#because her family desperately needs the marriage to go through because Reasons

[thunderandsage]

i usually stick to chaotic alignments for my characters (usually good old-fashioned chaotic good with a dollop of chaotic neutral), but two sessions into a new campaign and playing a lawful character—specifically, the intentionally honor, rule and tradition-bound lawful character—has turned out really fun in terms of roleplay with the other characters, especially because most of the others are closer to chaotic and/or neutral alignments and the ensuing friction is so interesting

[brokenmenswhore]

lessons | aegon ii targaryen

pairings: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: in search on the streets of silk for your husband, you find his brother in a compromising position

warnings: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), i’ve never written smut before so that’s a warning in itself

part 2

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“Where is Aemond this morning?” you asked.

“I do not know, My Lady,” your handmaiden answered answered, “my apologies. He has not been seen since right after supper.”

You nodded.

You always felt a disconnect from your husband, your marriage existing mostly for political reasons. You weren’t sure where he went at night, but you had your suspicions, and you weren’t attached to him enough to let them bother you. You actually found yourself more attracted to his older brother, but he was already married, so it couldn’t matter.

Your handmaidens prepared you for the day before allowing you to leave your apartment.

“I think tonight we should all have breakfast together, don’t you?” Alicent spoke from behind you as you walked down the Red Keep halls.

Her voice caught you off guard. “Your Grace, yes, I think that would be nice.”

She smiled. “I think now, more than ever, we need to stress the importance of family. If you could wrangle in that husband of yours, it would be greatly appreciated. I already told Aegon, but he’s run off of course.”

“I will do my best,” you promised her.

She gave your arm a squeeze before walking away, the Commander of the King’s Guard close behind her.

Trying to find Aemond was almost useless. He grew up in King’s Landing, and knew every secret passageway, every shop, every darkened corner- and you barely knew your way around the Red Keep alone. You didn’t know King’s Landing, and you couldn’t outsmart them if you tried. But you knew men.

“Liyana,” you whispered, shuffling back into your room. Your handmaiden was rearranging the bed when she looked up at you. “Yes?”

“How do I get to the Street of Silk?”

Liyana’s eyes widened and she inhaled a deep breath. “My Lady, do forgive me, but whatever would you need there?”

You sighed, wanting to get along with this search, suspecting Aemond to be there every night, not realizing your handmaiden would be such an obstacle to overcome.

“I have my reasons, I promise, please. I don’t know my way around King’s Landing. I trust you. I need you,” you begged, “please. I think my husband is there. I need to retrieve him. Please.”

Liyana took pity on you and the desperation in your voice. “Quickly, if anyone sees you there it will bring even more gossip toward the Targaryen name. And I am only doing this because I like you.”

You gave Liyana and thankful smile as she fetched hooded robes to travel through the streets. While a few months ago, you could remain anonymous, the whole of King’s Landing attended Prince Aemond Targaryen’s wedding, and you are unfortunately not hard to spot, as the only (honorary) Targaryen without the staple silver hair.

“Luckily Aemond can’t be hard to miss,” you whispered to Liyana, “the man is a giant.”

This caused Liyana to giggle. She had never done something like this, and never been treated so friendly by someone she had to serve.

The further into the street you walked, the louder the moans got. At every turn, there was a woman crying out in pleasure, a pleasure you didn’t understand. You had had sex, once, on your wedding night and it was nothing like what you were witnessing. Were these woman okay? Were you the one who wasn’t okay? Was this how men wanted their wives? Why wouldn’t Aemond just tell you this?

You felt strange peeking into the rooms with cracked doors, through every curtain, into every crevice with bodies to check for Aemond.

“I must return, please, My Lady. Will you be safe?” Liyana questioned.

“Yes, I will be just fine. Thank you for your assistance. Return safely,” you replied.

Liyana smiled and walked away.

You continued scanning every street corner to no avail, until you decided to check the brothels. You didn’t really want to go in one, but you figured Aemond would know better than to be so obvious with his infidelities.

You snuck into one of the brothels, feeling gross about creeping on every couple or throuple, but anyone who caught you looking didn’t seem to mind. You peeked through one cracked door, and that’s when you saw him.

Aegon was laying naked on the bed, a girl in between his legs, his cock down her throat. You gasped but quickly covered your mouth to avoid being heard.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You watched as a sigh left his lips, head thrown back as he grabbed the back of the woman’s head.

A part of you felt constant pangs of jealousy, but a part of you felt… good? There was an inexplicable throbbing between your legs that you couldn’t place.

Aegon bunched up the woman’s hair and began to push and pull her up and down, groaning and whimpering as he did so. His other arm held him up on his elbow, watching what the woman was doing to him. It was like nothing you’d ever seen.

That’s when someone bumped into your back, pushing you into the door, causing you to stumble through the door.

The woman halted, trying to pull her mouth off of him, but Aegon held her on. He didn’t stop for anything, looking you straight in the eyes while he continued to move her head up and down.

You coughed and began to turn out of the room. “I- uh, I’m just-“ you pointed out the doorway, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna go.”

You rushed out of the brothel, realizing you had no clue where you were. You spun around a few times before completely giving up, ready to just ask the woman at the front of the door how to get back to the Red Keep.

“Y/N!” Aegon called, running out the door in hopes of catching you.

You hid your face from him, blush obvious and a statement of how ashamed you felt.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asked casually, as if you didn’t just see what you just saw.

“I was looking for Aemond,” is all you could say.

“All the way down here?” Aegon tsked, “not likely.”

This frustrated you. “No, I really was! I figured he was here. I was just looking for him when I saw-“

Aegon gave you a wide grin, waiting for you to finish the sentence. “When you saw what?”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

Aegon sighed in such annoyance at the title that he actually threw his head back and then walked closer to you.

“If you call me ‘Your Grace’ or ‘My King’ one more time-“

“You’ll what?” you retorted.

Aegon had always hated when you called him by a proper title. It always made him angry, and he always threw his hands up before saying something like, “fuck, would you just call me Aegon? For the millionth time-“

Aegon smiled. “Do you understand what you just saw?”

The question caught you off guard. You didn’t really want to answer it, but you knew there was no way out of this, and besides, Aegon probably knew the way home. “No.”

“Do you wish to?”

“Do I wish to what?” you asked for elaboration.

“Do you wish to understand?”

It felt as if there was a right answer and a wrong answer, but seven hells if you weren’t inclined to pick the wrong answer. You hadn’t found Aemond, which means he may not be committing infidelities after all, but you also hadn’t checked every brothel. Even if he was cheating, does that mean you could? Your marriage felt like nothing more than a legally binding contract, so was it even really cheating?

“Aemond doesn’t have to know.”

You looked at Aegon and contemplated his words. “Is he here?”

“How should I know?”

“I don’t know, you’re related.”

“You’re married to him.”

You raised your eyebrows in a “fair enough” kind of way. You wanted to understand so bad, to act on this excitement you felt when you saw him in there with her, but you were so scared.

“What happens on this street is not for the Red Keep, Y/N,” Aegon spoke, gently moving your hair to one side, “it can be just you and me.”

You nodded your head yes as Aegon led you to the room you had caught him in. The woman was still in there, waiting for his return.

“Get out,” he commanded, eyes never leaving yours.

“Me?” the woman asked.

His eyes were still on you when he said, “yes. Out.”

He held coins out in his hand for her to grab as she passed, exiting the room and allowing Aegon to close the door.

“Does doing this kind of stuff make you feel better?” you asked, curious as to what he was doing down here so early in the morning, especially when you knew he was dealing with a lot.

“In more ways than one, darling.”

The pet name made you shiver.

“What has Aemond taught you?” he asked.

You looked at him confused. “How to make a babe.”

“That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.

“I really don’t know what more there would be to it then that,” you admitted honestly.

Aegon sighed at your innocence. There was a whole world of pleasure out there that he could teach you about.

“Do you trust me?” Aegon asked.

“Yes.”

Aegon removed your hooded cloak and made quick work of anything on your torso, leaving your breasts exposed. He quickly attached his mouth to one, sucking like it had been forever since he was given what he needed. This you didn’t need an explanation for. Aegon’s mommy issues were obvious.

Once he made significant work of almost bruising your boobs, he stood back up, and moved his face toward yours.

“Fuck, Y/N, please let me kiss you.”

All the tension that had been building in you from the second you saw him that first time, ethereal, seated on the Iron Throne, came crashing down. You grabbed his head and pulled him into a heated kiss, not even allowing time for anything soft or gentle. Aegon moaned into your mouth, one of his hands finding its way to your underclothes. He began to very gently rub on top of your underclothes, causing you to squeak into the kiss.

“Sh, angel, it’s okay, it’s supposed to feel like that. Have you never touched yourself here?”

You blushed. “To- ha- myself?”

“Again, I just can’t find it in me to believe you.”

You let out a soft whimper as Aegon’s hand made it’s way under your small clothes, a finger running up and down right in between your folds. Your legs buckled a bit from the pleasure and sensation of the unfamiliar touch, and you grabbed Aegon’s shoulders. He noticed your struggle, and pushed you until you were back against a wall.

“Feel good?” he checked.

“Mhm,” was all you could get out.

“Use your words, angel,” he commanded, “tell me it feels good.”

You let out a moan. “It f- feels good.”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, moving further down to slowly insert his middle finger into your soaking wet hole.

You gasped, not used to the unfamiliar sensation. He simply watched you, seeing how your face contorted with every push and pull of his finger, as his thumb began to rub circles on your clit. He leaned down to kiss your neck, biting down hard before licking and kissing at the bruise. You instinctively threw your head back, giving him more access to your neck as he continued to touch you. You let out whimper after whimper, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon.

He pulled his hand out, pushing your underclothes all the way down and directing you to lay on the bed.

“What you just saw?” he started, “it feels like this, but for me.”

You were about to ask what he meant when he grabbed your thighs, forcibly holding them apart as his tongue licked a long strip in between your legs. He couldn’t resist immediately eating you like a man starved, tongue twirling and flicking like he was deranged and his only sanity was watching you come.

He re-entered a finger into your hole, mouth still focused on your clit, and then entered another finger into your hole, curling both when they were fully inserted.

You remembered what you had just walked in on, and you grabbed the back of Aegon’s head, lightly pulling on his hair. Aegon moaned at the pulling, sending vibrations straight through your core, causing you to shiver.

He continued his assault on you until you felt a strange and unfamiliar feeling, like all the tension in your body was rising at a rapid rate.

“I feel you, angel, let go for me.”

At his words, the tension broke, and you came onto his fingers. He left them inside of you until your legs stopped shaking, pulling them out and making eye contact with you before he put both fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean of your juices.

You took a second to reset, but when you did, you sat up and said, “do we switch places now?”

“Catching on quickly, I see,” Aegon smiled, “you ready to learn?”

You nodded, sinking to your knees as he sat with his legs hanging off the bed.

“You have to be a good girl for me, can you do that?” Aegon asked you, and the question went straight to your core.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Aegon.”

“Try again.”

You looked up at him. He constantly told you not to call him by a title and insisted you only called him Aegon. Was it because the title ignited something within him?

“Yes, My King.”

“Perfect,” he hummed.

After giving his cock a few strokes, he reached out for your hand. “Put this hand here,” he said, showing you how to grab the base of his length with your right hand, “and you can move your hand up and down when your mouth can’t take all of me.”

“So I just- do it?” you asked.

“If you’d like,” Aegon said.

You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the head, opened your mouth, and began sinking onto his length.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “good job, just watch your teeth. Hollow out your cheeks, good girl.”

You did as he said, getting a bit more comfortable with how to perform the act. You began experimenting with moving faster, and with moving your tongue around, licking the tip of his cock as you bobbed your head.

Aegon grabbed your head, just as he did the woman, and started to take liberties with his own pleasure. He threw his head back, whines leaving his lips as he began to hit the back of your throat. You gagged, but he quickly worked to calm you down, saying “relax, baby, that’s part of it, just breathe through your nose- fuck.”

You continued to obey, doing whatever he suggested, until you felt the muscle spasm and a hot, bitter liquid hit the back of your throat.

Aegon held your head for another moment, ensuring everything had gone into your mouth before pulling out.

Even when he pulled out, he moved to hold your mouth closed as he said, “swallow.” You did as he asked before he loosened his grip. “Good girl.”

You stayed there, on your knees, waiting for his next instruction. He stood up, tucked his cock back into his breeches, and held out his hand to assist you up. You looked at him confused, having not even gotten to the part you actually knew.

“Angel, it’s early and we have a breakfast to attend, I can teach you more later.”

[vampyrial]

A World For Her Alone | Sisyphus

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

cw (chapter specific): child neglect, very vaguely implied forced prostitution, death, abuse, poisoning, suicide, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, arranged marriage, infidelity

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: we take a brief intermission from claude's suffering to examine what the fuck is wrong with reader's family

author's note: me and my husband we're sticking together🎵

Claude lingered around your parents’ manor like a ghost after you died. In the middle of the night, every night, he found his way to your bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed you’d died in, remembering the shape your body formed in the sheets. The room still smelled of your blood and sweat, though the room had been cleaned up by the maids as soon as your body was taken out of the room. Your absence was starker than your presence. After the funeral, Diana expressed that she wanted to go home, heavily implying she would leave if he came with her but Claude was no longer beholden to her wants. He had no reason to care whether she came or went.

He was wielding grief as the knife he held up to cut deeper into himself in hope that if he only suffered enough, his hands would wash clean of your blood. But in the end, he had already decided to live, if only because he could do nothing else. Morbid thoughts plagued him, swirling around his head like unquiet spirits begging him to give in. He thought perhaps he should cause his own ruination and this time, live with it. He thought he should make for certain that both of your houses are set aflame and collapsing on top of the lot of you, to bury and burn your sycophant parents, his helplessly selfish wife and even his own child. He thought that nothing should be spared from complicity. He knew not anymore if he truly believed that it would save you, or if this was what some divine terror was willing him to do even still, but he began to long for punishment. It became catharsis, the thought of being punished.

He roamed through the house you grew up in, searching for any trace of you that survived, as if some inkling of you would help him to save what had already been lost too many times. Even so, it was automatic for him at this point, no longer even really a choice. He had no direction, only frantic need pulling him toward the doomed task. He was trying to get to the dregs of a goblet of wine which never ran dry, he kept drinking until he was sick but never satisfied, never finished.

Your parents’ manor was an eerie place, he’d always thought. Wind blew in from an opened window in the hall and the house seemed to breathe, and its hollow bones creaked softly. Despite her gentle ultimatum, Diana could not actually follow up on it, she must have known that but she believed better of him at the time and thought that everywhere she went, he would follow her like a lovestruck teenager again. There were things to be done at manor that she could not neglect as its lady even if he chose to neglect his own duties. She had come into her own as a marchioness, no longer the shy and unassuming lady that lay in bed sick day in and day out. She would not leave the territory without management though he knew she desperately wanted him to come back home. She seemed dazed to return home without her husband for that purpose, for the lament of a sister she had infinitely more right to grieve so egregiously. Even after all those years, the silly girl was only just beginning to grow aware of the disparity of marriage.

Somehow he felt it was hard for her to reconcile that she wasn’t a precious young lady anymore. Even as he was mired in a pool of half catatonic grief, she dared ask him to leave with her because she truly expected he would do so if she did. Had she not grown out of the habit of expecting to be near worshiped no matter what that her parents instilled her? He remembered how she was after your funeral, when he was sitting in the dark of a guest room. She had come to him, tried to hold him, to kiss him; believing all this would be a comfort and not a further indignity. She’d had arrogance enough to look hurt as he pulled her from him and recoiled from her touch. She must have still believed she was the cure to all ills because she was once more in a house where she was always treated as though she truly were.

