#anyway as usual join a union

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

All the times (twice) I have lost my job or witnessed others lose their jobs (an additional 4+ times) due to “restructuring” or layoffs no one impacted was doing a bad job or had violated any HR policies. This happened both at small firms and global companies. Corporate America sucks - it is just culturally ingrained in Americans that this is the only option.

I'm so sorry that you went through that anon - you're right it fucking sucks.

[bosbas]

Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3

July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?

Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.

Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.

As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.

“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”

“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”

In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.

Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.

And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.

But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”

“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”

 “Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.

“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”

“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.

But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.

“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”

“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.

With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”

“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips.

“I certainly hope so.”

---

As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.

“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”

“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.

“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.

“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.

Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.

“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.

“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”

You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.

Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”

Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.

“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.

Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.

“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”

You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.

“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.

“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.

“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.

“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”

You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.

You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”

“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”

“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.

Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.

“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.

Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.

“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.

Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”

Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.

But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.

“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.

And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.

Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.

But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.

Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.

---

The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.

“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).

“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).

“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).

“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).

That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.

“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)

---

Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.

This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.

Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.

“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.

Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.

Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.

Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.

However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.

“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.

Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”

“Do what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”

Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Why not?” you pressed.

“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.

“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”

“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.

“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”

Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”

“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”

“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”

 “Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”

“In that case, would you like to dance with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.

But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”

With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.

But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?

—

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[taffywabbit]

idk if i'm way off the mark on this, but the way some people are responding to that Guillermo del Toro interview about the decline of studio animation is a bit frustrating to me. specifically the bit where he talks about "emoji animation" and how everything is over-animated and pushed too far and things are rarely allowed to not be ultra-cartoony (y'know, because animation always needs to be marketable to children who are never trusted to have attention spans, right?). like, i think he's generally correct about it! but some folks are taking the wrong message away from that.

i've seen people going off about how "soulless" and "corporate" various recent examples are, and talking about these pieces of media as though they're the result of some kind of personal failing or lack of skill/range on the part of the animators, and it's just like. do people realize that's the only animation you're usually allowed to DO in the industry, unless you get incredibly lucky and land yourself on a project/studio that's unusually cool?

when i was in college for animation it was literally drilled into us nonstop that everything had to be pushed more, that exaggeration was not a guideline or a sometimes-treat but a hard rule that always had to be applied regardless of what was going on, because the viewer couldn't be trusted to pick up on subtlety and we sure as hell couldn't be trusted to convey it. you ever wonder why there's such a specific vibe to a lot of self-directed student films, particularly ones that are focused on character acting/interaction or deep emotions and introspection (especially when there's minimal/no dialogue)? it's because for a lot of young animators, they haven't had the freedom to experiment with realism and subtlety up to that point and they're likely not going to have it again for a while (or at all, unless their career path leads to higher positions where they might have more creative direction over the things they work on. which also becomes a lot less likely if they're anything other than a cishet white dude, for what it's worth).

i would LOVE to see more nuanced, realistic, understated motion and acting in animation. i WANT more characters to be able to express what they're feeling through natural body language and facial cues and for scenes to allow me to breathe instead of spelling everything out in giant bold flashing text all the time. what del Toro wants to see changed in the animation industry sounds great, and i hope others join him in seeking to revamp what modern animation is allowed to be.

but as things currently stand, and as they've stood for a long while now, most artists doing the grunt work on the shows and movies you see are completely at the mercy of corporations and networks who have a vested interest in producing a very specific kind of marketable and cost-efficient media all the time. (and by extension that style is ALSO what's taught in most animation schools, because their job more than anything is to grind you down into a perfect little sweatshop worker who will bend over backwards to meet quotas and get your work approved and not question the higher-ups, even if you have little to no personal investment in the projects you're working on, so that the studios who employ you can maintain their good reputations or whatever)

anyways idk what my point was here, this really just sorta became a rant and my views have undoubtedly been coloured by my own personal experiences (this kinda shit is largely why i dropped out before my last year of animation school, for the record).

i guess just be kind to folks in the animation industry? they've had it fucking rough nonstop for well over a century (the majority of them are still not unionized and there's HUGE pushback against doing so in many places). i assure you they are doing their best to infuse the latest uninspired illumination flick or weird spinoff kids' show with literally any amount of soul they can. you don't have to like the stuff that gets produced by any means! be a hater! i'm certainly not gonna stop you. just remember where these creative decisions come from and why these conditions exist, and consider that when YOU watched something and thought "hmm that could've been done better", you can bet your ass someone actually working on it probably thought the same thing but couldn't do anything about it. these things WILL change as the industry itself improves, but in the meantime folks have to pay their rent, and that usually means doing what they're told and working in a way that will minimize revisions and meet quotas so they can keep their jobs. it sucks, but it is what it is.

[lis-likes-fics]

Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

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[hereisrachel]

Mw3!Makarov x reader dating headcanons

Tws : Nsfw version below the sfw one.

Sfw >

He is way gentler than og Makarov.

Makarov's is more likely to taunt and threaten you than get violent.

Since he wouldn't give two shits about you if he has no deeper connection with you, let's say for the sake of the fic that you were his friend from early childhood or sum

He deeply cared for you since you were a part of his life, platonic or not, he was very protective of you.

(Assuming that his lore wasn't changed) He obviously dragged you into the whole terrorist thing. Living in soviet union times when you both were growing up, you just saw it as something good. So you joined him.

You'd also be friend with Yuri since you know Makarov.

He wouldn't get violent towards you, as his friend and ally, you always agreed with him.

You just did everything he told you, it was enough.

Back to protectiveness, it may be probably the only way he shows affection. He'd touch your cheek gently or play with your hair, but it would be at times when he needs to act good so he can manipulate you.

He knew you since you were a kid, he knew your fears, how to make you do something, how to have you in pocket.

You would probably never notice him manipulating you. "It's for your own good" he would always say, and you believed him.

Since you were a soldier, he was really torn between locking you up and sending you to missions.

He just figured that having you on missions and having you in the field of view, he would be with you everywhere. If someone sees you without him, they're probably about to die, since he is hiding somewhere, waiting to strike if you get too close.

It's hard to call your relationship with him somehow, he treats you like a sister, friend, he loves you very much. But you're not his lover. But you two care about each other, that's all that matters.

His feelings will become more romantic as he starts to get attracted not only to your personality but also your body.

You'd catch yourself thinking about him in sexual manner before he did.

Maybe this is why you were following him so much?

He was an attractive man, and most likely the only one you've met closer in your whole life.

You loved how differently he acted with you and other people. It seemed like there was no differences but you could see it.

How is eyes are soft when he is not talking about murder, how he makes sure you're beside him, if you slept well, if you're not injuried.

You honestly couldn't tell how your first kiss looked like. It just kind of happened?

He was talking to you in the evening, alone, looking deeply into your eyes as he usually did.

You were looking into his eyes longer than he spoke, not saying anything this time.

You glanced at his lips and he smiled gently, you leaned in, closing your eyes and softly kissed his lips.

Yeah basically that.

You both didn't talk about it at all (since your communication is on high level ☠️), it just became a daily thing ig.

He loved touching you, he often hugged you because you loved hugs especially from him. He felt proud that you officialy belonged to him now.

(Nsfw version starts here)

Makarov is not the typa of guy to rush anything but he is not holding back either. He wouldn't initiate sex on the beggining, but later on if he has a needs and he has you now, he will try to smash lmfao

He liked being dominant and don't get me wrong, he likes seeing you in the lead and intimidating other people, being the dominant one overall, but not with him. If you have no interests of dominating him, he'll be flattered that he's the only one you submit to.

He doesn't have a high sex drive, it's usually you initiating it, but he's down whenever you want it anyways.

Pretty much Vanilla, gives you oral, you give him oral, he likes to have you on his desk thought but besides it his fav thing is bedroom and missionary position.

Nothing much more to say on that. He is a casual dude, he has not much sex on mind, murder mostly.

[tangents-within-tangents]

As much as I love sweet headcanons and found family fics about the Batch accepting Echo and supporting him through his adjustment and PTSD/trauma, gotta remember that what we were actually given in canon is this:

Hunter: Me and the boys will tag along anyway, if only to say I told you so. Crosshair: I would have left him for dead too. Besides, he's just another reg. (his rescue was just a mission for them, wouldn't have done it otherwise)

Tech: To be blunt his mind belonged to the Separatists until we unplugged him. We don't really know where his loyalties lie. Rex: Yeah? Well I know. Hunter: Alright Echo what are you trying to pull? Tech: How do we know that's what you're really going to do? Hunter: Well I guess you actually are on our side. (They openly doubt his loyalty even though they saw what he went through, and he already fought alongside them on Skako. Feels kinda victim-blamey to me, and it's odd that it goes straight from this to him joining them, like he had to prove himself worthy first? It's just the opposite of fanon which usually has the Batch be immediately sympathetic/protective and assume the regs would distrust him)

Tech: You are more machine than man, percentage wise at least. Echo, a triple amputee: *sigh* lucky me...

Palpatine: ...the attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed Wrecker: You can say that again! Echo, a physically disabled person:

Echo, who was medically experimented on: *injured and having a panic attack in the medbay* The Batch: *off somewhere joking/betting about if he’s dead*

Tech: -from the Citadel rescue when you... how shall I put this? Wrecker: Blew up!! :D Crosshair: And turned into that Echo: *sigh* yes

Random stranger: *mistakes Echofor a droid* Hunter: *smiles and goes along with it for the credits* Echo, who was SOLD and dehumanized as a pow: *visibly uncomfortable* Hunter: Echo, go to your new owner.

Echo, who was treated like property by the Techno Union: *explains why slavery is wrong* And we are gonna stop it from happening to that kid. Tech: As well as earn a decent amount of credits once the job is complete. Echo: (bitterly) yeah, that too *leaves the room*

Tech: The client being a Separatist is not relevant. Echo, who was imprisoned and tortured by Separatists for over a year: It is to me! Hunter: Forget politics! We're here to do a job.

Tech: This squad existed before Echo was a part of it, and it will exist after.

For the record, yes people can and do joke about their trauma and disabilities

But look at Echo’s reactions/tone/body language in these scenes. It’s downcast sighs and discomfort, while the others are smiling, sneering, or dismissive. And because it's animated that means that every facial expression was intentionally designed.

What really clinches it for me is this moment:

Omega, a child who he just met, comforts him and helps him through his panic attack. But when the Batch, his squad who he's been living with for at least ~6 months, comes into the room he visibly closes himself off and hides his vulnerability :(

There are good moments too (though tbh i can't think of many)

I don't wanna discount that, but that doesn't discount this either. And it's just really weird when you think about it. Like half of these were in the first episode, which is the first time we are actually seeing how these characters interact together as a squad. And this is coming from the "defective" clones who supposedly know what it's like to not fit in? Who offered Echo a place with them specifically because they thought he wouldn't be accepted by others?

As with anything, there are ways we can read into or explain these moments (like honestly 'selling' your brother or betting that your brother died by lunch tray is very accurate sibling energy (And my personal headcanon (to reconcile it for myself bc the show didn't) is that Wrecker was worried about Echo so Crosshair jokingly exaggerated that he was dead and turned it into an argument/bet to distract him (which is also why I think he turns battles into a game/competition with Wrecker)) but Echo is very traumatized and there's a complete lack of consideration there). But that doesn't excuse it nor does it change the fact that this is what was presented to us in the writing. Characters aren't actually people (shocking I know lol), so any of their 'choices' are actually made by a real-life writer. And whether the implications of these moments were fully considered/intended or not, it still portrays the characters and their attitudes/relationships in a certain way.

