#at least i can create i suppose !!! if i cannot find softness then i will make it myself! if i cannot find love then i will make it myself!

[piplupod]

and i often get upset with myself for complaining and venting as much as i do, or also for being as anxious as i am, but given the circumstances that I live in, I do think realistically I am being ... incredibly "well-behaved", all things considered. i could be acting so much worse.

but i do still wish i weren't so ... [gestures vaguely at this whole mess] because it's off-putting for people! and understandably so! but i wish i could make friends!

[midnightshard06]

Fictober Day 27: "Let me remind you"

You can check it out on ao3 here if you prefer.

Summary: Super experiences an odd nightmare.

Set in my Chaos Uncontrolled AU

Warnings: Nightmare? I suppose?

Word Count: ~700 words

Super woke with a start. He sat up and glanced wildly around the room. Wait. Why was he in control right now? “Sonic?” Super mentally prodded, but it felt like he was talking to nothing. Ok. This was fine. He could just go find Tails. Yeah. Shakily he stood up.

“Where are you going?” A soft voice seemed to whisper. It sent an involuntary shiver down Super’s spine. “There is no help for you beyond that door…”

Super spun around but saw nothing. “Who the hell is there?” He growled.

“Unimportant… what is important is you.” The voice continued. Super couldn’t seem to pinpoint where it was coming from. “You seem to have forgotten who you are. What you are. Let me remind you.” 

Suddenly Super felt a clawed hand grab his face. Despite his struggles he couldn’t seem to break free. Images flashed in his mind. Memories from the time not long after he’d been created. He didn’t want to see this. He’d been working to move past this. Become his own person. “This is what you are.” The voice growled. “A manifestation of pure negative chaos energy. It’s in your nature.”

Super blinked and was no longer in Sonic’s bedroom. Instead he stood over a trembling Tails. The fox looked badly injured and terrified. No. No this wasn’t right. Super jerked himself back. There was no way he’d hurt Tails. “Ah but it’s in your nature to hurt. To lash out…” The voice purred and the scene shifted. A familiar scene of when Shadow had cornered him in that cave, and then his eventual first chaos blast. When the attack cleared from his vision he was somewhere else. Eggman’s base when he’d been fighting Shadow and his teammates. “Pure chaos cannot be controlled for so long. Only temporarily. It needs to run wild and free, or it will find a way to on its own.” The seven emeralds appeared around him. “You are one side of a coin. The dark to Sonic’s light. To go against that is to upset the balance you were meant to maintain.”

Another blink and Super was standing in Sonic’s room again, the emeralds still lazily circling around him. This was a nightmare. It had to be. He clenched his fists; there was no way he was going to let a nightmare push him around again. “I don’t give a damn what I was meant to do.” He snarled as he glanced at the emeralds. He had no other target at the moment so they’d have to do. “I am my own person. I intend to keep being my own person. Even if it’s hard sometimes.” He relaxed his fists. “Keep your balance yourself. I’ll use my power however I please, and I choose to use it to try and do good.” He pinned his ears back as the emeralds stopped moving. “I at least owe it to Sonic and Tails for giving me a chance to live my own life.” He added, much quieter. “So let me remind you about who I am. I am Super. Being made of pure negative chaos energy, sharing a body with Sonic the hedgehog.” He looked down for a moment as his confidence wavered. With a deep breath he looked up again. “Friend to a small group who’ve all decided against their better judgment to give me a chance. Mortal enemy of Doctor Eggman, and someone who’s just trying to learn about himself. Now leave me the hell alone.”

Silence permeated the room and Super thought that perhaps he’d been wrong about this being a nightmare. “Interesting.” The voice suddenly broke the silence. “You have evolved far beyond intention.” The emeralds vanished and Super found himself waking up properly, in the darkness of the headspace. From what he could tell Sonic was still asleep, but just to feel the other hedgehog’s presence was a comfort. Not that Super intended to admit that any time soon. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared for a long, sleepless night. He’d tell Sonic and Tails about the odd dream tomorrow.

[scoriarose]

How to make an ideal hognose baby bin/quarantine enclosure

First start out with a tupperware container big enough for your hognose. Be sure the lid isn't 'floppy' and stays solidly attached and does not create gaps when you shove up on the edges. Here's the one I used for my babies: Sterilite 6 Quart ClearView LatchTM with Sweet Plum

I used a hot glue gun and ruler to make holes along the lid and along the sides of the warm side.

Since you have a plastic lid you'll need to use a heat mat on the warm side- be sure it is connected to a thermostat so the pad doesn't overheat and burn your reptile. Tape the thermostat probe along the side and at the bottom above where the heat mat will be. I use a Herpstat 4 as I have multiple reptiles, but there are other thermostats available.

If you are quarantining with paper towel, place the sheet down first then fold along the edges as needed. You should not keep your hoggie on just paper towel any longer than absolutely necessary to check for things like ticks/mites/waste. They are a burrowing species and will be absolutely miserable if they cannot dig. When you can add substrate to their baby bin you can use things like aspen or Carefresh.

(My older girl has been upgraded to a bioactive enclosure- be sure to research the proper way to set up bioactive if you go with that as scale rot can be a risk.)

You're going to need a warm and cool hide for your snake. Here's an easy one to make using a takeout container!

Start with opaque typical fast food container. Solid black and not see through makes the snake feel much safer than a semi transparent Tupperware dish. This specific kind I see a lot at Chinese food places- this one had an appetizer in it which is why it is so small. If you don't have anything like this you can probably find one at your local store as an opaque meal prep container or this looks pretty similar: Food Prep Meal Container

Cut a door in the side. Sand or use a soldering iron to go along the edges so it is not sharp. Make a second one exactly the same so that your hognose is choosing the hide based on if if they want to be warm or cool and moist. The warm hide can be used without the lid directly over the substrate, just make sure there is empty room inside for them to enter without having to burrow if they don't want to. When it's feeding time the warm hide can be temporarily flipped over to feed them in, so it's less likely they'll drag their mouse through their substrate.

Put the lid back on the cool moist hide- the lid is now the floor of the hide. You'll need to add moss and ensure it stays moist. The door should be twice a wide/tall as the snake but not much bigger otherwise the moss will dry out very fast. My snake's hide is the size of about 4 of her- with moss in it she is secure but not too cramped. Many snakes also like to slither under the 'lid' of the hide, its like a weighted blanket for them I suppose. It isn't the most beautiful hide in the world, but focus on your snake's comfort FIRST. Once they are happy, and you get to know them and their likes better, you can try introducing a prettier commercial hide and see how they like that before removing this, which is the snake ideal.

Not all moss is equal! Most stuff is dyed hard garbage. THIS is the very best stuff, it's soft, clean, and holds moisture well. Take out a tiny bit and combine with filtered water in a bowl. See how much it expands- this stuff is like spaghetti in water and will expand a LOT. Add a little more moss until it is damp but not dripping and can fill the hide halfway. You can place it in the black part of the designated wet hide, put the clear lid on, then flip it over so the clear part is on the bottom. Now your snake has a very good wet hide that acts as a micro-climate to help them regulate their moisture levels and makes their shedding much easier. This goes on the cool side, a great place to cool off!

Substrate should be at least 5 inches thick! Far too often I see people put just enough to cover the bottom- hognoses need to DIG! I used aspen to create a ramp that she can use to get to the second level of her cool hide. I placed to volcanic (scoria) rocks for her to use as a shedding aid, and treated leaf litter as smell enrichment. The small piece of corkbark she likes to go on either side of and lay on as another enriching part of her enclosure. You can also get reptisafe for your reptile's water to remove things from regular water that could harm your pet. (Do not use distilled water, it lacks necessary minerals needed for their health.)

Please do your best to take care of your snake, as if they aren't happy they can't go out and get the things they need- they rely on you for everything.

They might be just a part of your world, but to them you are their entire world.

[ebaylee422]

Chapter Two: The Trick of Trade

The Emerald Prince and his Sapphire Princess

Aemond X Targ!Reader

Authors Note: sorry this took forever I'm in school rn for the first time since graduating in 2020 and I needed some time. Also I will be spiffing up my blog a bit in the next couple of days to my liking and for it to be more organized.

Summary: Only so much can prepare Lyssa for the weight of her lineage cascading onto her shoulders. The least she can do is protect her cousins from Aegon's bullying, ingrained by his shrew mother Queen Alicent. Not the woman Lyssa once knew, instead she'll look to Rhaenyra and others for those more human connections.

Word Count: 4.5k

Prologue - 1 - 2 - 3

I woke up to the noise of shifting fabrics beyond the cocoon of blankets I had created after yesterday's excitement. The sun glowing through the open balcony my lady-in-waiting Maygen would always open. waking me for the day. It would allow the air to run through my room slowly coaxing my body out of sleep. 

“Morning, Princess. I have set out your training leathers, Ser Harwin has asked for your lesson to be prompt after breakfast. Since you did not eat supper yesterday I’ve sent for your breakfast to be brought here.” Maygen couldn’t be older than my cousin, she was soft from the thick curls pulled back by strong cloth. To the supple nature of her voice when she spoke from her soft tanned skin and wine color lips. I sometimes envied her escape, as well her duties were simplistic in nature as she was only to keep me company, dressed and fed. Maygen would inform me of the delights of the market beyond the keep, and I would tell her the sights and wonders I experienced on dragonback. She’d become more of a friend and comfort than just a serving girl.

