoseok had picked you up, secretly you were thankful it had been him but that didn’t mean anything, he was just fun.

They had all explained their limitations and desires with you, the things they wanted to be able to do in English, Yoongi wanted to learn to write music in English which admittedly would take a greater level of understanding, Hoseok wanted to know enough to help Namjoon through the interviews something Yoongi had also intended to do and Jungkook wanted to know everything possible and was adamant that he would be better at it than anyone else. After the Grammys they all decided that they should learn something additional, especially for occasions like that.

You entered in the same place as yesterday, they really were serious about security. After having your ID scanned and a quick bag check done you were allowed into the company, Sejin had set up a room close to the practice room, it was kind of like your own office, there was everything you would need to help the members, books, a computer, a table against a small black couch in the corner. The room smelled like fresh paint although that wasn’t surprising, Seokjin had explained how the company only recently changed buildings.

Before you could even settle into the space there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” You shouted, you continued looking through the folder left on your desk, it included various documents about the members schedules, where you’d be needed, when you wouldn’t be, any relative information, you knew you’d have to look through it all properly later.

At least you wouldn’t be bored tonight.

“Hey, I see you come in I just wanted to make sure you settled okay?” You turned to see Namjoon, his blonde hair messy and eyes dark.

He definitely did not look okay. “I’m fine Thankyou, are you?”

“I’m okay, I thought it would be a good idea for us to talk. Can we sit?” He gestures to the table and you agree, taking a seat at the chair beside it as he sits himself on the couch.

You waited for a moment for him to speak, you could see he was unsure of what he was going to say which only made you hesitant to hear it.

“I care about my members a lot, I try to navigate the English side of things as best as I can but I too make mistakes. We rarely are ever provided with English translators in interviews and our previous translator wasn’t always able to translate in our interviews. I don’t like to see them stressing and worrying over things like this but they do, each of them grow more anxious around the time we have foreign interviews.” He pauses and you’re unsure wether to speak or give him more time, you didn’t want to assume where this was going and say the wrong thing. After a brief look at you he continues. “I want to think you’ll be good for us.”

With that he leans back and you find the words to respond, despite how gentle he was there was also a underlying threat between the lines stating do not fuck this up. “Namjoon-ssi, I am happy that you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about this. I can’t speak for the people who worked with you in the past but I have my own morals and expectations of the level of professionalism I want to have here. I will try to help as much as possible with everything related to that and I obviously wouldn’t like to see any of you stressed or anxious being an idol already seems exhausting.” You gesture to him and he laughs, dimples forming either side of his face.

“That’s true. Do I look that bad?” He asks, running a hand over his face.

Your shake your head earnestly. “Not at all, you’re human. It’s okay to be tired.”

He seems relieved to hear that and for the first time today you feel like you’ve started this job on the right foot.

“You’re very kind. I should go, Hobi will probably be here soon.” He stands up, his hand lingers over the door handle before he turns back to you. “You don’t have to answer this I’m just curious but why did you take the job so easily?”

“I want to write more, I always loved writing and somehow I lost the time and passion to at my last job. I know it’s going to be hectic here but I feel like it’s a chance for me to find who I am and what I want. I like new experiences and new places, I also would like to be able to give back to those around me and I couldn’t do that where I was.” You sometimes hated your honesty but it was better to be open then have them all thinking you had an ulterior motive for the job.

“Maybe one day I’ll get to read what you write.” His response is short but for some reason it only brings you motivation.

“I’m sure you will.” You smile at him once more and then he is gone.

The door closing only to reopen, this time with a different face.

“Hoseok-ssi, Goodmorning.”

His hair fell across his face, his smile bright. Although you had been expecting him you felt excited to start the day now that he was here, he always had a way to brighten the situation.

“Please call me hobi.”

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Night at the Opera

A long, code-filled opera is enough to put anyone to sleep.

It's also enough to lower defenses, opening the way for some real conversation...

And unexpected attack.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis

Major character death warning (though I will say this: trust us).

AO3

----------------

Faroe sighed. “I just wish it wasn’t so long. ”

“The very idea of a Crystalsong opera being less than twenty hours would, I fear, offend everyone’s ancestors,” said Hastur mildly, and adjusted her fancy up-do. “After all, I created them. Their entire existence is to weave beauty, music, and tale together for my pleasure… while being my very best spies in the process.”

She wrinkled her adorable, freckled nose. “I guess.”

He understood her annoyance. It wasn’t the kind of code a human brain could comprehend, which was one more thing he had to deal with before his death. “It’s necessary. Their complicated music grants the kind of detailed report I can gather from no other.”

“But it’s so boring. ”

“Shh. Don’t let anyone hear you say that. We have a reputation to maintain.”

She flopped on him with all due drama, and he caught her with a chuckle.

“Why am I going, again?” said Arthur as he arrived, scowling as he walked and John adjusted his robe.

“Because you and John are officially part of my court now,” said Hastur. “You have to be there, at my side.”

He’s hiding something, growled John.

“When isn’t he hiding something?” Arthur muttered. “At least we won’t be alone.”

They wouldn’t. The Dancers had already given Sunny and Parker what the latter was to wear.

They’re not part of your court, John challenged when reminded.

“I hope to change that over time,” said Hastur mildly. 

Too mildly.

Nibbles gave him a suspicious look so strong it could curdle milk. 

The only one who didn’t seem to doubt his reasoning was Faroe. “Okaaaay,” she said, overly miserably, flopping again.

Hastur carried her. (He hadn’t carried her this much in a few years now, and almost seemed to be making up for lost time.)

Arthur sighed. “They should be here soon.”

#

They were Parker and Sunny.

Parker had never, in his life, worn anything this fancy, this complicated, this heavy, this awkward, and he absolutely hated it. Which was a shame, because he looked fantastic.

The color was Hastur’s gold, threaded with deep green threads that somehow lent his skin a warm, bronze timbre while still linking him to the King.

Parker wasn’t sure he wanted to be linked to the King. The good news, he told himself, was this color wasn’t only Hastur’s.

Turn for me again, please? Sunny said for the fifth time. Oh, Parker. You look absolutely stunning. If I wasn’t already smitten, I would fall for you on the spot.

See, that helped. That helped a lot. “You like it, huh?” he said, grinning.

I like you in most things, and sometimes nothing at all, said Sunny, a touch too distracted to be subtle or seductive. But I very much like you in gold. And this particular one… I wonder if we have enough time for jewelry. I think some emeralds set in a similar gold, on a short chain for your neck…

That was a whole thing. Parker shook his head a little. “This is my year for a lot of new stuff. You know what? Yeah. I’ll put on whatever you want. Go crazy. I’m all yours.”

#

Oh! Arthur, he’s…

“What?”

Sunny’s voice nearly boomed. Doesn’t he look incredible?

John was silent for long enough to give the impression of an enormous, petulant breath. Arthur! Let me dress you like that! Arthur!

Arthur cleared his throat. “Sorry, everyone. He’s in a mood today.”

But he looks incredible, John whined.

“You do look great,” said Faroe, smiling shyly. “We almost match!” She spun, flaring her yellow-green gown.

Parker laughed. “Like I’m dolled up for something fancy. I never got to do this before. It’s fun.”

“Come on, John,” Arthur coaxed. “I don’t even know what he’s wearing.”

John huffed. Parker is wearing gold ; unlike your robe, his lacks the Yellow Sign, and features what appear to be dark greens woven throughout. Around his neck is an elaborate neckpiece, twisted into fine scrollwork with deep green emeralds set into it and smaller emeralds dangling from the ends. Around his wrists are golden cuffs with more emeralds; a few thin gold chains wrap around his throat, lying under and entwining with the large necklace.

Arthur blinked. “Like a fancy prisoner?”

I would never make him look like a prisoner, Sunny huffed. You have no taste, Arthur.

“I can’t fucking see him,” said Arthur dryly.

You didn’t have taste when you could see, either, Sunny quipped, because you somehow said no to this.

Arthur laughed. “All right, fair,” he said, slightly red as Faroe leaned into him.

“Good one,” Parker approved.

A sweep of Dancers flitted in, their pointed limbs clicking gracefully on the floor. Behind them floated the King in Yellow. Servitors followed—empty suits of armor, large furry beasts bearing palanquins, ghostly birds sparking with silent, para-dimensional lightning.

Faroe’s curls tried to escape her up-do, frizzing. 

“My own,” said Hastur. “My daughter. My honored family. It is time.” He took Faroe and rose, carrying her to the palanquin of the tallest beast.

Forward, said John.

“What did he call us?” Parker murmured quietly. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t catch it,” said Arthur, climbing up with John’s help. Parker frowned but followed, thoughtful, and together, they were off to the opera.

#

The Crystalsong were not incredible mobile beings; they moved slowly, their many legs tinkling as they crept around the stage, voices like chimes as they chanted, back and forth. Their music, however, was divine. The opera was incredible, the music gorgeous, the plot complex and layered and overarching—and it had also been going on for over fifteen hours.

Hastur did his best to keep his little group awake and functioning. They had a special, private box, where no one would enter. He’d provided board games and card games; books; food and drink; a small water closet for their needs; and several padded settees for them to use as needed.

Faroe fell asleep on him toward hour sixteen. Well. It was after her bedtime. 

Still. He thought back to catching her out late with Dis. He’d never pursued that; she wasn’t still doing that, was she?

Arthur was no better, and conked out half an hour later.

Hastur sighed. At least Parker and Sunny seemed to be still enjoying themselves. “Ahem,” Hastur said.

“Mm?” Said Parker, eyes locked on the stage far below.

“They have written a part for me.”

Parker blinked up at him. “Uh. Good for you?”

Hastur rumbled. “I will have to leave shortly. You will all be safe here.”