He found his way to the library where you’d spent much of your life, if Felix’s word was truth. He brushed his fingers along the spines of the books, looking for the one that he left his missive in, the one Diana read and did not want understand. He searched through the categories of books that contained subjects you three would have studied together as he could not remember which particular book it was, but even after pulling all the books and flipping through the pages, he couldn't find the letter. He wondered if you had ever even set eyes on it once before Diana got to. Had it been your catalyst to run away? Had you read the note and understood that the effort of trying to be happy at his side was a fool’s errand? Was he again the cause of your downfall?

As he gave himself to thought of you, he continued looking through your family’s collection of books. It was all fairly standard and even a bit utilitarian, lacking any of the fanciful novels so beloved by many young nobles. He assumed if there were any, they’d be in Diana’s room because they’d be bought for and read by her alone. But there was something that struck him as he roamed around the shelves, his eyes scanning aimlessly for a book that looked as if it had been perhaps been misshelved. It was subtly tucked into the highest shelf but it still stood out to him eventually among droll guides, needlework books and encyclopedias emblazon with gold lettering. It was hastily bound looking more like a journal and it was worn, unlike the rich and well maintained leather of the other books and it was small, leaving a wide gap between the top of the shelf and the top of the book. Its spine did not read a title.

When he pulled the book, he understood what it was. Its title read “The Princess and The Knight,” signifying it was some common, tawdry romance novella. Still, he began to read it, the absurdity of its place in a house so heavy and serious intriguing him. Could this book have belonged to you? Could it have been an escape for you who was locked firmly out of girlhood when you were only just betrothed? When he’d read the title, his mind flashed with the memory of your face as Felix’s body fell into the dirt in front of you. He remembered how fiercely Felix had protected you even in this life. The rage and grief in his voice when he came for retribution. Though he knew you were ever dutiful and if there was love between you and Felix, it was never more than courtly, maybe you had seen this book and it had reminded you of some place where it could be more.

The story revolved around the love affair of a princess from a bloodline with an affinity for magic fleeing her country at wartime and being assigned a knight from the neighboring kingdom she sought refuge in. The two began a passionate and sanguine love affair in secret, all while living under of the tension of war and the threat of both of them losing everything to their love. But when the war was won, thanks in part to the wits of the two characters, and peace spread over the kingdom, she and her knight were able to be wed and live happily ever after. He had been searching for you in the pages, interpreting the knight and the princess, looking for traces of a love you might have had once. He had been looking for you so closely in every word that he hadn’t realized the grander scale of things until the end; when he flipped over the last page to read the epilogue, on the blank side of the page he saw a sketch. 

The drawing was finely, intricately done in ink and resembled…Diana. The owner of this book had drawn Diana so vividly, yet there were a few differences in the likenesses of the two. This woman had long spools of curly hair spilling over her shoulders and a mole near her gently smiling lips. She was older than Diana must have been when the book was written. She looked like the heroine that had been described in the novel. For some reason, he found himself fixated not in awe or admiration but in mind numbing shock. He could feel the love that went into each stroke of the pen and a knot formed in his stomach the longer he stared. It was uncanny in a house like this, to find anything that should mark vulnerability or simple folly. He recalled an occasion where your father had gifted her a portrait he’d made of her and their daughter. Though two different mediums, the style looked so similar. From what Claude saw, it seemed that your father seldom made art of anyone but Diana. Your father surely had not been so passionate about a throwaway romance that he had ignored his bias and poured so much love into an image of the heroine.

The only one who could be so brazen as to have a romance novel among his books wherein which they lovingly drew an almost intimate image of a woman, worn with the spine slightly bent from being handled so many times— not even properly hidden away, would be your father. Your father who paraded his illegitimate child, born from a mistress. The revelation gave him pause. What did Claude truly know about Diana? He couldn’t remember having ever asked her if she’d known her mother because she so resolutely accepted the countess as her only mother. But this woman sketched onto the page of a well loved romance, was this her mother? She looked as if she could be. Portraits of Diana hung in exposed parts of the house, he did not seem to care that the custom of having an illegitimate child was to have them separate from one’s “official” family, to not love a child born of one’s own lust so openly. Even if one had a particular love of their mistress and child, he would simply put them up in a nice mansion close enough for him to come and go but your father had your mother raising his illegitimate child. He celebrated her birthdays lavishly and even allowed her to go to the academy. He absolutely refused to hide her, to show shame in her. So why was this woman Claude presumed to be Diana’s mother who was clearly beloved by him even now, shut up in the back of a romance novella?

A thought occurred to him then, that perhaps the otherworldly force pulling him into Diana, entangling him in her was not otherworldly at all. Perhaps it had not originated in him alone as some primordial curse formed around him before there even was a him. He thought of just how besotted he was with Diana the first time he met her in each life, how the greater part of him felt foreign. He thought of your mother’s unusually devoted love for a child that wasn’t her’s, a product of her husband’s disloyalty. Something inside him thought that the answer lay at Diana’s feet. In her very blood, he was convinced, was the answer. 

Such a tenderly written romance, signed with a carefully drawn illustration of the woman who could be Diana’s mother. The part of “The Princess and The Knight” which struck him so was the bit about the princess possessing capacity for magic. It was not mentioned much nor utilized greatly in the plot but it made an impression. Magic users had decreased over the years, their powers waning until they were unheard of entirely. To anyone else who read the novella, it must have given the story to a bit of fantasy but to Claude, it was almost uncanny. He could not take it for an unassuming romance. To him, the story hid some truth under its veneer, for it was no coincidence that the princess resembled Diana so and that it ended up under the same roof as her, worn with years of eager hands flipping back over the pages. The princess’ power was never described in detail but if she were based on a real woman, then perhaps she had something to do with his situation.

He might’ve gone to Diana right then for answers but he feared his body might be taken over again at any time. He did not want to see her, did not want to feel the familiar paralysis of affection reaching up through his body. He did not want to see himself bed her again while the memory stood frozen in his eyes. Each time he saw her after he’d been set free, he’d worried that it would happen again. That his body would betray his mind and he’d never find anything of substance to end the cycle of misery the two of you shared. And he was committed to the task of trying, even if he could never succeed. He was ready to succumb to the greater sense of careworn madness he found in you.

He decided to explore the unattended corners of your home further, thinking there would be— must be more. If ever Diana’s mother had lived here, someone left a trace that he intended to find. He might’ve asked your father directly but as much as he was a lickspittle, something told him that your father would be afflicted by the same paralysis of mind that he had when he belonged to Diana. Unable to share the love he held for her but unable to hide it either, culminating in a pathetic sort of half-baked defensiveness. He wasn’t likely to get anything out of that, even you hadn’t been able to get anything out of him when he was like that. Worse still, he might try to cover up all that he kept that ever indicated Diana’s mother had lived there once, that she had a name and a face. And then what?

No, it was better this way. Better to find it all before he got the chance to hide any of it.

Your parents were still in the house, seemingly without intention of asking him when he was going to leave but there was still a bit of anxiety in the air when they entered the room. He could tell that they very much wished for him to return to their daughter and make her happy again as she was destined to be. It was awkward that their son-in-law had a longer bereavement than your sister did. But still being the cowardly sycophants they were, they could not ask him to leave for her sake—only “encourage” him by tossing out little updates on Diana. “Diana and our grandchild miss you very much,” “Diana takes ill so easily when she works so hard, we should hope you’ll be well enough to go back to her soon,” “Diana sends her love and wants you to know she’s there for your sake.”

Claude wouldn’t care if Diana’s life hung by a thread and he was all that could spare her, frankly and he brushed off all responsibility in favor of giving himself to his task. It was shameless, he knew, but he’d given up everything inside of the barren, hollow shell of his self to save you. It was a task that had already and would yet again supersede death, birth and the enveloping void he fell backward into each time his life was ended. He waited until they inevitably visited Diana, likely to calm her worries with lukewarm supplications about his grief, to go searching in the other parts of the house uninhibited. For, even if the servants were to tell their lord and lady, he’d already have looked through every corner he intended before they’d have a chance to move things around to better hide them.

He started with Diana’s old room. When he walked in, he was surprised to find it was left exactly as childish as it had been when she was only a young miss. Just the scent of the air turned his stomach, heavy and cloying with a pungent smell of medicine that was still sitting on her night stand in a small white bottle. He frowned as something fell clumsily into place. It hit him like the stray sour note of a violin. He recognized the bottle. Where did he last see this bottle?

For how preoccupied he was with the revelation taking slow form, he did not realize that Felix had entered the room until he heard the distinctive sound of a sword unsheathed. He did not turn.

“Felix.”

“Lord Claude,” Felix acknowledged, his voice struggling to keep its softness. “I might’ve known you’d be here. You truly cannot help yourself, it’s like a sickness.”

“Yes, it is very much like that,” Claude agreed easily. “But I’m not here for what you imagine I am.”

“I’m not so sure it matters, my lord.” Felix’s voice was flat.

“Nor am I. But I need you to let me live just as long as it takes for me to make sense of this.”

Felix went quiet for a moment but nothing about the situation made Claude think it was because the knight was going to hesitate. On the contrary, he was sure that his sword would swing just as neatly. “Do you know where I found my lady chained up, my lord? There are places, you know, that they bring women who had no other place to turn. You must know. You were at her side every night when we brought her back, you saw what toll it took. You saw what had been done.” Felix took a shallow breath. “You’re asking me to spare you so that you can make sense of whatever it is your farce of a marriage is built on? When my lady was given no such pardon? I know you’re the head of your house now, honored knight of the crown and you must think yourself above your treatment of others but I assure you, this will be the last time you ever assume so.”

Claude held still, his voice firm even as fear raged through his body. It was not fear for his life or of Felix’s wrath, it was the fear of failing, yet again, to make any movement in saving you. “I know how you think of me, Felix. I know that I have failed my wife. I know that I deserve to die here and now but even so, I can’t.”

“That is no problem, I’ll do it for you.”

Claude smiled joylessly to himself at the devout knight’s words. How could you have been judged so harshly in that life for wanting to run away with him when he so clearly had a loyalty akin to love for you? “You don’t understand. You cannot possibly. But answer me this, do you know who Diana’s mother is?”

The question puzzled Felix but he stood resolutely, ready at any moment to fell Claude’s head. “Everyone else in this household has care for Lady Diana. My duty was to serve my lady, I was the only one and I did not ever lapse. You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Felix, I do not ask for my wife’s sake. I know how this will sound but I’m trying to find out just what exactly it is that Diana holds over me and everyone else. I’m trying to figure out what exactly she is. You have seen it, haven’t you? The disparity between how people treat my wife and how they treat your lady. Do you think it natural to love a daughter born from an affair more than one’s own?”

He heard Felix laugh bitterly. “You believe her to be a succubus? Is that your excuse?”

“No. I believe her to be something worse.” Claude laughed as well, though his was more hysterical than anything. “She rules everything, Felix. Even in death. No, especially so in death. I have lived this life many times. I have died and returned back to the day that I first met her at the tea party. And when I do, I am taken over by her. It feels like love at first, it really does. But then intrusion. And then a curse. It is a cycle of death and resurrection, for myself and for the lady.”

Felix was silent and Claude continued on. “In one such life, she ran away with you, you know. It was raining the night we found you two. You were holed up in some abandoned cottage out there in the countryside, the one with the patches of white clover in the yard and a missing shingle on the roof.”

“What are you saying?” Felix’s voice wavered with near disbelief at the picture he painted but he held firm.

“My knights killed you where you stood and took the lady back to my manor. Your betrothed visited her. She had asked to speak to the woman who had been responsible for your death. She told me you two had planned to get married once the lady and I were finally married and settled in. She could not even mourn you properly because you were compelled to run away with the lady and killed.”

It is clear that Felix still thought Claude had lost his mind but what shocked him was the truth seeded into his madness. How could he have known the intimate arrangements of their betrothal and marriage when even their families had not known the cause for delay? This was not knowledge he could send an errand boy to fetch him nor an illusion he couldn’t hope to keep up, this was lived. It was memory.

“What does that have to do with Diana?” Diana was more likely a seductress than a sorceress in Felix’s opinion. Such a thing as a time loop, how could a girl so weak and childish create something like it?

Claude turned slightly, slowly toward him. “I don’t know yet myself. That is what I seek to find out. So that I can perhaps end it, for the lady at least. I don’t need anything Felix, not Diana, not my child, not my house. All I need and want is for the lady to stop suffering. I only beg you not to hinder me. When the time comes, I swear I will die on my own.”

Felix had no idea what to make of it all. Much of what Claude said seemed stilted, frantic and half thought. Yet he could not help but feel there was a certain sincerity to be had even in the worthlessness of Claude’s promise. And in any case, he was not entirely unfamiliar with the concept that Claude explained but all that it implied, he was not ready to believe. He sheathed his sword again finally and Claude turned to face him with the medicine bottle in hand. “Have you any idea why this would be in Diana’s room? It’s medicine that the lady took before.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “It’s used to treat severe infection. It’s not supposed to be used by just anyone who gets ill. Lady Diana should not have needed that medicine, it would take effect like poison if not administered to someone battling a harsh infection. The doctor sent one of the servants to fetch it in town.”

“Yes, but this bottle is dusty, it’s mostly emptied out and the liquid inside it has congealed. It’s been sitting here for years. The medicine inside is aromatic. It has a distinct smell, doesn’t it? The lady’s room still reeks of it even with the windows opened up. Every time I went into Diana’s room when we were young, I smelled it, I tasted it. That means she was not only taking medicine she did not need but taking it regularly.” Claude said aloud, more to himself than to Felix who had bristled at the way he implied he and Diana were. “Was she…ever even sick?”

“Of course she was. Perhaps madame gave her the wrong medicine. She would not have poisoned herself, far be it from me to defend her but she did not desire to be sick. She seemed to envy the lady for her health, as she saw it.”

“…it was the lady’s mother who administered this medicine?” Claude questioned as new pieces fell together in his mind.

“I only know that the madame came to Lady Diana before bed to give her medicine. I do not know that it was that medicine, I did not see it.” Felix paused. “What is the significance, my lord?” He asked, annoyance creeping into his tone at the extensive talk of Diana.

“I intend to find out.”

He had wished to creep into the madame’s bedroom quickly and easily but the door was locked so they’d needed to fetch the key. Claude was shocked at the amount of sway he had over the servants of a house he was not a part of for the head maid simply handed over the key when he asked for it, albeit hesitantly as though she thought she might be scolded for doing so. When he took in the room, it was tidy and rather plain by aristocracy standards. The room seemed to have a chill about it, there was a draft somewhere that made it feel colder than the other rooms.

He began to pick carefully through her things, looking in every corner of the room for anything hidden. It was all mundane, droll and typical until he reached the last drawer of a dresser that was locked. Sure enough, nine bottles of unopened medicine neatly lined into rows of three. When he tried to pull the drawer out all the way and see what more he could find, it was caught on something that had been pressed against the top. Claude reached in to feel for it and pulled down what looked to be a simple leather bound, worn and yellowing journal.

Immediately he began to read. He was a bit startled at himself when he realized that he was eager to read the contents of his mother-in-law’s mind. He wanted to know how she saw you. How she justified treating you the way she did to uplift a child that was not her’s. A pitiful part of him just wanted there to be reason. He wanted cause for the rift in the relationship. He needed to believe there was a because to your suffering.

But what he read was not as he suspected. In neat, small lettering on the first page, it chronicled her life back to when she had been perhaps 19 years old but it was dated some ten years later. A reflection on her younger self written seemingly less as a journal and more a memoir.