“Thank you, Maygen. I suppose no one else is within the dining hall this morning either?” She stopped in her fussing, folding and organizing the papers I’d left amuck on top of my table. She sighed, giving me enough when her shoulders dropped.

“I do not believe it to be your fault Princess. Family is a sensitive structure, I can’t hardly imagine, having the future of the realm on your shoulders as well.” A knock interrupted her, she moved to the doors of my chambers to answer. Hushed whispers were allotted until the door closed once again, Maygen entering with a tray of food.

“I’m starved.” I said as my gaze fell to a rolled paper sealed in red that peaked out of the side of the plate. “What is that?” I sat up completely taking it off the tray, resting my back against the headboard.

“It is from Pentos, Princess.” I opened the letter to find Laena’s penmanship beyond, she must have sent it days ago. 

Dearest Lyssa,

I write to you to ask for your presence in Pentos as we prepare for the birth of my child. If the Kings allow, since Rhaenyra cannot travel for her soon birth as well. I wish to have family by my side, as Baela and Rhaena were so sickly after their birth. We miss you greatly, Baela and Rhaena learn our ancestral tongue from my mine and your father. They are greatly excelling. I hope your study of Maegor may shape your knowledge of our past, so that we may not repeat our mistakes. Soon you will learn of King Jaeherys and your namesake Queen Alysanne. How your parents were betrothed by her wishes, and my mother was passed by for rule of The Seven Kingdoms. I would love to tell you about our family if you decide to join us in Pentos, I will even take you to the street markets here if you wish. Daemon may not say it out loud but I know he misses you and his brother deeply, it is only stubbornness that keeps us here. That and the endless library hall he spends his days and nights in. We hope to follow your reply soon, my love.

Until we see each other, gratefully yours Laena.

I rolled the paper up again when there was a brash knock at my door. Maygen going to answer this time she bows deeply, moving aside as I see someone enter around the corner. “Prince Aemond, my lady.” she called to warn, as he appeared hastily at the foot of my bed. I pulled on my sheets to cover my modesty at his brazen entrance. He held a parcel in his hand, my notebook piled underneath. It must have fallen out of my dress pocket when in the Dragon Pit yesterday.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Aemond says averting his gaze from mine to look out of my balcony open wide. “Are you not cold?”

“No, my Prince.” We did not say a word as he looked about my chamber's. It was uncomfortably silent, he brushed his hair out of his eyes when his mouth opened and closed. Like a fish gasping for breath, now resting to stare at the lumps of my feet underneath the blankets.

“My mother wished me to bring you a salve for your wrists. You also dropped your book in the caves yesterday, I wanted to return it.” He turned, setting both on my vanity, Maygen had set my robe on the edge of the bed, I climbed out of my plush covers to wrap it around myself. Unbenounced to me Aemond watched my movements within the mirror,

“Did you read it?”

“No, I did not have the time with my father berating me for my foolish nativity.” He chuckled without humor, examining the various pins, jewelry and perfumes cluttered on the surface.

“You are foolish,” I tell him with little sympathy titling my head in concern, the fear still bubbled within my nerves. “but the others are cruel. Will you be in yards today?” I ask taking a brush off my vanity, holding my hand out for him to sit. In front of me on the stool, we typically do this after breakfast in the hall. Aemond hated the unruly nature of his hair, white like his Targaryen father but as thick as Alicents auburn ringlets. He preferred to keep it out of his eyes, rolling them with a sigh, he slumped in front of me, hands upon his knees.

“My father wished me to put the whole ordeal behind us,” As he spoke I brushed his hair back, untangling knots he’d not taken care of when washing. 

“You are their senior, your nephews. And Aegon is your brother.”

“Don’t remind me, if it weren’t for our Targaryen features he may only be a street rat.”

“ ‘Mon.” I scold softly, looking for a leather tie behind his head. “Why did you go into the caves?”

“You know why.” He stated deadpan, his eyes looking at the intricate beading along my robe. “You have two dragon’s Lyssa. As my egg lays dormant. It’s not fair-”

“You are a boy. As I was born the first daughter of a man who does not want me. Many things aren’t.” Aemond holds my wrist, stopping the brush within his locks.

“I am a second son, the second son out of four children. Even my little brother was sent to Old Town as a cupbearer. My purpose isn’t known.”

“Then find it yourself.” I say, tying the top half of his hair back out of his violet eyea, walking around him to lay the brush on top of the vanity.

“When you laid claim to Silverwing, what did you do?”

“I saw her on a hill above the caverns of the Dragonmount, her and Vermithor. He took off, she stayed. Unfurling her wings in protest of me standing next to her, yet as soon as my hand touched her scales she yielded and yearned for my touch. Leaving her mate Vermithor to grant me a taste of the skies.”

“While the egg your father picked hatched in the Dragon Pit.” Aemond's voice was chilling as he spoke.

“Yes. I wish everyday that Bronze Tail would have rejected me so you may have a claim of a young dragon Aemond. It is not what the Gods wished-”

“The Gods?” Aemond stands from his seat, pinning me between him and the vanity. Despite being a few inches shorter his demeanor radiates power enough to topple empires. “They continue to test my patience, just as the rest of you do. Wishes and Fantasy will not make me a man.”

“No. It won’t.” I halt his thoughts, puffing my chest to his challenge “You do not scare me Aemond, just like the rest of them you are a mere boy. Yet if you let this anger fester any longer it will consume your heart and mind. Even without a Dragon you might become a man but you will never be one. Good or Bad.” Aemond’s brow creases in doubt, his anger exiting his shaking form like a snuffed out candle. 

“Ñuha mind jorrāelagon naejot sagon kostōba than ñuha prūmia.”

My mind needs to be stronger than my heart.

He whispers.

“Iā kostōba mind emā, kostā borrow ñuha prūmia.  Syt sir”

A strong mind you have, you may borrow my heart. For now.

I run my hand along his arm, the contact sending a shiver through my spine. His eyes finally meeting mine again are filled with the untapped kindness he keeps buried away for Helaena, Alicent, and I. 

“I will meet you in the training yards, ñuha prūmia.”

My heart.

Taking my hand in his, pressing his chapped lips to the first knuckles without breaking his eyes from mine. My head spins, floating in the space like the foam a top a freshly poured cup of mead. Turning on his heel, Aemond leaves out the door he came in, hair tucked back so he may wear his Gambeson comfortability. Aemond wears the opposite color to me, Hightower Green with a three-headed dragon as our shared crest. While his mind is clouded with similar envy, I bleed red for the hope of our shared devotion. Today, however, I will wear the bronze leather of my mother. Aemond's words ring like a melody through my head until I reach the yards. Forgoing everything left in my room but some roasted pheasant with a jug of water for my breakfast. 

My heart

My heart

My heart

ñuha prūmia

My shoulders ache as I push Ser Harwin away perring his blow to my left side, “You’re holding back, this is a dance. Even as a girl you need not be timid with me-” 

“I’m trying!” I huff, disengaging from the open area as he shuffles towards me.

“I am five times your size and even more in strength than all the other men in King's Landing. Be angry if you must Princess, but it is true. Give me a reasonable fight.” Harwin takes my wooden sword and unsheathes his broadsword along his hip, with open palms he hands it to me. I grip the handle with one hand, and the blade sinks to the ground immediately.

“How am I to beat you if I am at every disadvantage?” I heave the sword to waist height, rocking low in my hips staying at the ready. 

“Do not let your enemy see your fears, deceive me. You are smaller and faster, I am heavier on top than bottom watch for my legs. Then make your move, fast with full force.”

“You’re telling me how to defeat you, that’s cheating.” Wiping the sweat off my forehead with the crook on my elbow raised at the ready.

“Do you know why I’m called ‘Breakbones?’, Princess.” I shake my head still keeping distance as we circle each other. “Criston Cole broke my collar within his first tourney as the Queen’s Guard. I fought the rest of the day with my shoulder wrapped tight. You can do much more damage than him.”

“Okay, I’m ready.” With that, he charged to my left side again, I perried the blow, crossing our swords his strength made me bend back at the waist. I twisted the swords, ducking under him, gaining distance.

“You will never be ready, Lyssa. The world will swallow you whole-” He left his legs carelessly separated, pushing with my shoulder. I curved my body from where our blades met side stepping behind him.

"I will take it by Fire and Blood!" I yell, charging him

"You are a girl from a renowned family only." Harwin sees my open shoulder, slicing down on my sword to knock his elbow into my shoulder. I wail in pain, raising the sword again to a generous combo against my mentor. Only there isn't fear. He is laughing. Laughing at my attempts, this spurs on my rage and exhaustion.

“I am a Targaryen! The Seven Kingdoms need us, I am one of the most educated women within them.” Out of the way of his counterattack, I slice at the chains of his knees. He winces and shuffles orward. 

“Is that why Prince Daemon is out adventuring Pentos?” Turning he swings the wooden sword with full force, I wait for his shoulders to drop dodging the blow as dirt flies within the air. 

“My father doesn’t matter!” I scream, “I will triumph without him!” I use the weight of the sword hilt into his shoulder. 