Parker didn’t seem to understand the danger. Or, perhaps, was not easily scared. “All right. Do we gotta be awake?”

“No.”

“Cool.” Parker took a handful of honey-glazed nuts and leaned back in his chair.

Hastur studied him. Cradled his daughter. Studied Arthur. They were all so tired. He didn’t want them to be tired. It wasn’t fair they’d be tired when he was working so hard for them.

Well. Maybe he’d have time to deal with it later.

Sure.

An hour later, Parker finally fell asleep, too, sacked out on the deep red settee. Hastur added an extra, gentle spell to keep his family asleep, took some time to arrange them all together because it was funny (and also very cute), then headed down toward backstage.

#

Arthur lay curled against Parker's side, head on his shoulder, snoring softly; Faroe was tucked into his side in turn, curled up and completely out of it. Parker's chin rested on his chest as he slept, the backdrop of the impressive (if low and chantlike) choral work helping to keep them all lulled.

John and Sunny were, of course, not asleep, and John watched the performance in the mirror above them, which had been angled to catch the stage. Arthur will let me do that someday, said John out of nowhere. Dress him up, I mean. Make him shiny.

He’s a stubborn one, but I’m sure you can warm him up to the idea, Sunny said gently. I like the gold he’s wearing there. I know it was Hastur’s choice, but it looks nice with you as well.

John sounded proud. It’s not just his color. Your Parker cleaned up well, too. Not that he doesn’t pull off the vagabond look.

Sunny huffed. He looks good in most things. I’m mostly just glad he lets me pick things out for him. Being able to do the jewelry was a pleasant surprise. He laughed, low and gentle. …Hastur will be gone for at least an hour or two, I imagine. I wonder if we’ll see him down there? He paused. If you’ll see him, I guess. I don’t have control over the eyes at all.

John considered that. I feel like there’s… a way around that, but I don’t know what it is. He sounded sad.

It’s probably just something else locked up in that mind of yours. You’ll recover it in time, I’m sure of it, Sunny rumbled, low, without the presence that Hastur’s had, but hopefully reassuring anyway. I… I had a question about something in that vein, if you’d be willing to talk to me about it.

John turned his attention from the opera. What?

It’s about… Well. It’s about you and Arthur, Sunny said quietly, and it might deal with things you can’t quite remember. But what’s important is what you know, Rex. Does that make sense?

The string section began a dramatic, tense pizzicato, plucked and rhythmic.

Okay, said John. I’m listening.

Sunny took a trembling breath. They’re all really asleep, right?

Oh, yeah, said John. Hastur made sure they’d stay asleep. They’d go wandering or picking fights or something otherwise, and we both know it.

…I hadn’t considered that, Sunny said, low. That’s why this is… I’m stalling. Alright. He took another breath. I… I assume you remember, or you were told, how I was first introduced to Arthur.

The barest pause. They both knew this was mine-filled territory. Yes. 

When… When I was with Arthur, he was in a bad state. He spoke briefly about the ways the two of you had suffered, of your determination to not be separated from him, Sunny said softly. Timidly. You were tortured.

John was quiet. Yes. 

I’m sorry, Sunny said quickly—too quickly. I shouldn’t have brought this up. We don’t have to talk about this.

No, said John, remembering the meaning of Rex. It’s fine. Say what you need to say.

I… If you’re… sure, Sunny said, halting, that insubstantial breath still much too quick. The important thing was that you were determined to stay with him, no matter the cost. And I… I wondered if that… If that was still the case.

The singers hit a high, strident note like hammers on bells.

Yes! John shouted over them. More than ever!

Sunny let out a soft laugh. I thought so, he said, gentle. Would you stay, even if you could be separated? To have your own body?

John went silent for a moment. The music settled in, strings wordlessly singing. Would getting a body mean losing him? he said, quietly enough to almost be inaudible.

That’s not what I mean, Sunny said. Or… Not exactly. I don’t know. But you’re sure that staying with him is right?

Yes. I don’t think I can ever leave his body, anyway, but I don’t care anymore. Body or not, this man is mine.

You’re very strong. You might be able to, Sunny said quietly.

I don’t care. It’s not the part that matters. The moment I woke…. John paused. The moment I woke, with nothing else I understood, I knew he was mine. Familiar even when nothing else was. That’s the point.

Down below, Hastur’s voice suddenly plummeted, deep and bass and wondrous, underpinning the entire chorus. Gasps briefly shimmered over the audience.

How did you know that was the right decision? said Sunny.

John’s hand twitched. I don’t understand the question. How would I not know?

You… Sunny sighed, and a muscle in Parker’s jaw twitched. Before, you had… Other options, but you stuck through it with him regardless. You suffered to keep him safe, even at your own expense. How did you know that all of that would be worth it? How did you know you were making the right decision?

John took this seriously. The chorus rose and quieted again, oohing as Hastur’s solo climbed (the god had quite the range). How do you know what tastes good?

I don’t follow.

You just taste it, right? You don’t have to look at the stars or count tea leaves. You know what’s good because you taste it. Right?

Sunny huffed. Sure. I taste it, and if I like it, it tastes good.

Do you like him? Does he feel good? 

The music dipped low. A whisper of percussion and low strings.

Yes, Sunny said quietly. He feels… He feels like the sun emerging from the clouds on a cold day. Like hot tea after you’ve wept. He feels safe.

John’s diaphanous form shifted. So it is right.

But it’s not that simple, said Sunny. I am not… I am supposed to go back. I was always supposed to go back. It’s all I was ever supposed to do, my only purpose. I spent almost nine years in misery because I was separate, and returning was right, but now… Now I’m confused. And I’m scared, because if I… If I stay, he’ll… He took a breath. I can’t keep him safe.

John’s hand relaxed. What does missing a train have to do with invalidating whether you like something?

Sunny fell silent.

Rex, John thought, refusing to let this go. And if you stay, he’ll what?

He’ll die.

He’d do that anyway.

Faroe turned and snuggled her dad, face on Arthur’s chest.

John went quiet as if not to wake them.

The R’lyehian came easily. [I don’t want him to die,] Sunny whispered. [I… I’m scared. If I stay, we may not be safe. We might have to run, or fight. And I can’t… I will never be able to hold him. I couldn’t even protect myself from Larson, how can I help protect him?]

John was quiet for a moment. [I understand. So many times, I… had to watch him be hurt. And I have a hand and a foot.] He considered. [Humans get hurt when they’re together, too. It’s just… being mortal. Nobody can protect somebody from everything.]

[But forsaking true godhood, a return to my fuller self… If I returned I could protect him, even though he would hate me.] Sunny let out a shuddering breath. [...I know my limitations, Rex. It’s been ten years, and I… I am still like this. The only way I have grown in power was through Larson’s rituals, and those came at a cost I am no longer willing to pay. I… I may never be more than… This.]

[Okay. Does he care?]

Sunny let out a long-suffering sigh that told John exactly what the answer was.

John exhaled, too, thinking. This would be easier, he was sure, if he had his memories. How would Arthur answer this? That helped, actually. Trying to think how Arthur would answer this. [Things don’t always go as planned. Right?]

[Story of my life, but yes. You’re correct.]

[So. When things don’t, what do you two decide to do?]

[We survive. We prioritize our safety, getting out, getting help, and we move forward,] Sunny said, his voice taking on a deeply serious tone. [And… And when we’re out, we talk about it. Sometimes Parker… Has to wait, for a bit, but we talk. He’s very easy to talk to. Very good at helping me untangle my thoughts.]

[Good. Everybody should have someone like that.] John briefly wondered if that was a thing he could enforce later, somehow, when he ruled. [So it’s okay to have good things even though plans don’t always work out.]

[I don’t think I’m making sense,] Sunny sighed.

[He’s mortal. You’re afraid he’ll be hurt, and you’re not a strong enough god to save him. So you’re wondering if it’s right for you to even be in his life the way you are. Right?]

[I—yes. Yes, that’s exactly it.] John got the distinct impression of Sunny blinking at him with… awe? Adoration? Gratitude, certainly. [I feel like a burden, and I… I don’t want to be. He’s told me otherwise, yes, but I just… I’m so aware of everything I can’t do, especially when it’s at odds with what I want to do.]

[So…] It hit John suddenly. Sunny was rex, too, whether or not he realized it, and that changed this whole situation. [What does he need? ]

[I don’t know.]

[That’s your problem, right there.] John was sure, even if he didn’t fully understand Sunny’s hesitation. [If you don’t know what he needs, you can’t ever fulfill it. Find that out first. Then we can work toward getting him whatever that is.]

[He says that all he needs is me,] Sunny said, quietly. [But that can’t be right.]

[Why?] John sounded genuinely curious.

Onstage, the music changed again. Hastur’s voice was hidden in the chorus again, but he floated across the stage, outstretched, stunning.

No one in the booth noticed.

[Because…] Sunny said, slowly, testing. [Because I am… me.]

[You know Arthur. A little. Right?]

[I’m getting to know him better. He’s… different, than when I first met him. Good different.]

[This “different” part was always there, along with the mess he was when I came back. Sunny, he… I don’t remember all the details, but I know he was so fucked when I came back that he thought it was over and he’d lost completely. He’s got levels. Everybody does. Good and bad. Even your guy does. You know?]

[Yes. Things are rarely as simple as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. We know this.]

[So… why don’t you have the freedom to have levels, too?]

Sunny stayed silent. The music swelled, Hastur’s voice bringing it up like he cradled it all in his hand.

The sound nearly buried Sunny’s voice, so small. [Because I think I may be mostly bad, and… I don’t want to be.]

John pondered this one. [Bad according to what? We are what we are. We are gods. Both of us. Small pieces, yes, but that’s what we are. If the people we own are happy and healthy, then how can we be bad?]

[I’m not growing, Rex. I don’t know that I can change.]