“The princess had always been so gracious a mistress that even her tasks sounded like gifts.

When it was her time to return to her duties in her own kingdom, she resigned to it with great grace. However, she understood that the opposite would be true of her beloved knight. This fragile man only smiled in her company, protected her with wild fervor and once told her that he felt divinely guided to her. That to him, she was the symbol of god’s forgiveness and in serving her, loving her, he saw his life’s purpose. Oh, the princess lamented to me how dark a life her knight had lived, how the blood he shed as a knight haunted him with guilt. How his father had been of a violent sort in his efforts to transform his only living child into a knight of some worth to bring more prestige to their house and in his efforts to vent his own turmoil over his wife taking up with men of far more money, status and legacy than he. Her knight resembled his mother and so became the target of the ire he could not give his wife for the great protection being a mistress to such men afforded her. His mother knew what his father did, she did not care so long as it were not her. My heart came to soften for him too, the more she told me.

He had been a quiet man, shy and quite unknowingly sweet for his reputation as a ruthlessly skilled knight. He opened up to my princess like a flower toward the sun. He loved her so madly that she knew even though it was inevitable, he never intended to be where he could not protect her and stand at her side. The princess feared that their duties as princess and heir to a county respectively would give way to the knight’s devotion. She feared he’d kill himself trying to reunite with her or simply deteriorate under the burden of his own isolation but her own life was dedicated to more than just one person. It was her nation, her home of people waiting to see her return that she could not abandon. So in her stead, she asked me to stay in the kingdom and marry him. To give him a countess and to keep watch of him for anything he might do to interfere in both their duties.

It was a great honor she had given me entrusting someone so precious to me and given me a title higher than that I had been born with, I still feel that way now but I was foolish then and I did not understand the nature of what I was being asked to do. Nor would I until after it was already done.

You see (and it does, still pain me to even write such a silly thing), I did, at the time believe that I would become close to my husband. I viewed it as a matter of course, for I was far from a home I could never return to and he had no one. We were, for each other, the last traces of the princess. Though I could never think to hope for the kind of love that he gave to the princess, I believed that commonality could be nurtured into love or kinship. I wished for someone to turn to as my heart was sinking faster than a stone the longer I spent from my home. I believed it would happen. I believed he would become someone to lean on.

Though the first months of our marriage were cold, I managed to coax him into trying to have children as was our duty. I saw this as progress both in the way of our relationship as well as keeping him from the princess. I viewed even our coldness then as a sign of something beginning. It was only once, afterward, I think he worked very hard so that I would not ask him to do it again. But even so, I found that I was with child soon. I was a stupid girl then, I believed a child was what we needed to grow closer. I brought this news to him with a smile, I must have looked like an idiot.

My husband’s expression, I can never forget it. He was horrified at this revelation. He looked at me as though I’d announced a death. He looked at me as though I had wounded him. Then his beautiful eyes sparkled with unshed tears and his expression reverted to a weak, helpless smile as he said all the right things in his wavering voice.

It was then that I realized he would never love me. He was horrified at having a child with me, it was sheer terror and dread on his face when I told him. Perhaps he thought that I would not become pregnant at all, he would have preferred it that way. I hadn’t the relationship with him to truly comfort him, to know intimately what he feared about my child. I was useless in that way.

Through the following months, my apprehension was near unbearable. I kept feeling my stomach sink in dread, I kept waking up thinking that I would be home. I kept thinking that I had done something irreparable but I could think of nothing which was actually within my control. Therefore, when I finally gave birth, my relief that it was done with was greater than my joy. But that was alright with me because I had intended to deal with things in my own way."

From there, she went on to describe her rigid attention to being a diligent countess for a few droll pages. But at last, Claude came to another thing of significance. Your father had been summoned to court for political matters regarding the civil unrest which had not been quelled with the end of the war. Your mother could not follow him and leave a newborn alone so she had no choice but to simply trust in your father. She would come to regret that.

"My princess appeared like a bolt out of the blue months later. She was dressed as a peasant and had a somewhat bashful smile on her lips. Although I had missed her, all that I could think in seeing her was, "She should not be here."

But we brought her to the study so that presumably, she would tell us why she had returned when she had surely sworn that she could not. She took off her cloak and then I understood without her needing to tell me. I saw a little bump on her otherwise thin body and I was overcome. When my husband had returned to court, he had not been officially permitted to see my princess but they had met anyway and she was now with child. She had waited until she was just about to start beginning to show in order to take leave from court on the pretense of recovering from illness at her villa in the countryside.

I had been given the task of minding him but I had clearly failed. I should have gone with him no matter what. I should have taken the chance and left my child so that I could have prevented this. But my princess looked at me as faultless and took my hands in hers to assure me that she regretted nothing. She comforted my husband who apparently also knew nothing about this pregnancy until then. She knew his fears like the back of her hand, she knew exactly how to soothe them as I hadn't. He did not even have to speak. She simply knew.

Until then, I had not known that my husband dreaded having children for fear they would be cursed and afflicted with the same moral decay that his own parents had; and because he feared that having a child would bring the same thing out of him. Even if I had known, the princess was the perfect one to comfort him. She asked him if he believed a child born of her could be wicked and of course, he said no. She spun such sugary images of their child together for him with her eyes shining with joy. She told him that their child was special, that she did not fear him becoming a parent like his own because their child would change everything about being a father for him. It surely helped that my princess was glowing as she said such things, that the excitement radiating off of her grew stronger with each passing moment. He could not deny her, could not bring himself to contradict her words because he would always believe in her even if he did not believe in himself.

It went unsaid that the princess would be entrusting the child to the both of us. I had much apprehension about taking care of two babies rather than one and the secrets to be kept piling up above me but I could not complain, it had been my job for years to make everything work. I could not stop then when my princess needed me most. In any case, her presence in the manor brought life to a place that had become so eerie to me. She was the only flame in the dark and we were huddled around her, trying to preserve an ounce of warmth within ourselves. She was joyful through her pregnancy, she could not stop talking about the baby she was to have. The more she chattered, the more excited I became too as though I had any right to be. This was true of my husband too, who tentatively felt the kicks of his child and smiled, genuinely smiled as the princess did. I could see that he loved that child.

She slept in the master bedroom with him, after he left each day, I went in to help her get ready for the day. It was though I was still her maid and I suppose I wanted to be, would rather be that than a wife. But I could not bring myself to complain. I was not unlike my husband, I viewed my duties to the princess as somewhat sacred. I was as honored as I was anxious to raise the child.

On the day Diana was born, my husband was at my princess' side the entire time, as though he could protect her as her knight again. I could only marvel at him. When I had given birth, he stood at the foot of the bed stiffly and asked me what I intended to name our daughter, if I was alright and then told me that if I needed anything to have the butler prepare it at once. After Diana was born, my princess was still beautiful, perhaps even more so in her vulnerability. She held the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, close to her chest as my husband looked down at the both of them with sheer joy. It was as though all the happiness in the world existed between those three. My Diana had been born out of love and so it was easy to love her.

I left my own daughter to the maids in favor of caring for Diana when the princess rested. Her little ruby eyes and her head of soft blonde hair captivated me. Each coo or cry had my focus in a fraction of a second.

I had not yet considered the greater implications of her birth until my princess brought it to me. Diana had been born with an inordinate affinity for magic. The princess, as a member of the royal family had the capacity of a mage, it was kept secret through the death of magic that through her bloodline were those capable of miracles. I only knew after years of my proximity to the princess. This child, born in the time of civil unrest, when the queen had not yet been blessed with a child and the civil war had still bitterly divided the houses, was capable of being seen as a potential figurehead that could be used as a pawn in a new round of rebellion.

It was for me and my husband to put her above all things. Above even our own child. That, to me, went without saying for I did love Diana as my own daughter. But the princess knew that anything could happen and she used all of the strength of her magic to cast a spell over her that would be held with Diana's own great magic. My princess nearly expended all her energy to do so. Magic, she had once told me, was seen as a weak form of power because it relied so greatly upon emotion. It was the transformation of want into will. I knew not the details of the spell which bound my mistress' daughter. All my princess said was that her precious Diana would live happily, that for all the odds against her, she still had odds in her favor."

Claude felt numb as he turned the pages. He was in shock, suddenly the environment of the room felt too harsh and stimulating but he was glued to the journal. He could not dare stop reading it no matter what truths arose. So he flipped the page and read every single entry even as his hands trembled.

From then on, it was Diana, Diana, Diana. With each entry, she recorded a measurement which he assumed was the amount of medicine administered and her symptoms. She fretted over whether it was right to give her more or to give her less. She wrote about denying Diana's requests to go outside, to go to the theatre, to do much of anything besides stay in bed. It chilled him to the bone but more than that, perplexed him. He was staring at a page where your mother had seemed to write sloppily, hurried and anxious when he heard a voice.

"Lord Claude?" It was your mother, standing in the doorway.

He looked slowly up at her, at a loss for words and unable to reconcile the cold mother she was to you with her joy at being Diana's proxy mother. Unable, still, to understand why she was poisoning the daughter she loved so much.

"My lord, you should not be in here," she said softly but in her blank expression, it was apparent that she knew what he was there for. "It will look strange to others, for you to do something like this."

"You poisoned Diana," He was keenly aware of how delicately she was trying to dance around this subject but he was unwilling to indulge her.

Your mother did not even blink. "You must understand me, Lord Claude. Please understand."

"What is there to understand? You neglect your own daughter and fawn over your husband's illegitimate daughter only to poison her."

Your mother shook her head slowly as if she could not believe what he was implying. "I love that girl," she said, moving deeper into the room and shutting the door behind her. "Diana is my little princess. She is my only daughter."

A rush of rage ran up his body, carrying an unbearable desire to hurt her. "She's not your daughter at all. She's the daughter of a woman far more beloved than you."

But your mother could only smile helplessly. "Yes, but even so, she is my daughter in heart. You must trust me when I say that Diana was hopeless before."

"Hopeless?" His brow furrowed and a cold feeling creeped up his back, extinguishing his fury and replacing it with a kind of fear for the woman in front of him. "She wasn't hopeless, she was able to wed me, to live happily." He said it not as a defense of her but as an accusation.

"That poor girl. In the first place, she already had a weak constitution, because her magic was stronger than her body but it was the perfect excuse to keep inside and away from the eyes of those who would want to hurt her. But it was my eldest daughter who kept planting false hope in her. She even sent Diana before my husband to beg him to let her go to the academy because she knew very well he could not say no to her." There was venom in her voice, a sneer on her face. Claude rose to stand slowly, not knowing what he was going to do.

"He cannot say no to Diana because he loves her so, no, he loves her mother so," she sighed. "All the other one did was cause troubles. Diana had already given up but she roused such hope in the girl, false hope, cruel hope. If she had not been able to marry you...I do not know how we would have protected her. If my daughter was still alive, everything would be ruined. It was you who saved her, my lord. That is why I beg of you, don't judge me. You know that Diana is special. You must know."

"I did not want to save her, she did not need to be saved."

She remained with that pitiful smile on her face. "My husband is weak to her. He will...he will never forgive what I've done to our- his little princess. He won't understand. He will think that I have killed my princess. You know, he almost sees them as one in the same." She reached onto her desk, picking up a letter opener. "Diana will be hurt if she knows. I ask that you let the girl live her life believing as I told her. She deserves that much. I let her believe what I did because it was in her best interest. Please take care of her."

Before he could react, your mother plunged the sharp end of the letter opener into her throat.

Next

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @coldpeachkitten @brightykitten @worstliving

[buddieism]

eddie and shannon are so deeply tragic to me because it's like... the love was there. they did have love for each other. and eddie loved shannon not because anyone told him to but because he was a shy teenage boy and a girl flirted with him and he thought this makes me happy so maybe it can make me happy enough forever. because he grew up with traditional values and was told he had to be the man of the house and that equation simplifies pretty easily to man + woman + 2.5 kids.

and then shannon gets pregnant. and everything gets a little bit too real because the picture-perfect nuclear family is in eddie's hands now and he's realising he doesn't like it at all. and eddie gets scared and eddie runs away because eddie can't do this but he's still a man he still has to provide for his family and eddie never gives up on his family so he might be hiding in war and bloodshed but he's still providing. because if ramon taught him anything it's that a father can be absent from the home but still fulfil his duties to his family.

and eventually eddie comes back home with three gunshot wounds ripped through him and something deeper broken inside of him but this time shannon gets scared and shannon runs away because shannon became a mother too young and she loves chris and she loves him too much to stay with him and eddie because she thinks they're better off without her... but then she and eddie find each other again. and eddie thinks to himself hey maybe this time we can be happy again because chris needs a mother because my son needs a mother because i'm a man and my son needs a father and a mother and then shannon dies.

and eddie blames himself for his death -- blames himself for christopher losing his mother -- and desperately tries to shove down that gnawing feeling inside of him telling him that there's something wrong with him and instead he clings to his romanticised ideal of shannon and convinces himself that she was the great love of his life and the only reason he can't make it work with anyone else is because he lost his soulmate -- because he cannot let himself acknowledge the possibility that there was something doomed in their marriage because that means acknowledging the Big Scary Thing that eddie refuses to look at.

so when kim comes along of course eddie is going to think he's got this miraculous second chance at doing it right -- to fix the ugly broken parts of himself -- so he takes her out on the lake like he and shannon used to do and he lets her do most of the talking and he doesn't want anything physical from her because all he needs is that perfect image of shannon that he's convinced himself is real. but naturally it all falls apart... and for the first time, christopher diaz runs.