[chihoshisai]

Double Arrangement

Sabo x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time), fem reader // wc : 2.7k // A/N : Chapter was originally 7k words but has been cut in half because I judged it too long for tumblr, so part four will be longer

Part 3

“Reduce the budget set aside for the ball, and the volume of dishes as well,” you told your elder brother. Having found your way into his office — furnished with more books than furniture, large windows and an overall navy blue color—  without seeing the need of an appointment due to your familial bonds, you watched as he stopped scribbling to give you an imposing look. He seemed to give you a moment to reconsider your words and take them back had they been spoken out of folly, and though you felt intimidated by his silent pressure you maintained your ground.

After some time had passed and he conceded to your determination, he asked rather darkly. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

The pen he had been holding got placed down, and his hands intertwined, signifying he now was according you his full attention. “What is your reasoning behind such a request?”

“I would like for us to take into consideration the likings of my fiance.”

He gave a rather offending scoff. “Does that include for the royal family to appear foolish as well?” His gaze on you remained sharp even while the ridicule of his words sent a puff of shame to your cheeks.

“Surely you jest.”

“Unfortunately dear sister the castle has a certain face and decorum to maintain. Surely your beloved can understand that?” He brought his chin to rest on the back of his joined hands, giving you silent instructions through his face to let the truth reach, and convince, your fiance.

You shook your head, standing your ground. “And as the trendsetter of the kingdom, we can also encourage and set a model for the nobles to follow. One that involves the decrease of abundant waste.” Your desire to appear more than a figurehead reflected not only in your immovable posture, but also through the beating of your heart, wishing to win your plea.

“It will not be easy.”

“Oh please,” you blinked to hide an eyeroll. “We all know everything is mostly for wealth display and no one ever eats that amount of food anyways. You're not powerless either and can make it happen.”

Your brother narrowed his gaze. “What is the reason behind your insistence? Is all well between you and your fiance?”

A pause occurred in which you pursed your lips, memories painting the blank canevas of your mind. “All will be if you do as I ask of you. Might I remind you, the event isn’t only about me after all.”

He sighed while shaking his head, but finally by the look of his untensing shoulders, he seemed to give in. “If we proceed, a valuable reason must be given to convince the nobles of the display.”

At the hearing of his words, you had to suppress your glee. “Say the union between royal and noble isn’t about showing off the wealth of one but balancing both on the same pedestal.”

Your brother mused on the idea for a second. “The family in question might find offense in this,” he gave as a last resort rebuttal.

You thought back on their words and ungrateful behavior towards a gift many would have appreciated and found value in. “Their problem, not mine,” you waved your hand as though their opinion was benign. “I don’t care as long as this will satisfy the one that matters.”

“Fine,” a compromising sigh heaved itself from his lips. “What more do you have in mind?”

You grinned, taking further steps towards his desk to partake in the sharing of your ideas, a slight nerve tingling down your stomach.

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

The castle busied itself beyond usual on the said morning — you were the first child to be engaged, first of the kingdom to soon administer such news to the populace. As such, it holded a rather significant meaning necessitating grand preparations, which you had personally asked to turn down a notch. As you heard the clamor and running steps of staff, the whispers of the maids, it dawned upon you that no one would criticize or point blame in your direction for holding such a downgraded ceremony. And you felt bad for your brother who shouldered the nation on his shoulders, therefore thinking of making it up to him someday.

Modesty was what you envisioned, what brought you to stroll down the gilded corridors of your mansion, towards the location of the event and to witness the fruit of your scheming. A secret meddling in which you had faith your brother would have upheld, considering he had never failed you once in the past. 

It was nearing midday, a time in which preparations were nearing their end and in which your liberty lasted before the excruciating hours of bodily prepping and glamoring for the ball happened. Finding the excitement of a child, you skipped, not without proper respect, over servants and flight of stairs to reach the main floor and ultimately the ballroom. 

What you saw, much in increase to the tying knot of your insides, your heart and your breathing, was… dumbfounding. Defeat was what you felt, while your eyes circled over many rows of yet to be lit chandeliers, falling from the ceiling like golden jewels when you had asked a single one to be placed in the center of the room. Horror choked you, when amidst those were encircled the signature wisteria flowers of the garden, with promises of soft fragrances throughout the night.

The worst of it all, what caused you to feel lightheaded and zydizziness, sharp and ruthless in its provoking your suppress anger, was not the amount of tables set, for they were the same as you instructed, but the lining of the nappe used. Its lace linen, far more detailed and precise, done by handy crafting skills that must have taken an eternity to unjustly paid workers, the bows attached to hang as a need for details and it's overall palette matching the golden beige of the room with subtle lilac flowers to reflect the colors cascading from overhead.

This was, truly was not what was previously agreed upon. After your eyes had analyzed the room with your chest heaving in an anxious way, they scavenged the personnel present for the traitor who had allowed this foolery. 

He was there; your brother — standing further in the midst of the room, his lavish clothing allegorating his importance next to the servants he spoke with, and finding place next to the similar garments of your mother. 

Seeing her, you quelled your rising anger, fearing a stern reprimand and coldly let the sounds of your heels announce your arrival.

“Sister, you're here,” your brother greeted with a well hidden guilty face.

You clenched your jaw, returning politeness through gritted teeths. “Mama. Brother.” 

“How do you like it?” Your mother looked you dead in the eyes, giving you a faint smile, leaving you self-conscious of the feelings that were currently suppressing themselves inside you. She wanted without a doubt for you to feel your happiest and satisfied with things.

“It’s more detailed than I expected,” you gave her a stiff, forced smile. One that you gave whenever you felt empathetic of her feelings.

“Well of course, dear child,” she waved your remark with a shroud hand. “It is a ball, it must look as such. You wouldn't have believed the state of the room when I first got in. It looked quite drab.”

The comment landed on your heart rather bitterly and with no words left to offer, you gave a chuckle. 

“Isn't it about time you went on to prepare yourself?” She pointed out, joining her hands together in a stout manner to look at your attire.

You nodded, refuting her words far from being a possibility. “Before that, could I have a word with his Majesty?” You purposefully called your brother by his title, a silent threat that had not failed to stiffen his shoulders.

“Of course, I will leave you children to it,” your mother gave a slight smile, feeling happy of the celebration no doubt, before she trailed away to further attend to the room's composition.

Once out of earshot, you shot an angry glare at your brother. “This is not what we agreed on,” you whispered viciously, tilting on your heels to face him.

He, making no attempt to show emotions on his face, returned a devoid expression by staring away from your eyes. “As you can see, mother's had a hand in it. There wasn't much I could do once it came to it.”

You pressed your joined palms until a sharp pain prevented you from losing the grip on your temper. “I came to you so this could be avoided.”

“Count yourself lucky sister, this is the best she could do with the budget restriction. And even then, for a ball thrown by the royal family it still falls under the label of simple.” He gave you a look, one that impelled you to shut it and accept facts as they were.

Yet, frustration still swelled inside you like a ripped apple, and as it spread you couldn't stop your tongue from running. “For God's sake, you're the king.” The words left as a high ushered whisper.

“And she's our mother,” he harshly spat in your face, startling you enough to recoil your neck to the back. “I did my part as best I could and you are welcomed,” he heaved a dry sigh to the side. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a list of tasks awaiting me other than dolling myself up for hours.” 

Your elder brother walked past you, exposing you to stand amidst the room, laying bare, bitter and out of options. Refusing to cast suspicion on yourself after your talk, you turned your heels away, making sure not to cause eye contact with another soul in the room and exited its vicinity. 

There was nothing to be done, your brother had been right in the sense that defying your mother would be as easy as seeking immortality. Therefore, with tainted red feelings as companions, you coursed through the palace, your expression grim all the way to your room. Your sole consolation was, perhaps with enough convincing, that Sabo would come to believe you if you claimed to have arranged for things to be otherwise.

If your words were your consolation, you realized, as the door of your chambers trapped you inside with its closing, that you still retained power — no one could enforce an attire on you. Not your brother, nor your mother who had, after many years of proven worth, allowed you the choosing of your gowns at your own discretion. 

As such, when your lady-in-waiting and maids came to fuss over you upon your entering, a smile had found its way on your face. 

But not for long — many times in the past, ever since the first crack of dawn broke through the sky, punctual in its glowing duty, you had been forced, dragged, entailed to sit through a full prepping routine. This time was no different, if only for the hour of the day. By prepping we’re talking massages, haircare and skincare. Every inch of your body, from the thinnest strands of hair to the nails of your toes was touched, handled, with attention and care meticulously.. 

If not for your position requiring for you to be handheld, like the nurturing of a garden by others since birth, you probably would have felt overstimulated — there was no need for you to lift a finger, as you let yourself lay about, giving idle thanks to the perhaps honest compliment of your staff. This time, the endless routine was what bothered you more than feeling the dry, moist or damp hands of your selected personnel. Laying down for a facemask while a pedicure was being done, bathing in a rose and citrus scented bath, sitting for a scalp massage; it never ended nor did you see its necessity. Rather you doubted it, shuddering at mental images you formed of Sabo had you the willpower to tell him of your day. For that reason, it would undoubtedly remain as a hidden fact, even if he did suspect how much water, products and whatnot was used, lost, wasted. 

You couldn't hide the results of the ballroom, but your own self-care was different.

By the time the ginger colors of dusk warmly embraced your room, a reminder to the time to come, you stood; detailed undergarments on your shoulders awaiting for the final piece of clothing to be brought.

“Are you sure about this dress, your highness?” One of your maids asked, holding the item in question in a way that revealed its full length. A satin pastel lilac ankle length dress, detailed with short puff sleeves and golden flower embroidery on its core. It was a simple dress, one that wouldn't entice a second look your way. One unfit for a ball, let alone royalty. 

“Yes. Put it on me please,” you had, with Sabo's taste in mind, chosen it for its modest aspect. And to your eyes, it didn't fail to strike you as pretty. In fact it would, were it worn for another occasion. 

Your maid did as ordered ; slipping the fabric with ease on your body, attaching a simple white pearl necklace decorated with a metallic golden bow,  placing similarly colored Huggies earrings and a brooch attached to the side of your hair.  

After the fitting of lilac heels, your prepping had come to an end, much to your relief and the fragrant way in which your muscles relaxed under your skin despite your growing anxiety. You stood in front of your mirror, turning only your neck to scrutinize the final result — the impersonating of a lowly born noble daughter at best was the image exuded. 

However, it didn't register as such to your mind, instead thinking whether the golden embroidery might have been a notch too much and would displease Sabo. Worse have him criticize your taste. Lost in your musing, you ignored the subtle silent fretting of your maids that lined up in a corner of the room, frankly aware that your current attire far from undermined all you had ever worn.

What came to interrupt your moment, was the knocking on your door. You turned your head momentarily from the mirror, feeling the beat of your heart increase for you knew who stood behind it. “Come,” you commanded loudly.

Seeing your mother enter, you returned your attention to the mirror, her silence broken only by the clacking sound of her heels. Your years of experience told you that the longer it lasted, the angrier she was or worse, the backlash would be.

She circled you like a hawk, her eyes piercing layers of thick skins, edging you to falter. “Is this your way of opposing this mariage?” She asked, having stopped to stand on your left, her gaze ever so burning you.

“I would never dare do such a thing,” you kept your look straight, staring only at yourself in the mirror.

“Frugality has no such place at a ball,” her words, uttered dryly, seemed to have dried along the air entering and exuding from your lungs. 

“Call it simplicity, mama.”

She surprised you, only enough to compel you to look at her from the mirror, by scoffing at your claim. “Simplicity? I will not let you embarrass yourself,” she spoke sternly.

At this, having not found her support, you broke free from the spell of the mirror to face her. “What else can they do but gossip? Let them if they want to,” you spoke briefly of the guests without care. “Is this ball not in honor of my engagement mother? I at least wish to wear what I want,” your chest heaved from the air it had finally found.