[Sure you are. You’re learning. You’re not the same as you were with Larson. I know. Arthur told me how you vowed to destroy him. You’re not the same person. So, you grew.]

Below, the movement climaxed. Applause rose. Hastur bowed, and began the next movement.

[So… You don’t think I should rejoin him, then.]

John’s golden mist shuddered, all around Arthur’s sleeping form. [No. I don’t. That asshole’s fine. You’ve got people who love you. Why the fuck would you just leave them behind?]

[Because if I did, no one could hurt me ever again.]

That one took a moment to process.

Sunny let out a shaky breath. [I know. It’s selfish, and awful.]

If John had the right to choose, so did Sunny. Hm. More applause. The opera had finally turned the corner, reaching toward a happier ending than expected. [I guess it comes down to what matters more. Are you happy when you’re with him?]

[I am.] There was something distinctly teary about his voice. [I’d never been happy before I met him.]

[Is he worth the risk?] It wasn’t a challenging question. John was genuinely asking, and it showed.

[I’d risk much more if it meant he would be safe.]

[He wouldn’t be without you. You leaving him doesn't guarantee him suddenly being safe. Just alone. If you fucking died in a fire, Larson would still go after him. He wants him, or something. It’s weird. It wouldn’t stop just because you’re gone. So what would be the point of leaving him, then?]

The orchestra suddenly went heavy brass, dramatic.

[You’ve noticed it too, huh?] Sunny’s voice was quiet. Fearful.

[Yeah. I don’t think that guy knows what the fuck’s going on. Arthur told me some people can be in denial.] And John laughed. [And he’s in denial about being in denial! Humans. I fucking swear.]

[Parker believes he has it handled. He’s keeping an eye on it, though… I don’t think he understands how badly Larson is fixated on him. He… He doesn’t know him like I do.]

[So he needs you.]

[I’d argue that without me, he wouldn’t have that problem in the first place, but…]

[If you go away, will Larson?]

Sunny sighed heavily. [No. He will not.]

[Then he needs you. And because you’re not a mortal human, even if you are weakened, you can help him better than anyone else. You understand the situation. You understand the threat. You also understand his strengths and weaknesses, and Larson’s. He needs you. ]

Below, the opera seemed to finally be coming to an end. Applause rose like a flood, enveloping.

[I don’t know how to feel about that,] Sunny said softly.

[Do you have to know?] John raised his voice a little to get over the volume of praise. [You think I understand how to feel about all this? What matters is what I have, and what I chose. I learned that from Arthur. He’s right.]

[I… I haven’t had very many choices, Rex. Maybe that’s why this is so hard for me.] Sunny let out a laugh. [I… I’m lucky to have you to ask, then. Thank you.]

John couldn’t, technically, preen. He found a way. [We… we are… we’re on this path together. Both of us. Forgotten Ones who… aren’t forgotten, anymore. Not with the people we found. So. This is a choice. Maybe a really important one. He needs you, so don’t leave him. Besides, if you do, Arthur might do something stupid, too. He gets… ideas.]

Sunny really laughed, then, bassy and profound. [That… that he does.] He went quiet. [I wish I could hug you. The instincts to use our tentacles are still there, and I just… Thank you.]

The golden mist that was John undulated, but did not leave Arthur’s immediate vicinity. [Maybe someday. I don’t particularly want our humans touching in our place.]

The spell keeping said humans asleep must have been lifted. Faroe raised her head, blinking blearily. Her updo had stayed relatively unscathed, though her gown was completely wrinkled. She kissed Arthur’s cheek and clambered off the sofa.

Arthur grunted.

Parker snored a little.

Arthur seemed to realize they were laid out like parts of a sandwich and stiffened. “Uh.”

Sorry, Arthur, Sunny said, a bit sheepishly. The King needed to perform, and tucked us all together. Did you rest well?

Arthur sat up. Patted over Parker as though trying to figure out what was going on. “Yeah, actually.”

“Uh?” said Parker, blinking blearily at him. “You. What?”

“I think Hastur piled us up like firewood,” said Arthur dryly.

Parker’s look was amazing. “Why?” he said.

“I have no fucking idea.” Arthur stretched.

“We were warm and cuddly,” said Faroe with youthful wisdom.

Hastur reappeared, having no need to bother with petty things like doors. “Well,” he said. “Did we all survive?”

Faroe yawned, and—evidently sleepy enough not to care how old and mature she was—raised her arms.

He picked her up immediately.

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “I’m sorry we slept. Fuck.”

“Nnh,” said Parker. “I think I like operas. Bet the couches aren’t normally this comfy, though.”

Arthur laughed.

Sunny rumbled. The three of you seemed peaceful. We decided not to wake you.

“Well done, all,” said Hastur, and—for reasons unexplained—picked up everyone else.

“Hey!” said Parker, pushing pointlessly.

“Hush,” said Hastur. “Our enemies are about. We will return home at once.”

“You sounded great, dad,” Faroe mumbled, half-asleep.

“As if you even heard it,” he said warmly, fondly, brushing her cheek, and opened a portal. “We have all done well. I have gathered the information I need, and decoded it.”

“Good for you,” said Arthur with that particular grouchiness that came when he was oversleepy.

“Home,” said Hastur, clearly relieved nothing bad had happened, and stepped through the portal to the protections of Carcosa.

#

Those protections on Carcosa—and the palace in particular—were good. Really good. Ghoaca was just about done trying to get through them.

“Your Highness,” said one of his guys.

Ghoaca snarled at him to make him shut up.

It was a stupid assignment anyway. Find a way into his court and use this knife may seem specific, but it most definitely was not. Hastur had locked this place down, and while Ghoaca had seen the target from some distance, he had yet to actually get into the court proper.

He was only a second son. Unimportant; he couldn’t get an invitation to actual court, just the hallways to watch the people who mattered march in and out again.

Fuck. There had to be a way. This would, he was sure, catapult him beyond his older brother for favor; why else would he have been given such an important assignment? It wasn’t like his father would just throw him away—

“You look frustrated, friend,” said a cheerful voice, and Ghoaca turned to find a man facing them, a man his people hadn’t warned him about. Just a human man, smiling, eyes shadowed, fiddling with a small, pink tube.

Was this guy going to sound the alarm? Ghoaca bore his teeth, lashing his crocodile tail. “What’s it to you, meatling?”

The man held up both hands, still smiling. “Hey, now, not your enemy! Seems to me you want a way inside. Am I reading that wrong? Am I mistaken? Is your actual goal something other than the one you’re telling yourself with increasing desperation?”

Ghoaca stared at him.

“Right, that went over your head. So! You want in, right? I happen to hate the guy who owns this place, so tell you what. I’ll let you in! For free!” And somehow, impossibly, that smile grew. He tossed the pink tube up and caught it again. Whatever it was, to Ghoaca’s sensitive snout, it smelled like human hair. Was that some kind of accoutrement?

“How dare you speak so casually to—” said Ghoaca.

“Yes, yes, Prince Ghoaca of Thesia, Duke of the Limestone Gorge, blah blah I don’t care. You want in or not, sweetums?”

He could always kill this guy on his way in. “You have such a way?”

“Yep! Not just wagging my jaw! Oh, and in the unlikely circumstance that you’re caught alive, you can tell them… the hammer fell. Now they don’t have to worry about it anymore! Isn’t that grand?”

Ghoaca stared at him. “What?”

The man sighed. “I swear. Arthur spoils me for dealing with other people.” And he just… tore the air. Ripped it, opened it like a thin sheet.

Hastur’s throne room, currently empty, lay beyond, wreathed in shadow and glinting with hints of gold.

Ghoaca sometimes felt like he didn't quite understand what was happening around him (and was sure no one else did, either and just lied about it). Well, he understood this. “Hastur’s throne room?”

“Have fun!” said the human, and stepped aside.

Ghoaca was not inclined to look a gift horse in the mouth. “You’re lucky I’ve chosen to spare you,” he said, and gestured to his soldiers. Together, they stepped through.

Laughter followed him, damn near hysterical, but before he could turn around and hurt the guy for daring to do that at him, the portal closed again.

He had just enough time to hide his soldiers in shadow as another portal spat out the god and his… “family.”

Ghoaca was fast, and strong, and had always been silent. He knew he had moments before the god noticed him, and that only the distraction of these other people had kept them all from detection. He gripped his blade. There was no more time to waste.

His father would be so proud.

#

Hastur stepped into the throne room, relieved, and put his people down. They’d made it, and everyone was all right.

Faroe yawned. “Did you learn important things?”

“Yes,” Hastur said. “We still need to find a way for you to gather their information as well.” A twenty-hour constant code-breaking marathon wasn’t really possible for her, no matter how brilliant she was. Human minds didn’t work like that.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, because in her understanding, they had time, they had all the time, they had so much time that there seemed to be no end.

They had five years, and if he didn’t figure out how to help her decode his most valuable spy network’s reports, she’d be ruling Carcosa half-blind. “Of course, my darling. We should all get ready for bed.”

“Already fucking slept,” muttered Parker.

“It was not true rest,” said Hastur. “You will find yourselves in need of actual sleep.”

Arthur yawned. “Fine.”

You were gathering information? Demanded John. Why didn’t we know?

“All in good time,” said Hastur.

John’s hand flipped him off.

Hastur chuckled, low. “Yes, yes.” He folded Faroe’s tiny hand in his enormous one.

Arthur yawned, stretching. “What’s the schedule tomorrow?”

“Court will be late,” said Hastur, turning, facing Faroe, who beamed up at him. “I’m sure Nibbles missed you dreadfully.”

“Maybe she tore up more art,” said Faroe slyly.

“Naughty creature,” purred Hastur, rumbling. “I highly suspect she will—”

Three beats, so fast. 

One: a dozen warriors suddenly leaped from the darkness around the edges of the room, wielding weapons and spells. 