[szkunas]

SORRY, YOU LOST! ౨ৎㅤtoji fushiguro.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤokay, toji needs to admit it. you’re magical, or something because he genuinely intends to change for you, as stupid as that sounds. unfortunately, he decides to go out to gamble one last time. when he returns, his worst nightmare comes true.

featuring ♰ㅤREDEEMED toji fushigiro X fem!reader.

warnings ♱ㅤANGST ! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH ! no happy ending ! toji is a little ooc i guess ! BLOOD + DEATH ! assassination mentions ! violence + murder ! gambling addiction ! toji thinks about making you a housewife ! marriage mentions

author’s note ♱ㅤhi. im not dead, lol. just trying to post a lot of things together. i took a small time for myself, to rest, and now i think i can come back with writing with these posts and the event! <3 i hope you all like it, its my first time trying to write for toji

WHOEVER WAS THE IDIOT who invented pachinko, toji hates them deeply. it was probably some very bored and very greedy man. the world will become a better place when those tired, money-crazy expressions disappear. until then, pachinko machines and gambling games will squeeze every penny out of him. or not. no more.

there is a clear reason why some countries strongly prohibit betting shops and casinos: betting is one of the strongest addictions that runs through the sick and desperate, emptying them of their worries for a few seconds and taking the money from their wallets in exchange.

technically, gambling is prohibited both in japan and in many other places around the world: but pachinko, horse racing and speedboat racing, as well as casinos, exist through loopholes in the law. after all, everyone’s true god is money, and taking all of this off the market would shake the economy of the country that seems forgotten by any god in the eyes of toji.

he knows that spending a lot of money on bets is not the wisest decision to make, but he always has faith that he will win next time, when the next time never comes. however, he only has a percentage of his latest work. the rest was well sent where it would be safe: to you, who keeps the money safe and secure from a murderer addicted to gambling.

toji knows you want a lot. you want him to give up his life as the sorcerer killer, you want him to give up his stupid gambling habit, you want to settle down somewhere quiet and start a family. and he wants that too, even if his heart of stone doesn’t let him show it.

but, he hopes you understand that the mere fact that he lets you sleep next to him at night is a sign of trust. he trusts you not to open his throat with a knife while he sleeps, which says a lot about how he feels about you.

even though your relationship has lasted a long time by his standards, what scares toji is the fact that he doesn’t want to leave. he wants to stay, he wants to come back to you at the end of each mission. he wants to let you take care of his wounds, and he wants to dry your tears when you cry for him. in fact, he doesn’t even want you to cry unless it’s from happiness or pleasure.

which is strange.

he only knew love for one woman, and after her passing, he believed he would never again fall in love with anything other than the green notes that create his happiness and destroy his present simultaneously.

a dead wife and an abandoned child on his resume is not what any woman is looking for in a guy. his difficult personality, his history of lack of commitment, his disappearances for days and his addiction to gambling only make everything worse for him. women are drawn to toji like fish to a hook, but they don’t stay long. it lasts even less if they don’t have money or cut off this source of income from his life.

but when he hears the sounds and clicks of the surrounding machines, he can only think that he would stay with you even if you were living on an old mattress in a dark alley.

because love can be as intimidating as it is overwhelming. it can hit a man’s world with such force that it makes him rise from where he is. make him stop making bad choices and, little by little, improve to give you the life that the woman he loves wants. he looks at the nearest clock and sighs. one last game. one last time, he will spend some stupid change waiting for a prize that never comes.

and from there, who knows? and from there, who knows? stop this idiocy of gambling every last penny, work a little more so you can get by for a few months. maybe start a savings account so when you have kids things will be easier?

he waits, and stops. so many times he has seen the message of defeat on machines similar and different to this one. sorry, you lost. the most common phrase for someone who appreciates dopamine more than money in their pockets. but he is surprised when the winning pattern appears on the machine. a winning one.

toji immediately turns to an employee. okay, that was weird. he usually loses any and all bets. this is probably a sign that this is the right path. who knew, the advice of morally sensible people works. don’t use drugs (they don’t work in his system), don’t overindulge in alcohol (which also doesn’t do anything in his system), be responsible and have a stable job. he just needs to review what he achieves in that last part. sorcerer slaying is not exactly a stable job, which every wife dreams of having a husband working with.

wait, did he just mentally call you his wife? take it easy, clown. first, you have to get past your fifth dating anniversary.

but the idea is undeniably attractive. maybe if he gets some good, well-paying work beyond assassination, you can become a housewife. only if you want, of course. toji will drop dead before he forces you to do something you don’t want to do.

the idea is a little cute — really cute, actually. he loves seeing you coming home from work stressed. seeing you angry makes him strangely excited. it’s like getting turned on by playing with fire, and he just wants to make the flames burn hotter. however, he knows how to respect his space when things get serious. that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you in an office job.

reduced to a sad cubicle, an idiotic boss and customers as miserable as you, anxious for the time to leave or for him to pick you up. this is not the life he wants for you. okay, toji needs his own fucking car to pick you up from work. this goes on the list of what to start buying to have a responsible life.

as he changes the balls in the pachinko machine, he watches the prizes carefully. normally, it’s just junk that you sell in a random store to make real money. but there is a kind of golden pendant, a butterfly. he asks the employee and takes the item in his hands. he’s a bit of a muggle and extremely cheesy, in his vision, but it’s only fair that in his last bet, one of the few ones he wins, the prize goes to you.

you, the true angel that exists on earth. you, patient and caring, who accept his mistakes and didn’t abandon him when he gave you a thousand and one reasons to do so. you, who he would like to see at the altar and have children with. fixing his own life and making his life better, that’s what he must do now. for you.

waving to the employee who is already used to his presence — after all, toji doesn’t plan on seeing him again — he puts the pendant in his pocket and walks peacefully home, lost in thought. some idiot bumps into him in a hurry, but he’s so strangely happy he can’t even stay mad.

the guy in question looks like he’s on something, with his hands in his pockets as if he’s hiding a weapon and his pupils dilated. His paranoid face is looking in all directions, and Toji knows that look — he’s trying to run from trouble. probably fucked it up and attacked someone. toji shrugs.

well, it’s not his problem.

he just takes out his cell phone and presses the call button on your contact. toji wants to go directly home, but if you want some food or some other gift, he would like to know now. your profile picture is actually adorable, and he caught himself just a moment before smiling like a fool.

the nighttime streets of tokyo don’t stop as he presses the phone to his ear. cars go too fast, and night lights make the city seem more alive at night than in daylight. two rings, three. you don’t answer, and toji groans, checking the time before waiting a little longer. it is weird. usually you are the one who calls, or you are the one who answers almost immediately. and it’s too early, so you can’t be sleeping.

maybe you forgot your cell phone at home and went out to get something you forgot at the office. it would be just like you. he can already hear himself teasing you. airhead. he gives up calling when there is no answer after four tries. he doesn't want to look desperate.

his steps are lazy, light. he’s gotten used to walking quietly due to his line of work, but toji has his chest puffed out like someone who knows what he wants in life. this is a new and at the same time well-known occurrence. his second chance just fell into toji’s lap. not all men are that lucky. and he doesn’t intend to waste it, risk everything and lose everything again.

may his past have taught him the valuable lesson of staying close and protecting those you love.

that’s why, when he turns down the street and stops in front of your house (which has also been his house for almost two years), he freezes. there are some police cars parked in front of the door. okay, maybe some idiot tried to rob the house. are you okay? the idea of you getting hurt makes his blood boil.

but his heart sinks like a crushed animal when he sees the ambulance present. no. what the fuck is going on? he quickens his pace, not caring about the yellow tapes — oh, god, there shouldn’t be yellow ribbons. not here. not in your home, not in the safest and happiest place in the world. do not cross slaps him in the face, making his heartbeat increase. is that fear, in the back of his head?

he had goosebumps. not the good kind.

a police officer comes over to talk to him, explaining that he can’t be here, that this is a crime scene, sir. but toji is faster, his hand searching for the pendant he bought you through a stupid gambling game.

“sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave—”

“this is my house, i live here with my girlfriend. what the fuck is going on?”

the police officer stops, as if he didn’t expect that kind of response. he checks something with another officer over the radio, and toji is about to punch everyone to go and look for you. what the hell is going on? he only left for three hours and about ten minutes. this shouldn’t be happening.

his green eyes stay focused on the ambulance, on the house that is being ransacked. your house, god, your wonderful house. he waits for you to come out from behind the ambulance, from one of the doors of the house, for you to come running and for him to hug you. but there is nothing like that. you don’t show up, and he suddenly feels like his throat is closing up.

the officer who owes him an explanation that keeps him calm and tells the truth at the same time — after all, a guy with the size of toji freaking out isn’t what anyone wants to face — gets his attention by gently clearing his throat. he looks like a newbie. excellent. you’re nowhere to be found, and toji is getting explanations from a damn newbie.

“you mentioned you live here with your girlfriend, sir—?” the man inquires, and toji crosses his arms, irritated. “can i ask where you were earlier tonight?”

“fushiguro. i’m fushiguro, yeah, and i live here for, two years now. i was out. buying stuff ‘nd all. why do you need to know?”

the officer sighs, his face sad. “you will need to make a statement later, mr. fushiguro. however, this doesn’t have to be immediately, we intend to respect your time with…”

“with?” toji grits his teeth, nearly snapping. “c’mon. i don’t have all night. where the hell is my girlfriend?”

there are some voices shouting instructions in the background, and toji doesn’t pay attention until something appears in the corner of his vision. he turns his face away more quickly than ever, giving the nervous policeman no time to warn him that he shouldn’t do that. and the sight before him makes him freeze.

the paramedics are zipping up a black bag and putting away the equipment they initially brought. toji is no stranger to blood and dead bodies—his body count is high in more ways than one—but he swears he’s never felt so sick. the butterfly pendant falls from his hands and clicks against the floor, with a slight *clink*.

it’s your body. they are putting your body inside a black bag. god, he only got a glimpse, a second, but he’s sure it’s you. pale, motionless. declared dead.

you, dead.

bile rises up his throat thinking about a million things. If he had arrived earlier, could he have helped? he definitely wouldn’t let that happen, what took him so long with the pachinko machine? Was this random, was this chosen? did they kill you because of him, because of him and his stupid career?

he wonders if you suffered. god, the thought of you scared and screaming as you fight to defend yourself makes toji almost go insane immediately. this is— real. and it is not a nightmare, where he’ll wake up besides you, on the bed. you would smile and comfort him out of his scared thoughts. but no. you won’t ever smile anymore.

never again.

he is so out of it for a moment, it’s as if nothing else exists. his ears won’t stop ringing, and it’s like his head is going to melt at any second. he turns to face the officer, who has been trying to get his attention for apparently five minutes.

“we’re sorry, mr. fushiguro. there was a complaint from the neighbors. we’re still not sure what happened, but it was certainly a homicide. maybe random. as it turned out, someone broke into the house and—”

“murdered my girlfriend.” he completes, his hands clenching into fists. toji excuses himself — and the poor officer can see the pain he’s trying to hide with anger.

he’ll probably get called out for a dozen things. identify your body. give a statement, be ruled out as a suspect, god. like he would even touch you like that. the idea is so disgusting he can’t even process it. but it does not matter. it does not matter anymore. his new, peaceful life? fuck that. you are dead.

and so is his heart. again.

toji walks away from the prying ears of the police, and he hates the fact that his hands are shaking as he calls shiu. and old friend and trustful dealer, he needs to ask two things.

“hey, shiu. when you hear this, give me a call as soon as you can. i am serious. i need another job, as quickly as possible, also.” he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep, angry breaths. “i need to ask a personal favor. investigate something for me, and i want the name and address of every person involved. alright?”

he wonders what will he use when he finds whoever did this. a gun? a knife? it doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore. he steps on the butterfly pendant as he stares at the sky and wishes for blood to pay for yours being spilled.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING <3

[thou-babbling-brook]

Maria Thorpe Character Analysis

Well, I simply can’t disappoint the people – aka, the five of you that will read this, lmfao. I’m so serious about this that I’m actually drafting this on a Google doc before I post this rather than just typing random thoughts on my phone. This is going to be a HUGE ramble that probably won’t make a ton of sense, but I hope it’s entertaining regardless. 

Maria Thorpe – a character that Ubisoft probably spent MAYBE thirty minutes thinking about, but that I have not stopped thinking about for like, five years. What a gal. So glad I was not in this fandom in 2012 to witness how HEINOUS people were about her for simply being a woman “in the way” of a M|M relationship. I hope by the end of this ramble, you, too, will see her for the baddie she truly is. 

In this essay, I will delve into Maria’s character to explore why she is so fascinating to me, the implications of her story, and why Ubisoft can actually catch these hands for dumbing her down in AC Revelations. (I'm putting a cut here because it's so fucking long I'm sorry gang)

First off, to understand Maria Thorpe as a character, you have to understand her background. I’m not going to copy and paste her Wiki or anything, but I am going to outline her life (stated and implied) before we meet her.

For those that don’t know, Maria was born an English noblewoman in 1161 – four years before Altaïr was born (okay cougar). Because she was a tomboy and defied many of the social norms for women in the 12th century, she was ostracized by both her parents and her peers. She mentions in The Secret Crusade that her parents tried to force her to conform, which culminated in her first marriage at the age of 18 to Lord Peter Hallaton. She mentions that he was a decent husband, but he didn’t exactly appreciate her more boisterous nature. After all, in 12th century England (especially among nobility), women were to be seen, not heard. She also failed his expectations as a chatelaine and a wife, as she bore him no children. The Bishop of Leicester granted them an annulment to avoid embarrassment to both Peter and Maria’s family. When she returned, she was “persona non grata” to her family and the whole of Leicestershire, especially when her father had already spent her dowry. With no other options, Maria ran away to join the Third Crusade, where she eventually met Robert de Salbé.

You may notice that we don’t actually know a lot about Maria and her life before AC1, which is probably intentional. To me, though, that’s what makes her backstory fascinating – the implications of her environment and what we can reasonably deduce she went through based on historical context. I think anyone who’s taken a seventh-grade social studies class could tell you women had, like, zero rights in 12th-century England – even more so, noblewomen. Maria was raised to be a glorified broodmare – say nothing, have children (two boys and a girl, as she jokes), and run her husband’s household. Clearly, she was the exact opposite of all of these things. Something interesting about Maria’s first marriage is the fact that while it was an annulment, she specifically mentions in The Secret Crusade it was an annulment to save her family further embarrassment – which implies that the marriage was consummated, but all parties wanted it done with. I don’t think I need to elaborate on how common and horrific an experience like that could be, but I think it fuels Maria’s relationship later on with motherhood, especially since she mentions that she was completely uninterested in childrearing and birth (this is a key point I’ll touch on later).

So what? Why does her background matter? It matters because of how historical and cultural context tie in to help form who she is by the time she leaves for the Third Crusade – a desperate, twenty-two-year-old woman, divorced, ostracized from the only family and society she has ever known, having no other choice than to ditch England and head for the Holy Land unless she wants to become a nun. For many men and women alike in the 12th century, this was their only opportunity to become something more than what they were born as, whether it be a serf, a blacksmith, or a noblewoman. Many who left for the Third Crusade left to “take back the Holy Land,” but also to escape or improve their current standings. To me, Maria falls in the second category, and it is this desperation to escape her life that forms her most notable (and later, tragic) characteristic: her undying loyalty.

As a side note, it is also interesting to me that Maria chose to be a soldier rather than a nurse. This is more so my characterization of her, but I think that’s because a) she’s too damn proud and loud to be a nurse, and b) because if she was a nurse, she would more than likely live and be treated the same way she was at home. Truly, if she wants to escape the patriarchy, the only way a woman like Maria could at the time was to join it by blending in. Girly get some therapy.

We’re now at AC1 in the timeline. Hooray! We don’t know when exactly Maria joined the Templars or when she first met Robert, but we can probably assume it was not long after she joined the crusade. As we know from AC1, AC Bloodlines, and The Secret Crusade, Maria disguised herself as a man (more than likely a young boy since she’s got a voice that would fit right into Alvin and the Chipmunks) and was able to keep up the rouse long enough to rise in the ranks and show promise to people like Robert. For Maria, when Robert finds out she is a woman and yet elevates her further, it is the first time in her life that someone has appreciated her for her masculine qualities. It is why she develops an intense loyalty for Robert to the point of being willing to be his decoy, despite the fact she fully anticipated dying. For Maria, it would be her ideal end – fighting to the death for a cause she truly believed in. Not even really a cause, as we figure out later, but more so for a man she truly believed in – Robert. It would not be through the pain and subjugation of childbirth like most women of her standing, but a brutal fight like any other man.

And yet – she doesn’t. When Altaïr meets her, he’s undergone a whole development arc, whereas Maria (at this point 30, which is SO funny to imagine her fistfighting this 26-year-old frat boy) is at the start of hers. And it starts with Altaïr sparing her – the worst possible fate that could become her at this point in her life. Think about it: the only person who has given her an OUNCE of respect has asked her to essentially die for him by acting as his decoy. As Maria mentions in AC Bloodlines, by this point, she is also a step away from becoming a knight – and at this point, she’s also known as a woman among the Templars. And yet, she believes they have become her family, and she is willing to die for their cause and for Robert. When Altaïr spares her and kills Robert, he’s sentencing her to the life she ran away from and feared – being nothing more than a woman who is looked down upon with condescending snarls and disgust for who she is.