“How stubborn you have grown,” she looked you up and down rather pitifully. “Yet still remains a child,” she looked away to step aside to face the servants. “Mount her hair in an updo with more accessories.”

“Mama—”

“It is a command,” she gravely looked at you, much to shroud the voice in your throat. “Add braids to her hair, perhaps it will help salvage the mess,” she ordered towards the staff, before giving you a last look. “Let lessons be learned tonight if necessary.”  

This time, she excused herself completely from the room, the closing of the door resonating like the drums of insecurity that roused deep from your stomach. There was no doubt you had disappointed her, and yet, maybe out of pity or mercy, she had let you do as you pleased; not forcing you to change out your gown. You stared at the door, dreading what would await you beyond its path following the first objective reaction you had received.

“Princess, we must do your hair by order of the Queen Dowager,” one of your servants politely asked of you. 

You nodded, with no better choice but to obey.

[lisenberry]

The sweat on your skin is better than regret on your heart

Part Two of this one and a big thanks to both the anon for suggesting it, and this skin for inspiring it.

Tattoo Artist!Price x F!Reader

CW: alcohol, explicit/suggestive language, breakups, smoking.

You walked into his shop like a blossom falling from a cherry tree.  Bright and billowing in your pastel sundress, but bound to start wilting as soon as you hit the ground.  You weren’t his usual clientele, but he tried not to judge on looks alone.  It was his years of experience that told him it wasn’t a tattoo you were after, but an experience.  A line of demarcation.  A before and an after.

And you’d only come to regret it in the morning.

For the best, he thought.  You probably wanted something small and abstract.  With too many details that would translate poorly on the tiny patch of skin you could conceal easily when you returned home to your boyfriend.  Or your daddy.

“Hey there, rosy cheeks.  You lost?” 

He watched as your easy, confident smile turned guarded as you realized it was only the two of you in the small shop.  You were his last appointment for the day, and he never accepted walk-ins after six.  Most of the tourists were good and bladdered by that point.  It wasn’t worth the money to fight off a group of toffs who couldn’t hold their Peroni and didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“I have an appointment with John?  I emailed earlier?”  Your statements came out more like questions as you nervously busied your hands folding your sunglasses in the darkened room. 

“Right.  I was just about to pop out for a smoke.  Care to join, while you tell me what you’re looking for?”  He pulled a cig down from behind his ear, a bottle of water from the fridge, a half-eaten bag of crisps from the shelf behind his desk.

He notched the first between his lips and handed the rest to you as he ushered you gruffly back through the front door to the bench along the street.

“Well, I was looking for something small.  Like a flower or a bird, maybe?  I found a few ideas on my phone.”  You chugged a strengthening drink of the water, and fished your phone out of your dress pocket, balancing the bag of crisps between your bare knees.

“How long have wanted to get something done?”  He inquired as he lit the end with a quick flip of his lighter and sucked in a long, practiced pull.  The sleeves and chest of his Union Jack t-shirt pulled tight against his sun-ruddied skin.  Not quite tanned, but not burned either.  Weathered.

Strange, you thought.  He didn’t have any visible tattoos.  Most tattoo artists you’d seen were covered from head to toe.  His neck and forearms were clear, at least of ink.  Marred instead by a soft dusting of dark hair and a scattering of angry scars.

“I’ve always thought about it, just never the right time.  My friends were going to come with me, but they backed out.”  You crunched on a handful of crisps and shrugged your shoulders.

“They let you come here all alone?”

“Well, it’s not like I need to be supervised.  I am a full-grown adult,” you grumbled with your mouth full again.  Your belly thanked you for the salty snack as you burned off the last of the day’s wine.

“Rosy darling, I’ve got tattoos older than you.”

It earned him a snorted laugh around your sip of water, as you coughed your amusement.  He was just being facetious, of course.  He wasn’t that old, and you weren’t that young.  Each enough to know better, anyway. 

You had a fiery sweetness that made him feel tight and dried up.  Like once oiled leather left too long in the sun, and he flexed to loosen his tired neck and back from a long day of bending over his work.

“He was supposed to miss me,” you recovered somberly, lost in your own thoughts.

Ah yes, there it was.  He knew he recognized something in the slump of your posture.  The reckless flare in your chest as you marched into his office, like you were fresh from a fight.

Maybe not too young, but certainly too innocent and wounded to be left alone with someone like him.

“Can I tell you a secret, love?”  He blew a short tendril of smoke from his nose, in a way that had you wondering how much of it clung to his mustache.  What it would taste like on his lips.  “You’re not responsible for other people’s choices.  Or their treatment of you.  Learn from it.  Let it go.  And move on.”

“That’s very mature advice.  My friends told me to find a decent cock and ride it until I feel better.” 

It was his turn to choke, this time wheezing out a surprised breath at your candor.  Clearly not that innocent, then. 

His smile made the lines around his eyes deepen in a boyish way.  His cheeks lifted to reveal pink lips and a dimple otherwise hidden just above his beard.  A peek at a row of white, slightly wonky teeth.

Well, shit, you gulped inwardly, noticing his hands as he boldly dipped one into the bag of crisps still perched between your legs. 

He may not have been a bartender or a finance bro, and water and crisps were a far cry from sparkling prosecco.

But he didn’t have any sign of a wedding ring, and you had lost your nerve to get a tattoo.

Stay tuned for Part 3 bringing the smut. I lied. Part Four brings the smut. Part three brings the feelings.

[avocado-writing]

the king and the nanny: ch2

bowser x gn!reader

1.75k words

part 2 of 4

rated: T (for now)

summary: you’re happy with your lot as nanny to the koopalings... until a chance encounter with the king sets your life off in a very different trajectory. this time, you're off on a race.

like what i do? buy me a kofi

You think it will be a while before you really see Bowser again. He is the king after all, he has important duties to see to. More important than you anyway, you tell yourself, resigned.

Imagine your surprise, then, when you walk into the game room and see him on the very beanbag you had him sat on last night, playing a video game with Junior. 

Your name is spread as a chorus as the other Koopalings greet you, causing both Bowser and his youngest son to finally tear their attention away from the screen. Junior cheers and runs towards you as the king fights the unruly seat to get to his feet. 

“Hey, Junior. You busy beating your dad at golf minigames?”

“Sure am!”

“Well, hey now, ‘beating’ is a strong—”

Bowser goes quiet as you scoop Junior up and rest him on your hip. He blinks. 

“You can, uh, pick him up?”

“Of course,” you reply, “I’d have no chance if I couldn’t, would I?”

Bowser stares at your biceps, struck dumb in the moment, and your mind flits to the weight bench you have in your private quarters to train for this job. 

“Huh,” Bowser says. There’s that look in his eyes again. The one that you saw the other night. You can feel yourself getting pretty warm, so you quickly wipe your hair out of your face and turn to the Koopalings, hoping to get a handle on the situation.

“What is everyone doing today?”

“Oh!” Lemmy announces, “Seeing as we’re all here, can we go karting?”

The older kids usually do what they want to, and it generally involves terrorising whoever they can get their hands on, but at this suggestion they all look up.  You purse your lips and pretend to consider. Really; they don’t have to ask your permission to do anything, but it’s nice that they respect you enough to still hold that power. 

“Alright then.”

A cheer goes up throughout the room and the kids start to pick themselves up to leave the room. Junior looks up at his dad. 

“Are you coming too, dad?”

“Oh!” says Bowser, as if he hadn’t considered, “Well, uh…”

And he, the king, looks at you for permission too. You hide your smile of endearance behind one of enthusiasm. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, s— Bowser.”

Bowser lights up, his grin full of teeth and a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. As the kids run ahead, you and Bowser fall into step at the rear. You were worried things would be awkward, considering your… evolving feelings; instead you find yourself lapsing into easy chatter. 

“It’s not that I’m not pleased to see you, your majesty—” because you are, you really are, “—but don’t you have more pressing matters to deal with? Armies and the like?”

“Oh, it’s their union mandated day off, it’s fine.”

It takes a moment for that to register. 

“Union?”

“Yeah. What, you not a part of the union?”

Bowser blinks, genuinely surprised.  

“I didn’t realise there was one.”

“Whoa, you’ve got to join! It’s important that you’re unionised. The union is why we’ve got Taco Tuesday now. I’ll hook you up with the koopa that runs it, he’s a solid dude.”

He slows down when he notices you’ve stopped moving. You’ve been stunned to stillness. 

“What?”

“Nothing! I just… I guess I didn’t expect that sort of organisation to be here.”

“Well, of course,” he drops his voice and moves in close. You know this is realistically because he’s trying to be surreptitious, but the sudden proximity makes your heart skip a beat, “You know there’s thousands of them, right? I’m super strong and whatever but in sheer numbers they could kick my ass.”

He winces and looks around to make sure none of his kids caught him using a bad word, relaxes a bit when he sees he’s gotten away with it. You laugh. You could get used to this side of him. 

“Okay, I’ll check it out.”

The racing room is merely a turn away, and the two of you walk towards the start line of the huge track he’s had built into his castle for his kids to race on. The Koopalings are setting up their karts, and Bowser walks over to his own before hesitating. Just as he turns to ask you something —

“Will you ride with me?” asks Junior, who’s appeared at your feet. He’s doing those big puppy dog eyes, the ones you can’t say no to. 

“Aww, I was gonna ask that,” huffs Wendy. You grin. It’s nice to be so high in demand.

“Next time, Wendy. Promise?”

You keep your promises, so she seems happy with the deal. Junior grabs your hand and excitedly drags you over to his kart where you carefully settle in behind him, careful not to hurt yourself on his spikes. They’re not as sharp as his dad’s but you don’t fancy testing it. Slowly everyone pulls up to the start line. You pat Junior reassuringly on the shoulder. 

“Let’s get 'em, buddy.”

Junior grins and gives you a thumbs up, then gets ready to go.

The lights above you count down and you grip the sides of the kart as Junior revs the engine. When he stamps down on the accelerator the force of it pushes you back into your seat, but you find yourself chuckling breathlessly. God, he’s fast! But he easily takes every corner he comes up against - except for one narrow escape where the sidework scrapes against the barrier and you have to raise your leg up just in time - drifting like it’s a sixth sense. Really, it’s pretty impressive considering his age. 

You take a look around the track. You’re neck-and-neck for third with Bowser, Ludwig and Roy in front. The king catches you looking and grins, accelerating harder and nosing into the lead against your little tag team.

You take that as a challenge.

“Get the box!” you shout, watching a series of rainbow, shining crates beginning to raise onto the track. 

“On it!” Junior replies, skidding the card round another bend and through the power-up. You quickly look down to see what you’ve got - mushroom! Not bad.

“Brace yourself!” 

You watch Junior hold onto the wheel even tighter, then slam your item down. It shatters as you get a violent burst of speed, and a torrent of wild, unrestrained laughter peals from your mouth. You overtake Bowser easily - but with just enough time for you to turn around and poke your tongue out at him. He looks flabbergasted, but then his smile just gets wider.

Ludwig only got banana peels, naturally, so he’s been throwing them over his shoulder like his life depends on it. Junior weaves between them easily but one lands right under Roy’s right wheel, causing him to skid out and fall back a few places. You hear him begin to curse in frustration and you make a note to have a word with him later about that language; right now you have a race to win.

Two-thirds of the way through the course. The finish line isn’t far. The two of you pass through another crate and you find yourself in possession of a green shell. You grip it in your dominant hand and rise unsteadily to your feet.

“Hold steady, kid!” you roar over the noise of the engine, line up Ludwig in your sight, and bowl the shell right at him. It’s a perfect strike and you fist-bump in the air, being slammed back down into your seat as Junior steers to avoid his spinning kart.