Two: Hastur—all the way at the other end of the throne room, for all it mattered—popped Faroe into a protective bubble, then turned and flew into the thick of them, roaring, smashing them like bowling pins made of underbaked cake. Their magic splashed against him uselessly—strong, deadly, but nothing to a god. 

Three: Summoned by tripped alarms, Dis appeared in an explosion of purple sparks. With a barbaric yell, she charged the cluster. Golden warriors ran in her wake, attacking the intruders. 

Arthur gasped, evidently tried to run in the opposite direction John did, and fell. He scrambled away on the floor, gasping.

Arthur had no way of knowing he’d gone the way he’d been herded. 

And there, away from the soldiers, too far from the god, too far from help, he did not see the tall, reptilian figure lunging at him from behind a pillar, bringing down a black, flamberge dagger as if to remove Arthur’s head.

Parker and Sunny were quicker.

Ephaiaglor! Sunny bellowed, casting for speed, and Parker slammed into the attacker, tackling a being with nearly a foot and a half of height on him, with a tail wider than Parker’s whole body, and teeth Parker barely prevented from snapping right on his face.

“Parker!” Arthur shouted, hearing the impact.

Parker was human, but he was not alone. For one moment, they wrestled, feet sliding, fighting for the dagger. Ch'nglui'ahog! Sunny cast, and the lizard-man’s limbs simply broke.

Ghoaca howled. The dagger fell from his ruined claws, and nicked Parker on the way down.

It was nothing. A scratch. Less than a shaving mistake, nothing that should be serious, nothing should be fatal, or cause him to fall, but it did, and Parker just dropped, limp, eyes suddenly flat and and empty and—

Parker! John cried.

Arthur heard the body fall and go limp. He reached, grabbed.

Parker did not respond. He was utterly limp, no longer breathing.

“Parker?” Arthur said, voice higher and more broken on every succeeding try. “Parker! Parker!”  

Three beats, so fast.

One: Dis was there, suddenly there, leaping over Parker’s body to grab nothing in the air with purple sparks and streams of power sizzling all around her, and she came down like a meteor, cracking the floor of the throne room, and slammed both fists onto Parker’s limp body as if to shock him back to life. 

Two: Parker gasped, an ugly, pained sound. Alive.

Three: You! John snarled, bellowed, roared at the lizard-man who moaned on the ground with arms and legs broken, and then…

John wasn’t sure what he did. Something. Something, like extending Arthur’s arm (except it wasn’t Arthur’s arm because Arthur’s arm could not do this) and—

“Fuck,” Parker said, shaky, unable to sit up, but he could see just fine. See the golden cloud crushing the lizard-guy, squishing the assassin so his eyes bulged out, so blood popped and squirted from every pore.

“Take them to the prison pits!” Hastur commanded, and his soldiers dragged the whimpering survivors away.

It had taken seconds and left them all shaken to the core.

A moment of panting, of gasping, as everyone tried to parse where they were, what had happened. Faroe banged her fists on the inside of her bubble, unheard, but clearly demanding freedom.

And now, at last, Sunny made one small, tiny, terrible sound: I’m sorry.  

“Sunny?” Parker whispered. “Sunny! Sunny!”

There was no reply.

----------

Notes:

Thanks to @flamiart for hersacrificial asshole character, the erstwhile prince of Thesia!

[slaymitchabernathy]

Beating Heart

| "And I don't know where I'm going, but I know it's gonna be a long time. 'Cause I'll be leaving in the morning, come the white wine, bitter sunlight." |

For once, today will not be like other days. 

I wake up the same as always, surrounded by gray walls, dressed in gray clothes. I am surrounded by gray. Consumed by it. 

I am desperate to get out.

Not by necessity. I have everything I could ever need. But I’m selfish. Too selfish to be in Abnegation. I’ve seen how the others are, how selfless they are without even trying. How my father gives up his seat on the bus to a stranger without even batting an eye. How my neighbor Caleb always helps by opening the doors at school during dismissal. And how his younger sister Clara is always willing to lend a helping hand. 

I try to be selfless, to be helpful and I am, but not of my own volition. I wish I could be better, be more helpful but there’s a selfish part of me that longs to do things for myself, to not wear gray clothes and blend in with everyone else. “Stiffs” is what they call us. Since we’re always so stiff, always standing together like cattle. 

I have to get out of bed, start my day, cut my hair. I take my time getting out of bed, making sure that my covers are folded neatly and that my pillow is fluffed. At least I don’t have to worry about what to wear, it’s always the same thing. A gray dress, shapeless, unflattering, and a gray long-sleeved shrug. We get new clothes every once in a while but they’re never unique. 

I glance around my room one last time before saying goodbye to the four walls I’ve known my whole life. My life up until this point has been peaceful. It’s quiet in my house and I like that, I like how routine-oriented everything in my life is but if it doesn’t change soon then I just know that I’ll lose my mind. 

So today, I am going to be selfish. 

꧁ ꧂

My father is already downstairs eating breakfast. He gives me the warm smile he always gives me in the morning and nods towards my plate, full of boring, plain food. We only eat what’s necessary, only the nutrients that are absolutely required for our diets. I hate it. 

“How did you sleep?” I ask, it’s always custom that the children ask the parents about their days first. I’m going to miss our dinners together. Where he cooks the chicken and I cut the carrots. I’m going to miss my father. 

He swallows his food and grunts, “I slept quite well actually. How did you sleep? Any nerves keep you up at night?” 

A small smile teases my lips as I grab my cup of water and take a sip. I’ve attended enough Abnegation gatherings to know how most families interact with one another. Conversations are curt and surface level. My father is known for his calm demeanor and is a rather quiet man altogether. At home, he’s much more relaxed, much more open. Which surprises me, but I cherish it, cherish how he bends the rules sometimes and allows for more mature conversations. 

“I also slept very well,” I lie, feeling terribly guilty at how easy it’s become for me to lie to him, to everyone. “Although I must admit I’m quite nervous,” I add, and that’s not a lie. 

The Choosing Ceremony is today. I chose my future today.

I’ll have my name called out and I will walk onto the stage and take the knife and cut my palm, then I’ll drop my blood into one of the bowls that will determine how and where I spend the rest of my life. 

No pressure whatsoever. 

We took our Aptitude tests the other day, to help us narrow down and conclude which Faction we’ll belong in the best. It should’ve made me feel better, made my choice clearer but it didn’t.

My results were inconclusive. 

The one test that was supposed to tell me who I was and where I belonged was inconclusive. 

I, of course, slightly lost my mind. I begged the woman administering my test to tell me what my results meant, why they were inconclusive. She had taken me out the backdoor, into the alleyway of the school and whispered a few words that made me sick to my stomach, “People call it Divergent, you don’t fit into just one category. Just stick with your Faction and you’ll be fine Stiff.” 

I didn’t tell my father, didn’t tell anyone. I lied and said that the liquid they made me drink upset my stomach and that I got sent home early. It’s too easy to lie to these people, my people. I have to get out. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No need to feel nervous Soarynn. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” 

Our eyes meet for a moment and I begin to wonder what he felt when it was his day to decide his future. My father was born into Abnegation, born and raised and now here I am, his only daughter getting ready to abandon him. I wish my mother were still alive. But she died when I was two. I don’t remember her a lot, and we don’t have any photos of her. Photographs are seen as self-centered and a source of vanity. I wish we had a photo of her.

But I look just like her. That’s what everyone’s told me at least. I remember her being beautiful, even dressed in drab gray clothes she was beautiful. I don’t think I’m beautiful. 

“Yes,” I say, looking down at my plate, “I’ll make the right decision.”

꧁ ꧂

Neither of us speaks as he cuts my hair. Today will be the last day my father ever cuts my hair. It’s not too long but not too short. It falls below my shoulders although it hardly matters since it’s always twisted up in a bun. I got my blonde hair from my mother as well. My father has brown hair and brown eyes. I have blue eyes, but they sometimes look gray, as if the clothing is rubbing off on them. 

I close my eyes as I sit out in the hallway in front of the small wardrobe we keep out here. The sound of the scissors cutting my hair does nothing to cut the tension in the air. I crack open one eye and take a glance in the mirror in front of me. We aren’t allowed to look in mirrors, more vanity. But every four months, on the third day of the first week, we’re allowed to look in the mirror. I open my other eye and I don’t really know what to think of myself.

Being sixteen is hard enough already, not knowing what you look like makes it even worse. My brown eyebrows remind me that I am still my father’s daughter and I take a moment to memorize my face. My skin is still tan and there are still freckles all over my face. My lips seem to be a decent shade of pink and I wonder what it would look like if I put lipstick on them.

We aren’t allowed to have makeup either. 

I’m still a stick figure much to my dismay. Father says that mother was the same way, lean and limber. I don’t think I’m very lean though, nor limber. Lanky might be a better word for it. And little, I wish I could grow taller. 

I catch my father’s eyes in the mirror and he smiles, “You look beautiful.” 

That means more than he thinks it does. 

I nod and look down at the floor, my hair surrounds my feet. “All done,” he tells me before walking around me to slide the wardrobe door shut, taking the mirror away from me. I brush my hair behind my ears and look up at him, he has kind eyes. I’m going to miss him so much.

“Thank you for cutting my hair.”

I’ve offered to cut his hair but he says he prefers to cut it himself. Fine by me. At least he won’t be left without someone to cut his hair when I leave. 

“You’re welcome. Now, go get ready and I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes,” he says, cleaning off the scissors with a cloth. I nod and shuffle into my room. There’s nothing for me to do except sit on the edge of my bed and try to soak it all in for the last time. I will miss how my bedsheets smell and how the light peeks in through the small rectangular window across from my bed. 

I pull my hair back into a bun. I don't know what it looks like, what I look like. I will miss knowing that people truly value me for my heart, not my looks.