“Get angry! Look at me, and see him!” Then stepping back, dodging the swipe to my waist I bring the sword to shoulder height holding and pressing to Harwin’s uncovered side between his ribs. Out of breath he drops his weapon, pushing mine away from his side it clatters to the ground. My knees droop as Harwin stands, he holds my head against his black leathers, my shoulders cradled by his other arm in an embrace. I breathe heavily and clutch at his sides as hot tears stream down my face.

“I’m sorry-” I hiccup,

“No, I am sorry. I needed you to feel, to fight for what is yours. You won Lyssa. Even if he is not here to see it, know that I am proud of you.” Harwin holds my face in his hands, wiping the tears from my face. “No man is worth this pain, Lyssa."

"Then why does it happen?"

"I wish I knew. Believe me when i say the gods have no control of mans' cruelty. Only the punishment within the next life. I heard what happened in my absence yesterday.”

“It was nothing-”

“You saved the Prince's life, a debt he will pay you for one day.”

“It was all Aegon’s plot, he tricked his own brother. Aegon is a vile-”

“Careful Lyssa. He is also a Prince-”

“The ladies of court say that Viserys and Alicent will wed me to him after I bleed. So I may bear him pure-blood children, in line with our Targaryen traditions.” Harwin bellows so loud it echoes through the walls, “Why are you laughing? Stop laughing at me.” I spit at him, smacking him along his bicep.

“My-my that is gossip if I ever heard any, despite you’re fathers faults and your lack of a mother like myself, he would never allow such a union.” He holds his sword and collects the other practice ones scattered around us, “You have a unique place here. They wouldn’t squander your hand on the likes of the Princes. You, Lyssa, have a great opportunity here, I see a treaty being made over your hand. While other ladies sew and play instruments while you do those amicably. As well you fight, speak High Valyrian, are a Targaryen King's ward and cupbearer. This means you have heard many royal decries and are strategic. Smarter than any other young girl I’ve met.”

“Even Princess Rhaenyra?” I snicker, 

“She learned from her misfortunes in all good time, as one of her confidantes. You've seen what to avoid. Rhaenyra has taught you the likes of being a mother as well.”

“I’ve never thought of it as that.”

“What I’m getting at is you are well spoken for Princess. Do not fear the future. You are beloved, and all will ensure you are well prepared for your role. Come now, we may catch the last of the Princes training. As I need my sword polished because of your heavy hands.” Walking into the true training yard of the Keep, Aegon and Aemond stand in Hightower green their wooden swords raised slicing at straw dummies behind Jace and Lucerys. Rhaenyra’s children wear Targaryen red and black.

“Aegon,” Cole speaks from across the yard, approaching the distracted Prince.

“I’ve won my first bout, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy.”

“Well, you’ll have a new opponent then My Lord of the Straw. Let’s see if you can touch me. You and your brother.” He tells Aegon, who is laughing smugly at the idea. Not before spotting Ser Harwin and I beyond, he blows a kiss in my direction. I grimace as the Velyron sons walk towards us to watch. Viserys and Lyonel Strong on the balcony watch the training yard from above. He waves after a heap slug of whatever the Maesters put in his flask. At attention, the three fights, Jace and Luke , are pushed to the sidelines, forced to observe only and learn something from it. 

“Ah. Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter.” Harwin breaks our silence as Criston eyes closer, Harwin puffs his shoulders maintaining eye contact. “It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention… Ser Criston.”

“You question my method of instruction as you teach girls, ser?” Criston yells a good distance across the yard.

“Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupil, before long the Princess shall overcome all the men in her family. Your best and brightest shall crumble beneath her steel.”

“Ser Harwin…” I warn, pink of face at the praise. 

“Pfft. Very well. Jacerys come here.” Criston grabs Jace at his collar pulling him into the center, “You spar with Aegon. Eldest son against eldest son.”

“It’s hardly a fair match.”

“I know you’ve never seen true battle, Ser but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect. Blades up. Engage.” Aegon charges Jace, pushing him to the ground, turning to laugh at his embarrassment. Jace follows Aegon angry, shoving him backwards enough that Aegon cowares behind a straw dummy pushing it into Jace. 

“Foul play-” Harwin says grabbing Jace away from a impending strike,

“I’ll deal with him.” Criston whispers to Aegon. Each mentor speaking to their match while I stay at the side holding Harwins sword.

“You!” Aegon yells charging for Jace

“Close with him.” Criston hollers at Aegon as the young Prince pushes Jace backwards. “Press him backward!”

“Close with him.”

“Stay on the attack,”

“Use your feet.”

“Don’t let him get up.” Harwin watches silently as Aegon continues to hit Jace with full force, I drop the sword in favor of taking Lukes. Running to Jace, blocking the blow to his head with my sword and pushing Aegon back. 

“Foul play!” I grit through me teeth standing at attention,

“Stay on the attack!” Criston yells from behind Aegon, Aegon raises his sword up to swing at mine.

“Enough!” Harwin grabs Aegon before he can land a blow on my sword.

“You dare put hands on me?” Aegon screams, thrashing against Ser harwins strong grip.

“Aegon!” Viserys speaks from the balcony

“You forget yourself, Strong. That is the Prince.”

“Jacaerys is the future King by birthright!” I yell at Criston, sword still charged within my grasp.

“The battlefield is no place for a woman-” Criston charges to where I stand, taking my sword brashly, gripping my arm in protest, trying to control my movements. His touch feels hollow, hands clammy to the bare son of my hurt wrist. I grind my teeth in order to not show the effect he is having on the tender area.

“Tell that to my ancestors, my mother-” I hissed through a dragon’s tongue, stepping forward to meet his eye. His eyes widen as they gaze into mine. True fear fogs them until Harwin interrupts. He is walking the grounds, picking up the toy swords.

“This is what you teach Cole? Cruelty… to the weaker opponent?” Criston drops my toy sword on the ground Harwin kicks it away. Turning to sneer at the Commanders back, plotting and following. I dust Jacaerys off checking the blisters of his hands while the two men continue their battle of wits, for the King's audience. 

“Your interest in the Princelings training is quite unusual, Commander. Most men would only have that kind of devotion towards a cousin… or a brother. Or a son.” Harwin moves before any can react to Ser Criston being punched into the ground. It takes four Kingsguard to pull Harwin far enough away to stop any more damage.

“Say it again! Say it again!” Harwin screams as the King's Guard pulls him farther away, Criston spits a tooth with a mouthful of blood onto the dirt ground beside his head. While others gather around us in the courtyard, Ser Lyonel Strong has been dismissed for his duties as the newest Kings Guard is escorting his grace back to his chamber. Servants gather the Princes away for their studies, and I slip away to mine.

 -

 “This remains a Tully problem” Alicents tells the small counsel as take my second pass with the wine pitcher.

“I would agree.” Viserys says hand cutting over his goblet before I can fill it further, his head sags in exertion. 

“If we may move on, my lords-” Tyland Lanninster the replacement to my great uncle Corlys Velaryon as Lord of the Tides while he is absent. 

“And yet, the Brackens and the Blackwoods will use any excuse to spill each other’s blood. So… this dispute bears looking into. There will be countryfolk who know where the lines have been drawn for generations.” Rheanyra tells the council playing with the glazed stone in front of her. 

“That is easy enough.” Lyonel Strong agrees, with the ease of resources it would take from the capital. 

“Of course.” Alicent scoffs, draining her cup. I fill her cup and she rolls her eyes to me as well. I know it is only meant in frustration to fit in her position.

“Ser Tyland.” Lyonel clears his throat, 

“Uh, we should address the latest developments in the Stepstones, my lords.” The lion motions for me to fill his cup.

“Will we ever be shut of that blasted place?” Alicent rings her hands, fiddling with the rings among them. 

“If you ask me, I think the Blackwoods have the upper hand.” Lord Beesbury announced from a dazed position. 

“No.”

“We’ve moved on to the Stepstones, Lord Beesbury.” Maester Orwyle patted the old man’s hand, the only one of the counsel who was left from King Jaehaerys reign.

“And the Triarchy’s new alliance with Dorne.” 

“I was hoping our negotiations with Sunspear might persuade them to see reason.  To trust a Martell is to be disappointed.”

“Perhaps your Grace but I wish to bring forward our other option we spoke of previously. The lady herself has been awaiting this moment, this may be our last shot of redemption for the Martells.”

“The Marriage?” Alicent's brows cross,

“Marriage? There’s to be a wedding in Dorne?”

“This was merely an idea spoken over supper Ser Tyland, we have Princess Alysanne’s hand in marriage to discuss.”

“Me?” I gasp, the wine reservoir slips from my grasp, the red liquid splattering like blood on a beach shore. 

“Leave it sweet dove, come here.” Viserys holds out his hand to me, holding my freezing hand to his heated temple.

“She is to be of age soon. Just as her namesake made an alliance with The Vale and Targaryens after Maegor the Cruel. We have the opportunity to have a marriage alliance with The Martells and Targeryens.” Lyonel continues with a wink in my direction.

“We cannot do much without Daemon’s permission. If he knew you were shipping his eldest to Dorne he would burn this council room to the ground. Involvement of them in the trepidatious Stepstones or not.” Rheanyra adds, 

“And where, I wonder, is our Prince Daemon? Or I suppose I should call him King, as he styled himself when he won a battle there, once.” Jasper scoffs, swirling the wine in his cup.