You’re in the lead - for a moment. Because then you hear the sound of a motor catching up, close. You look to your side and see Bowser closing the distance, inches from overtaking. His face is set with a determined grimace. He’s putting everything he has into the race and for a moment, just for a moment, you think you see the Bowser his enemies see: terrifying and single-minded. And just for that moment? It scares you.

You’re so preoccupied with staring that you don’t notice hitting another crate, and find a banana peel in your hands. Bowser has one too, and then he looks over to you, ferocious in his desire to win.

He takes in the way you’re looking at him, and his face contorts for a second in an emotion you can’t quite read. 

And then he gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. Kind, gentle. And you realise that no, this is the real Bowser. The dad that races with his kids. The boss that checks his employees look after themselves. 

The good man despite the image he projects.

With a little sigh of resignation, you see him toss the banana forward, and make a show of ‘accidentally’ driving right into it. He spins out, blocking his other kids from going past… and you and Junior cross the finish line first.

Confetti goes off and Junior whoops, jumping up onto his bonnet to celebrate his victory. You quickly come back to the moment. And find yourself grinning, hi-fiving the little dude in victory.

“We did it!” he cheers.

“We sure did! Good driving, kid.”

“Did you see that green shell! I thought you were gonna break Ludwig’s kart in half, it was amazing!”

The others have driven up by now and Wendy throws her remaining mushroom down in frustration.

“No fair! There were two of you against us on our own! We’re going again, no help this time!”

“But Wendy, I thought we were going to team up –” you begin, but hold back a laugh when she replies:

“I’m sorry, maybe next time, but this is a matter of pride. Let’s go!”

The Koopalings all seem to agree and begin to head back to the start line. You watch them with a smile and become aware of a presence behind you.

“Not going again?”

Bowser is watching the kids too, a look of pride in his eyes. 

“No, one race is quite enough for me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your children drive like maniacs.”

He laughs at that, his maw opening wide so you can see all his many, many teeth. You’re not afraid. In fact you’re feeling something else entirely, something you’re not sure that you want to address right now. You try to hide the warmth in your cheeks and hope the king doesn’t notice. 

Oh no. You aren’t just in trouble, you realise.

You really have a crush on the king.

You’re fucked.

taglist: @a-literal-no-name @hatkidwantsyoursoul @candlewitch-cryptic @lurkingsnails @therealnekomari @simp-for-sesshomaru @backyard-bear @tmntenjoyer @decaffeinatedprince @cole-kenxbi @mayapapaya18 @psikidwonder @hurricanepursonafied @panwithnoplan42 @martinys-world @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @my-name-is-milk @travelingtmblelyw33d

[omghallucinations]

ateez cancer moon squad: the moon... has so much power...

k so we know that ateez has a hilarious gemini moon/cancer moon* split, and we've observed the various ways the gemini moons channel their personal chaos brains so now let's get into our cancer moons: seonghwa, wooyoung, mingi, and yeosang. the moon is at home in cancer, so she is. powerful. the moon/mother archetype is not just nurture happy nurture she is also murder angry murder, don't forget!!

*(and jongho, whose moon is either aries or pisces with about an 80:20 likelihood for aries based on his birth date and like... his personality)

cancer moon: feelings are the soup from whence i came :) luke i am ur mother :) i am both a magnificent vessel of compassion who truly understands the cycles of life and the divinity of the moon but also i am a tyrant who can and will do terrible manipulation bc i had a feeling about something and had to survive somehow probably by screaming and screaming and screaming :) negative attention is attention :) if a feeling falls in the woods and no one validates my emotions do i EVEN EXIST????

seonghwa: i am completely ruled by my emotions and subconscious search for security but i pretend i do not see it

wooyoung: sure have a lot of generational curses :) anyway bye :)

yeosang: none of your business (cutely)

mingi: i am completely ruled by my emotions and subconscious search for security and i'm going to make it your problem

cancer moon squad: wow these guys could really radiate 'lunar' as in 'killer werewolf' or 'lunar' as in 'majestic icon of bountiful love illuminating the darkness' looks like gemini moon doesn't have a monopoly on duality!!!

ok listen. seonghwa and wooyoung's moons are crazy. their sections are really long. can't believe i am saying this, but in this area at least mingi and yeosang are normal. kind of.

seonghwa

right off the bat it's clear why seonghwa and wooyoung project cancer moon energy more than mingi or yeosang usually do--wooyoung's moon is up by his mc, and seonghwa is a cancer rising. everything in seonghwa's life is really herded and driven by that moon in cancer energy and his need for emotional security.

cancer moon: i feel safe and happy when i care for others! i need to nurture and to be nurtured :) i can sense unhappiness in ur microexpressions!! let me make u soup :) wait why didn't you make me soup?? >:( i felt the need for soup loudly in your direction why didn't you pick up the hints?? talk about my emotions i shouldn't have to do that it's very clear from my face! and incredible ability to radiate vibes so powerful they fog up the entire building! u don't love me. omg. wait ur yelling at me, u do love me! in the moon decan: extra that :) extra all of that :) crescent moon: u could be anything :) for better or worse :) ur youthful and also kind of tied to the past and ur gonna have to deal with that, but damn girl ur potential!! in the 12th house: my ultra-sensitivity means i can really pick up vibes...omg i'm drowning in the emotions of the world.. ... i need to express them artistically and then be by myself for 5 hours or i am literally gonna ghost everyone and join a monastery i swear to god quincunx neptune: i just do so much sacrifice... all the time... that no one is asking me to do, and yet, in the 7th house: i have no choice but to do this self-sacrifice, because I Think of The Group First, so, again, i don't have to communicate about it or ask if i should, it is obvious, that i must, for the group in aquarius: and it's because of my Higher Understanding and Intelligence About Humanity, don't question me, i know what i'm talking about, again i'm doing this for humanitarian reasons,, that again i do not have to communicate about,

trine south node: my nurturing and empathetic and somewhat self-sacrificing nature can both drag me back into my primordial soup and yet is also the key to my soul learning its lessons???? in the 8th house: union with others is the way to know urself :) subverting my own personal power through relationships to other powerful people or through manipulation worked awesome (??) in my past lives (????) so, in pisces: also, delulu is the solulu!! when in doubt, subsume the self in whatever escapism is convenient :)

seonghwa is truly so wild because so many of his planets are basically unaspected. you can see what happens (1-->2) when i tighten the orbs a little bit and then, with more generous orbs but no minor aspects visible (2-->3).

SO depending on your view, we have an unaspected moon, a yod with neptune and pluto, or a duet with neptune. so. that's fun! they always work together and they do not have to abide by the laws of any country they have diplomatic immunity and they honestly should be arrested they're doing too much! however seonghwa, as the government, can't even see them! is this metaphor getting too convoluted? buds i'm mercury ruled and you can fucking tell, if you didn't like this narrative style i assume you would not have gotten this far in this thing. i am really trying to keep my thoughts in order here but there are so many variables. but let's keep going!! fighting!!

here are the main interpretations:

his moon is unaspected -- the moon is like "baby i'm not even here i'm an illusion" and seonghwa is like yes, true, very true, again i'm very even-keeled and do not have intense emotions at all. meanwhile, everyone around seonghwa is like, uh... the moon is... very obvious? the emperor has no clothes??? you have so many feelings?

his moon and neptune are in a duet -- emotions and escapism are the same thing. not one feeling is had without neptune's heavy hand. lord the empathy is off the charts but so is the ability to ignore anything inconvenient. delulu is the solulu indeed. also other people can see this very clearly, but seonghwa is like what? me???? i'm so practical and grounded. what are u talking about.

with more generous orbs, we can add pluto to complete a yod. pluto has a lot of aspects and a yod is also. a lot!! an even more intense generational lesson. this one is a little bit of a stretch tbh, but it has yodishness in the vibe, i guess.

well! seonghwa can thank his ancestors, because unaspected planets and yods represent a talent or skill or a potential you have but also something your family has been struggling with for generations (usually by repression or overemphasis) and with you, it's finally time to get some shit done. (i have 3 yods, it's not that bad i feel like it often makes you Majestic and Wise but god it ain't easy)

moon, neptune and pluto in a yod: hey girl... ever spent generations suppressing your emotions and dreams and denying your intense personal power, probably? :) time to sort that out :) 12th, 7th and 5th in a yod: should we subsume our identity in the emotions of others and the suffering of the world? or should we subsume our identity in personal relationships? or should we (and this is crazy, i know) express... our identity... creatively? too bad we will never agree on how to go about doing anything! let's bounce around between extremes!

nobody in this dynamic can do anything without arguing with the other planets.

moon in cancer in the 12th house: safety is found in caring for others and being cared for, but in the 12th house i really believe in caring for the world!! my emotions are porous in a way that may be unhealthy! i need to withdraw into solitude, maybe with an intimate partner! neptune in aquarius in the 7th house: not so fast there buddy. ever considered that real people will never live up to your theoretical imagination of who they could be?? the idea of relationships are cute but actual ones, idk, i agree we should definitely withdraw into solitude tho pluto in sagittarius in the 5th house: ew, withdRAW?? safety??? in solitude?? yuck!! like, dwelling on things, becoming obsessive, that sounds great and sign me up, but how can you possibly express yourself creatively and receive many accolades and awards for said creative self-expression in solitude? i don't think so. use your power! express yourself! the drive for transformation through creative expression is so fucking strong in you buddy. and i brought backup! i have like. so many other aspects.

seonghwa i'm so sorry bro you have a lot of shit to unearth and an eternal searching feeling you will have to learn to live with and enjoy! but ur talents are so many!!

unrelated to his moon journey, his aquarius venus is straight up unaspected. like not even arguably, she is completely unaspected, not even to his ascendant or MC. nothing. no wonder seonghwa has no idea why people see him as a unique beautiful fashion icon (venus) who plays with unconventional, out-of-the-box expression (aquarius) and is high drama and powerful (8th house). he literally cannot see his own gift and talent in this area! he is. so empathetic and observant of other people and yet, about himself, god knows.

and. we're not done. we are not done!!! his aries venus, saturn and mercury (retrograde) are conjunct each other, square the ascendant (more themes of identity and conformity), and that's... it? there a duet for 3. a trio? triplets? is this a thing too? i've read three entire books about unaspected planets and it has not come up, just duets, and yet i feel like... i feel like it's pretty much the same thing as a duet but with three so... lord. i gotta move on or i'll spend all day on seonghwa. wild i am telling u. wild.

wooyoung

haha. speaking of generational shit.

we don't know wooyoung's exact time of birth so this is just in the window, but let's run with it. in the time given not that much would shift.

cancer moon: i feel safe and happy when i care for others! i need to nurture and to be nurtured :) i can sense unhappiness in ur microexpressions!! let me make u soup :) wait why didn't you make me soup?? >:( i felt the need for soup loudly in your direction why didn't you pick up the hints?? talk about my emotions i shouldn't have to do that it's very clear from my face! and incredible ability to radiate vibes so powerful they fog up the entire building! omg u don't love me. omg. omg ur yelling at me, u do love me! in the moon decan: extra that :) extra all of that :) in the 10th house: also, i need public attention for my achievements to feel safe! gotta make myself vulnerable on national television! my water moon in the 10th means i gotta get creative and artistic and express emotional truth. also i am a little too attached to societal norms for my own good :/ i've really internalized some stuff emotionally... .. . haha? widely conjunct MC: success and praise = safety. same thing. job is life. i love to nurture (cancer) people i work with (MC, 10th house) and make people feel loved! cancer moon in the 10th conjunct MC: i am intensely sensitive to the minute disapproval of others because that signifies a lack of safety :) quincunx the sun in sagittarius in the 3rd house in the jupiter decan: one prob here bud--ego expression should be done by getting the hell out of here??? and never taking anything seriously for one second??? how do you not know this by now?? chat chat chat but keep it cute and be the first to leave, sound familiar??? also, your career? society? gross. i have ideological concerns. also i'm going to make ur personality larger than life ;) u ready :)

his MC (public identity) is in a yod with his sun (identity) in sagittarius (gotta be ME) in the 3rd house (let's TALK about it i am curious about trying out different things!) and neptune (dreams, illusions, creativity) in aquarius (no. seriously. gotta be me) in the 4th house (uh... have u ever considered ur idyllic dreams of ur perfect childhood might not be... 100%... accurate? lol?) conjunct mars (action, will) in capricorn (no wait i love being #normal i was joking before) in the 4th house (no... seriously... about your childhood memories... let's rethink some of that....... ... were u ever, perhaps, experiencing misguided aggression. .. towards u???? at any point?? ha ha???!).