This is why when we meet Maria in AC Bloodlines, she is rightfully PISSED. We literally see her realize that any ounce of respect and power she had is completely gone because Altaïr spared her. She is so pissed, in fact, that she tries to kill Altaïr again. This is even funnier when you remember how much of a BITCH it was to fight her in AC1, but I digress. Altaïr has destroyed everything she has built in her life for the last eight years. He has taken her home, her mentors, her family, and her honor. And bro doesn’t have a clue in the fucking world.

It’s at this point that I’ll also analyze more about Maria’s relationship with the Templars. At first glance, yes, she was a Templar and believed in their cause. Really, though, it goes far deeper than that. It’s not necessarily that Maria believes in their cause – otherwise, it would’ve taken a lot more for Altaïr to sway her to the Assassins – but that she believes in the people. Again, from Maria’s perspective, the Templars (especially Robert) were the ONLY people in her entire life to treat her with dignity, and she is willing to die for them. She is willing to throw her honor to the ground and beg for forgiveness in front of Bouchard because, without the Templars, she is nothing. She is back to square one as a silly little girl trying to run from a life that would only subjugate her. It’s that recurring characteristic of undying loyalty to those who have given her the life she has always wanted.

And for Maria, it is immediately spat back in her face.

When Bouchard takes over in AC Bloodlines, he is a strict Templar Grandmaster. No consorting with women, periodt. And he flaunts this over Maria, taunting her. He is tearing the last ounce of respect she’d ever received and throwing it away. Every sacrifice she made for the Templars for the last eight years meant nothing, and it is crushing to her. She continues to be pissed off at Altaïr, who mentions that she’s more pissed at the Templars than at him. Once again, she is nothing more than a woman – an imprisoned one at that.

This is where one of my favorite Maria scenes (not that there’s many) comes into play. When she and Altaïr are sitting on the ship to Cyprus or wherever it doesn’t matter, Altaïr does something that no person has done for her before: he treats her with unconditional respect. As funny as his autistic ramble about Empedocles and philosophy is, there are so many assumptions that go into Altaïr’s conversation that I think help sway Maria to his side. When he talks to Maria, he speaks to her as an equal. He talks to her about philosophy because of course she would know about philosophy in his mind – to him, she is a soldier and a person first, and a woman second (shut the fuck about The Secret Crusade and him thinking about her as a lioness shut up shut up I low key hate it even though it’s funny). He is the first person in her life to speak to her as an equal and with respect with no strings attached. In fact, when Maria taunts him for leaving her cuffed even as he talks about free will, he lets her go. She may not like him at this point, but after this scene, you can certainly see that she respects him in how she speaks to him. BONUS: she’s not trying to outright kill him anymore! Hooray!

You can see the impact Altaïr and his conversation had on Maria when she confronts Shahar in her courtesan fit. There’s so many layers to Maria willingly dressing in such an exposing, vulnerable, and feminine way (keep in mind this bitch is Catholic, I know her guilt was going crazy), but what I’m going to focus on is her conversation with Shahar. When he speaks to her, he is gross and all but catcalling her, calling her a “little fox” and using a sultry tone. Maria is having NONE of it, and one can only assume this is a tone she has dealt with a thousand times over. This is also where we see the gears turning in Maria’s head. I’ve seen people criticize Maria for how quickly she flip-flopped, but I think that’s overlooking the reason that she WAS a Templar – they were the only people who provided her a home when she had none. If you’re desperate for anyone to treat you with an iota of respect, you’d do whatever they ask. After she talks to Altaïr though, and especially after realizing Robert was simply manipulating her, she is questioning the Templars’ ideologies and realizing this is not what she wants. It low key is like Alicent in House of the Dragons right now – she’s shocked that fighting against women fucked herself over. Maria is similar in that sense – she thought that by being what the Templars wanted and fighting for what they believed, it wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass. But it did. She’s a woman before she’s a Templar, and the ideology of the Templars would see her subjugated just as she was before. It isn’t until after Altaïr’s spiel about free will and the challenges it brings that she realizes she has other options.

And that’s ultimately what brings Maria to the side of the Assassins – realizing her errors in thinking and wanting a way to redeem herself. The Assassins are her second chance, which is ironic given how many stories after hers would follow this same format of second chances. But it isn’t just the ideology change, either. It’s Altaïr. No, she does not have undying loyalty by the end of AC Bloodlines, but he’s certainly earned her trust and respect. He’s treated her like any other person without ever holding power or loyalty over her head. He does not manipulate her or exploit her – he respects her, and he earnestly tells her of the creed’s ideologies not to lure her in, but because he genuinely believes in the idea of dispelling the illusions of the world and wants to share it with her, whether she becomes an Assassin or not. That is what turns Maria into an Assassin at the end of the day: his respect for her and his understanding of the creed. And despite their issues, Maria chooses to follow him to the ends of the earth.

Now we’re at a really funny part of Maria’s story: we know basically NOTHING about what happens in between AC Bloodlines and AC Reflections. We know that sometime after traveling to Masyaf, Maria and Altaïr became a couple. We know they married in 1195 and gave birth to Darim the same year. Two years later, they would traumatize Desmond Miles by fucking on top of a castle, which is so fucking funny and only supports my characterization of Maria as a gremlin, because who the fuck else would make their husband climb up a giant ass tower for sex? We know she officially became an Assassin and would beg Altaïr to stop looking into the Apple. We know she would join Altaïr and Darim to Mongolia to kill Genghis Khan. And that is all we know for an approximately 30-YEAR PERIOD.

While there’s a lot I could talk about in that gap, like Maria’s relationship with other Assassins, I’m going to focus on her relationship with motherhood. As we established earlier, Maria had ZERO interest in being a mother or giving birth. This is a personal headcanon but I do not care because it’s MY analysis and I can do as I please, but I feel like she would’ve dreaded childbirth, especially given how English nobility acted about it (e.g., how people treated it like a scandal or disease) and how it was the leading cause of death for women until the 20th century. Yet, despite this, she had not one, but TWO children. She was like one away from the goal, and even then Sef had two daughters so really she fulfilled it. But why? What changed that she would be willing to do the very thing she left England to avoid?

I think it goes back to the reason she was disinterested in it in the first place. Like Maria says in The Secret Crusade, she didn’t want to just be a mother or a wife. Her ideal husband would treat her like any other man, taking her hunting or whatever else bullshit medieval stuff they’d do instead of scrolling through TikTok. She never said she didn’t want to be a mother. I think her hesitance stems from the fact that she didn’t want to SOLELY be defined as a mother or a wife. With Altaïr, however, that fear is pretty much gone. Since the moment she met him, Altaïr has always treated her with respect and admired the things she was once shamed for. Her strength is valuable as an Assassin. Her bluntness keeps him in check. Her ideas are admired rather than ridiculed. To Altaïr, Maria is not just a woman or even just an Assassin. She’s a person with her own experiences and ideas and fears and strengths and dreams. He loves her for every aspect of herself that was once frowned upon.

I remember a while ago seeing a Tumblr post from ye olden days (like 2012) talking about how because menstrual cycles were extremely irregular back in the day due to medieval diets and exercise, Maria would have to purposefully chill out to regulate her cycle to become pregnant. What that implies is that she trusted Altaïr so much that she was willing to settle down and have children because she knew it would not influence how he treated or loved her. Personally, I think this is true of Darim, but that Sef was an accident because it’s funnier that way, but regardless, the point still stands. Maria getting pregnant and becoming a mother is the opposite of what she thought she would ever want, but because she loved and trusted Altaïr so much, she was willing to have a family with him because she knew it would not come to define her. I think that is unbelievably sweet.

We also don’t really see Maria interact with her children very often, which I think is a fucking shame. When she does interact with Darim (we never see her with Sef, though we do see her reaction to his death), Maria is always supportive and encouraging. Again, this is more my headcanon territory but I really don’t care because I can do what I fucking please, but Maria low key feels like a boy mom to me, but not in the weird Freud way, lmfao. Like we established earlier, Maria’s key trait is her loyalty. I think this loyalty would be extended to her children. We know she’s loyal to Altaïr (it ends up killing her), but I feel like it would go insane with her children. When she learns of Sef’s death in The Secret Crusade, this woman breaks down in tears instantly. WHERE THE FUCK WAS THE MOTHERLY RAGE WITH ABBAS, UBISOFT. WHERE WAS IT. Anyways.

Masyaf is a pretty cutthroat environment to raise a child, especially when you consider that Abbas is apparently lurking in the background scheming during Altaïr’s reign. Something I wish we learned more about (and something I just find fascinating in general) is the political environment of Masyaf. Altaïr implemented a lot of changes to the Brotherhood that faced backlash, one of the key ones being allowing women in the order again (ahem, Maria). I know Maria said she was uninterested in the politics of running a house, but I do think she’d kind of have to play her hand in politics in Masyaf, kind of how Altaïr realizes he’s not exempt from politics since he’s literally shaping them. If Maria wants her kids to be safe, especially as sons of the Master of the Assassins, she’s gotta play her cards well. This is why I think it does make sense for Maria to calm down after having children to be more similar to the Maria we see in AC Reflections and AC Revelations. She can’t just fight everyone like she did when she was relying solely on herself. Now, she has people relying on her, and I think it makes sense for her character to chill out more (though without losing her spunk) to ensure her family is safe.

For those that have ever watched Magnificent Century, basically think about how Hurrem went from fighting everyone to playing her cards wisely so her kids wouldn’t die or do stupid shit. That’s how I feel like Maria would be.

Something else that’s interesting about Maria to me is her relationship with Altaïr. Duh, you’re probably saying, but hear me out. We know that while she and Altaïr were inseparable during their marriage, there was one thing that strained it: the Apple. It makes sense why Maria would be so pissed off at it. She’s seen Altaïr control men’s minds with it. She’s seen how it takes him away for days at a time with its secrets, to the point she is begging him to throw it away. Back to the point about loyalty to her family, whereas Altaïr seeks knowledge, Maria just wants her family protected and safe because she loves them – including her dumbass husband. It’s ironic that the very thing she fought about with Altaïr is the thing that killed her.

So we’re finally at AC Revelations, and I am truly shocked that you’re still here. Kudos to you. At that final confrontation scene with Abbas, that loyalty for those she loves comes to a head. When Altaïr whips out the Apple, Maria begs and pleads him to stop, because she knows if he uses the Apple to control someone, he will only be proving Abbas’s point, which will only fuck them over. In The Secret Crusade, we also have Malik’s head on top of this scene to make it worse. Maria’s position is again one of desperation. Her son is dead, one of her best friends is now just a head, and her husband is about to go sicko mode. She is screwed and she knows it. What she doesn’t know is that she’s about to be stabbed by Swami (I’m going with the revelations version shut up) in a last ditch effort to stop Altaïr from using the Apple. Altaïr doesn’t listen to Maria, and it kills her. He kills her.

… SO I HAVE THOUGHTS.

I think Maria dying from the Apple makes sense, I do. That’s not my problem. My problem is how AC Revelations basically dumbed her down to this motherly, homely figure which is the like, ANTITHESIS of what Maria is. Where was the feminine rage??? You’re telling me this woman would not be about to SLAUGHTER someone after learning that Sef died?? You’re telling me she would just pull an AltaïR thiS iSn’T yOu???????? Are you so fucking for real right now??? It pisses me off because it nukes her character. While yes, it makes sense for her to be a much calmer woman and 67 compared to 30, this is still Maria. Don’t act like she and Altaïr don’t have fucking anger issues and be so fucking for real.

Here’s my ideal scenario for what should’ve gone down. I think once they pulled Malik’s head out, there should’ve been all-out chaos rather than this bullshit “We killed everyone loyal to Altaïr before he arrived.” Maria should’ve been right there with them with a sword out. Altaïr, in a desperate attempt to calm everyone down, would take out the Apple and try to control everyone. If you’ve seen the long ass discussion about how Revelations fucked up Altaïr’s character arc, this also helps remedy that because Altaïr is pulling out because of his arrogance in believing he can control the Apple. News flash: he can’t. Maria, while fighting for Altaïr, would somehow be killed either by the Apple or like similar to how Swami accidentally killed her. Something along those lines where it is Altaïr’s fault. That’s how she should’ve gone out, not some weird pick me bullshit.

Anyways. RIP Maria Thorpe you would’ve loved Crusader Kings 3.

I definitely missed some points about her character but this is already 7 pages long on Google docs so I am NOT writing anymore. God bless.

TLDR she's a baddie and I need her so so so bad

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Bridgerton Season 3 ep 1-4 Thoughts.

Just binged watched bridergerton season 3 part 1 for the second time and figured I'd share some thoughts. I haven't read the books so I am going into this season blind and so far the first 4 eps have not disappointed. Oh and spoilers obviously.

I love that this season started the exact same way as the other two, with the bridgerton family getting ready for one of the girls presentation to society. This time it's francesca. I also love that this is the third time they've done this but they are still a chaotic mess.

I love penelope's new look, every one of her dresses were stunning and I think the greens and blues were really good colours for her.

The new dynamic between eloise and penelope is interesting. There is clearly still a lot of hurt there, but eloise also still cares about penelope and doesn't like to see her hurt. Honestly most of their scenes made me feel really sad for them both, they clearly miss the friendship they had and each other but don't know how to repair things between them.

Seeing a different side to Cressida through her new friendship with eloise is interesting. There were moments where I sympathised with her, but also, she hasn't completely reformed and there were still moments when her meaner side came out. But it was still interesting to see where her behaviour comes from.

That being said I am glad that cressida called eloise out after it came out that Colin was helping penelope find a husband and eloise blamed her. Basically telling her to look in the mirror. As much as I do love eloise I also think she can act recklessly and speak without thinking and that has gotten her and others in trouble over the seasons.

It was also good to see more of and get to know francesca as a character. I really liked the conversation she had with penelope about how when you get stuck on the wall it's hard to get off it again. I think both penelope and francesca have trouble talking with others. They also are both desperate to marry so that they can leave the family home. For francesca it's because she struggles with the noise and bustle of a large household when she prefers solitude and quiet. For penelope it's to get away from her overbearing mother and sisters.

Penelope's attempts to flirt made for some comical moments but was also really relatable. That awkward fumbling over her words and just generally looking uncomfortable was spot on.

Speaking of comical moments, that whole plot of lady featherington trying to get her girls to produce an heir was hilarious. But also kind of shows how the ladies' mamas really need to start having proper conversations about the birds and bees before their daughters become wives if they want heirs.

Some really great moments throughout the season were the scenes that reminded us of how penelope and Colin were friends for years, those little moments when they are laughing and joking together. I also love that we learned how they met, their meet cute really was cute.

I really loved polin's first kiss. I think penelope's reasoning for wanting Colin to kiss her was relatable, she was in her third year on the marriage mart with no prospects and feels like she will never marry and never know what it's like to be kissed. So she asks her friend so that she can at least know what it feels like. Colin might be someone she has crushed on and been in love with for years but him also being her friend means she trusts him and feels safe with him. What I also love about this kiss is that they could have left it at that first chaste meeting of their lips. But their eyes lock and then they go back in for a more passionate kiss as the music soars and it goes from a friend giving another friend a kiss to help them out to a real, earth moving, world shattering kiss that leaves them both reeling and breathless.

Another thing I really enjoyed is that it is Colin who after that kiss is the one having dreams and fantasies about penelope and has jealous feelings. We've seen how penelope has longed for and been in love with Colin over the last two seasons so it was a nice change to see Colin showing those feelings and trying to come to terms with his feelings.

Lord debling is nice enough and seems like a decent guy but I agree with Colin, I don't think he is right for penelope. I don't think penelope would be happy being left alone for years at a time. I do think she wants the companionship of a husband and I think it is telling that her happy, safe place was the bridgerton drawing room, being amongst the bridgerton bustle. Cressida could be a good match for debling potentially. He can travel and be happy exploring nature and I think cressida from her comments in ep 1 about loving London would be happy staying in society and entertaining. It could be an arrangement they are both content in.