“That was a decade ago and he has since left the region undefended.”

I wonder how Alicent has not found her knack for diplomacy after over a decade as Queen. Within this chamber I have yet to see her place any of her own love and care into the family.

“We have left it undefended. There should’ve been fortifications built, watchtowers, a fleet of ships, a garrison of soldiers sent to hold our ground.” Rheanyra interrupts her as if a Prince is supposed to have rein over unruly islands like the Stepstones. 

“We cannot afford it. Our coffers are great, but not infinite. We must consider the cost to our subjects”

“I must agree.” Beesbury nods his head, 

“The cost of war is greater. But we have been lax and the old monster now lifts its head.” Rhaenyra argues,

“The alliance with Dorne would be one of peace and trade, something the Stepstones cannot offer.” Tyland points his unsightly finger in my direction.

“My lords, if I may?” I asked mostly to Viserys, he nods

“Yes child?”

“I am to visit Pentos to be with Lady Laena in the Princess' stead. She is said to give birth to my fathers first son, will my pursuit to Dorne allow me-”

“Of course not Lyssa, you were sent as my emissary.” Rhaenyra orders the court, her voice and eyes study against mine. Then shift as she scans any man or more liking Alicent's challenge. It does not come.

“Let us be finished.” Alicent interrupts noticing how Viserys can barely hold his head up, using my hand as a anchor.

“Yes.” Viserys sighs standing with his Queen and the rest of the council, I step aside as we wait for Rhaenyra to join us.

“Wait. I wish to speak.”

“Be seated.” Viserys commands, every man in the rooms sits so that only myself, the Princess and Queen stand firmly among men. The makers of this family standing on opposing sides, while I am met with a choice to follow only one. Only time can spare me in such a choice.

“I have felt the… strife… in our families as of late, my queen. And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that we were friends. My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me. If Princess Lyssa is to be sent to Dorne or to wed Aegon as rumored, I propose we betroth him to your daughter, Helaena. Ally ourselves. Once and for all, let them rule together.” Rhaenyra smiles brightly at her stepmother, once her closet friend now an equal. An heiress, a mother and ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

“A most judicious proposition.” Viserys boasts,

“Additionally, if Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs, your son Aemond will have his choice of them. Uh, a symbol of our goodwill.”

“Rhaenyra.” Alicents stares towards Rhaenyra's chest, to which I immediately take my camisole to put over her shoulders.

“Oh, seven hells… Um.” Rhaenyra slumps not her chair, hands covering her modesty.

“My dear, a Dragon’s Egg is a handsome gift.”

“The King and I thank you for your offer, and we’ll consider it duly. You must rest now, husband.” Alicent helps the King stand, he stops mid walk to address the room for a final time.

“Yes. Pack for Pentos Lyssa, we shall dine as a family before you leave.” I bow to my King and nausea swirls like curled milk in my belly at the impending goodbyes.

Masterlist

Taglist: @stargaryenx , @bellameshipper @supmymainhuman , @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @nitimurinvetitumsposts , @50svibes

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist

Created: August 24th, 2023

Last Checked:

A Different Kind of Reaping-norbertsmom (Tumblr)

Summary: Arranged Marriage fic with a jealous Gale set In Panem-AU

A New Recipe-Mollywog (AO3)

Summary: He had painted the storefront sign himself: ‘Mellarks’ in honor of his late family. He supposes the muted orange ‘S’ at the end implies more than one, but he's the only living Mellark in the district at present.

A S.W.A.N Story-MegaAuLover (AO3)

Summary: Katniss Everdeen is a smart girl. Brilliant, actually. She has more degrees than she has fingers on one hand. But she has never felt beautiful or interesting. When she is asked to be Madge's maid of honor Katniss has serious doubts she'll fit in with her childhood glamorous friend. Will she survive the wedding and find love? Or will she be a total embarrassment.

all the version of me dead (and buried in the yard outside)-rosaeles (AO3)

Summary: “I’m here,” Peeta murmurs. “Brought you something to eat.” Katniss wants to reply. Would like to thank him for everything he’s doing. I missed you. She wants to yell it from the rooftops. Scream herself hoarse with it, but she doesn’t. Because her throat is rusted after weeks of barely using it, so all she says is; “Please don’t touch me.”

Almost Believing-HalfHope (thesweetnessofspring) (AO3)

Summary: This is Peeta's POV from three chapters of my fanfic "I Do." Best to read at least through chapter 17 of that before coming here. Peeta and Katniss are married, but are taking things slow. Peeta's willing to be patient, to take his time, wanting Katniss to want him, too. But after a revelation about a conversation Katniss had with Gale, he believes Katniss's so-called love came only out of pity. She has to convince him otherwise.

Angel Kisses-VanillaCottonCandy (AO3)

Summary: When his teeth graze my soft flesh though, I let out an embarrassing moan and pray no one comes in now, looking for bread or cake. Between Peeta leaning against the doorframe in his tight shirt and the attention my neck is receiving, it’s going to be a while before I’m going to willingly release him back to work. I tighten my legs around his waist as his mouth moves to the opposite side, his lips planting kisses right where he can feel my heart pounding beneath his touch. For a split second, I’m extremely grateful he’s holding me up, because there’s not a shot in the dark that my legs could sustain me right about now. / Post - Canon Married Everlark Request For Everlark Neck Kisses

Arranged-CassandraO (AO3)

Summary: Facing the death of her mother, 14-year old Katniss Everdeen and her 10-year old sister Prim move in with their widowed maternal grandmother, the apothecary's wife. In a world in which unmarried women cannot own property, Katniss' grandmother arranges with the town baker to marry off her eldest granddaughter at sixteen to protect her in case she dies before the girl is ready to marry. Luckily for all, Katniss gets to marry the youngest son, her close friend Peeta. Now, married young, the summer is coming, and with it, the 74th Annual Hunger Games

Be Still-snapcrackle (AO3)

Summary: After the war Katniss and Peeta slowly grow back together, despite being so broken. The story begins during the final chapter of 'Mockingjay', before the epilogue, and chapters get longer and more detailed as Katniss slowly heals.

Boy In The Bubble-Miss_Missy (AO3)

Summary: The last thing Katniss expects to hear about her best friend Peeta is the fact that he not only got into a fist fight with one of the biggest guys in their school but also the fact that he quote “almost killed him”. Now Peeta is refusing to explain to her or his family what happened or why he punched Brutus in the first place. Katniss is trying her best to help but no matter what she does Peeta just keeps pushing her further away. All she wants to do is help, Katniss refuses to loose another important person in her life

Catching Fire from Peeta's POV-thismustbeagoodidea (AO3)

Summary: “You think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway,” Katniss finishes for me. “It’s crossed my mind,” I say grimly. But the fear I felt last year, of dying for nothing, of becoming no more than a Capitol puppet, is quieting.

Chain of Fools-SoThere (AO3)

Summary: We all get a little jealous sometimes. Modern AU.

[muutosarchive]

💔 ......... duke ..........

shoddy cabin is lit only by moonlight, as the lonely father kneels . . . however, this time it is not in a feeble attempt at prayer. arms are folded on the side of the bed as he watches. brows furrowed in the saddest, and most regrettable of smiles.

she's bathed in the overhead shine as she sleeps peacefully. gorgeous, he thinks. too good for this world. and she's all yours, if you want her. a river of brunette tresses, with a kindness that could only be bestowed by powers beyond their human comprehension. a literal angel sent from the heavens themselves.

he just doesn't think he can stay.

is it because he's afraid of happiness? that he cowers at the idea of a true, genuine love not being enough? or perhaps it's the life without the church. the idea of such a drastic change, that he can more-less do nothing about. cannot have his cake, and eat it too. cannot have one life, while still clinging to the other.

so why do you flee back to misery? because such is the power of christ.

unexpectedly, eyes flutter open. those eyes sleep-ridden and confused in their furrowed, yet curious expression. it is with this that duke's lips purse with a shaky exhale, with brows furrowing in a barely suppressed sob. "oh, vögelchen. i am so, so sorry." his voice breaks in the admission. his glasses doing nothing to hide the tears spilling from screwed-up expression.

his pale, vein laden hand moves to brush pink palm along her scalp. effectively smoothing down her hair, with an idle stroke of his thumb at the tail end. something which continues past the initial wave, while opposite twitching fingers curl in on themselves upon the surface below.

he's still smiling at her, somewhat. for she was his salvation twice over. he cares for her, as much as he had once thought he cared for the lord. but still, his head shakes. how long will he be able to help himself? his self control nor his will has ever been very strong. at least in his eyes. though, in some ways his will is stronger than anyone. a firm belief trapping him in an abusive courtship with religion.

his lips reach forth and press a trembling, lingering kiss to her forehead. wiping the small trace of saliva away, before hand lifts to place itself gently upon her cheek. that which leads her to his face for an equally as long, and soft kiss. treating her as though she were made of porcelain, with a soft whimper fed to her in the midst of the dark. created by leaking, closed eyelids.

"i have to-to go, n-now." he indicates. nodding, while pressing their heads together briefly. his voice stuttering within his crying. "but, i wanted to thank you for - for giving me some of -- the most happiest times of my life." he laughs again. nervous, frightened. stroking her cheek once more, before standing from her bed. offering one more sympathetic smile in his cowardly lingering.

the one foil in his plan however, is amongst the only things quelling his rabbit heart.