all of this is pretty interwoven with his moon's aspects, so we'll see some of the same themes repeat.

moon in cancer in the 10th: yeah so like i was saying, expressing emotion publicly to many people is awesome and wholesome and makes me feel great-- square libra ascendant: definitely, love that, like it's great to make everyone like you, totally agree, however, about those darker emotions, idk if that's the vibe necessarily-- venus in the first house in the uranus decan: vibe? dude i love vibes. playing by the rules is silly i don't do that because i'm fun :) and cool :) don't you like me??? you like me right??? i feel alienated somehow even though u like me... .. idk venus conjunct astraea, who is an asteroid and not a super mega one but we'll still talk about it: better cling to past behaviors even if they aren't healthy :) too bad u have a complete inability to see urself the way others see u :) almost like ur always desperately striving for love u already have?? quincunx pluto: knock knock, transformation desire for big changes and unconscious soul safety needs here, i'm gonna play a real big role in ur life! every time you find safety through public approval and your job i'm gonna just wiggle in there and be like, is this enough? and it won't be :) because of me :) in sagittarius: also what you've described doesn't sound like finding security through independent thought and/or running the hell away... which it should, imo, time to go! in the 3rd house: no seriously ever heard of seeking security through gathering information? i wanna talk to everyone and experience everything. that's security! duh! emotions are weird! moon exactly quincunx chiron in sagittarius in the 3rd house: knock knock it's me, childhood trauma!! i'm reeaeaalllly gonna destabilize your emotional foundation possibly because of being a kid who asked questions and said things people were trying to hide?? or about being an independent thinker unable to suppress ur unique self-expression in a conformist society?? idk!! oopsie! lilith, conjunct chiron and also quincunx the moon: hey i'm mostly here to really amplify chiron! u know those wounds? they are real loud. i'm also here to just add. so much energy and potency. to everything around me! and also unconventional expression. :) just in case you weren't already torn between your irrepressible personality and your safety-seeking need to please everyone by conforming! haha! your pain can really drive you towards darker behavior and escapism!! trine hygeia in scorpio in the 2nd, who is an asteroid and not a super mega one but we'll still talk about it: self-esteem and the body are the same, which is a very healthy and normal thought that will never become a problem, also i'm a little too comfortable with harsh action as a way to achieve "health", anyway, much nicer, i have a natural gift for healing others emotionally :) with my words and presence, but also my body :) just kidding! unless... full moon: i'm just gonna sprinkle in some illumination for u, some culmination of a cycle, some need for higher meaning, some searching, some power, some witchery, some fertility as in creation, incredibly strong Pulls from different directions that you're gonna have to reconcile with each other, enjoy!!!

tbh you could also argue wooyoung has another yod between pluto, the moon and saturn... which would be more generational stuff about power/transformation, emotional expression, and whether to or how to break free from societal conditioning, so we are on theme. boy. no wonder seonghwa is like, that is my baby kitten. struggles!

yeosang

yeosang does have two quincunxes from his moon, but they're a little too far apart to make it a true yod however he still vibes with that energy. interestingly he both has some definite past life stuff and a fresh slate of new incarnation cycle energy. also fun, as an aries rising his houses are paired with their own signs, so they are a little more intense in the sign!

cancer moon: i feel safe and happy when i care for others! i need to nurture and to be nurtured :) i can sense unhappiness in ur microexpressions!! let me make u soup :) wait why didn't you make me soup?? >:( i felt the need for soup loudly in your direction why didn't you pick up the hints?? talk about my emotions i shouldn't have to do that it's very clear from my face! and incredible ability to radiate vibes so powerful they fog up the entire building! omg u don't love me. omg. omg ur yelling at me, u do love me! in the moon decan: extra that :) extra all of that :) new moon: omg a whole new incarnation cycle!! so fun!! so fresh!!! plan nothing!! enjoy spontaneity! it's time to explore the world and discover who i am!!! this is so exciting!!! in the 4th house: i need. a stable home. to feel secure!!! god! i've learned to roll with instability throughout the many changes in my life but it is annoying as hell conjunct IC: do NOT look at my feelings i do NOT have them and if i DO they'd be none of ur business! in cancer: my shell will protect me, get out! opposite mc: family and home are real important to my expression of self in the world and how i feel i fit in the fabric of the universe. hey have you ever tried in capricorn: repressing all of your emotions? :) to succeed and find your place in the world?? ruler of the mc saturn in taurus in the 2nd: feel like that subconscious fear of poverty and deprivation could really help you with all that repression, huh, maybe you should work so hard every day all day :) suffering is normal :) square ascendant: hey i'm also here to complicate ur journey for safety and security! your life path and identity is gonna force you to integrate your emotional self and security needs with your overall purpose and that's not gonna be super comfortable for you, sorry buddy!! although i also bless you with an intense intuition and ability to read people, so, you're welcome for the penetrating eyes in aries: welcome to a whole new soul cycle! i'm excited! i'm here! i'm ready to vibe! let's go! ruler of the ascendant mars in libra in the 7th house: mmm... not so fast there... let's not make decisions all at once... or ever? or ever! or if you want to, like, that's fine with me. i can roll with whatever hahaha honestly it's up to you... . idk i don't want to make a decision ok?? mars in the mercury libra decan: i fear... intimacy... why can't we just keep it cute :( keep it chill :( moon quincunx pluto: knock knock, transformation desire for big changes and unconscious soul safety needs here, i'm gonna play a real big role in ur life! in the 9th house in sagittarius: being safe at home is not enough. you gotta develop a personal philosophy, a wider place in the world, a bigger frame to see the world... honestly you should probably run away from people and maybe society so that you can properly protect yourself... quincunx lilith in the 9th: you are so right society does suck and you should feel an innate desire to rebel that is categorically at odds with your cancer moon's desire to stay out of it and your capricorn mc's desire to fit in perfectly with the structures of society..... wow wouldn't it suck if your intense magnetism in your creative and social life (lilith trine venus in leo in the 5th house) naturally drew you to notice the structures of society and the individual... and idk, just spitballing here, what if everyone fell in love with you, idk... moon in cancer: (inside crab shell) anyway

god it is so nice to see someone who is not caught up in a deeply complex generational karmic struggle right now, only the normal generational karmic struggle! i have been writing this thing for hours. yeosang is so brand new! aries rising, new cycle; natal new moon, new cycle. cute. altho, again, lots of personal soul past life stuff he's just on a new journey now and also not tapped in as much to his own family's psychological neuroses.

mingi

we really don't know mingi's birth time at alljk, we do!!! i'm gonna go further into mingi's chart in a future write up but this is the moon.

moon in cancer: i feel safe and happy when i care for others! i need to nurture and to be nurtured :) i can sense unhappiness in ur microexpressions!! let me make u soup :) wait why didn't you make me soup?? >:( i felt the need for soup loudly in your direction why didn't you pick up the hints?? talk about my emotions i shouldn't have to do that it's very clear from my face! and incredible ability to radiate vibes so powerful they fog up the entire building! omg u don't love me. omg. omg ur yelling at me, u do love me! in the pluto decan: but make it sexy. make it passion. make it fuck you a little bit i'll fuck u up. crab got claws balsamic dark moon: here is some karma for u, hey but with karma comes wisdom!!!, you felt different from other people when you were a kid probably not in a good way and you're gonna have to work thru some stuff for closure!! in the 7th house: i need to be in a relationship like yesterday. right now bro. i'm not kidding bro. i am willing to compromise whatever u want ok i swear, i can make it work, just, semisquare venus in virgo in the 8th: yes i crave deep transformative union with another, and the minute i feel this relationship isn't going well i will torpedo my entire emotional health in one second :) trine mars: man fuck that, energy! style! ability to assert yourself! you've got it all! also your emotions feed into your temper and vice versa so maybe be careful there in scorpio: how do u say... depression? constant need to bury urself in the depths of Truth? idk maybe people are lying?? double check. don't trust anyone!! in the 11th house: yeah better be in charge of everyone because that way you know you will accomplish your dreams!! all or nothing bro! make everyone see it your way!! moon in the 7th house: wait but i... trust... everyone?? bro? sextile saturn: no listen. train try hard, then society approves of you, repeat, and when you work hard everyone loves you including authority figures!! you can finally accomplish a societal ideal of masculinity, look how tall you are right??? just hide several pretty important things about yourself! don't worry about it! think about all the success! in taurus: but do it in a chill way, man. like ultimately... we all die. so maybe let's just work in the here-and-now and acquire some soft items and delicious food, that is also success, in the 5th house: that restrictive childhood was not a vibe, but it sure taught me a lot! for example i love scheduling and policing my own creativity and fun and then punishing myself when i don't live up to my own insane standards :) quincunx uranus: i agree with mars and disagree with saturn, just make a bunch of choices and commit to them without thinking at all lol also authority figures are dumb don't trust them in aquarius: hey also, ever wonder if no one understands you quincunx uranus: mmm.. .very good point.... no one does understand me... in the 2nd house: which is awesome. being different is cool. although uh. maybe don't check your bank account. haha. sextile vesta and hygeia in virgo in the 9th, again asteroids and not one of the huge biggie ones but still gonna touch on it: ever got anxiety from ur own perfectionism and harsh life philosophy so hard ur body stopped working? haha. just wondering. i mean u could also find emotional health and healing through good work habits and a commitment to a healthy vision of the future but idk quincunx south node in aquarius: the profound loneliness of life... and past lives... haunts me... in the 2nd house: man having my past lives spent so much time in survival mode sure didn't give them a ton of space for transforming themselves and dealing with their own issues and themes! bummer. good luck to whoever does have to deal with all this mess lol glad that's not me!! north node in the 8th house: :) south node in the 2nd house: ... it is me isn't it north node in the 8th house: :)

[kivaember]

Michigan's Emblem

well a passing observation had me going down a rabbit hole SO JOIN ME ON MY JOURNEY

At a glance, the emblem looks pretty cool alright? But there are some things that leap out at me:

why does ur liger have five legs, michigan

the heraldic style of the liger

the odd placement of the blade for a heraldic style

the liger's positioning

So the leg thing is interesting to me, because in heraldic style, there are three ways that an animal can be positioned: rampant, passant and statant.

(Okay actually I lie there's more than three ways, there's like eight but there's three that's the most common)

Rampant is the one people usually think of first when it comes to heraldry: the animal is standing on its hindlegs, forelegs raised in a clawing motion or reaching out.

Passant and statant, however, is when the animal is on all fours. Passant is when a front leg is held up (much like how Ligertail's fifth leg is), and statant is when all four paws/hooves/whatever are touching the ground. Examples below:

Rampant

Passant

Statant

Now Ligertail is in both Passant and Statant thanks to its five legs. This is interesting because of two things:

Statant postures are more frequent as crests than on charges on shields, which refers to their positioning on the heraldry. So, uh, crest is on the top, and charge is on the middle rightish.