The marquess that the Queen introduces to francesca is another gentleman who I think is OK, seems nice enough but again I don't think he is right for francesca, he wants a big family with lots of noise and that is not what she wants.

However I adore the relationship between francesca and John sterling. I just love how they didn't need any long flowery conversation in order to feel a connection to each other. In fact it was their mutual love of peace and quiet that bonded them. He is someone she could enjoy quiet evenings with, someone whose company she could enjoy but without the pressure of forced socialisation and conversation. I can see them spending their evenings in a drawing room with her playing the piano and him enjoying her music. Simple but contented. Out of the two, him and the marquess, I hope she chooses Sterling.

With that being said I am starting to feel sorry for the queen. Each season she tries to set a bridgerton up with someone and every season they choose someone else least minute instead, daphne turned down the Prince for Simon, Anthony ended up not with Edwina but her sister instead and I suspect it's going to go the same way with francesca where she will be courted by the queen's pick but will ultimately choose John sterling. Honestly at this point Charlotte just give up, stay far from the bridgertons and enjoy the drama from a safe distance.

Let's talk about violet bridgerton. It seems she herself may have a romance this season in lady Danbury's brother, spoilers for queen Charlotte, but I do find it kind of funny that Danbury had an affair with violet's father and now violet might be getting with Danbury's brother.

Keeping on the subject of violet I love how well she knows her children. She always sees right through them. She could tell right away that francesca was smitten with Stirling even if she is a little confused about how they don't really talk much to each other. Also one conversation and she figured out that Colin has fallen in love with penelope. I also love that moment when Colin says he isn't coming to the ball and violet not so subtly tells him that penelope may be getting engaged that evening and what a shame it would be for him to miss it. She knew exactly what to say to get him to that ball and confessing his feelings to penelope before it's too late. Love you violet you are a legend.

Lady featherington is an interesting character because I do believe she genuinely loves her girls and wants what's best for them. But her idea of what is best for them is too make sure they marry and they are financially secure. I also think she wraps her own fate up in her girls fortunes too she knows her own security relies on them having a male heir. Unfortunately despite her love for her daughters she often says things very hurtful to her girls in particular penelope, which doesn't make her a very likable character. That conversation between her and penelope in ep 4 right as penelope is leaving the ball after debling's rejection is an interesting moment. Lady featherington's first reaction is to blame penelope for debling leaving, penelope rightly calls her out asking if she only has value if she has a lord's engagement ring. What's interesting is that this statement clearly hit Lady featherington hard, you can see that she feels guilty, I think this is further punched home when prudence comes running up to her telling her she's pregnant and asking if she is excited. I think it's a moment where she realises how many expectations she has put on her daughters and how that has made them believe that her love for them is conditional on them meeting these expectations. I am interested to see if this realisation changed her behaviour towards her daughters going forward.

That carriage scene, ice someone get me ice. Honestly the chemistry between them was perfect, sizzling in fact. Also of course they ended it with Colin proposing. I am really excited to see where its going to go next especially as Colin still has to learn that penelope is whistledown. I feel like a whole lot of drama is coming our way.

[nicollekidman]

Waitttt please talk more about tashiart bc i see most ppl slander Art specifically even zendaya (which surprised me) but to me it was always art for tashi even when they first meet its clear she prefers art and wants his number, she wants art to win so badly because she wants their family but also because she wants to respect him

yeah i absolutely agree i think with the standard caveats that they all need each other in different ways and the beauty of the movie is it's up for interpretation etc etc etc

art and tashi have a different dynamic from the drop than tashi and patrick. patrick has the swagger and the bluster and he pushes at tashi like he pushes at art, but the way art chooses his words is much more careful (you screamed) and i think immediately pings to her that he has what she needs (discipline, awareness, insightfulness) in a very particular way that patrick doesn't. also i think it shouldn't be overlooked that she clocks in the hotel room that patrick is hung up on art even though art is focused on her, so i think her awareness of patrick's emotional unavailability (as it were) colors her choices going forward. like... knowing that art is tuned into her and is malleable and willing, while patrick might have the fire but he's already not aligned with her (their) priorities and the Thing that separates them is confidence, not necessarily skill..... "you can beat him. you should beat him" is her choice and its also a test.

and like. he fails it in that moment because it's a test patrick is also participating in!! but patrick and tashi don't have enough between them to sustain them, they're all bark and no real bite because he's not serious or disciplined enough to be a viable partner for her, even before she needs a surrogate. they clearly have a lot of spark but you can't sustain that. she likes when patrick pushes her but she doesn't respect him.

fast forward to 13 years of marriage.......... i get that people have the impulse to say that tashi only loves tennis or tashi can't love art because he's a lapdog or they want her to be a girlboss or whatever but like. those two deeply want/need each other it's just much more difficult for her to communicate that kind of connection than it is with patrick because patrick is simpler. he doesn't demand anything form her really, besides her anger and her body (occasionally), and both of them still exist as teenagers with endless potential in his mind, which is safe. but art is demanding everything from her, even as he's reciprocating by giving her literally every piece of himself, the way he nursed her through her injuries and she his means that like. she can't hide anywhere. so like they're not verbalizing things the same way patrick does, but the devotion is there. she never ever stops telling art he can beat patrick, and when she's not sure, she begs patrick to lose so that there's never any danger of her having to make that choice.

and like. i think art and tashi could be happy without tennis, but i think the point is that she doesn't know because they've never had to try, and even the possibility that she'd lose it all if art doesn't have it in him is enough to make her humble herself in front of patrick. which she has no reason to do unless she wants to keep him. like. they've built an entire life together, she's built art into who he is but that's a two-way process. and they end up inviting patrick back into the fold which enriches their lives and gives them the boost they need but ultimately it's still them inviting patrick into the life they've built together. i don't think it's a happy ending or really a story at all unless you think tashi loves art desperately.

[prettygirlstothefloor]

a messy review of TTPD

okay i need to preface this that i have the credentials to be able to speak my mind on her. i've been a fan since 2006. i've been a fan since i was 11 so don't get your panties in a bunch.

i think this album is messy. the production is the only thing i can really praise about it. the lead up to it and now the full release has just been so unbelievably messy. i'm going to make a continue reading for the people who still have yet to listen where i won't spoil it for you. PS. i do get mean in this. so if you're not wanting to hear critiques and criticism and taking that in, please scroll.

EDIT: this was pre-anthology release. so this is just based on the original 16 song release.

SPOILERS AHEAD

i am fully aware she is allowed to go through the grieving process of her breakup with joe. i respect that whole heartedly. i completely understand having someone in your life for such a big chunk and for them to be gone and feeling lost and alone and angry. what i don't like at all is essentially telling us in this album that she couldn't handle joe having severe depression. obviously i don't know everything that went down but it seems as though he didn't want to get married until he felt mentally better. and as someone who is also in the same boat as him, i also wouldn't want to fully commit to marriage until i felt like i could give them 100%. and if that's his biggest crime, being too depressed, then that's a her problem. being depressed is not all "haha relatable".

now onto... that man... i did not expect 90% of this album to be about him. i've only hated two people in my life. one being a family member of mine. the other, him (i will not be saying his name because he does not deserve it). the way she spent so much of this album talking about how she will defend him with her life. girl i am begging you to get up off the ground. it felt like a backstab from her in "but daddy, i love him" where she's basically saying fuck everyone for ruining a relationship i wanted. the reason no one wanted her with him is because he's a racist, misogynistic, homophobic asshole. i am aware he supports queer rights but it seems like he only cares about queer rights and the safety of queer people when it involves white queer people (ie. what happened in dubai and malaysia). i'm almost confident she cheated on joe with him while her and joe were still together. i'm sorry to taylor that i care about BIPOC and queer people's rights than making a racist white man happy.

joe truly got the short end of the stick here. he has been treated so horribly this past year by swifties who made up rumors about him just to make taylor seem like the good guy and the only thing this album told me was she was the villain in all of this. i hope joe has a good support system around him and i hope he's able to get any mental health help he needs. i do also think that taylor desperately needs a therapist as well. she is very adament about not having one and just using her mom and her friends but she needs an outside source to really listen and give her advice that isn't "yes man"-ing her all day long.

anyways, like i said at the beginning of this post, i enjoyed the production. my favorite songs were fortnight and who's afraid of little old me. it's gonna take time for me to enjoy this album outside of its messiness. i did enjoy midnights btw. so it's definitely not the sound i don't like it's just everything surrounding it.

70/100

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

I suspect that Ryu's distance from his mother and school has less to do with homophobia and more to do with remarriage. We already know his dad is gone, seemingly dead, since Ryu speaks to him while looking at the sky. We also know his mom is still around and still trying to smooth things over with the school by donating money. But we see Ryu living on his own, playing street basketball to earn money, and having forged an odd sort of toxic found family with Q. So where's his mom?

This seems to be a running theme in Khun Golf's works -- kids feeling abandoned because of remarriage. (It just showed up a week or so ago in Wandee Goodday.) There may be a thread of homophobia mixed in, as we have also seen that as a theme in The Eclipse. But I think it's far more likely that Ryu started getting into trouble when his mom started dating and remarried. He either removed himself from the home and fell in with Q and his street basketball lot when he was in desperate need of cash, or he was actually forced out of the home by his stepdad. Both scenarios could explain why he's got that nice dorm room and why his mom still donates to the school. She's still supporting him as much as she can financially, but he is either choosing to live separately from her or has to live separately from her as a condition of her remarriage. (This is actually somewhat common among certain classes if a wife enters marriage with a well-off husband of a certain social status. Her children from a previous marriage get hidden. Taken care of financially, but hidden away from the family home.) Both scenarios can also explain why doesn't seem to be concerned about the financial loss he'll experience if he gives up street basketball and returns to school. He's already got his needs met from his mother paying for him, even if he's determined to not depend fully on her assistance.

The kdrama enthusiast in me that sees a vast web of interconnectedness and hidden family relationships behind every corner is even going one step further, starting to suspect that Atom may be Ryu's stepbrother. Atom would still be welcome in his father's home, but would be uncomfortable around his new stepmother so would want spend as much time away from them as reasonable.

Anywho, I thought I'd put this out there since I only just finished episode 3 today. Because as much as I'd love a Thai BL to deal with the issue of a parent kicking out a teenage kid for being gay, I've never actually seen that happen. But I have seen the kid struggling through the remarriage of their surviving parent trope quite a lot.

[jinjinxedsoul]

When The Sun Loved The Moon - Aegon II Targaryen

CHAPTER 6. UNSPOKEN FEARS

warnings: smut, slight breeding kink, hand job,infidelity (? (Jaella and Harland but mentions of Aegon being with someone else, but they're both fine with it idk middle ages were wild), last scene is not main characters centered but I loved it so I kept it.

A/N: I didn't intend on leaving the smut scene but my bestie insisted so I did. Again, my smut may suck but hey practice makes perfect. Also, yes, I changed the title. Anyways, thank you for reading this I really appreciate it 💕

131 AC

At sixteen, she had yet to find a worthy suitor; in reality, there had been many, but she always found some scandalous flaw that led her to decline their marriage proposals. Rhaenyra didn’t seem too pleased with this, but she remained silent when Daemon reminded her that she had been the same in her youth. The prince was also not very happy with the young and not-so-young men who presented themselves seeking Jaella's hand.

Desperate to find her a good husband, it was decided to organize a grand event to receive the suitors, where they would be evaluated by the princess and the prince to consider the best of their options. Although, without a doubt, Jaella already had her proposal of marriage and made sure that invitations were sent to Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond since both were still single and worthy candidates for her hand. Of course, the princess's interest was solely focused on the elder of the two brothers.

“It seems foolish to me,” the princess commented while her hair was being brushed.

Harland, who had been tasked with bringing news about the event, let out a small laugh.

“I don’t think your mother and Prince Daemon think the same,” he said, shrugging. “It’s an event in your honor; you should be excited. You like these kinds of things.”

“It’s an event to have me chosen as if I were cattle,” she corrected, frowning. Then she waved her hand to signal her maid of honor that she could leave, which the girl did immediately. Once they were alone, Jaella continued speaking. “I don’t need to be chosen. I know what I want.”

“And what is it that you want, princess?” Harland asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at her through the mirror.

Jaella kept her gaze fixed on the mirror, observing her own reflection for a moment before responding.

“Aegon,” she said finally, with a certainty that left no room for doubt.

Harland approached her carefully and took the brush that Jaella’s maid had left, replacing her in the task.

“A knight brushing the princess’s hair?” Jaella asked, allowing him to do it, enjoying the difference that Harland’s less skilled hands made compared to the previous ones.

“Aegon wants you too,” he said, completely ignoring her question. “But until the king and queen accept the marriage proposal, I’m afraid there’s little you can do about it.”

She hummed in agreement, nodding slightly at the boy’s words behind her.

“There has never been a formal proposal,” Harland frowned, looking at her with confusion. “Apparently, my wishes are not that important, and my family has never dared to formally ask for my marriage to Aegon.”

“And... I suppose the princess has a solution for that.”

Jaella smiled widely.

“My mother and Daemon are reluctant to marry me off to him. Perhaps it’s because they don’t trust Aegon as much as I do.”

“Which is quite reasonable,” Harland said, annoyed, earning a light smack from the princess.

“I’m sure Aegon has told his mother more than once that he wants to marry me, but she will never accept it. So, it’s up to me to handle the matter myself.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” he asked, his curiosity palpable.

Jaella turned slightly in the chair to look directly at him, her expression now filled with determination that made Harland’s chest swell with pride.

“I’m going to make my own proposal,” she said firmly. “I won’t wait for others to decide for me. Aegon and I know what we want, and if my mother and Daemon aren’t willing to make it happen, then I will do it myself. I’ll speak with Aegon, and we’ll find a way to present our request in a way that they can’t refuse.”

The young Arryn sighed and nodded gently with a smile, daring to give the princess’s hair a soft stroke, earning a bright smile in return.

“Rest assured, I’ll support you in whatever you need.”

“Perhaps you’ll need to chop off Ser Criston’s head,” she joked, wrinkling her nose.

“Nothing would make me happier,” the slight tension in the room dissipated with the joke. “Is there anything the princess wishes to do today to avoid the fateful destiny of getting involved in the preparations for her engagement celebration?”

“There actually is...” A couple of knocks on the door interrupted her, but instead of bothering her, they made her smile. “Come in.”

“Princess, the ship that will take you to Kingswood is ready.” Decran Stark had entered the room respectfully but relaxed when he saw Harland was there. “Will Lord Arryn be joining us?”

“Of course,” said the silver-haired princess. “When have you ever seen him away from me?”

Harland gave Decran a teasing smile, which the young Stark chose to ignore. During their time at Dragonstone, both young men had developed a closeness with the princess, as one would expect. However, it was clear that there was a noticeable difference in how Jaella treated each of them.

They were frequently seen together in the Conqueror’s Garden or, when the weather was warmer, playing by the sea. They also shared some history lessons and often sat down to read after dinner. It was no secret that the princess enjoyed the company of the two young men more than that of her ladies-in-waiting.

“I suppose he’s never far enough away.”

“I’ll soon be sworn to the princess; it’s what’s expected of me.”

“Well, I could be the one to marry her,” Decran said, smiling smugly at the princess.

Harland let out a chuckle, and Jaella’s cheeks flushed pink. She was accustomed to the meaningless bickering between the two, but she still hadn’t managed to let Decran’s bold remarks affect her. It wasn’t that she was so enamored with him that she considered him a marriage option, but she did like him and was aware that the northern lad had become much more attractive with age.