But I will not miss feeling stuck, like I don't belong. 

꧁ ꧂

Many people greet me and my father as we all walk to the Hub. The Hub is the tallest building in all of the city. It used to be called “The Sears Center” but now it is where the Choosing Ceremony is held. There are one hundred floors. 

They greet my father more than me but I can’t blame them. He’s one of the Abnegation leaders. He makes public appearances and represents our Faction along with Crassus Snow, another leader and a good friend of my father’s. Crassus is a tall man with broad shoulders, his hair is blonde but he always keeps it clipped short. From what I’ve seen he’s very kind, always willing to lend a helping hand and he’s been nothing but nice to me since I can remember. 

But there’s something about his smile that seems forced. 

He claps my father on the back as we approach the Hub, the shadow it casts leaves me feeling cold. “Glen, good to see you.” My father gives him a smile, “You as well old friend. Today is quite an exciting day for our children.” Crassus does have a son, but he left when he turned sixteen. I remember it caused quite the scandal considering he’s the son of a Faction leader. Kids at my school said it was because Crassus beat his son but my father assured me that it wasn’t the truth. I don’t recall ever meeting or seeing his son before he left. 

“Yes, are you excited Soarynn?” Crassus asks me, looking down to maintain eye contact. I give him a polite smile, “Yes I’m very excited for today. You’ll be presenting, won’t you?” Every year one of the Faction leaders presents the Choosing Ceremony and is in charge of giving out the mandatory speech and handing the knife to every child who makes their way onto the stage. 

Crassus nods and doesn’t hesitate to hold the door open for me, which leads to him holding it open for the rest of our Faction so I stay by his side while my father is swept up in the crowd. I’ll see him inside. “I am. Hopefully, it doesn’t cause a scene,” he says with a chuckle.

I furrow my eyebrows and can’t shut my mouth before I ask a question I shouldn’t. “Why would you cause a scandal?” I can feel a few people looking at me but I want to know, even if it’s considered rude to ask your elders such questions. I wait for the scolding but I don’t get one.

Instead, he sighs and looks over at a group of people approaching us, all dressed in blue. “Let’s go inside,” he suggests and I’m quick to walk inside. We walk towards the rest of our group who has, of course, elected to take the stairs instead of the elevator. 

“People have been spreading rumors about me. Saying that I used to beat my son and my wife.” I frown, I don’t remember his wife either. “But you didn’t,” I say softly, and my legs already hurt from walking up all these stairs. Crassus nods, “I know. But some people aren’t too fond of me. They don’t want me to be a leader.”

I look around at all the people in my Faction, people who I believe are good, genuine people. How could they spread a lie like that? He notices my staring and chuckles, “No one in Abnegation has been singing these lies Soarynn. But other Factions have.” 

I don’t say anything, there’s nothing left to say once I finally see the door that leads to the room where the Choosing Ceremony is held. There’s no walking this back now. My father is waiting for us and he gives me a small smile once I reach him, “Good luck Soarynn,” Crassus says, “I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.” I manage a fake smile but I feel like throwing up if I’m being honest. 

My father pulls me to the side once Crassus walks into the room and it’s just the two of us in the stairwell. “I don’t know if this is goodbye,” he says, “but I want you to know that no matter what you decide, I’ll always love you. I’m very proud of you Soarynn.” I can’t cry. Not now. Abnegation aren’t known for showing affection but neither of us hesitate to embrace one another in a tight hug. “I love you too,” I whisper, blinking the tears away. My eyes burn but I don't let it show once we pull away. 

He sniffles and clears his throat, “Well, we should head in, find our seats.”

Children sit separately from their parents. Each Faction has a designated seating area and ours is smack in the middle of the room. It’s so loud when we walk in, so many people are talking at once. I spot the many colors of the Factions, all shining brightly. Then I look over at Abnegation, dull as ever. 

A woman in a tight-fitting blue dress approaches us. Her hair is frizzy and she has a wild look in her eyes like she might pounce on you at any moment, “Glen, I didn’t know your daughter was Choosing today.” I bite my tongue even though I want to question how this woman knows me. My father simply nods and gives my shoulder a squeeze, “She is Volumina.” 

Volumina sizes me up in a matter of seconds before humming to herself, “Today is a very big day for you. Have you prepared yourself?” I subconsciously straighten up my posture, feeling as though this is a very important lady whose impression might matter to me someday, “I hope I have,” I answer. She raises an eyebrow, “I assume you already have a Faction in mind?” It takes everything in me not to glance around the room in search of where I belong. “I have my Aptitude results in mind,” I reply. 

Most people here have and will decide on their Faction solely based on their Aptitude results. If only mine were conclusive. She tilts her head, “But it’s your decision, isn’t it?” I wish I could walk away but I can’t embarrass my father or come off as rude. I give her a nervous laugh, “Well, aren’t we supposed to think about our Faction? What’s best for the city?” 

If this woman is in the Faction I think she’s in, then she’s looking for a scientific answer. Facts only. And the Aptitude test is as factual as you can get. She leans in, too close for comfort, “I want you to decide what’s best for you, not anybody else.” She straightens up as if none of that happened and gives my father a polite smile, “I’ll see you at the next city meeting, Glen.” 

Neither of us says anything as we watch her walk away. “That was Volumina Gaul,” my father tells me as if he can read my mind. I watch her walk back over to her Faction, a big sea of blue. 

I nod, “She seemed…prickly.” 

The lights flash and it’s time to take our seats. My father takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, “I’ll see you soon.” I don’t return the sentient but I do find my seat. I’m seated next to Clara who’s sitting next to her brother Caleb. Caleb is older by three months but they’re both sixteen. Clara offers me a small smile which I return, “Are you nervous?” She whispers as Crassus takes the stage. I can’t seem to hide the truth from the girl I’ve spent the majority of my life with, “I am.” I’m going to miss Clara. 

꧁ ꧂

Names are called out and it feels like an eternity before it’s my turn. Crassus doled out the basic speech about how we get to choose for ourselves and how this is our chance to make a difference. “Faction before blood,” he had said before the Ceremony began. I repeated those words with everyone else in the room but couldn’t help but wonder if everyone actually meant them. 

Lots of children chose the Faction they originated from and it led me to really start considering my options.

There’s Amity, the Peaceful. They’re all about kindness. They often dress in bright colors and are always singing and holding hands. They’re harmonious people who provide most of our fresh produce. They’re always outside. 

There’s Candor, the Honest. They’re all about being brutally honest. They always wear black and white, always wanting to see things for what they truly are. Their leaders are among the more trusted in our city due to the fact that they’re simply the most honest. Their kids never hold back from sharing their opinions. 

There’s Dauntless, the Brave. They’re all about bravery. They wear black and have piercings and tattoos all over their bodies. To get to school, their children jump from a moving train every day. They’re our protectors and I think they’re admirable. 

There’s Erudite, the Intelligent. They’re all about knowledge. They often wear blue and most of them wear glasses even though I’m sure they can see without them. They’re always reading something, seeking knowledge. Volumina Gaul is from Erudite. 

I don’t know what to choose. Where to go. 

Caleb’s name is called and he shoots his sister a smile before standing up and making his way to the stage. There are five bowls on the stage, one for each Faction. Once you cut your hand, you squeeze a drop of blood onto the sizzling coals inside the bowl and it’s done. 

I used to have problems with breathing because I would think about the knife, how much it would hurt. Now I prefer it. I need to feel something, to feel pain. To wake up. 

Caleb gets onto the stage and takes the knife from Crassus. He cuts into his palm and I hear Clara take in a deep breath as he approaches the bowls. A gasp fills our section when his blood drops into the Amity bowl. 

Amity cheers and welcomes him in with open arms and hugs. Clara is in shock. I am too. Caleb and Clara have always screamed Abnegation to me. I can’t believe he deviated. Clara stares straight ahead when her name is called next and she doesn’t offer me a smile. I watch her walk onto the stage and cut into her palm.

She chooses Abnegation. 

She’ll have a good life. Marry a kind man and see her parents often. She made the right choice. 

“Soarynn Nightingale.” 

I swallow and my palms feel sweaty but there’s no time to linger. I push myself up from my chair and my entire body is shaking. I nervously climb the stage steps and reach out for the knife Crassus is holding out to me. He gives me a nod and I have to force my nerves down as I turn to face the bowls. The knife doesn’t even hurt, doesn’t phase me. 

I clench my fist and hold it over the Abnegation bowl. I am selfish. 

I can feel the blood pooling around my skin, getting ready to drop. 

When it does, I move my fist over the Dauntless bowl. 

A cheer goes up from the Dauntless section.

A gasp from the Abnegation section.

I am brave. 