A lion in passant may be called a leopard, because way back when the general rule (for English heralds) was that a passant lion was termed a leopard and a rampant lion was termed a lion.

Actually I'll be a bit more detailed: a lion in passant guardant, that is, its head facing towards the observer, is called a leopard. A lion in passant where its head is facing forwards is called a lion-leopard. (Looks at Liger... Lion-Tiger...)

In an old manuscript called de harudrie, a leopard was considered "borne of an adulterous union between a lioness and a pard" and like a mule incapable of reproducing. So a leopard was considered an appropriate charge for a person either born of adultery or someone that's forbidden to reproduce (like someone who's sworn a vow of chastity). Meanwhile lions traditionally symbolises courage, nobility, strength and valour.

OKAY so we have that quick and dirty and very simplified heraldry info out of the way (for those of you who are more au fait with heraldry feel free to chime in if i got anything wildly wrong), what does this mean for Michigan's five-legged heraldic liger?

Firstly, that it's in both passant and statant comes across as if Michigan is caught between two states, esp combined with Liger which is a Lion-Tiger hybrid. Statant is a posture usually used on crests, and a statant lion is still acknowledged as a lion, but a passant lion ends up being launched into that ambiguous realm of 'leopard' - and the whole implication of being a bastard or chaste. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Michigan making a joke. Maybe he's well-known as a bastard son of someone important, but his Hero of Jupiter title has him vaunted as a respectable figure (thus Crest) and so it's one of those 'widely known secrets no one talks about or acknowledges'.

There probably is some clever heraldic thing that the five legged liger caught between statant and passant means... let the theories flow...

Anyway, there's one other thing too: Ligertail's, er, tail. The way the tail forks and the end tapers into a sword, curled over Liger's back, sort of gives me scorpion vibes. Is it intentional? Who knows. Maybe he wanted to match with the other bug boys, or maybe he thought it looked cool. Anyways, I'm looking at that scorpion-esque tail and going hmmm.

Anyway, this was a fun deep dive. Maybe the fifth leg was just an accident and Michigan kept it because well, lol, it's funny. Or maybe there really is a deep meaning to it all hidden behing obscure heraldry rules..... or even if there isn't, I'm thinking there is one now and no one can stop me.

[nananarc]

incoherent rambling about solas modern au under the cut. Proceed with caution.

Mental exercise: in modern au I imagine solas would be someone who join a union of workers to help fight for human rights. Then he turns out to be from the ultra wealthy or something that flees from inheritance bc he was disillusioned about his world. Like when he was still big ceo or whateve, He helped people of his company to earn their rights and while it was good for sometime and the other ultra wealthy shareholders (read: evanuris) even got some prison time or whatever. But the system still stinks and shits still suck and he left travel around the work without a penny for a while.

A decade or two later he comes back and see things are on fire even worse than he thought and decided to disguise as "just a normal guy" and work for The Union. Inky happens to be the face of it lol insert ur own chara here.

After a major strike was a victory he left without a word, only to come back 2 years later when bumps into Inky on a activism event thing, he reveals he was The CEO™️ or sumthin lol. And he has this plan this radical revolution, to change the system from the ground up but it would mean so many people will lose their jobs and livelihood, at least in the near future.

Gosh it is impossible to make it seems not rich privilege savior complex shit when it comes to real world real people lol.

Anyway he is using his old resources as an heir to push this revolution, probably, for sure, with armed forces too. He funds progressive ngos. He lobby politicians to his favor. He will manipulate media to plant unrest and discontent in the people, and give them the evanuris as target for their frustration. Insert more political schemes here.

It's gonna be a bloody proletarian french revolution again.

How would you as Inky react to this. How would the companions react to this.

Me for once I found it even more conflicted on what to do with him. One reason is because in games, murder is usually a national pastime anyway, and fantasy pixel people's lives doesn't have the same weight as real people existing right in this minute.

Also as a side note when put like this, Solas and Anders do have a lot of similarities. Insert some incoherent thoughts on radisal savior activism here.

Well anyway there are so many holes AND opportunities in this mental exercise but that's why it's an exercise. Will continue to sit on this.

[teecupangel]

What if the assassins were in Doom Eternal?

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Xz8_a47OetM&pp=ygUUZG9vbSBzbGF5ZXIgZ2FtZXBsYXk%3D

I was contemplating if this should be a case of the Assassins meeting Doom Guy during the start of Doom Eternal or go for the Assassins having a very bad time in Mars all by themselves.

I think a full AU would be fun so Imma go with that XD

So, in this case, we’re going for the whole the main ‘past’ protagonists is integrated in the story.

Since we’re going for Doom Eternal instead of Doom (2016), we’re setting this up in Earth that is in the process of being overrun by the demons.

The Brotherhood would be a distant ally of the ARC with the Templars have, surprised, surprised, actually has NOT joined the Union Aerospace Corporation.

Because the Templars do not like the whole ‘yeah, we’re bowing down to demons’ bit.

But the Order of the Ancients does.

They believe they can gain power and the secret of the universe by siding with the demons.

So this is more of a case of the Brotherhood and the Templars having a bit of a… tense alliance to protect what remains of mankind.

And the funny part?

The Templars are the ones in power in ARC.

The story would be focused on Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton. Of course, if this was multichaptered, there would be chapters that focused on other POVs. Anyway, Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton would be part of a three-man squad and focuses on infiltration, sabotaging and assassination. Their main focus is getting as much information as possible to have an idea on what the demons would be planning next (or targeting next).

It’s during one of their missions that they find a sarcophagus that seemed to have been guarded tightly by demons. It opened during the fight and-

We’re bullying Desmond once more because Desmond is the one inside the sarcophagus. And he remembers his life before as Desmond Miles so he recognized the three who ‘saved’ him.

They escort him to Leonardo Da Vinci who is working as a scientist and doctor for the Brotherhood, fascinating by his tales of the Animus and his ancestors. Desmond is surprised to see that Shaun is actually Leonardo’s assistant and he doesn’t recognize Desmond. Nobody does.

The mentor of the Brotherhood who goes by the name Amunet tells the three to keep Desmond with them because he’s good (maybe even better) at freerunning and stealth. Desmond stresses that he’s only good because of his Bleeding Effect and he realized that Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton have a lot of room to grow. It seemed like he had met them during the time when they haven’t yet mastered being an Assassin.

So there’s bonding there and maybe Desmond acting like the unofficial ‘mentor’ of the three (not that anyone acknowledges it)

For the rest of the AC characters…:

Edward is one of the high ranking members of the Brotherhood and serves as a liaison between the Brotherhood and the Templars. He travels using a reinforced light tank called Jackdaw together with his second in command Adéwalé. Adéwalé is more or less the only thing keeping Edward from doing crazy shit that could get them killed.

Aveline is one of the leaders of the Brotherhood’s largest headquarters and is a member of the council together that directly takes orders from the mentor. She’s focused on making sure the Brotherhood has all the supplies they need to fight and survive and she mostly contact other surviving ‘organizations’ to trade with them. She’s close to her stepmother but learning she was a Templar has strained that relationship. They still keep in touch but they don’t talk about anything ‘work related’.

Shao Jun is an Assassin under her instructor, Wang Yangming, and seemed to be friends with Claudia Auditore. Whenever they meet, Ezio acts more like an older brother to her.

Nikolai is actually more of a rogue Assassin with his son and his nephew, Daniel Cross. They don’t talk to the Templars but they would assist the Brotherhood… for a price (usually food and supplies. The Brotherhood keeps telling them they always have a place with them but there are rumors that Nikolai had done something that the Russian Brotherhood didn’t like and had run away with his family before the whole demon invasion happened and that’s why he’s keeping to himself)

Arbaaz has gotten roped in becoming the Frye twins and Jayadeep’s supervisor. He’s part of the council as well and he has no idea how that happened. The death of his close friend Ethan Frye during the invasion has made him a bit protective of the twins.

Speaking of, the twins do not like Arbaaz’s overprotectiveness so they tend to go… their own way whenever they have a mission. Jayadeep gets roped into all of these because he’s worried about them………. Jacob may or may not have some kind of ‘it’s complicated’ romantic entanglement with the leader of the mercenary group known as the Blighters hired by the Templars, Captain Roth.

Arno… well… Arno has his own squad under Bellec’s command (the Assassins in the Unity trailer) and he’s one of the best Assassin in the field. Unfortunately, his relationship with the Templar Élise de la Serre makes some Assassins distrustful of him. The fact that Élise’s father died during the initial wave of the demon invasion because Arno was not able to give him an important report that could have saved his life has complicated their relationship, driving a wedge between them. Some believe Arno became an Assassin to ‘make it up’ to Élise who don’t want to see him. Some believe Arno became an Assassin to spy on the Brotherhood for her. Bellec’s support is one of the few things keeping him safe from those rumors.

Bayek is an Assassin who prefers to check the headquarters and help out. More like a nomad and it’s rumored that the mentor gave him free rein to do whatever he wanted. It seemed he lost his son during the second wave of demon invasion.

Kassandra and Eivor are in charge of their own mercenary group who is more or less allied with both the Templars and the Brotherhood. Alexios is Kassandra’s younger brother who she needs to keep an eye on because he gets to all sort of trouble.

Haytham Kenway is the Grand Master of the Templar Rites and everyone knows he’s Edward Kenway’s prodigal son. The Brotherhood doesn’t like him and his rise in the Order is the main reason why Edward left his seat as a council member of the Brotherhood (his seat is taken by Benedictor who commands two squads led by Aguilar (with María and Mateo) and Callum Lynch (with Lin and Mousa))

Shay Cormac is an Assassin turned Templar who is part of the main force. He works directly for Haytham Kenway and has his own tank named Morrigan. His secretary (sorta) goes by the codename Numbskull.

Maria Thorpe is part of the squad under Robert de Sablé and they serve as the main force against the demon invasion. She doesn’t like the mercenary group the Blighters and think Cesare should not be a leader at all but she keeps her mouth shut because it’s not her place. Robert de Sablé and Altaïr have an ‘if we didn’t have a truce, I would have killed you already’ thing going on.

Basim is… Basim. They know he’s an Assassin but he’s gone dark since before the demons invaded. Some believed he got his hands on a forbidden ‘artifact’ that makes him dangerous. Basim definitely has some kind of connections with the Sentinels and he called Desmond ‘Reader’ when they met. Desmond has no idea what he means by that and Basim seemed both interested in him and disappointed in him.

(Of course, the twist could be that, while we’re focusing on the AC characters here, Doom Guy is actually doing the Doom Eternal canon at the same time and the ending would be about him meeting up with the survivors after taking care of the Icon of Sin to help wipe out the remaining demons)

[reunionatdawn]

My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 3: Claude/Hilda)

Byleth: (His easy smile is striking… But that smile doesn't reach his eyes…)

Claude is a Leo, a fire sign ruled by the Sun. Leo traits include being confident, comfortable being the center of attention, drama-adoring, ambitious, loyal, fiercely protective of their nearest and dearest, generous, luxury-loving, sunny, and big-hearted. Like Edelgard, his goal was to usher in the dawn of a new age as supreme leader.

He bears the Crest of Riegan, which is associated with The Moon arcana. The general meaning of The Moon is that everything is not as it seems. It is also the Major Arcana of intuition. It tells you that something about a situation or person in your life is not what it appears to be, and you need to trust what your instincts are telling you in order to see past this illusion.

Claude: When I first saw you wield the Sword of the Creator, I wanted to use your power to my advantage. I wanted to use you to make my dream of a new world come true. But before long, I realized what I really wanted was to see that new world…with you by my side. I still feel that way, you know. I always will. That's why I have to leave.