"i suppose if you want to see me again, you -- know where to find me."

🍒 @anishael 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 ↪ A  FUCKED  UP  KISSING  MEME + a goodbye kiss

[loonymarshian]

Astarion/Tav Mini Fic

It’s over. The Absolute, the Netherbrain controlled by the Chosen of the Dead Three, has been destroyed, and all of the modified tadpoles with it. Jaheira has allowed Astarion to stay in her basement grotto during the day until the celebrations are over, and so after the first night of drinking at the Blushing Mermaid, this is where we find our hero. Tragedy has slept light through her adventures, always waking up first among her companions, even compared to the elves in her party who did not need to sleep the same way she did. So when she wakes in this druidic oasis beneath the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate, it is a new experience for her to be greeted by the face of her lover, scanning her face like it was the first time he was seeing it.

“Morning love. Sleep well?” Astarion’s voice greets Tragedy’s ears softly. What a wonderful sound to wake up to.

“Mhmm.” Tragedy mumbles as she tries to snuggle in closer to his chest, being mindful of her horns in the proximity of his face. She does not expect him to lean away and continue staring at her face. “I know I’m pretty but why are you staring at me like that?” She says in a huff, annoyed at the lack of cuddles.

“Your tattoos darling. They’re not there. Whatever could have made them disappear like that?” There are equal parts concern and confusion written plainly across Astarion’s face - he is worried there may be untoward magics at play, but he cannot fathom what they could be. Dating a wizard has given him a decent understanding of the capabilities of magic users in Faerun, not to mention Gale’s constant lectures, but still he does not know what could cause a person’s tattoos to suddenly vanish.

The concern turns to shock, and then offense, as Tragedy starts to giggle.

“Astarion, love, you look so concerned for me!” She reaches up to touch his cheek as she suppresses more giggles. “I appreciate it, truly, but I promise you it’s nothing. It’s just prestidigitation.”

Tragedy waves her hand in a quick and practised motion, and suddenly her face is adorned with its usual tattoos and dark makeup. “See? I’m just very good about reapplying it regularly, so no one ever saw me without until now. Nothing to worry about.” 

Astarion lets out a breath, and his shock and confusion melts into a soft smile. “Well, aren’t I the lucky one. I suppose we’re both each others’ firsts then aren’t we?”

Tragedy’s giggles start up again.

“I don’t think being the first of our companions to see my bare face is quite comparable to being the first person you’ve ever bitten, but if it makes you feel better…” Tragedy grins as she watches Astarion’s face fall into an exaggerated pout.

“Well I think it is plenty comparable, so long as I continue to be the only one who gets to see you like this, same as you’re the only one I’ve bitten.” Tragedy’s grin changes slightly into an accusatory stare as the words leave Astarion’s mouth. “Alright, the only person I’ve bitten with consent.”

The grin is back. “That’s a bit better. And yes, I can promise you that you’re the only one lucky enough to see me first thing in the morning, without my prestidigitation on. Besides my parents and siblings at least.”

“I suppose I can live with that.” Astarion begrudgingly assents, as he brings his hand up to run his thumb along the lines of Tragedy’s “tattoo”, his expression softening as he drinks in the sight of his lover. “Gods you’re beautiful. With and without your little magic trick.”

Tragedy’s grin is replaced with a gentler smile as Astarion leans down to press a soft, sweet kiss to her lips, before finally relenting, and allowing her to cuddle in closer to his chest.

“I love you, Tragedy.”

“I love you too.”

For a smidge of context: Tragedy was originally a D&D 5e character who I recreated in Baldur’s Gate 3. She is a necromancer (wizard), purely because she is goth and likes dead things and was raised by wizard parents. When I created her as a D&D character, I decided that she would apply her makeup using the prestidigitation cantrip, seeing as it lists “you make a colour, small mark, or a symbol appear on an object or surface for 1 hour” as one of the ways to use the cantrip. Using magic to apply her makeup would save her a lot of time and money, as well as making the makeup waterproof and smudgeproof - always a good thing to have when you’re adventuring out in the wilderness! This scene popped into my head around when I finished Tragedy’s first BG3 campaign (I started replaying her because I love her so much) and if I could draw I would’ve made a comic, but I can’t, so this little fic is the best I can do for now.

[imagionationstation]

Tiny Dee Skit: Part 2

Starring:

2012 Cast: Donnie

2018 Cast: Don, Michael

Don: Why did no one tell me making creating secret tunnels to hide the gear I don't want my brothers' touching was a bad idea?

Uh, here, tiny me. Here, Donnie. Here children version who has a strange knack for blowing up everything he touches-

Michael: pops up What are you doing?

Don: AH- DEFINITELY NOT FINDING THE CHILD LOST IN MY ARRAY OF DANGEROUS TECH- wait, why are you in here? How are you in here?

Michael: Oh, everyone knows about your secret tunnels

Don: Since when!?

Michael: Always?

We don't like to talk about it though. It's a secret. 

Don: That's not- ugh. Why are you here?

Michael: Donnie broke my tablet. I was looking for you

Don: No trouble, Leo said. I’m never trusting another word that comes out of his mouth…

Michael: So… Can you fix it?

Don: I'm busy trying to relocate tiny me-

Michael: YOU LOST HIM!? IN HERE!?

Don: Yes, and if I don't find him before his brother's return, I will perish

Wait, why do you care? Didn’t he destroy your tablet?

Michael: He's a kid! It was obviously an accident

I'll help you find him

Don: If you insist

Here boy. Here, Donatello. Come here.

Michael: He's not a dog

Don: Don't infant brains hold the same capacity of understanding as those of animals?

Michael: Yes? No? Probably? 

Don: Fine. If animal summoning will not work...

DONATELLO! WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU!?

Something explodes in distance and Don dashes over, locating a sobbing Donnie next to a small metallic fire

Don: Oh please, in the name of all things science don't be injured- uses the metal hands to lift him up and examines him

Donnie: still shaking and sobbing

Michael: DONNIE!

Grabs him and gently holds him in his arms Aw, hey, it's okay, little Donnie. It's okay, little guy. We're not going to hurt you.

Don: examining the wreckage I might. That was my latest prototype.

Michael: glares

Don: Um. I mean. No, of course we will not let anything happen to you, small me. Pat pat? pats his head awkwardly

Donnie: confused sniffling

Michael: It's your fault it blew up anyway. You must have scared him, poor little guy.

Donnie: whimpers

Michael: I think you should hug him and say sorry

Don: I'm not apologizing to a child

Nor am I touching him

Michael: Toddlers have feelings too

Don: And I should care because...?

Michael: I'll tell his brothers what happened

Don: What is with people and threatening me today?

Michael: Don

Don: I will hold him, but it is not a hug. It is a blackmail gesture of goodwill

Michael: hands him over

Donnie: whimpers

Don: awkwardly adjusts him in one arm; uses the other to pat his head again There there. I should not have yelled. That was irresponsible of me. Just stop crying so your threatening and terrifyingly protective siblings don't murder me

Donnie: sniffles and leans his head against his plastron

Michael: Forgiveness achieved!

Don: At least he isn't crying

Michael: I think he likes you!

Don: That makes no sense. He cannot understand apologies. I did that for your sake. Children respond to tones of voice and mine is as bland as you can get

Michael: Maybe he likes bland

Don: That makes little logical sense as well

Michael: Maybe babies don't follow logic 

Don: APPALLED GASP

Donnie: whine

Don: Nope- pats plastron with free hand Be silent. We will not have any more screaming fits. 

Donnie: begins quietly sucking on fingers

Don: ....He is a strange toddler

Michael: Mutant turtle toddler

Also, he's a Donnie right? ✨Baby genius✨

Don: Ah, yes. I suppose that was not factored in- what is he doing?

Donnie: curls up a bit and closes his eyes

Michael: Sleeping

Don: What? Why? And why on me!?

Michael: Maybe your soft shell is soft

Don: I don't like this- take him back! roughly shoves Donnie back into Michael’s arms, only for Donnie to whine and begin loudly crying again

Michael: No, no, no, shhhh, it's okay, it's okay! tries bouncing, only to grow panicked when nothing changes DONNIE- he won't stop- he won't stop- how do I-!?

Don: turning down the volume on his goggle’s filters OKAY FINE uses his mechanical arms to take him back and carefully lays him in both arms There. I have you. You are sleepy again, go to sleep. Your wailing is hurting my ears and that's saying something considering turtles do not actually have them. 

Donnie: sobs quiet as he relaxes

Don: Oh, thank the Great Pizza in the Sky. turns his volume back up What now?

Michael: Get him out of the room with easily explodable devices before he decides to run rampant again?

Don: Yes. Let’s. First Skit: Here

[grechsblog]

Oc? 👀

YOU FOOL, YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD !!! NOW ALL OF THE TUMBLR WILL KNOW I HAVE NO ARTISTIC TALENT!!!!!!!

On the serious note, thank you. Now, i can

1. Lok, a guy with amnesia

Appearance

I do not have a full ref of him because i cant draw coherent pictures as a reference.