“If you don’t stop talking about my future marriage, I’ll leave you here, take the boat, and go away for two moons without anyone knowing where I am.”

“Please don’t,” Harland pleaded, visibly distressed. “I like my head where it is.”

“Then let’s go.”

═════𖠁 ═════

The purpose of the trip to Kingswood was to enjoy a day of hunting, but it was well-known that the princess was not very skilled in this discipline, so it meant that she would spend the day playing with Moonfyre while Decran and Harland hunted.

“When do you want to return?” asked Decran, sitting next to her and earning a hiss from the little dragon playing in Jaella’s lap.

The silver-haired princess quickly tried to calm her down.

“Tomorrow. I don’t plan to stay any longer than necessary. I just want to relax before facing the storm,” she replied, shrugging and suddenly turning to confront the northerner. “Do you want to ask me something, Decran?”

“Nothing too serious, princess,” he reassured her with a smile. “My brother, from what I know, is in the capital. I would like to pay him a visit, if it pleases you.”

“I have no objection,” she answered with a reassuring smile. “You’ve already done enough by hunting dinner for us. I’m sure Harland will take good care of me, and there are some guards watching the surroundings. I’ll be fine.”

Decran left the small camp as the sun began to set, and Harland was grateful for it. He really couldn’t tolerate much of the attention the northerner lavished on the princess, finding it desperate, though it was clear that jealousy was fueling his growing disdain for the young man.

It was no secret that the princess favored the young Arryn over the Stark, though many attributed it to the fact that Jaella was closer in age to Harland. The reality was that there was another reason behind the young princess's favoritism.

Since her last visit to King’s Landing, when she had shared the bed with Aegon for four uninterrupted nights, her desire for pleasure had nothing but increased. It had been barely two moons since their return when she found herself fervently needing the prince’s attention again, who was too far away to meet her needs whenever she wished.

Perhaps it was the lack of affection from her uncle that had led her to share the bed with Harland for the first time, but it was not the reason she allowed him to continue visiting her on some nights.

She knew that Aegon was aware of this, but it did not seem to bother the prince that his beloved niece sought to satisfy her desires, even if it was not with him. Aegon appeared to take pleasure in knowing that Jaella was desired by others, that she had the power to attract anyone to her bed. It was as if, in his mind, his sense of possession over her was reinforced by seeing her desired by another, a reminder that, at the end of the day, it was him that Jaella always returned to.

Moreover, over time, Aegon had come to understand the young Arryn, even daring to call him his friend when referring to him. He liked Harland because he did not seek to overshadow him or steal the princess's affections, which were so precious to him. The falcon knew his place and understood that he could never compete with the dragon.

Harland, for his part, knew that his place beside the princess faded with the appearance of the sun in the sky, but this did not trouble him. He loved Jaella and knew that she loved him in her own way, which was enough for him. While he could not have her completely, it was far more than many men could ask for.

“Did you bring the cages?” Jaella asked.

Her face was dimly lit by the torchlight, but Harland could clearly see the smile that spread across her face. The young man nodded and handed over the cages carefully while she tried to catch the small, glowing insects flying around the bushes.

“What do you need these for?” Harland asked, looking at her with curiosity.

“They’re for Princess Helaena,” she replied with a shrug. “The climate on Dragonstone doesn’t support many of these beautiful insects. Jacaerys said that a couple of days ago, two of her fireflies died, so he asked me to bring some.”

Once they had the insects secured, they returned to the makeshift camp they hadn’t strayed far from. They had a bit of bread and warm wine for dinner before going to sleep, making sure to settle Moonfyre in the special cage they had brought for her to sleep in at night.

It wasn’t long before Princess Jaella called Harland urgently. Unable to sleep, the young Arryn assumed she would need his attention, and he wasn’t wrong; the young Velaryon had asked him to kiss her.

The young falcon was quick to obey his princess's wishes and had ended up in her tent that night, ready to do whatever she asked of him.

"No," she had whispered when his hand tried to slip under her dress.

Harland obeyed immediately and a smile took hold of Jaella's lips; in private, the young Arryn was much more submissive than Aegon and although she liked her uncle's possessive attitude, she truly enjoyed the stillness that Harland offered, his willingness to let himself be guided by her desires without insistence or demands.

Jaella was lying on her back between the soft sheets and furs, her legs around the boy's waist and her arms clinging to his neck as he moved on top of her, seeking to relieve the tension in his crotch.

The Velaryon ran one of her hands through Harland's soft brown hair and then caressed his cheek, drawing him towards her to kiss him. A new thrust made her sigh and laugh, taking the opportunity to gently bite the boy's lower lip.

"Calm down" she warned him jokingly "Tell me what you want."

"I need you"he murmured "I want to be inside you"

"You won't" she sentenced, making a pitiful moan leave Harland's lips "But I want to give you pleasure"

Jaella's hand ventured between their bodies, until it reached the brown-haired man's crotch, getting lost under his clothes. Harland trembled pleasantly and the silver-haired girl smiled with satisfaction as she saw the younger man's grimace transform into one of pure pleasure.

The princess gave a light squeeze around his erection, drawing out a small moan that made her own body shudder; her hand began to move up and down his length.

"Princess" he whimpered with his eyes closed.

"That's all you'll get tonight, Harland" she warned him, continuing with the same tortuous rhythm. "Imagine you're inside me if you want it so much."

Harland's hips moved involuntarily, thrusting against Jaella's hand, making the princess's smile widen.

“Again”  she said, stopping her movements.

He moved again in an attempt to keep up, his moans becoming more intense as he tried to adjust to the same rhythm as the girl beneath him, his lips parted and she rushed to kiss him almost desperately.

“Keep going”  she ordered him mid-kiss, pulling his lip a little harder.

The younger boy's labored breathing prevented him from speaking, but he did his best to make himself understood.

“I can't hold on any longer”  he gasped, hiding his face in the curve of the princess's neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses to her lips. “ I need... ”

“ You won't have any more”  she reminded him, giving him a light squeeze. “It's not my wish to torture you either, but you won't enter me tonight. ”

His erratic and desperate movements continued for a few more seconds, until Jaella dared to pull his hair with a little more force than necessary, then she approached his ear and shamelessly began to moan, causing him to resume his movements in an attempt to coordinate them with the sweet sounds the princess was uttering.

“I want you to fill me with your seed” she moaned, leaving a languid kiss on his cheek. “Don't you want that?”

“Y-yes” his movements became faster and his brow furrowed for a moment.

Harland's lips parted and formed a perfect circle, a broken moan escaped from his mouth and Jaella felt his warmth empty into her hand. She smiled satisfied and he let his head fall on the princess's chest, with her free hand, she caressed his hair slowly while leaving languid kisses on his temple.

It was rare the time that the princess allowed him to take her; that did not matter to Harland, what he truly treasured were those moments when he could rest at her side while she caressed and kissed him.

“The prince will be upset. So close to King’s Landing... you could have called for him,” he murmured against the skin of her neck, adjusting himself more comfortably with her.

“The prince is already a bit upset,” she said simply. “He’s not too happy about the idea of the event to find me a husband. If I called for him now, he might want to take me away, you know how he is.”

“Impulsive,” Harland muttered. “But I don’t blame him; I’d be the same if I knew they were trying to betroth you to someone else. He’s the most viable option. Doesn’t Viserys see that?”

“The king knows, my mother knows... But I haven’t been able to understand what scares them so much,” she said, gently withdrawing her hand from Harland’s virility.

The brown-haired man hurried to fetch a cotton cloth, then dampened it in the water container within the tent and began to clean the princess's hand with utmost delicacy while she watched him.

“When your mother ascends to the throne, what will happen to her brothers? Don’t you think the queen fears that your mother might remove any obstacle to her claim? She already has Helaena secured; Alicent won't risk losing her eldest son,” Harland said.

“When my mother has a crown, Aegon will have one too,” she replied, looking at him seriously. “I know, I’ve seen it. My mother won’t do anything that could harm her own blood. Helaena is married to my brother and will soon bear him heirs. Aegon…”

“Aegon will fight for you, married or not,” Harland interrupted, finishing the cleaning. “Even a blind person could see that.”

Jaella looked at him. She wished she could be as sure of that, but she knew well the strength of the Hightower poison; she was aware of Otto’s tricks and the queen’s manipulations. She didn’t know how far Aegon had been corrupted by his mother and grandfather.

“And the other two?” Harland questioned, making Jaella look at him with curiosity. “Aemond is very close to his mother, and Daeron… we know nothing about him.”

“There shouldn’t be any problem. They know that my mother is the heir to the Iron Throne. She will have the crown, and no blood will need to be shed for it.”

“If you’ve seen it, then I believe you,” Harland reassured her, brushing his hand through her silver strands of hair. She was about to say more, but he interrupted her. “And we’ll do everything we can to ensure that your marriage proposal to Aegon is finally considered.”

The young princess smiled, satisfied. She liked having someone on her side.

═════𖠁 ═════

The hot water relaxed her aching body. That morning, she had decided to train as well and had pushed herself harder than usual. Her effort paid off, as she managed to defeat Jacaerys in two of their many sparring matches, a feat that Sir Erryk praised enthusiastically. She still hadn’t managed to beat Harland, but she knew it would take many more moons of extensive training.

She could feel the stiffness in her joints and saw some purplish and greenish bruises along her arms as the maidservants scrubbed her body. She grimaced in displeasure, knowing she wouldn't be able to wear the sleeveless dresses that Aegon liked.

“Princess, you need to come out now. The guests will start arriving soon, and your mother expects you to be ready to receive them.”

She really didn’t want to go. The only thing motivating her was the chance that Aegon would be there, and this time she wouldn’t accept a refusal. It was probably her last chance to make a move, so she had to seize it.

“Prince Daemon said that if you didn’t come down soon, he’d come get you himself.”

Jaella rolled her eyes in amusement and nodded slowly, submerging herself in the water one last time before abandoning it for the rest of the day and facing her duties.

“Prince Daemon is aware that bursting into the chambers of an improperly dressed princess could cost him his head. He wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Don’t test me,” she heard the mocking voice of her stepfather from the other side of the door.

“Get out of here!” she exclaimed.

She heard him laugh, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. With a heavy sigh, she shook her head and had no choice but to get out of the water. The maidservants dried her off and applied ointments to the areas most affected by bruises, grateful that the prince’s brother always avoided hitting her face. They then scented her with aromatic oils from Lys, a gift from Daemon on her name day.

That day, Jaella had chosen a beautiful blue dress with white sleeves adorned with small pearls at the cuffs. A lovely golden embroidery extended from the bust to the waist, interspersed with pearls of various sizes.

Her hair was half-up in intricate braids decorating the back of her head, while the rest fell freely down her back, almost touching her waist.

She looked beautiful. More beautiful than on any other day, and she knew exactly why, but decided not to dwell on it and instead focus on her plan.

When she was fully ready, she finally left her room and found Harland waiting for her right outside the door. The young Arryn gave a small bow of his head as a greeting, and she flashed him a brief smile, nervously playing with her fingers.

“You look especially radiant today, Princess.”

“Thank you,” she smiled again, this time with a broader and more lasting grin. “Your mother asked me to escort you to the hall. She threatened to cut off my finger if you tried to sneak away, so please, behave.”

“Don’t worry, your fingers will be safe. I’m not planning to run today,” she said with a tone of boredom, prompting Harland to roll his eyes. “The sooner we start this, the sooner we’ll be done.”

And although Jaella wanted to believe that would be the case, the reality was that it took her over half a day to attend to the suitors who had arrived that morning, and none of them had met with her approval, let alone her mother’s. Not to mention Daemon, who had laughed in the faces of two or three elderly men who had dared to ask for Jaella’s hand.

“Can we leave? I’m hungry,” Jaella complained, glancing at her mother. Before the princess could respond, the doors of the hall opened once more, causing Jaella to roll her eyes in exhaustion.

“Princes Aegon and Aemond Targaryen,” was announced, and the mere mention of their names made Jaella’s face light up. “And Their Majesties, King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower.”

The deterioration in her grandfather’s health was evident. The man could barely walk on his own, his skin looked even more pallid than the last time she had seen him, his hair had become much thinner, and the skin on his face appeared quite damaged. However, Viserys wore a radiant smile that only grew wider when his eyes landed on his eldest daughter.

Jaella felt a lump in her throat. Seeing her grandfather in such a state reminded her of how fragile time was, and instead of diminishing her desire to make a proposal, it only fueled her determination. She knew that if she married Aegon before her grandfather passed away, her mother would have a better chance of ascending the throne without any objections from the queen.

Rhaenyra almost ran to her father with a beaming smile, like a child returning home after a long time. Daemon followed closely and also greeted his brother warmly.

Aemond approached Jaella first, giving her a smile before taking her hand and kissing it as a greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Uncle,” she said with a broad smile.

“Likewise,” he replied.

Aegon skipped the formalities as usual and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Jaella’s cheek, gently holding her face with one of his hands and also caressing the opposite cheek. Alicent made a face of disapproval but remained silent, as usual, seeming to be the only one displeased with the situation.

“I didn’t expect Your Majesties to accept the invitation to my daughter’s suitor search,” Rhaenyra said, drawing attention to herself.

“We didn’t come to present a proposal, Princess,” Alicent immediately replied, and Jaella had to restrain herself from lashing out. “But your father was very insistent on meeting the candidates.”

“The candidates who presented themselves today were not what we had hoped for,” Rhaenyra said, not looking at Alicent but directing her words to her father. “But I am confident that Princess Jaella will find a suitor to her liking.”

“It is an important event, without a doubt,” Viserys commented finally, his voice faltering. “Princess Jaella has much ahead of her. I’m sure she will find… what she is looking for.”

"And we’re here now," Aegon interrupted, earning a disapproving look from his mother. "Who better than the king to oversee my dear niece’s betrothal, wouldn’t you agree?"

Daemon let out a laugh that only further irritated the queen. Rhaenyra shot him a warning glance, while Viserys smiled and nodded towards his son, approving of his words.

"We were about to serve the meal; the journey must have been tiring," Rhaenyra said, trying to ease the tension while signaling the servants to prepare.

Alicent, still frowning, adjusted the folds of her dress, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere Aegon had created. "We appreciate your hospitality, Princess," she replied formally, her tone distant.

As everyone headed towards the dining hall, Aegon and Jaella lagged a few steps behind. The prince clasped his hands behind his back and walked alongside his niece with a smile.

"I didn’t think you would come," Jaella said.

"We weren’t going to," Aegon replied. "Aemond and I had to work on Dad’s head to get him to take action and let us come."

The princess let out a giggle and shook her head. "How charming," she said, still laughing.

"Well, I had to prevent you from being married off to the first lord who walked through the doors," he shrugged.

"I avoided being married off to the first lord who crossed the threshold," she grimaced. "It was dreadful, to say the least."

Aegon focused ahead and, seeing his family disappear down the hallway leading to the dining room, he stopped. He wrapped his arm around Jaella’s and pulled her close until she bumped into his chest. His hold softened once he had her in his arms; one hand rested on her waist while the other cradled her face, bringing it closer to his for a quick kiss on her cheek.

"I’m not going to let you marry anyone else, alright?" he whispered near her lips. "I’m going to—"

"I’ll make a marriage proposal to the king," she interrupted. He looked at her, confused.

"Your mother won’t let you," she continued. "She won’t, and for some reason, neither has my grandfather. So, I’ll ask him myself."

The prince smiled and nodded softly, still caressing the younger woman’s face.