Claude was taking advantage of female Byleth's romantic interest in him to achieve his dream. He admitted as much himself in his S-Support. That explained why his Goddess Tower scene was all about his political ambitions and lacked any genuine romantic undertones. Supposedly he fell in love with her somewhere along the way. But something felt off to me. He couldn't even attend Byleth's coronation?

Byleth & Claude After ascending the throne as the first leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan, Byleth sought to rebuild the war-torn towns and villages and to help guide the reformation of the Church of Seiros. After a few months of peace, remnants of the Imperial army joined with those who slither in the dark and marched upon the capital city of Derdriu. The new kingdom lacked the power to repel the invaders, but when defeat seemed imminent, a battle cry rang out from the east. Claude, the newly-crowned King of Almyra, led a mighty army that broke through the rebel forces with ease. This show of solidarity forever altered the course of history, heralding a new age of unity.

If he is paired with Petra, he postpones his return to Almyra for years due to his love. With Lysithea, his love for her compels him to give up the throne entirely. Even when he does return to Byleth like he promised, it's to defeat the remnants of the Imperial army and TWSITD. That earns him the title "King of Unification". But there's nothing in their paired ending to indicate a marital union.

Claude did care about Byleth as more than just a tool. But to me, it felt like the writers were trying to portray that he didn't love her romantically, albeit in a very subtle way. Which I actually found to be a very great idea. He definitely had a reason to marry Byleth for political purposes, considering his dream. And I liked that his reputation as a schemer finally amounted to something in the end after all. Besides, he had more chemistry with Hilda, anyway.

Hilda: It's just a legend, sure…but I prefer to be cautious about such things. One of the guys was pretty handsome, and he came from a good family… But that doesn't really tell you what a person's like on the inside. I want a life partner who's good-hearted and good-looking.

Claude is a very flirty person in general and has a lot of chemistry with most of the girls he can Support with. But he was particularly flirty with Hilda. Even their C-Support was surprisingly sexual. But their connection gradually developed into more than just physical attraction. The tagline for the game was, "Sweet memories twisted by time's cruel hand". Claude has many sweet memories of his childhood and Hilda is the only one who takes an interest in them.

Because of this, she was the only girl he offered to bring home. Claude is usually a very guarded young man who keeps his secrets close to his chest. He was afraid of his Almyran heritage being exposed because he's been the constant victim of racism. While Hilda made the occasional off-hand racist remark (moreso out of ignorance than malice), Claude still offered to introduce her to his family, showing his trust in her character and her ability to be judge people for who they are on the inside, not their heritage.

Holst: But what if the next king of Almyra turns out to be a kind and decent man? What if Hilda even likes him? Claude: Uh, if Hilda wants to marry that hypothetical heartthrob, I'm not gonna stop her. Look, what's all this really about? Holst: Apologies. My imagination ran free for a moment. If that is what Hilda wants, then I will not stand in her way either. Claude: Your imagination's definitely still running there. Holst: I'm just as worried about Hilda's future as I am about Leicester's—maybe even more so. Claude: I completely understand, so let me just say this… I believe that both Leicester's and Hilda's futures are as bright as they can be. All I ask is that you trust me.

Claude and Hilda don't need Byelth to choose the Golden Deer house to get married. Golden Wildfire proves that. Holst approves of their relationship. His A-Support with Claude even foreshadowed the Claude/Hilda paired ending. So, it definitely feels like it's the one Claude ship that's most rooted in "canon".

Hilda: I don't understand why anyone would want to risk their life for someone else. When you die, no matter how you died, it's over. To me, it's more important to enjoy life. We only live once, after all. It's a waste to spend all your time working and being responsible, right?

Hilda was the only character I did not recruit on my AM New Game+. If I had to guess, I'd say she was probably not even gonna be recruitable outside her home route, similar to Dedue and Hubert. I left her behind because I didn't want Claude to be alone. But also because she truly belonged on that bridge in Derdriu defending him. It's the ultimate fulfillment of her character arc, showing how she's changed from a spoiled and lazy girl into a mature woman who will try her best to not let down the people she cares about.

Hilda and Claude were the only lord and retainer I felt comfortable shipping because their differing social status had practically no effect on how they related to each other. Hilda could see through his fake smile because she was just as manipulative, constantly flirting to get people to do things for her. In CF, she died for Claude because she had fun with him and found him sexy, not because it was her duty as a Crest bearer. Claude expected her to run, but she stood her ground.

As a lord, Claude was in the middle. He was ambitious like Edelgard but not quite as ruthless. He shared Dimitri's distaste for war, but would compromise those ideals in pursuit of his goals. What I liked about Hilda as a retainer was that she supported him emotionally, but she also challenged him on his decisions when it was necessary. She questioned whether being king was really what he wanted when he was a natural free spirit at heart.

Claude: You and I may not hold any grudges, but if you look to our history, you'll see it was the Kingdom who tossed us to the wolves first. When our people were fighting for independence from the Empire, Faerghus attacked and conquered Leicester for themselves.

Claude certainly had good intentions, but in the end, he was perhaps a bit too motivated by self-interest. In VW, he realized that, which is why he stepped down in favor of Byleth. In GW, there is a chapter called "The End of the Alliance". Claude becomes king of the Federation and allies with Edelgard. He announces his intention to eliminate the church and invade the Kingdom using historical disputes as a justification, however questionable that may be.

Claude: If you're going to lead Fódlan, then the Alliance lords will follow you. Back in the day, the Alliance split off from the Kingdom. I'm just putting us back together again.

In AM, there is a cutscene called "The End of the Alliance". Claude puts aside all historical animosity and willingly unifies with the Kingdom. Why the change of heart? He admitted he wouldn't do anything unless he had something to gain, but Byleth and Dimitri selflessly came to his rescue. And because of that, he gives his Hero's Relic to Dimitri, something he did not to for Edelgard. Symbolically this gesture is so important because he always thought he needed the power of the relics to realize his dream. But he doesn't.

Claude & Hilda Trusting the affairs to his comrades with whom he had fought, Claude departed for his homeland. While in Fódlan he was no more than a noble, upon returning to his homeland of Almyra, he was a prince of the realm. Having grown strong and mature, he gained recognition among the royal family and eventually wielded influence in national politics. Several years later, the king of Almyra retired, and Claude succeeded to the throne. Simultaneously, a queen was introduced – none other than Hilda. Leveraging her brother's support, she unexpectedly demonstrated diplomatic prowess, contributing to the establishment of diplomatic relations between Almyra and Fódlan. Furthermore, with two consecutive queens from Fódlan, the values of Almyra began to evolve.

In AM, Claude's fate doesn't change much compared to VW. He still goes back to Almyra, presumably with Hilda if she wasn't recruited. So, I don't even think their VW paired ending would be any different in the AM timeline. And their marital union is what will help Claude achieve his dream. He didn't need Byleth, the Hero's Relics, or to become supreme leader. Marrying Hilda opens Fódlan's Locket. This is the only ending where Hilda gets involved in politics instead of making accessories, but it is better for her character development, and I think she'd be happier that way in the end.

[vacantgodling]

I don't remember the actual term for what OOMs do but tell me what weddings/wedding equivalents are like in tcol?

haha no worries! unfortunately this wip has a Lot of acronyms 💀💀 but Ooms are short for "Oracle of MUINENS" and that's exactly what it sounds like; its pronounced "oo-mh" lol. Not to be confused with Oomis, which are short for "Oracle of MIRANKA" the "mi" is the important part lol, and that's pronounced "oo-me" :)

when it comes to weddings... they're called bonding ceremonies. now, overall, bonding ceremonies don't have to be only romantic; the tl;dr version is that in terrae theres 3 types of 'bonds': kinship bonds (so biological, blended or adoptive family), bonds generally (what we would consider romantic ties, marriage, qprs, friendships--literally anything non family can be in this category), and pleasure (which is sex lol. basically to have a bond doesn't mean you have to have sex, and pleasure seeking is pretty fluid even among bonded pairs; its not considering cheating really. unless you're in eros. but that's a convo for another day).

anyway--there's a difference between a capital B Bonding ceremony (aka before the god MIRANKA) or little b bonding ceremonies in front of legal authorities, Oomi, or peers.

for a little b bonding ceremony its kind of no different than a courthouse wedding situation. people will go to their local government entity and register themselves as together, and have an Oomi sanction the bond and then you're on your way. by sanctioning the bond i mean, basically the Oomi gives the go ahead unless they get some divine intervention that says the union shouldn't be allowed for some reason. but that doesn't happen too much At least not with little b bonds. then most people will hold banquets with their families and celebrate in some way; the cultural traditions are something i'm still developing so i don't know all the nuances... YET.

however, when it comes to BIG B BONDS that's different. why? big b bonds have a magical binding component to them. if your Bond is granted before MIRANKA, you are bound for the rest of your life to it except in exonerating circumstances (ie: your partner or friend or kid dies or something happens idk man) and there is a chance that MIRANKA will refuse it. but should he grant it, that means that you are tied for life and will be killed or tormented with misfortune if you break your oath.

Big B Bonds also again aren't restricted to just romance. anyone can bond with anyone for any reason but i would YKNOW STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU NOT or at least think about it a lot bc if you fuck up like.... yikes for you.

there's actually a bonded group of friends in tcol--contingent 5 or the "what could've been" foil for the main characters -> moira, jagoda, kiba, eryn, and karenza. even though moira and jagoda are dating and will eventually have a bonding ceremony/kids/etc, they'll get little b bonded to each other because they're already Big B bonded as a group.

The reason big b bonds have magical components is because when you go to an Oomi and say that you want this, they'll usually assess you to ensure its something all parties want, and then they'll help you draft your prayer to MIRANKA, which states why you want this and the history of the relationship with this person. if MIRANKA accepts your oath, the Oomi will fall into a trance and they will provide you with your Bonded Script (or something i gotta think of what to call it). its basically a prophecy thing stating the rules of your bond, what benefits you get, and any draw backs. the bond for contingent 5 looks like this ->

“your strength is my strength your weakness is my weakness any pain unto you i share your triumphs, your victories your defeats, your shame i will reach my hand out and help you bear it nothing will separate us but the hands of fate for when Cerullius calls one home we all as one will join it”

and saying it as one to the Oomi will cement it in stone before MIRANKA. and it comes with magical benefits! one of the reasons team 5 is so formidable is because of the magical benefits they got from this bond.

so i hope that kind of makes sense? bonds are a newer idea in this world so i don't have all the kinks fully hammered out and with how fist my mind has been whirrling about this lately, i'd say that this could be subject to change.

[francesminos-tt]

Blind!Joff curiouscat prompt fill

1. Joffrey was born blind. King Viserys I decided to betroth him to Daeron.

“You know why the king betrothed you to me?” Joffrey asked Daeron on their wedding night. He was sitting on the bed, clouded pupils looking into the void. The wedding ceremony was small and private, only the couple’s family and a few royal lords presented to witness them exchanging vows. A small banquet was held to celebrate their union. Joffrey let himself be led by his new husband and uncle, to the altar, to the feasting table and finally to their shared bedroom.

“I don’t.” Daeron replied, his voice coming from somewhere in front of Joffrey, “and I have no intention of knowing. But you seem to be determined to enlighten me.”

“Because you are dispensable.” Joffrey said with a laugh. Daeron was right. Joffrey was going to tell him no matter what. At least his husband was not stupid, Joffrey mused.

“Is there a reason why you want to make me hate you?”

Daeron’s words caught Joffrey in surprise. No one told him that his husband had a sharp tongue. Again, Daeron was right. To an extent. Joffrey assumed Daeron didn’t want to marry a useless blind man who couldn’t even ride his own dragon. Joffrey was just making sure. If Daeron did hate him, at least Joffrey proved himself to be as useless as he thought.

“You want people to hate you, don’t you?”