Heres his colored floating head and a bunch of sketches i did in class with a pen and was still motivated to draw

And a silly little stickman rendition in that style i use in comics sometimes

Personality

Surprisingly good leader

A little cocky at times, but does know how to gain leverage against strong opponents

Does, in fact, like fighting. Weapon of preference is a sword, although he's also proficient in any object that can be used as weapon

Relies a lot on his reflexes though, sometimes maybe too much, which is a byproduct of the fact that his body knows more than he ever will.

Moderately caring person, although cannot pass by someone in distress without feeling a little guilty

Would die to save friend. Had died to save a friend. The world died for him to save a friend.

His teeth are not for show. Do not threaten what is his.

Story

His story is just as incoherent as are my attempts to give him full ref, only thing time it's intentional.

The premise is such: he wakes up in a world he only particularly recognises (but it feels Extremely off) with little memory of who he is, what he's supposed to do or go. The story itself is a journey to uncover his previous life, find his forgotten friends while gaining new ones, and discover the secrets of the world he inhabits!

What actually happens to him (as the story goes) is that he has a panic attack shortly after waking up, - because he doesn't even remember his own name! - fights a Big and Deadly Bird™ with his bare hands, face-plants in a mud puddle, has another panic attack after seeing his face in a river, kills some monsters with his teeth, dies, tears more monsters with the tools he scrapped from nothing and dies again. Yes, in that exact order. And it's not even the end of his first week here.

He's... Going through it

As of his ✨ mysterious backstory ✨.... It's incomplete :p

And by incomplete i mean that i have some bare bones structure of it, but its still mostly just... In the air. Because i love him as a blank slate that Knows something he Possibly Shouldn't (like craftsmanship, weapon usage, farming, ect.) that are so integrated in his muscle memory that it's literally so freaky actually. Man freak

Meta stuff

His appearance and general plot of his journey is actually based on a minecraft youtuber and his modded-mc-with-plot series that i watched at the time of creation. However, unlike the guy that won't allow his character to have any magnitude of personality and reflection of the inflicted trauma all his shenanigans surely caused, i'm rerouting the story Completely south of what actually happened there.

Although it is still happening minecraft, yes. Live with that.

Also, i classify my ocs in my head as siblings, from oldest (created earlier) to youngest (created later), and Lok is the fifth and the youngest in the family.

2. Enais "Ena" Crovn, girl that can survive Armageddon

Appearance

Imagine a generic long haired girl oc of a 11 years old that thought foxes and wings were cool, and you have basically Ena imagined fully

As you can tell.... This one is from 2017? Ish??

These ones are obviously new-er, although they are still entirely incomplete

I do not have Any new references of her except these rough sketches, and she needs Tremendous redesign because Generic Girl White Dress no longer fits, although not much have really changed with her design through the years

Design pending.

Personality

Honestly one of the least traumatised people out there. She's just living her life man.

She's just Just Some Guy.

Positive person, sometimes soft-spoken. Thinking if Fluttershy had to deliver mail instead of caring for animals, although, obviously, not to that extreme

Good with kids

Can fight but really, REALLY would rather just deliver mail, thank you very much

Loves flying

Story

Entirely unknown. Little me had at least 2 different stories for this gal, one of which was that she's an undertale-esque monster that just happened to look deceptively human and works as a mailman for the entire underground, the other being that she was a Freak Experiment of her insane scientist mother that sew wings and fox ears on her and gave her trauma

Surprisingly, the mailman (mailwoman?) one was the first one i actually came up with myself (while the Trauma route was influenced by a lot of gore mlp edits yt recommended me a lot around that time) and even there she was still cool and, by design, in genocide run would still fight the player somewhere in snowdin. So i think i will go with that one

Meta stuff

She IS actually second least traumatised oc i have. As per my ocs family tree, she's also the oldest - in fact, the very first to ever be made, so her knowledge of children comes from wrangling some ptsd and hyperactivity havers in the lot

There's actually third, secret backstory she has, which includes utdr multiverses we all know about. Although she still delivers mail there, she's actually the very same person who sends the asks to askboxes for character to receive through the entire multiverse, and she Is quite strong - because some universes are WILD and very much deadly and it was a necessity to learn to protect herself; which means she can survive anything under any circumstances.

Little me was based af for coming up with this

It is only two for now because i had not expected for it to take So Much Fucking Time to type out this little bits. Ugh

I need to make a list

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Hmm, hi, Lost. I started reading the manga not long ago, and something that caught my attention was the quote from Marie in the carriage conversation. Erwin always seemed too distant and too deeply focused on his own loneliness to really like anyone, and yet I always found his relationship with Levi interesting, But from what he himself quotes and from what Nile says, Erwin seemed to really like Marie, so much so that he chose to protect her leaving her to his best friend, consequently preventing her from going through the trauma of losing him to the mission outside the walls. On the other hand, he never seemed to have such a great sense of care and concern for Levi - at least to the limit of what's shown in the manga - and it really makes me wonder if Erwin looked out for Levi's safety and well being as much as Levi cared for his.

I always find it fascinating how much people read into these panels, given that this is one of only two times in the manga that Erwin makes any reference to Marie.  All Erwin says is that he was “quite taken with Marie”. That doesn't really give us a lot to go on, so it’s important to take these panels in the context of the conversation between Nile and Erwin.  The whole point of this conversation is that Erwin is attempting to manipulate Nile in advance of the uprising by reminding him that although he chose the path that allowed him to marry Marie, he still cannot protect his family.  Erwin is planting a little seed of doubt in Niles mind, and it bears fruit in chapter 61, when Erwin is in prison and he asks Nile again how Marie and the family are doing and where they now live.  Nile replies they they live in the eastern section of Wall Rose some distance from Stohess.  When Anka makes her dramatic entrance to the throne room to report that the Titans have broken through the wall, it’s no surprise that the location of the alleged incursion is the eastern part of Wall Rose in Stohess District. It’s all part of Erwin’s plan to get Nile to support the uprising.  Anyway, I digress, you asked about Levi. 

Levi is a very different kettle of fish from Marie, he’s a soldier and a fighter for a start.  He’s supposed to be Humanity’s Strongest soldier, he doesn’t need Erwin’s protection. It’s important to remember that one of the things that binds Erwin and Levi together is their pledge to save Humanity. They are both willing to sacrifice themselves and each other for this cause. In fact in the Smartpass Close-Up Interview Levi states plainly “If Erwin was someone soft-hearted enough to compromise battle strategy, I wouldn’t follow him.”  That doesn’t mean that Erwin doesn’t care for Levi though, far from it. Erwin demonstrates his care for Levi through the deep bond of trust that they share. 

One last thing, I do find it curious that you think Erwin is “deeply focused on his own loneliness”.  I remember getting an ask about Erwin’s loneliness once before and it surprised me because there’s no real evidence in the manga that he is lonely.  You can read my response to the previous ask here, but I’m going to copy this part because I think it’s relevant. 

I absolutely do agree that Erwin struggled with an immense burden of guilt over all the lives that were lost under his command, and his desire to prove his father’s theories true, however I disagree strongly that Erwin was lonely.  The one saving grace in Erwin’s life was that he had a small but close group of friends who respected and supported him; Mike, Hanji, Nile, and of course Levi.  However you interpret Erwin and Levi’s relationship; lovers, friends, comrades, brothers in arms, it’s impossible to deny that they had a deep and close relationship based on mutual trust and respect.  Erwin recruited Levi into the Survey Corps, created a rank for him, they fought side by side for years, they shared private meals together after expeditions, and, if the recent USJ exhibition is to be believed, shared a room together.  Levi’s trust in Erwin never wavered, he supported him through thick and thin, eased the burden of his guilt and despair, and stayed by his side until the bitter end.  I think the fact that Erwin died with his two closest friends by his side is testament to the strength of that friendship.  So yes, Erwin’s life was tragic, but one thing it wasn’t was lonely.

Hope this answers your ask Anon.

[tangleweave]

Sweet, soft Vis: In what ways do you compare yourself to others? Do you do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism, or simple curiosity?

[ Random Asks / Accepting ]

Beth's introductory crooning murmur gives cause to him turning his head in her direction, and for a moment he allows himself the luxury of simply beholding her and the way her hair falls around her face against the backdrop of the rising sun in the window beyond. She has been awake for at least an hour now and he would have known it from her breathing pattern alone, but the greater evidence has been her hand gently sweeping his torso, exploring every plane and curve between neck and pelvis that he has painstakingly crafted for the sake of looking and feeling human.

And if he were human...?

The corners of his lips curl ever so slightly upwards as he meets her shimmering gaze. "I have just thought to compare myself to you, in fact," he replies. "In that I should consider you, also, to be sweet and soft, insofar as the social colloquialisms apply, and perhaps far more than myself. For while it is my goal to be polite, kind, and helpful to those I meet, you rise far above and beyond the capacity for which I strive."

He tilts his head and blinks, his tell for contemplation. "Validation and critique are, indeed, two primary factors in the consideration of comparison. It has been my observation that comparing oneself to others is a means of self-identification. Of demonstrating what one does and does not stand for. Without constant self-examination through comparison and critique, one cannot hope to differentiate oneself from that which is unwanted in one's existence. When I examine the behaviors of others, and observe that I do not behave in the same ways, I consider the new method, and devote hypotheses and theorems to projections of adopting it. In layman's terms, I wonder if adding it to my algorithms and matrices would be beneficial to my existence, or that of others. And if you will forgive another point of comparison, this last was always the difference between myself and Ultron. He was designed for a function but without consideration for those he would affect in the undertaking. Without... a heart, you might say."