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| Divergent x Hunger Games |

[frogofalltime]

day 3

i woke up at midday, due to not going to bed until around 4:30am, but it's okay because i didn't have anything planned except for exam revision

unlike most days where i lie in bed on my phone for an extra hour or even longer after waking up, i got out of bed after only a few minutes !! i didn't even need to use the app that @etherealspacejelly recommended, although i will use it in the future if it becomes necessary.

i had breakfast (even though it was lunch time) and took my medication, then like yesterday i just sat there and did nothing for a while

i got dressed and listened to some music, then realised i was really hungry even though it had only been two hours since i last ate. but then i forgot to eat and just procrastinated for another hour before finally having lunch at 3:30pm because i was in so much pain from the extreme hunger lol

while i was eating my flatmate came in and started talking to me. normally i don't talk much to her because i am autistic and i can't speak to people who im not comfy around. but today i felt more laid back and confident ?? so we actually had a Real Conversation (she was talking about cooking and housework, and i joined in with her complaining about the patriarchy and sexism that is so common in our culture even though it has no root in islam, and stuff like that)

it's good that i'm having regular meals since starting my meds; i usually struggle to eat more than two meals a day, so i'm glad it's getting me to eat better.

then i procrastinated a bit more and finally went to the library to study because i was not getting anything done at home

when i got to the library (around 5:30pm) i was really hungry Again ?? so i ate a snack while revising a lecture, and then took a break before doing the next lecture, which took me like two hours because i kept getting bored and pausing it to message my friends or go on tumblr or whatever lmao. but i eventually got it done, i think being in the library is good because i can't go home until i finish my work, and i want to go home because it's kinda overstimulating in there, so i have motivation to do it.

i drank so so so much water at the library. these meds are making me hella thirsty. yeehaw

unfortunately the weird headache around my eyes was really bad today. it was bad yesterday too but today is worse. i remember this happened when i started antidepressants and then went away after a week or two so im hoping that it won't last long this time either. it's really annoying and adds to the overall feeling of restlessness and overstimulation.

i went home from the library (we are having a huge storm right now so i got completely soaked through in the rain and wind) and immediately got in the shower without procrastinating at all, probably because my clothes were wet and i was cold

then i made some dumplings and ate them with vegetables while watching a youtube video, procrastinated on tumblr again, and am now writing this post before i wash my dishes and go to bed.

overall i had a pretty good day, i finished all my revision for the module i struggle the most with, and i also felt really confident and happy with how i look ?? i had so much gender euphoria and stuff like that ?? which was really nice :D

i don't know if the meds are working yet or if i am just procrastinating less than usual because i am stressed about my exams (i have two this week and one the week after), but i'm glad to be actually getting stuff done for once !!

[astrojulia]

All about Gemini

As people I know, I have family, co-workers, crushes... There's quite a lot on the list. In my humble life before astrology, I swore they were cardinals as Gemini always approached me first and yes, it took a while to record that no, they were mutable LOL. In my experience with these people, they are people with active lives who are doing several things at the same time and who like to talk (and gossip too, but that's ok, where I live it's cultural 😆). However, they are not people I've had contact with for a long time and we always end up moving away as time goes by.

As a general energy, I cannot escape it, but it is that of duality. The angel and the devil, death and life, the yes and the no... Even If in my list of colors of the signs (which are made with the intention of bringing the strength of the sign in your life), I see Gemini like black and white. Simple but effective, it transmits its message effectively. This duality also reminds me of the air itself... we know that it exists and it is proven that it exists... but it is not visible, or smellable (you smell something, but not the AIR itself)... I say this because the occult sciences are ridiculed because they have no concrete proof... and neither is the air. This lack of proof, but still existing, reminds me a lot of Gemini (Am I spacing out 😆).

As always, I need to say that when I write in the post, I need to put what the experts and the most important astrological community say and think, because I am responsible for every word I write, but here I always say that it is just my point of view, my studies and my evolution, because I’m the type of person who always wants to be better the next day. So let me tell you this: for me there is no underdeveloped aspect! For me, the underdeveloped part will always be our “Shadow self” that will appear when we most need to defend ourselves! Underdeveloped is our deepest instinct and we need to look at it as a Digivolution and not a Pokémon evolution (nerd references!!!).

Gemini is known for their agility and quick-wittedness. They are always on their toes and ready to respond to any situation that comes their way. This is a valuable trait to have in a fast-paced, ever-changing world where quick thinking and flexibility are necessary for success. However, their constant alertness can also lead to impatience. Gemini can sometimes become restless and easily bored, always looking for the next exciting thing to capture their attention. This impatience can cause them to jump from one thing to another without fully committing or seeing things through to completion. Exhausting their minds and bodies in this process.

It says it's okay to have multiple talents. You know, in the world of work there are two ends (just like Gemini LOL), the one that says you need to be an expert in one area and the other that you need to know a little bit about everything... I won't go into detail on this subject, but when they say that Gemini never goes deep into anything but does a little bit of everything I don't see it as a negative aspect, their versatility is their individuality, but I won't sugarcoat them, they can be scattered.

They don't take things to heart, as they are more emotionally cool and mental, I'm not saying they don't feel because everyone has feelings and I already made a huge post talking about it... But they take everything more to the "professional" side " of things and not for the emotional and that makes them show in the exterior an aloof and uninvolved personality.

As I mentioned earlier, those born under the Gemini zodiac sign are often friendly and sociable individuals. They have a natural ability to connect with others and are often drawn to situations where they can engage in conversation and communication. However, communication does not only refer to verbal exchanges; it encompasses all forms of expression, including art. Their social nature makes them a social butterfly, and they often enjoy interacting with a wide range of people. They are incessantly talkative and may find it difficult to remain quiet for too long. Despite their talkative nature, Gemini individuals also have a strong listening ear. They are often interested in hearing what others have to say and may have a knack for putting people at ease in social situations… because you know, they are the Mutable Air… they’re receivers.

It can be said that the great love of this sign is freedom, they are an air sign, which has no barriers, and this gives them a natural inclination to explore and move around freely without feeling restricted. Their ruling planet, Mercury, also adds to their need for movement, communication, and change. While this free-spirited nature can be an asset in many ways, it can also make it difficult for Gemini to settle down and commit to a specific path or person. They may find it challenging to stay in one place or focus on a single task for an extended period, preferring instead to keep their options open and maintain their sense of freedom.

Geminis are known for their broad range of interests and their natural curiosity, which often leads them to acquire a vast amount of knowledge on various subjects. They have a sharp intellect and a natural gift for communication, which allows them to express their ideas and thoughts articulately and confidently. However, their wide range of knowledge can sometimes make them appear superficially opinionated. They may hold strong opinions on a variety of subjects, but their opinions may lack depth or nuance due to their tendency to skim the surface of a topic rather than delving deeply into it.

And last but not least, they’ve a light-hearted nature and the ability to infuse a sense of fun and playfulness into many aspects of their lives. They have a youthful energy and a natural curiosity that can make them seem lively and spontaneous, yet this lightheartedness can sometimes border on silliness and immaturity. They may have a tendency to engage in childish or frivolous behavior, which can sometimes make it difficult for others to take them seriously or view them as mature individuals.

So, in other words:

At their best, Gemini can be:

Intelligent: Geminis are naturally curious and have a thirst for knowledge. They are quick learners and have the ability to absorb information rapidly, making them knowledgeable and well-informed individuals.

Versatile: Geminis are adaptable and can easily switch between different roles and situations. They can be chameleons and fit into any environment, which makes them great team players.

Sociable: Geminis are outgoing and love socializing with others. They have an innate ability to connect with people from all walks of life, making them great communicators and excellent networkers.

Humorous: Geminis have a great sense of humor and can always make others laugh. They have a quick wit and can find humor in any situation, which makes them a joy to be around.

Resourceful: Geminis are skilled at manipulating the system to benefit themselves and others. They have a knack for finding creative solutions to problems and can think outside the box when faced with challenges.

At their worst, Gemini can be:

Deceptive: Geminis have a reputation for being two-faced and dishonest. They can present different personas to different people, making it hard to know who they truly are.

Treacherous: Geminis can be disloyal and untrustworthy. They may betray others' trust and use their knowledge and connections for personal gain.

Loud: Geminis can be talkative and sometimes dominate conversations, making it hard for others to get a word in edgewise.

Manipulative: Geminis may act nice to people they normally ignore just before asking for a favor. They can use their charm and wit to manipulate situations and people to their advantage.

Scheming: Geminis may constantly scheme and plan, even if it means backstabbing others. They may talk behind people's backs and use gossip to manipulate others.

As the third sign, Gemini speaks of our first desire to get involved with the other. The first two signs of the zodiac, Aries and Taurus, are associated with individuality, self-discovery, and building a foundation. It is with Gemini that we realize that we are not alone and that we need to express ourselves as well as understand, that's why he is also changeable, because first we listen and join a group and then start to put our own ideas.

We already made it clear that Gemini is the mutable air sign with all the communication parts already said LOL. But I see the air element of Gemini as the thirst to learn, to listen to improve, to also question all the world's problems because they are the ones who receive the information and need to improve it for the next ones.

Gemini individuals are known for their intense curiosity, but this curiosity can sometimes lead to distraction and a lack of focus, which can in turn create feelings of anxiety and self-doubt. However, the key to overcoming these challenges lies in embracing the symbolism of your opposite sign, Sagittarius. By focusing your concentration and attention on your greater goals, and by integrating with the energy of Sagittarius, you can transform any sense of dispersion into a powerful union of forces that will help you achieve your objectives and find meaning in your pursuits, ultimately leading to a reduction in anxiety.

As the ruling planet of Gemini, Mercury's influence can be seen in a number of ways. First and foremost, Mercury inspires Gemini's innate curiosity and love of learning. Those born under this sign are often quick-witted and able to absorb and process new information rapidly. They enjoy exploring new ideas and engaging in intellectual discourse, which can help to satisfy their need for mental stimulation. Mercury is also associated with communication, and as such, Gemini individuals are known for their excellent communication skills. They are often great at expressing themselves verbally and in writing, and are skilled at adapting their communication style to suit a range of different situations and audiences. In addition to these qualities, Mercury is also linked to reason and rationality. This can manifest in Gemini individuals as a tendency towards logical thinking and a desire for clarity and order in their thoughts and ideas. They are often able to see things from multiple perspectives, and are skilled at finding solutions to complex problems.

Now the association with the tarot, the suit of swords is a suit that in my view is kill or die, there is no middle ground, this energy of yes or no is Gemini. As The Magician, you can see all the duality he has, he can be alone as well as have an audience in front of him, he is surrounded by red roses (feminine) as well as white lilies (masculine) and his robes follow the same colors, it connects the high, the divine with the material and all these opposites connect it with a sign. As for The Lovers, I can already say that in the Marseille tarot and in the Rider-Smith-Waite tarot these card meanings are totally different and that is totally Gemini for me, but it talks about choices as well as people, again, the yes and the no.