Joffrey felt the mattress sink in next to him, indicating that Daeron had sat on the bed and was dangerously close to him.

“You want people to hate you so you can dwell in your own misery.” Daeron continued, his words sharper than daggers, “you want me to say that I don’t want to marry a blind bastard, that you are a burden, an anomaly in the family, don’t you?”

Why? Why Daeron could speak Joffrey’s mind for him?

“Shut up.” Joffrey said with gritted teeth.

“Sorry to disappoint you, husband.” Daeron’s voice came closer, Joffrey could almost feel his husband’s warm breath on his skin, “but I don’t hate you. You have no idea how long I have waited for this.”

Joffrey felt a hand gently cradled his face, rough fingertips dancing on his cheek, sending chills down his spine.

“I know you will be mine the moment I laid eyes on you.” Daeron leaned in, planting a small kiss on Joffrey’s nose, “you know why the king betrothed us? Because I fought for it. I fought for the right to marry you. I cried so hard and threw the biggest tantrum of my life to fight for you.”

Joffrey blinked as he felt a warmth on his lips. He was blind, so to him, keeping his eyes open when being kissed was perfectly normal. He only saw darkness anyway.

“If only you could see. How beautiful you are.” Daeron wrapped his arms around his little husband, contented that he finally had Joffrey to himself.

All his life, Joffrey had never felt the urge to see, not even once. He had accepted the darkness long ago. But now, now he wanted to be able to see so badly, not to see himself, but to see his husband.

“Let me feel you.” Joffrey whispered, lifting his hands up to cup Daeron’s face.

“Take your time. We have all the time in the world, husband.”

2. Daeron pov when he first meets Joffrey

“I want you to be on your best behavior.” Alicent warned her children. Aegon was clearly not impressed, Helaena’s mind was absent as usual, Aemond grunted, only Daeron gave his mother a small nod.

“Seven help me.” Alicent muttered to herself before standing up, fixing her headpiece and collar, making sure not one single wrinkle could be seen.

“Why are we up this early?” Aegon asked in a small voice.

“Our sister is coming to visit our father.” Aemond replied, “Mother thinks Rhaenyra is plotting something.”

“Mother thinks everyone is plotting something. She even thinks I am plotting against her by skipping my class.” Aegon mused.

“Funny that she thinks you have the brain for it.”

Aemond and Aegon began to bicker with each other. Daeron sighed and rubbed his temple like an old man. He had just turned 8 and joined his brothers in training, but sometimes he thought he was the maturest one among his siblings.

“There’s a butterfly on your shoulder.” Helaena whispered, not looking at Daeron but somehow Daeron knew she was talking to him. But the strange thing was, there was no butterfly or any other kind of bug on Daeron’s heavily embroidered coat.

They met Rhaenyra’s family at the throne room. The crown princess was beautiful as always, belly swollen and a small silver haired child in her arms, her loyal husband, the Rogue Prince, at her side. Jacaerys and Lucerys stood slightly behind her. There was another boy, a few years younger than Daeron, clung to Jacaerys’s side. He kept his head down, small hands grabbing a handful of his brother’s pants. To Daeron’s surprise, there was a small black whelp perched on the boy’s shoulder, spiked tails around his neck. How strange. No one was allowed to bring their dragon to the throne room. That was probably why Queen Alicent looked so pissed.

He must be Rhaenyra’s third son, Joffrey. For some reason, the crown princess had never brought the boy to court, so this was the first time Daeron laid eyes on him. Daeron was immediately enchanted. Joffrey must be such a spoiled menace to bring his dragon to court, but why did he act so innocent?

A knight announced the arrival of the king and everyone turned to the entrance of the room, except for Joffrey. The boy clearly heard the announcement but he looked like he didn’t know where the king was. Jacaerys whispered something in Joffrey’s ear as he guided the boy to turn around. Joffrey finally lifted his head up, and Daeron was struck.

Joffrey’s eyes were a perfect combination of soft brown and light violet, like chocolate cake with lavender icing. There was no light in those beautiful pupils.

Daeron learned later that day that Rhaenyra was seeking a possible betrothal for her blind son Joffrey, ideally a son of the king himself. Queen Alicent was not impressed but Daeron was thrilled. He knew this was his chance.

He started to cry in front of the king and said between hiccups that he didn’t want nephew Joffrey to be married to anyone other than him.

3. Can you write a little porn with Daeron's POV 🥺 I'm a sucker for tender sex

“I am going to touch you now.” Daeron said, his soft voice drowned out by the crackling of the hearth.

Joffrey nodded. He was lying on the bed in just a simple gown, his pale neck and ankles visible in the candle light. Joffrey’s eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, unfocused pupils like a pair of obsidian orbs.

Daeron gently placed his hand on Joffrey’s wrist, moving slowly up to the brunette’s forearm, elbow, arm, shoulder, all the way to his collar bone. Joffrey shivered under his touch, goosebumps forming on his skin.

“Don’t be scared. I am not going to hurt you.” Daeron assured, sliding his hand into the collar of the gown. His fingers danced on Joffrey’s bare chest, feeling the muscles contract under his fingertips.

“I am not scared.” Joffrey replied with shaky voice. His eyes were still wide open, but his breaths quickened, nostrils flaring like he had just come back from a run.

Joffrey didn’t lie. He was not scared, but the sensation of being touched by a stranger was new to him. He was now completely at mercy of someone he didn’t really know. For a blind man like him, lack of vision only enhanced his other senses. Joffrey was extremely sensitive, and Daeron’s gentle touch kept sending chills down his spine. He had to bite his lips to stop himself from moaning.

Daeron was excited to explore Joffrey’s body. Joffrey was just as beautiful as he had imagined, skin pale from all the time he spent inside the castle. So beautiful that the gods decided to take his vision away.

“I am going to kiss you.” Daeron leaned down and stopped inches from Joffrey’s inviting lips.

“On the lips?” Joffrey asked, clearly sensed Daeron’s breath on his lips.

“Yes. That’s how couples kiss.”

“I’ve never been kissed on the lips before.”

“I’m honored to be your first, then.” Daeron smiled and sealed their lips into a tender kiss. He slowly licked Joffrey’s lips, before pushing his tongue into the brunette’s slightly parted lips, invading Joffrey’s mouth and chasing his shy tongue.

Joffrey let out a surprised moan. He had no idea a kiss could make him go numb and melt like a pool of mud. He knew he had to spread his legs and let his alpha have their way, but he didn’t know they had to kiss.

Daeron’s fingertips now moved to Joffrey’s nipple. He circled around the pink bud using his nails before pinching it, making Joffrey jump in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Joffrey hissed, trying to move away.

“Relax. I am just trying to pleasure you.” Daeron grabbed Joffrey’s hip to keep the boy in place, “Do you not like me fiddling with your nipples?”

“I don’t know.” Joffrey replied, embarrassed, “No one touched there before. I am just, surprised.”

“Let me know if you start to feel uncomfortable.” Daeron kissed the boy’s eyelids, feeling the slight tremble of the thick lashes. He began to pinch Joffrey’s nipple again and his other hand slid between the boy’s legs, into the warm wetness that had never knew another one before.

Joffrey whimpered and finally closed his eyes.

4. What if Joffrey somehow got his eye sight back (magic or something like that)

It happened in one ordinary morning. Joffrey woke up in Daeron’s arms, warm and content, evidence of last night’s sex still on his skin. Joffrey had never expected he would enjoy sex, or even get one in his life, but Daeron proved him wrong. Joffrey was very sensitive due to his lack of vision, all his other senses sharper than most people, making him easily overwhelmed. Daeron liked to explore his body, kissing Joffrey’s skin inch by inch as if worshipping a holy relic.

Joffrey stayed absolutely still while waiting for his brain to fully awake. He had woken up earlier than Daeron before, and every time Joffrey would stay in his husband’s arms, his head resting on Daeron’s chest, listening to Daeron’s steady heartbeat. Joffrey didn’t dare moving, for fear of waking his husband unnecessarily. Joffrey had no way of telling whether it was morning or night, since his world was always dark, so he always waited for Daeron to wake up on his own.

Today was different. Joffrey felt something bright on his eyelid, so bright that it hurt his eyes. He blinked, and blinked again, but the brightness was still there.

What was this? Could it be?

Sunlight?

Joffrey sat up abruptly, the familiar darkness had now turned to grey, he could make out some blurry lines in his vision.

Joffrey knew this was not a dream. He had dreamed about him regaining his vision before, but in those dreams, he never actually saw anything. He had no idea what everything looked like. Bed, chairs, curtains, all new and strange for him.

“Joff? What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” Daeron’s familiar voice came from his left side.

Joffrey slowly turned his head to the left. In the blurriness, he saw a young man’s face. Defined eyebrows and a straight nose. Slightly pursed lips. Worried eyes. Features that he had felt numerous times under his fingers.

Joffrey had no idea how a handsome man should look like, but he knew his husband must be one of them.

“Joff?”

“Daeron, I think I can see your face.”

5. 👀 i need to know Joff's family + his husband's family reaction.

His family were thrilled to learn that their poor Joff had miraculously regained his vision. Rhaenyra burst into tears; she always blamed herself for Joff’s blindness. There must have been something wrong in her womb. But now, all those years, her boy could see again. Thank all the gods, old and new, for this miracle. Joff’s brothers were happy too. Jace and Luke were the ones helping Joffrey the most growing up. The brothers were glued at the hip; Jace and Luke always made sure Joffrey didn’t bump into anything. Even Daemon shed a tear or two after learning the news. He had insisted that Joff take dragon rider lessons even though the boy could never actually fly on dragon back. Now all those lessons might just pay off.

In short, everyone was happy except for Daeron. Don’t get him wrong, of course Daeron wanted Joffrey to have his sight back, but he didn’t like the idea of sharing Joff with anyone, including Joffrey’s own family. That was why Daeron stood alone, outside of the exciting crowd around their bed. The curtains were only drawn a creak, letting a small ray of sunlight through. Joff’s eyes were still sensitive so it was better to keep the room dim.

“Mother.” Joffrey tugged Rhaenyra’s sleeve, a habit he had grown to get her attention.

“What is it, Joff?” Rhaenyra kissed her boy’s forehead, her arms still tightly wrapped around him.

“Can I go see the king tomorrow? I am tired.” Joffrey said apologetically.

“Of course. I am so sorry, Joff, we should give some time to process.” Rhaenyra threw some glances at her husband and sons, all of them nodding and getting up to leave.

“I will see you tomorrow, Joff.” Jace waved at his little brother.

“With a lot of lemon cakes.” Luke said cheerfully, drawing a small smile from Joffrey.

“Get some rest, son.” Daemon patted Joffrey’s shoulder before leaving.

Several minutes later, the room finally regained its quietness. The silence stretched for a moment before it was broken by Joffrey.

“Daeron? Will you come to the bed, please?”

Daeron only remained in the room because he had forgotten that Joff could see him now. He had done this before, observing Joff without the boy noticing. It seemed that his fun was now ruined.

“Aren’t you tired?” Daeron walked to the bed, stopping at the edge, looking down at Joffrey.

“I am.” Joffrey lifted his head, soft brown eyes focusing on Daeron. He smiled at his husband and held his arms out. “Will you join me, husband? I can’t sleep without you.”

Now that was something Daeron hadn’t expected. He was so afraid of losing Joff. Joff was a charming young man, well loved by his family, and Daeron was only able to have him because of his blindness. He had to depend on Daeron, but now Joff had gained his vision back, why would he still stay at Daeron’s side?

“I thought I would lose you.” Daeron whispered after taking Joff into his arms.

“To what?” Joff smiled and nuzzled Daeron’s neck. “You are stuck with me now. Too late to get rid of me.”

“Never.”