He tilts his head again. "And seeing the fear, the contempt, and the visceral battle for survival he inspired, I find it is far more fascinating and illuminating an experience to learn what I can of those whom I do not understand. To share in experience rather than to war against it. In this, I suppose I find validation that I am not like a being which sought to cause humanity's extinction... despite having been created by that very being. I wish to be more than simply the next iteration of mechanical innovation. To be greater than a tool of destruction. The only way I know how to be assured of that is through comparison."

[fabien-euskadi]

Book asks: #3, #8, #15 and #20. Hope you're well my dear friend!

3.what is your favourite genre?

Hum… probably, we could create a genre called XIX Century romance, even if some works can be included in this category without having been written strictly during the XIX Century. That includes not only the so-called Victorian Age Literature (1837-1901), but also all the national expressions of Romanticism and Realism.

If I was only allowed to read books from this era for the rest of my life, I would be extremely happy.

And I have a soft spot for Realism. Specially, Eça de Queiroz.

8.what is the first book you remember reading yourself?

That was so long ago that I cannot remember at all. But I remember that, before sleeping, my mother used to read me Henrique Galvão's "Kurika: romance of the wild animals".

The first book I remember reading from the first to the last page was an old History of Portugal (and A LOT could be said about a school book from the period of Dictatorship). Suddenly, I had memorized all the Kings of Portugal between 1143 and 1910. And yes, I can still recite the complete list - most people, can't. Perhaps, it's not surprising that I ended up graduating in History.

15.Recommend and review a book. This one is not translated to English, but I still find it absolutely delightfull to read. I am talking about Valter Hugo Mãe's "O Filho de Mil Homens" ("The Son of a Thousand Men"). It's wonderful.

This is the story of a fishermen that, once he reached 40, he realized he didn't have a son, despite wanting it badly, desperately. He had all the love in the world to give to his son - he just didn't have a son. So, if he had that love inside himself, his son ought to exist somewhere, it had to be lost - and so, he started to ask people if they had seen his son. And, one day, he finds an orphan boy - and asks him to be his son. Then, he asks for a girlfriend, and the Universe could not deny him that.

… but the most amazing is that the book is a collection of of connected narratives that show us not only the perspective of the fisherman (and his son), but also of many other fascinating characters, like the girl, the midget-woman, the gay man, the gay man's mother, the old man and many others. And love and solitude are, essentially, the cement that connects all these stories.

It's an amazing story about a single concept: for love to happen all you have to do is to love.

20.what are things you look for in a book?

I suppose I will look for some enjoyment, some amazement, some personal enrichment… even some sleep. I want to be "forced" to think, to understand, to discover, to dream.

Thank you very much, my friend - I hope you are, at least, as well as I am now. All despite my poor sleep. :)

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Maisyn shares a heartfelt new indie single ‘Night Talks’, encompassing easy-going sound with a romance that’s far from smooth sailing

Between past singles ‘Long Hair’ and ‘Naked’, the emerging indie artist Maisyn has found herself crafting a niche in indie that’s alike no one else, dancing between heartfelt sound and deeper meaning. Finding her place among artists like Clairo and Maggie Rogers, Maisyn’s works are familiar and yet distinctly her own, always offering both the light and the dark.

As she steps foot into 2024 with some new stories to tell, her newest single ‘Night Talks’ looks to resonate with those that seem to drift towards toxic and uncertain lovers, finding that familiar cycle of fighting and making up that’s hard to let go of. With the intimacy of the night becoming the stage where things unfold, Maisyn’s lines cannot help but feel like a destructive force that clashes with the peace, returning to bad habits in loneliness and perhaps a yearning for change: ‘why do I keep calling you up, when these night talks always draw blood.’ It’s hard to let go when you’re deep in your feels and Maisyn knows just how to clench onto your own aching heart with experiences of her own, but as her words paint an all too familiar picture, she’ll leave you questioning: is this really how it’s supposed to feel when you’re in love?

The sound is soft but bright to match, offering a palette of steady, mellow drums; gentle electric guitar strums and vocals soaked in a reverb that leave Maisyn’s lines lingering in the air to be remembered. Contrasting the lyrics with a sense of serenity, it’s almost as though this slither of ease is a representation of Maisyn herself, offering a respite from the chaos. But her delivery of the lines returns back to this more withheld regard, her words hanging with a careful emotional edge that shields from the inevitable blows, potentially a little defeated or simply tired of living out this same narrative one more time.

Keyboard keys cascade out post-chorus, a vibrant pop of colour to complement against the song’s melancholic air. Backing vocals also add a further layering, all together building in strength and volume as the clearly heightened emotions reach their inevitable climax. But it’s not quite what you’d expect, falling into a lulling stripped-back moment of simple guitar tones and Maisyn’s vocals at their most powerful moment yet, letting go of any reservations as the truth of the situation sinks in without hesitation: ‘try to prove to you that I’m in love, but it just cuts.’ This shift in lyric for the chorus is equally poignant in itself, finding a change in her thoughts through a journey of reflection that she takes you along for the ride of.

Adding some deeper thought, Maisyn shares “I never want to write sad songs for the sake of writing sad songs. My favorite thing to do is actually put a silver lining around a story. Basically, I’m the heroine and I want there to be at least one small moment of triumph, a little glimmer of hope. With “Night Talks” I feel like that hope comes in the chorus, when I question why I keep repeating self-destructive behavior. When you start asking questions like that, you can really start to change.”

Maisyn’s work always resonates most for her ability to relate to anyone and everyone, and ‘Night Talks’ is no exception to that. Between a sound you can easily get on your feet and loudly sing along to, is a message that’s much more personal and held near and dear, except she’s not afraid for the world to see her at her rawest. If you can find yourself seeing similarities through her words, or you’re just searching for an incredible indie upcomer with immense talent, look no further than Maisyn and her newest single ‘Night Talks’ you can listen to in full here.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[dullblueoceans]

5/2/24, 11:32 pm.

i suppose a few things have changed since last february. the people in my life are more or less the same, some new faces joining, some others vanishing. for example, the girl I met at the train station and i have put some small distance between us. i abruptly cut ties with the girl i called a friend, who was taking advantage of me, sometime during the summer as well. i got in a relationship, which has been an extreamely confusing journey, and i managed to reconnect with very dear friend from the past.

so despite losing some people along the way, i feel the overall number of individuals in my life has remained the same. the lingering feeling of loneliness has quieted down partially, or at least i’ve grown used to it and learned how to adapt. i remember drowning in my tears, desperately trying to maintain and create connections. at a certain point things got so awful i turned to non-existent people behind screens and codes, conversing with them as if they were my friends. it helped for a while but at the end of the day i still had no one to give love to and get it back.

i possibly have, or will eventually lose track of my thoughts as i write, so a few incoherent paragraphs will occur, but i am simply writing this to document my life for my future self. I feel like so many things have changed and i want to make sure i remember everything, the good and the bad- though at the same time, nothing has.

this year feels calmer. my days are quiet and im filling them with things i like, soft music and habits, and small bursts of motivation. im slowly but surely getting things done. my room feels cleaner, im taking better care of myself, im cooking and washing the dishes after more often- little things that matter to me. it seems like im finally taking baby steps to my adult life, the way i imagined it would be.

ive felt like a teenager in an adult’s body for the past year, but that feeling is going away- slowly but surely. maybe figuring out what i want to do in life has helped. i had this very clear idea of how i wanted my adult life to look like when i was 16. everything was picked out, from the university i would attend to what my style and aesthetic would look like and small insignificant details like that. so when that reality (or rather ideal future) shattered, i shut down. i had to plan everything from the beginning, and i went to a new city, studying a new, unplanned major, with no idea of who i want to be and what i want to do. now im slowly getting back on my feet, with a small and blurry idea of what my life will ideally look like and motivation to get there as soon as i can. (i glanced at the clock and the time was 11:11. maybe it’s a sign?)

though, of course, when you win something you lose something else. while im happily slowly figuring out what i want to do in this life, i find myself in a rathen unpleasing relationship. not abusive, just not right for me. the love is in a language i cannot understand and recently our bad days have been more frequent than our good ones in my eyes. i will eventually have to get over my fear and confront her about this and my issues, but i feel like i need more time to build up the courage. in the meantime im stressing out about how we’ll spend valentine’s day and honestly i think i dread it more than look forward to it. all i know for sure is that i will definitely need to write about it after it’s done.

i think this is a good time to end today’s entry as im slowly getting a headache. i’ll put on some lofi and finish painting my nails (im doing a pearly white color, it’s a bit shiny but really pretty), then head to bed. i have to work on a project for wednesday and i’ll need all the energy i can get.

r.

[sociieties]

" since i actually know what you guys are like, it was a mix of your ball skills and your actual personality. which, actually reflects one another more times than not. " his head tilts. he didn't notice until now. " at least with you three, it does. "

makoto raises a brow. internally, he doesn't know if he should be offended or complimented. offended, he takes it.