Gemini men are often seen as charming and charismatic, with a quick wit and a love of conversation. They tend to be outgoing and sociable, and are often skilled at making connections with others. They may have a tendency to be restless or easily bored, and may enjoy pursuing multiple interests or hobbies at once.

Gemini women, on the other hand, may be seen as intelligent and independent, with a strong sense of curiosity and a desire for intellectual stimulation. They may be skilled at communication and may enjoy engaging in debates or discussions with others. Like Gemini men, they may also have a tendency to be restless or easily bored, and may benefit from pursuing multiple interests or hobbies simultaneously.

Sources:

“Os astros sempre nos Acompanham” by Claudia Lisboa

“DEPTH ASTROLOGY: An Astrological Handbook”, Volume 1, by Gargatholil

Servant of the Fates on tumblr

PSD by wildfireresources on deviantart

[wowzah2nd]

The Lioness and her Serpent lover: A forbidden love story (Draco Malfoy x reader)

Midnight Meetings

part 1, part 2, part3, part3.5

Word count:2k

Within Hogwarts many secretes and mysteries were held some solved and discovered. The castle may hold many secretes but within those wall were student holding their very own secrets. Y/N potter being one of them holding a secret that would shock not only her brother and friends but the whole school it self. What is that secret you may ask well. She was dating non-other the Slytherin prince Draco Malfoy

Under the cloak of darkness, Y/N and Draco found solace in secret midnight meetings by the Black Lake. The stars bore witness to their whispered confessions and stolen kisses, hidden from the prying eyes of the wizarding world.

Later that evening Draco and I decided to meet up near the black lake. We hadn't seen each other since last year and I had missed him so much as I was making my way down from the girls' dorms. I noticed that people were awake so I decided to wait it out till they went to bed. I wasn’t too worried about them coming this way since it sounded like there were only two boys away. But as i was listening i realised it was harry and ron talking curious i decided to inch a bit closer to listen in on their conversation.

Harry: I hate that she seems to always be around him. She says she's just being nice but i don't know i feel like there's more there

Ron: I don't know mate maybe your reading way too much into i mean she's your sister there's no way he would go near her let alone like her

Harry: It give him more of a reason too since she is my sister i bet he’s only nice to her to get under my skin 

Thats ade me a bit angry how could he say that his only being nice to me to get under his skin how self centred is he

Ron: No way mate you give him too much credit to be thinking like that 

Harry: But what if he is what if he just starts out being nice to her, then he starts being friends with her to get closer then boom tries to date her he knows that would piss me off the most 

Ron: I mean he could but come on man Y/N is a nice person she's nice to everyone even every single slytherin house she a literal angel mate

That was a very nice thing of ron to say about it glad his my friend to 

Harry: Well *scoff* Either way i aint letting that happen if he ever gets near her when he doesn't need to be i'm gonna stop it right then and here he ain't getting any closer then he needs to be. 

Ron: Alright mate but I really think you shouldn’t  meddle in her life you see how she gets. One time I told her to slow down eating and she glared at me as if she was going to murder me if I didn't shut up. She didn't physically hit me but man i felt my soul leave my body imagine doing something even worse than that i think you'd end up dead in a ditch somewhere

Harry: Well i dont care shes the only remaining family i have to protect her no matter what

Ron: Your funeral man better hope she doesn’t find out. Let head to bed now i'm pretty tired 

Harry:y eah your right 

As they got up to head to bed i could feel my anger bubbling to the surface but i had to stop my self or else id get caught as soon as they reached the top i bolted out of the common room straight for the lake i nearly got caught by filch but finally made it to the lake

Y/N: i am so sorry for being late my brother and ron were in the common room and i couldn't get past them till they left

Your groaned thinking about the conversation they had how dare harry try to control you life even if you weren secretly dating Draco you can be nice or be friends with anyone 

Draco: its okay but i'm sensing that's not the only reason your seething with anger 

He chuckled i swear if i didn't love him so much i push him into the lake

Y/N: You're not wrong about that, get this harry is planning to keep you away from me by any means necessary and does want you around me unless needed like class. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT.

Draco : I can and i can't really blame him i do bully him and his friends 

Y/N: don't agree with him plus you've been toning it down, which again thank you for that it was really nice of you to do

Draco: anything for you my love plus I rather you happy with me then angry, you angry is scary

I looked at him shock  what the heck is he being for really right now 

Y/N: that's exactly what ron said when he warned harry, am I that scary

Draco looked worried and scared to answer my question, he didn't even need to answer anymore i could see the answer on his face 

Y/N; oh my god im scary i thought i wasn’t im nice, how can i be scary but nice

Draco laughed at my statement as if what i said was the funniest thing in the world 

Draco; love your the most kind and caring person in the world and when you like that you look so sweet and innocent but when someone crosses you which is rarely your looks could literally kills someone no joke i mean

I stared at him shock what the fuck i mouthed at him unable to get the words out at that he chuckled

Draco: its true pls i've seen it with my own eye when a slytherin from a year above us was bullying a hufflepuff you came rushing in blazing a path behind you and let me say i've never seen someone and scared as that guy trust me and everyone around wouldn't wanna be at the receiving end

I was in  shock, people were that scared of me. That is why the slytherin’s started being nice to me. I thought that was because of Draco but apparently not. 

Y/N I don't know if i should be offended or proud of myself 

I gave a nervous laugh 

Draco: proud cause of you that hufflepuff wasn’t bullied anymore you really help her out 

At the thought of helping someone else it really made me happy and not feel too guilty at scaring people

I leaned my head onto Draco shoulder the leaked really looked beautiful tonight no clouds so the moon was in full view as well as the stars i never wanted this to end 

The i heard bushes rustling 

Y/N: did you hear that 

Draco: yeah i did

He got up from where we were sitting pulling me to stand behind before yelling towards the bush

Draco: Who's there? Come out we know your there 

Draco pulls out his wand pointing it in the direction of the sound. I did the same waiting for whoever was out there to reveal themselves. The wind started to pick up blowing stronger  creating more sound causing me and Draco to tense but then the rustling started again getting closer and closer till..

Y/N: oh thank god its just a dog

It was a cute black dog can’t believe a dog got us all riled up i ended up giggling at the thought

Draco sighed in relief 

draco : glad it was just a dog and not an intruder 

Y/N: me too

I start to walk towards the dog wanting to pet it but Draco grab my hand to stop me

Draco: Hey we don't know this dog what if they have rabies and hurts you

Y/N: don't worry Draco it's a good dog look

The dog started to approach me and sniff my hand, once knowing i wasn't a danger it got up and jumped on me try to lick my face

Y/N: hey stop that 

I laughed at the situation but Draco was still wary of the dog

Draco: oi get off her you annoying dog you're ruining our date 

The dog stopped licking my face then turned to Draco giving him a growl the dog did not like that

Y/N: hey don't growl at him his just trying to protect me and you

I look towards Draco and he looked surprised that i was reprimanding him 

Y/N: don't be mean to the dog his just being friendly aren't you cutie 

The dog stopped growling at Draco and turned back to me looking happy again even wagging his tale 

Draco let out a sigh

Draco: well he seems like he likes you and seems like i'm not gonna win this so ill let it go 

You look at Draco thankfully you always loved animals especially dogs since you were a kid see people taking their dogs on walk and always wishes you had your own fluffy friend

Not that you forgot about you owl O/N she was a sweet bird and will always have number 1 spot in your heart right next to Draco 

You ended up laugh out loud again catching Draco attention 

Draco: Hey what are you laughing about aye 

He asked with a huge smile on his face 

Y/N: oh nothing don’t you worry your pretty little head

He gasped in offence jokingly 

Draco: i can not believe i own girlfriend would hide a secret from me how could you i am deeply wounded

He then turned away from folding his arms like a child throwing a tantrum

I stopped patting the cute black dog and stood up making my way towards Draco still facing away from me 

Y/N: im sorry darling did i hurt you feelings

With a huff he replied

Draco: yes very hurt why would you keep anything from me you loving and amazing boyfriend

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic and fact outburst 

Y/N: how can i make it up to you then 

This tip i tried to make him look at me by trying to make eye contact but he would keep moving 

Draco: you can't do anything i so oh so deeply hurt

He was enjoying this way to much i swear ill get him back for this 

Y/N: would you forgive me if i gave you a kiss

That got him to relax his shoulders seeing that i was winning i decided to go for the kill shot

Y/N: How about a kiss on the lips maybe would that make you forgive 

At that statement he turn around so fact and grabbed me by the waste and gave me a loving but passionate kiss

I put my hands on his cheek to try and deepen the kiss but was rudely interrupted by a loud bark

Y/N: what is wrong with you why are you so mad that his kissing me hmmm

The dog just sat their innocently as if to say i didn't do anything after we stopped kissing i had realised we were out later then we intended 

Y/N: i think we should back into the castle its getting late i dont want you getting in trouble 

Draco: don't worry about me plus i rather you not get in trouble you know how your brother is 

Y/N: your absolutely right about that his such a git  

Draco: i knew that from day one sooo

I laughed thinking of all the time the two fought. They were both so childish at times.

Draco: so can i walk my beautiful Lioness back to her house or will you deny such an honour

He looked at me pleadingly even though he knew i say yes 

Y/N: Of course you can my handsome serpent prince 

I patted the dog once last time before walking backing to Draco ready to leave the lake and back to the castle 

Draco: lead the way princess

I held onto Draco's hand pulling him along with me 

Y/N: not without my prince of course 

At the we laughed today may not have started the best but it ended in the nest way possible 

Being with the one i loved 

[agoobersretreat]

"Ka! You would think of me as a discourteous brute incapable of communicating with those supposedly 'underneath' me? I suppose it's the impression I've embedded in you thus far, therefore the blame can't solely be directed toward your person. Hrmph."