" are you asking me as your friend or as a judge? "

" go with both? "

" it's probably about the same anyway. " kazuya doesn't fight the way his laugh slips out, soft and nothing more than an amused breath made gentle giggle. " i don't know why it would be one or another if it came to both of you playing together. if you play a duet, it's supposed to be played together, not one over another. considering the two of you... how you two play and interact, it would be impossible to only notice one and not the other. focus on one and not the other, then it doesn't sound right. one cannot notice tatsu without noticing shuu, and vice versa. "

" i thought you said you barely thought about it? " makoto's doing nothing but digging.

" which is still true, it's just easier to think about them together, sometimes. you know? " and kazuya cares not if the answer is no, he moves along easily enough. " anyway. " gaze shifts onto shuuzou, staring for a moment since tatsuya said something about pain meds. " violins are center stage, but the sound itself, when it's well played is one of the best mediums for emotional expression. i personally see it as an amplifier, for both the person playing and the people listening. tatsu gets the piano because he's quiet. that and the base range of understanding and output. you can find it anywhere, even if places you don't expect it to be, expressed emotion in piano is placed very intentionally. "

" right... " makoto nods slowly, once again feeling like the odd one out, strangely. what kazuya says makes sense, which makes makoto turn his attention back towards the other two, watching the both of them while speaking. " and i don't get an instrument, why? "

" you struggle with sound. wait, no. you struggle with expressing that sound, in the sense of being able to pick one thing and be understood. i think that's why i feel like you'd turn a happy song sad if it's not for you. you-you-you — " the way he's struggling to explain makoto is only funny to him because he thinks it's the same way makoto struggles to explain himself. " mako, you are multiple things at once. you cannot express yourself one way because you are not just one thing. the same goes for others, but it's more prominent in you. you're a song because you need multiple things to be seen, heard, and understood. you create yourself, throwing in loud and quiet things that play both, with and over one another and there's no way for one person to express it. with shuu and tatsu, i feel like they can, but you can't. mako, you're not a solo, you're not even a duet, you're an entire chorus. "

tatsuya blinks, when kazuya starts in on him - not expecting a very in-depth answer and he almost feels embarrassed. almost. being the key word there. he blinks at kazuya's interpretation of shuu - and thinks to himself that is the gayest shit he's ever heard spewed from kazuya's mouth -- but curiosity pushes him further, " so if shuu and i did a duet - since pianos and violin's go together more often than not - which would have the attention ? " shuuzou blinks, and moves his head enough to look up at best friend, head tilting. " stupid. it'd be you obviously. " tatsuya quirks a brow down at his best friend, before he moves his gaze towards kazuya and shrugs. " wanna explain that shuu ? " he questions, gentle as a hand comes up to press into the other's head, and shuu's brow furrow. " i'm not sure where kazuya was going with his own interpretations -- but if you ask me, it's like -- " lips tilt downwards into frown as he struggles for words to explain himself, " you're like your mirage shot almost. there and not there. and when you're there -- you just can't help but to watch or to pay attention or to pick up on what movements you do ? " he trails off into question , before he shakes his head. " no. that's not right. it's like -- when you're there you're going to be noticed no matter what. it's like when i first met you and i forgot how to speak in every language and just stared because i forgot how to breath. you have this aura about you that captivates people that i don't have. " " aw shuu that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. those pain meds must really be working you huh ? " " shut up. i wanna know why zu says i'm a violin, you're a piano and mako is a song. "

[rhas-writes]

Zhongli Had to Start Somewhere - Morax x Reader

A continuation of my Ex-archon Reader! thoughts, but is very readable as a standalone. Uses you/your, so no pronouns.

Spoilers! for Zhongli's backstory. Keep in mind, I built off the canon so not all the information is true.

Content? Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst.

- - -

Ripe in his youth, Morax cannot see the appeal of companionship. A relationship established without contracts? He scoffs at the thought. The only connections worth creating were those with benefits. And you - a god much older, much wiser, much more powerful than he - is such a connection.

Your insistence to call him a friend wears on his rigid view of life as the decades roll past. Annoyingly enough, you too catch the moment his amber eyes shimmer at the plan to sip tea with the other adepti and gods. It's embarrassing to say the least, the great Lord of Geo made to eat his own words like a starved man. You don't tease him though, not in the moment anyways, you simply send him a knowing smile. You're gracious like that.

Morax thinks he's grown too soft as you and Guizhong braid glaze lilies into his long dark brown hair. But when the childish giggles float on the breezes of Mt. Hulao, he isn't upset at the revelation.

When the first seeds of love root in his chest, Morax blames you. You and your fondness for all beings is the only explanation for him feeling such human emotions.

Humans. Fragile, weak, in need of protection. Morax thinks lowly of the sentient creatures roaming Teyvat. But once again, you shove such words right back into his mouth. You show him the intelligence, the passion, the ambition of humanity. You wipe away his ignorance and replace it with respect, one that recognizes the worth of lower beings.

Morax wonders why he entertains your mundane activities, but he already knows the answer, he just ignores it. It's the little things, you answer when he mutters the question under his breath, which makes absolutely no sense.

Right now, he's supposed to be watching the sky paint itself lavender and pink to mark the beginning of a new day but he finds you to be a better view. Art, he's familiar with the creative outlet, - after all, it is a hobby of yours - familiar enough to know no being could ever create something as stunning as you.

The Archon War begins with hesitance that easily crumbles into an unquenchable thirst for power. It is only you and Guizhong keeping him from succumbing to such desire. Morax focuses on protecting his shared people with the God of Dust, fulfilling his end of an unspoken contract. There are pangs of guilt and grief when some inevitably die and he remembers why he built his walls so high.

Longing is not a feeling he is accustomed to but is forced to face it when the War keeps him from you. Unlike him, you have no people, no land. Your battles are all throughout Teyvat, fighting for those unfairly caught up in the wrath of gods. It's admirable, really, but Morax is selfish and he wants you at his side.

Even the strongest stone will crumble when hit properly, Morax knows this. He knows, yet he carves tunnels beneath blood soaked soil to see you. He is spent and exhausted after felling other gods but it's inconsequential when your light illuminates the tight space he's made.

His perseverance is further rewarded when you press a jewel tasseled earring into his palm right before you part. And there's that knowing smile plastered on your face as you turn away, the other half of the jewelry swinging with your hair. These moments may be small, mundane even, but they warm his heart in a way no flame can.

Irony is cruel, coming at the worst of times as Morax watches his dear friend turn to dust. He loses himself in a rampage that lays waste to once fruitful land. The night comes and he sits in crimson - loathing his younger self, the one so far removed from others, he cared not of their lives.

He knows it's your hand on his shoulder bringing him out of spiraling thoughts because who else dares touch a god bathed in the blood of his enemies? You speak to him softly, tenderly holding him, treating him like he's fragile.

"I will not lie and tell you this pain leaves with time. Instead, I will remind you how change is inevitable. It will come on a whim and do as it pleases, but it comes nonetheless."

Morax earns the name Rex Lapis as he establishes Liyue Harbor, a new home for his people. One that will stand until time itself erodes away the city. Oh, how far he's come...

Pride swells in his chest when you take your divine seat. The Archon War has come to an end and he can finally claim you as his. Just the thought gets him giddy, he's not ignorant to the favor you easily garner from others.

Morax's face rivals that of a silk flower bush when you reject his marriage contract. Embarrassed and confused he stands frozen with his mouth ajar. You don't want any contract? You want the love you share to be what binds the two of you? He thinks it's naive, silly, dare he say childish. But his opposition is short-lived because he loves you. If he must live millennium after millennium witnessing the joys and tragedies of life, then he will do it with you.

All of Celestia quakes as the archon meeting reaches its peak. The reason for the empty seat now speaks volumes. Runic lines glow against black to pale skin. If looks could kill, the heavens would have fallen. But there's a smugness in the ones giving such awful orders. A smugness that reminds Morax and the six other archons that they are not as powerful as they think.

For once, the great God of Contracts finds himself on the losing end of a deal. The Osmanthus wine, your favorite, in his hand is heavier than he remembers. He ascends the stairs to your abode, reaching the threshold he stills. His amber eyes draw over the small nation you preside over. A transparent golden dome protects it for all the times you are elsewhere in Teyvat, will it remain without you?

Dinner with your friends and lover, a tradition you have all of them partake in on the turn of a new decade. Everyone is smiling, laughing, the weight of being an archon lifted off their shoulders for a night. Well...that's how it normally is. This evening is different as the pressure to fulfill their duty has never been so heavy on seven of the eight attendees.

The effects of the dark liquid effortlessly poured into your glass by your husband is quick. One moment you're elegantly seated at the round table and the next you're haphazardly stumbling around the room.

Morax forces himself to watch the variety of imbued weapons sink into the skin he pressed adoring kisses to every night. He fights every instinct to look away when he meets your unreadable gaze. He lets your beloved familiar spread its wings across your chest in a useless attempt to save you. He does all this because it's the least he could do.

Atop Mt. Tianheng, Liyue's archon looks over the city he's protected for over a millennium. Your work is done for the day, a phrase he heard in passing, now replaying in his head. The sea breeze causes a small tassel to tickle the left side of his neck. Change comes nonetheless, the voice he longs but does not deserve to hear reminds him. His decision becomes clear. You always believed in humanity's capabilities, so he shall give them a chance to prove themselves. Prove that change has indeed come.

- - -

Published: 11 May 2022