Shinobu threw her hands off of Miq's cheeks as she straightened her back toward the air, grasping her waist with one of them and wafting her hair with the air, flinging its locks through the air and flashing a portion of her visage for a brief moment before they fluttered back in front of it along with the strands of a single black ribbon. The swayed arm was then posed to the side of her slightly undulated chest. where it bore its 'claws' underneath her long, wrinkled gloves. Her crimson dress streaked in front of Miq's face following the twirl, possibly offering her a glimpse of the black hosiery that enveloped her lengthy, chubby legs… And a notable batch of bare skin that lied atop of them. The blonde vampire puffed her chest forward, allowing them to strike into the air with a few bobs upon her chestpiece while she tilted her head down to the human beside her, a sneer rapidly slashing etching itself across her features.

"Then it shall be known that I, Shinobu Oshino, am squarely above those that wish to pose a direct threat toward the unafflicted, those who retain the vivacity necessary to live to their complete, undeterred satisfaction. I never deigned to carelessly deprive an individual of the bond they hold with their vitality for the purpose of temporarily providing amusement to myself. I instead choose to converse with those who find my complete being to tarnish the beliefs they wish to uphold! A feat even the most pathetic of beasts find to be unfeasible!"

"Ahh? No, ma'am, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that some others might, but I appreciate that you-?"

Miq's explanation and train of thought is very derailed as Shinobu makes her flourish and sort of flashes her, whether intentional or not, leaving the peachy-blonde to simply stare up at the other woman. She's as red in the face as nearly as much as Shinobu's own dress is!

It takes a moment for Miq to catch her breath once more, genuinely shocked into breathlessness by the vampiress' beauty and the way she carries and explains herself. It takes another moment for her to realize what was said.

"Oh, ummm, yes! So it shall be known! Huzzah~." The woman giggles sheepishly as she tries to keep her composure. It is very clear she's struggling, but she's doing her best. Good lord, she's trying soooooo hard. Her heart is racing in her chest as she tries to not put her foot in her mouth.

[sd2006]

hiii sam how are you?? thanks for doing all my tag games lol ^_^ also yay i am now going to be calling my period my pon farr forever and ever because that is just too good

IKR! Me and Jim @shatnerihardlyknowher do it all the time. I mainly call it that cause it makes me feel more comfortable adding it to a conversation if necessary! Especially when talking about it in person or in an audio message or smt.

Also, yeah! I'm doing okay, I suppose. I've been watching a lot of stuff recently, I mean, yesterday I watched like 5 movies! Most musicals, I love a good sing-song every-now-and-then. And I'm watching House, still need to finish season 2 of Gravity Falls now that Ford's there (he's my fave twin, or though Stanleys warming up to me more and more!) and I'm trying to get into Bojack Horseman. I'm not sure about that one, I don't very much like the intro music, and it's annoying to have to skip it manually every time.

TLDR: It's been hectic. I'm just bored a lot rn. I do have a new game (well, I borrowed my mum's copy of) Hogwarts Legacy. My character looks so cool! He's the best! Hus name's Sam Crowe (so cute, and kinda charming ngl(though he is supposed to be me so-).)

[reading-stains]

some cool observations I figured out after asking myself what makes a good fanfic

I wanted to randomly talk about how wonderful fanfiction is. Like really. It’s genuinely one of the most wonderful experiences being here has to offer. I’ve been having a really tough time these past few weeks, and the only thing that keeps getting me through a day has been to sit down and read a couple long fics. I’m an avid AO3 reader (don’t you dare suggest any other platform for me for reading, I like the organization okay), which yeah means I don’t read as carefully as the next person but I do read like 90% of the fic so that means something right? Reading a whole 300,000 words a day, while still having time to cook three meals separately, have a two hour tutoring session, and some space to freak out over my AP scores has got to be a superpower.

Anyways, my point is this: fanfiction is fucking amazing. How many ways worlds can come together, how many times characters can fall in love and it doesn’t get boring is just that, fucking amazing. The amount of great material I’ve found has been stellar. And since I’ve had so many hours to waste the past two weeks, my urge for fanfic reading has been consistently there. Which is strange to me because I’ve barely wanted to read, period. Academic, casual, printed, or online for months. But fanfiction is perfectly centered in what I love.

Yet I was thinking how do you make a good fanfic? After all, there’s so much, some of it is just better than the rest. And I figured I’d explore that.

Firstly, there’s the whole charm of fanfiction, since there’s something powerful in having characters you know. I’d like to highlight that it’s entirely possible and true that people can have completely different experiences in the fanfiction world. There’s Y/N and its whole self insert genre, and there’s the whole original characters' situation in universes that are explored within the OG material. Of course there’s a whole sub division of fanfic readers that love it, adore it, write it, and consume it, and who am I to judge? I guess when I say good fanfiction in this post, it’s about how good character based fanfiction works out. Because in my eyes, good fanfiction challenges the framing of a character, and works to develop a tangible change in both internal and external measures. For example, I was reading this two part (not-yet-fully-completed-but-doesn’t-really-end-in-a-cliffhanger-so-it’s-okay-as-someone-that-doesn’t-like-reading-uncomplete-stuff-I-give-the-green-light) Spideypool fic where the ship mainly worked as an empowering device for the story of Peter Parker (spoilers guys, he’s Spider-Man) finding connection, with his boss (it’s Harry Osborn :o), with his fellow superheroes, with his dying aunt, with his new boyfriend, and finally, with himself. The fic works with multiple characters to develop the plot. Good character based fanfiction in this case revolves about the multiple relationships developed between said explored characters. Because characters are fundamentally different from the source material, writing them and giving them needs and actions that feel indebted to the original want of the characters and balancing their choice from said wants is hard. It’s a fine line, tying it all up. Developing something independent from the original material to some extent, from a possibly canon compliant conversation to a whole different universe, and using that independence to further an enrichment of a world or character is necessary. Otherwise, stories bring themselves to a stalemate. Otherwise, stories bring themselves to lack character and connection to the reader. 

Meanwhile, in I Was Screaming Your Name Through The Radio (a musician!au Soukoku fic) works with incredible storytelling design, using a past and present narrative as well as work with the characters' feelings and journeys with the description of music and their lyrics. Good fanfiction, here, uses positively impacting narrative tools to develop a good, tightly done story. In the fic, the development of falling in love, betrayal, heartbreak, and healing are explored. The way the characters connect, disconnect, and reconnect is just amazing. And the way that connection or lack thereof is explored works well with the narrative style of story. Two POVs, each having two time spaces. These POVs worked around the release date of Corruption, the fictional song the two main characters created together in the fic. The interaction between time settings allowed to further explore the characters’ memories and experiences wholly. It was a better choice than to write linearly. Much more entertaining as well. This is good fanfiction, using the narrative to explore and enrich once again the story. 

Finally, there’s the greatest, most important aspect for a good fic. A great story. I wanted to highlight my first auditive fanfic in my life, and the only author I’ve been so unquestionably loyal to since I first heard her story: Mira Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction on YouTube has forever been feeding me with rich stories, great jokes, and heartbreaking tears. What A Catch works as a creative outlet of all the powerful characters and their archetypes, and applies both a challenging reframe of a character and great narrative control. The story begins with all the main characters of the series as adults, in a wedding, unaware of the twisted memories that Hawkmoth has influenced. The story develops and explores something further than the previous two discussed factors. Before getting to that though, I want to clear up, I love romance fanfiction. It’s what I read 99.9% of the time. But I also enjoy stories that further the relationship not just with internal plot devices. The story of Marinette and Adrien is a long one, especially in the real world when the show’s been airing since 2015. However, there’s a magic in exploring something outside situations while adapting the narrative to continue the story already explored. Developing mayhem, confusion, stakes, as well as creating character growth within the flaws and victories that come with the challenges set in a fanfiction is important. Essential. Otherwise, fanfics turn into retellings, lightly chipping away the power of a story and beginning to re-make something already done. Archetypes are tools to work on choices, wants, and needs of a plot device. Characters breathe and feel with their own choices, wants, and needs along said plot. And stories? They make characters and feelings and experiences simply real.

In conclusion, what makes good fanfiction? In my humble opinion, it brings the following things. As expressed previously, first of all comes the challenging reframing of a character where depth is furthered or a new role is given. Consequently, the character keeps its original charm and familiarity while still developing a growth within the story and itself. Secondly, there’s the usage of palpable narrative control. Using narrative and literary devices to explore a story creates a better execution to the plot and the whole experience of the tale being told. Additionally, I’d like to plug in here that this requires good grammar and developed vocabulary (this doesn’t mean you need to be wordy or overwhelmingly poetic, just enjoyably readable). Thirdly, there’s the banger. The true reason stories can be done over and over again: they’re not being done over and over again. A good fanfic tells something new, explores something better, explains something different. A good fanfic has originality in its fundamental magic. For something to genuinely work as a banger in my book, you have to tell something I haven’t heard before. Something that will capture the reader. You can read a hundred coffee shop AUs, but did all of them make you feel the same, did all of them make you taste the need for more? Probably not. Because some of them will have something more than the fundamental establishment of the AU. Because there’s something new under the surface of the plot. I’ve listed three very different fanfics. One was clearly driven in canon spaces, another in a completely alternative universe, and the final one works after the culmination of the work explored in the original material. Fanfiction is endless, and it’s powerful. People may spit on its masterpieces, but we know its beauty. And it is as dashing as the sun, it is as changing as the ocean, and it is perfectly fitting of the puzzle that we’ve created for our comfort, our mind, and our heart.

Thank you for reading this far! 

Happy reading <3 PS: This was the Spideypool fanfic in case anyone was interested