"You have to be my wife, Jaella," he said seriously, looking into her eyes. "We can't delay it any longer; I've rejected every woman my mother has brought to the Red Keep."

"She must be very upset."

"She and a few families," he said dismissively. Jaella looked at him, surprised, and though she was curious, she didn’t dare ask about the terrible fates some of those women might have suffered. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

She nodded, trusting him as she always did.

"I'll talk to my grandfather tonight... You should talk to him too."

"Yes, I'm sure the plea of two spoiled children will make him see reason," he joked, drawing a laugh from her. Aegon's expression turned serious. "I’ll talk to him, I promise."

"Now let's go to the dining room or your mother will go crazy," Jaella said, trying to pull away.

Aegon held her in place, and Jaella frowned, but her expression softened when she noticed the way he was looking at her.

"It’s been over a year; my bed has been lonely," he murmured, brushing his thumb over Jaella’s lips. "Aren’t you going to grant your future husband a kiss?"

Jaella smiled and felt her heart race as he leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that, though brief, was charged with the desire they had both kept at bay all this time.

"It’s impossible for me to believe you’ve been alone all this time," she said when they parted.

"My bed has been lonely," he corrected her, making her roll her eyes. "I didn’t think it was right for another woman to be there after you," he whispered, still caressing her face.

"Keep it that way," she said as a threat, but Aegon just smiled and placed a fleeting kiss on her lips.

"As the princess commands."

═════𖠁 ═════

Helaena was undoubtedly an enigmatic person. Even during the years she had spent in King’s Landing, her own mother had never fully understood her, which made her feel isolated even when surrounded by attention. However, things were different in Dragonstone. Although not many understood her riddles and the visions that appeared in her dreams, she received much more patience and understanding from her husband and her half-sister than from the family she had left behind in the Red Keep. Jaella and Rhaena were also good company for her, and she enjoyed spending afternoons playing with the little ones, especially Joffrey, who loved listening to her talk about insects for long periods.

She felt at peace, but now that her mother had arrived, she couldn’t help but feel a certain anxiety. Alicent had once told her that one day she would come to retrieve her, and she feared that this might be the case. The queen constantly spoke of how Rhaenyra would put their heads on spikes to claim the throne. As a child, Helaena had been terrified. When she was betrothed to Jacaerys, she thought it wasn’t so bad because she adored the young prince, but her mother never ceased to instill fear in her, saying that bastards were inherently bad and that marrying Jacaerys would bring her suffering day and night.

Later, Harland Arryn had secretly delivered the first letter Jacaerys had written to her. In it, the prince expressed interest in getting to know her and allowing her to know him as well, showing her a side of himself that starkly contrasted with her mother’s gossip. When they married, it became abundantly clear to Helaena that everything her mother had said was vile lies—not just about Jacaerys but about Rhaenyra. Especially about Rhaenyra.

Her half-sister had done nothing but protect and care for her, just as she did with Jaella. It was clear that Rhaenyra was made to be a mother of sons, but she had a special affection for the young women in her family. The princess was extremely loving toward her, Jaella, and Rhaena.

Helaena didn’t want to leave Dragonstone, didn’t want to return to King’s Landing, and certainly didn’t want to go back to her mother.

It was Helaena’s custom to take a bath before bed; it helped her relax. And it was Jacaerys’ custom to brush his wife’s hair before they slept, as not even the maids were allowed to touch her hair, so they had had to teach the prince how to manage the task of styling the young princess’s hair.

“Is everything alright?” Jacaerys asked, watching her through the mirror. “Did something happen with your beetles this morning? I saw you looking at them the longest”

Helaena shook her head without looking up at him. She seemed nervous, evident in the way she was torturing her own fingers, peeling the skin at the edges. Jacaerys frowned; she only did that when she was worried, something that hadn’t been common since they had been at Dragonstone.

“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered, still staring down at her lap.

Jacaerys paused his task, setting the brush aside. Moving slowly so as not to startle his wife, he carefully circled around her and extended his hand, waiting for her to take it. He always waited for her to touch him first.

Helaena hesitated for a few seconds but then placed her hand on the prince's and dared to lift her gaze.

"Where, my wife?" he asked gently. "You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to. Your place is here with me. Where do you fear going?"

"She will want to take me," Helaena said, clinging to her husband's arm, her eyes filling with tears.

"Alicent?" His frown deepened, and Helaena nodded. "She won't take you. I promise."

Almost as if Jacaerys’ words were being challenged, there was a knock on the door, announcing the late-night visit of Queen Alicent. Helaena’s grip on Velaryon’s hand tightened, and her eyes widened in fear. He gently stroked her hand, trying to reassure her that everything would be fine, knowing well that the queen's demeanor would not be hostile, at least not at that moment.

"Your Grace," the dark-haired prince greeted, offering a slight bow of his head. "To what do we owe your visit at this hour?"

"I wanted to speak with my daughter, as we didn’t have the chance to during dinner."

Jacaerys nodded, his lips forming a thin line meant to resemble a smile. Helaena’s gaze pleaded for him to stay, and he considered it for a moment but ultimately decided that it was best to give them privacy

"Very well," the prince said, more to his wife than as a response to the queen. "I won’t go far; I’ll be right outside if you need me."

Helaena gave a soft nod, and when Jacaerys let go of her hand, she quickly reached out to stop him, making a silent request he immediately understood. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, a gesture that seemed to calm her, as if that simple act had given her the strength she needed at that moment.

"My sweet daughter," Alicent whispered as she approached, wrapping her in an embrace that Helaena reluctantly accepted. She didn’t enjoy her mother’s effusive hugs. "How have you been? You've replied to so few of my letters, I feared it was the bastard hiding them from you."

The princess grimaced in displeasure.

"Don’t call him that," she whispered. "We don’t use that word here."

Alicent looked at her as if hurt by her words, but Helaena didn’t meet her eyes, so the pained expression on her mother’s face went entirely unnoticed by the young princess.

"I promise you’ll soon be home again. We’ll crown Aegon, and you won’t have to stay here any longer. He’ll annul the marriage, and you’ll be able to—"

"I am at peace here," she finally said, mustering the courage to look at her mother.

She wished she hadn’t. She regretted it immediately upon seeing how Alicent’s face twisted into one of displeasure. It was the same look she gave all her children, especially Aegon. Helaena didn’t like it.

"Peace... among traitors," Alicent said in a low voice, shaking her head in disbelief. "You cannot trust them, Helaena. They have filled your head with lies. Rhaenyra will..."

"I have seen the dragons dance in the dark if they are not allowed to intertwine their wings," Helaena spat the words with bitterness. "You will make the dragons dance."

The queen swallowed hard, unable to hide the fear that always gripped her when her daughter spoke this way. She did not understand her and did not want to, but Helaena’s words always lingered, haunting her mind.

"My love, I..."

Alicent reached out, trying to grasp her daughter’s arm once more, but Helaena pulled away again.

"You do not hear them, but I do," Helaena murmured, her voice a mere whisper. "The dragons are restless..."

"Helaena," Alicent tried again, her tone firmer, "this is for your own good. Everything I do is to protect you."

But the princess did not respond. She simply turned her face toward the window, gazing at the horizon beyond Dragonstone, as if there, in the distance, lay the future she so feared.

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Blue Castle Book Club 2.0 - Chapter 3

Cousin Stickles is a fascinating character. She seems almost… not immune to the Stirlingness of her family – she’s definitely a Stirling in her own right – but off in her own world almost? She’s entirely unphased by the weather or by her companions’ moods. She wishes Valancy many happy returns on her birthday because that’s what you do on birthdays. The weather has nothing to do with it! She’s definitely with Cousin Georgiana in the ‘we do things because that is how they are done’ Stirling camp. Some Stirlings make rules and others follow them, and Cousin Stickles follows them.

Is it ever explained how Cousin Stickles came to live with them? Are they just the two outcasts of the Stirling family – two widows, one who married and then killed a Stirling and one who had the audacity to marry someone other than a Stirling? Cousin Stickles doesn’t seem to have been close with Mr. Fredrick Stirling, or if she was I don’t think it’s ever mentioned. Did Mrs. Fredrick just need help after Valancy was born and Cousin Stickles happened to be available? Honestly the tumblr shipping goggles are as reasonable an explanation for it as any.

Mrs. Fredrick announces that if a person makes up her mind not to have colds she won’t have them. Given the whispers about how Fredrick himself died from last chapter, one has to wonder if Mrs. Fredrick is especially touchy on the subject of colds and what can or cannot be done about catching them. Again, nothing excuses her treatment of her daughter, but she herself clearly has not been well treated either.

“Oh!” Mrs. Frederick had been a Wansbarra and the Wansbarra smile was not an asset. “I see. Well, it should suit you then. You are childish enough in all conscience, my dear child.” “I am twenty-nine,” said the dear child desperately.

I don’t have much to say about these lines except that I like them a great deal and Maud is very good at what she does. Her plotting is at times dubious, but her turns of phrase are honestly divine.

An interesting note: the house is filled with portraits of dead Stirlings, but Valancy has to guess what her mother and Cousin Stickles looked like on their wedding days. You would think, given the importance that the clan places on being married, that wedding portraits would be proudly displayed, particularly in this household where the other obvious indicator of marriage – a husband – is no longer available. But clearly Valancy has never seen portraits of either event. Was it not the done thing to do wedding portraits? We have photographs, no matter what era you think the book is set in. But no images of either wedding to be found.

John Foster enters the narrative! Let’s see what wisdom John Foster has to share:

“The woods are so human that to know them one must live with them. An occasional saunter through them, keeping to the well-trodden paths, will never admit us to their intimacy. If we wish to be friends we must seek them out and win them by frequent, reverent visits at all hours; by morning, by noon, and by night; and at all seasons, in spring, in summer, in autumn, in winter. Otherwise we can never really know them and any pretence we may make to the contrary will never impose on them. They have their own effective way of keeping aliens at a distance and shutting their hearts to mere casual sightseers. It is of no use to seek the woods from any motive except sheer love of them; they will find us out at once and hide all their sweet, old-world secrets from us. But if they know we come to them because we love them they will be very kind to us and give us such treasures of beauty and delight as are not bought or sold in any market-place. For the woods, when they give at all, give unstintedly and hold nothing back from their true worshippers. We must go to them lovingly, humbly, patiently, watchfully, and we shall learn what poignant loveliness lurks in the wild places and silent intervals, lying under starshine and sunset, what cadences of unearthly music are harped on aged pine boughs or crooned in copses of fir, what delicate savours exhale from mosses and ferns in sunny corners or on damp brooklands, what dreams and myths and legends of an older time haunt them. Then the immortal heart of the woods will beat against ours and its subtle life will steal into our veins and make us its own forever, so that no matter where we go or how widely we wander we shall yet be drawn back to the forest to find our most enduring kinship.”

I have heard that Foster’s passages are recycled from Maud’s own forays into nature writing, but I’m going to look at them more thematically because honestly I mostly skimmed them the first time ‘round and I’m curious if they’re all quite as on the nose as this one. Because this passage comes to us immediately following Valancy’s morose pronouncement that nobody loves her and she might as well go eat worms for all anyone would notice or care if she died. And John Foster tells us that the woods, like humans, must be deliberately cultivated if we want to win their friendship. We must approach them openly and earnestly with love in our heart, and that they will be able to tell if we’re just going through the motions and don’t really want to get to know them.

Valancy, as we already know, has lived a stifling life filled with keeping up appearances and doing things because that is how they have always been done. No one has ever been interested in Valancy for her own sake, not her family, not her peers, not even the adults in her life who might have been able to reach her, like the librarian in town. And so they don’t get to see her heart and are forbidden from knowing her secrets. She is desperate for love, but not so desperate that she will try to force it where it doesn’t exist.

We’re also given a very clear thesis statement about how John Foster loves: deliberately, and with his entire being. This is definitely not foreshadowing.

Colors mentioned:

Yellow neck

Black notebook

Not even John Foster can bring color into this world yet.

[mixelation]

some itachi + romance meta for reborn au ->

so, my personal headcanon for itachi is that he has a lot of little idle romantic fantasies about a nondescript fantasy partner, but it takes a pretty big push for him to go "oh, i love this person." he's open to sex if his partner wants it, but he doesn't really care about it otherwise. in other words, he'd be into a romantic partner if he happened upon one (and, like, he didn't have four thousand other high-priority problems the relationship would be incompatible with), but he's not actively looking and he doesn't really need one to be happy.

in an AU where the massacre didn't happen, I think he'd be open to dating. but in mutagenicity, he DID live through the massacre and being in akatsuki, and he IS mentally 20+ years older than he looks, and oh my god, please don't make him talk to children. especially uchiha children he killed in previous life. please.

i don't think all ninja clans necessarily cling to old fashioned traditions about marriage and bloodlines, but i like the idea of some of them hanging around for Shenanigans. like no one would really care if itachi were gay, as long as he quietly kept his boyfriend as a boyfriend and married someone capable of childbirth and made that new heir. they don't even care if the heir is female! progress :)

but also itachi has a mysterious genetic disease so they're like. hmm yeah okay you may marry outside of the clan. (desperately start researching if there's some sort of Test for sharigan babies)

mikoto has of course Noticed itachi just like.... isn't interested? in even talking to other teens?? so she wants to get him started kind of early. listen itachi, marriage will be SO much easier if you've dated your bride and figured out someone you actually like. also if you don't find one i will simply find one for you at some certain age and you will have no say in the matter.

the first few times she sends him on dates she just socially manipulates a situation where somehow he ends up alone with a girl mikoto likes. the girl is almost always very accomplished for her age, polite, pretty. literally nothing is wrong with her except she's 16 and itachi hates strangers. like, he's fine with them. he can put on a smile and be polite for a limited amount of time. but Inner Itachi is so fucking mean and fucked up, getting socially close to people almost always makes them hate him (for valid reasons) and then also his date is 16. so mikoto keeps putting him in a position where he's inevitably going to make a poor teenaged girl cry because he told her she'll never get promoted to jounin because her mission completion rate is mediocre, which he does often feel bad about, but also he cannot do anything about his horrible personality and cannot help himself. and then even if he likes her, what is he supposed to do? be like "yeah i'm just going to tell you my opinion and it will come out blunt and mean and also i'll be right and refuse to apologize, it's because of my deeply fucked up past life where the state told me i had to pick between murdering my entire family or letting my family destroy everything i care about, sorry about that." no! obviously he can't do that!!!

and his feelings about mikoto in general just, like, insane. she had her hand in supporting the coup in his previous life, but she raised him and loved him, but also she let him kill her so he'd see it in his nightmares constantly, and this mikoto didn't do any of that but he still sees her in his dreams and she is EQUALLY socially manipulative in this timeline, and honestly this is sort of making his feelings about her even more insane, but obviously he can't talk to her about it. so he needs to figure out way to dodge this whole dating situation in order to avoid uchiha massacre #2

so one day he's stealing dango right off tori's plate while she's in the bathroom, and he's like. holy fuck. tori is a girl, and she's not even going to get upset i'm about to do this to her. and then she comes back and is like "why the fuck did you steal my food" and he tells her it's because she did a disproportionately low amount of substandard work on the mission and hence deserves less of the mission budget. and she DOES rub the inside of his sleeping bag down with poison ivy but she also doesn't fucking cry.

itachi, flipping his sleeping bag inside out: perfect. we're dating now. <3

tori is NOT mikoto's top pick because she's a wild card and not the easily controlled nice girl mikoto was aiming for, but. at least itachi seems to actually like her? and she hasn't come crying to mikoto about how her son horrible yet, so. she's even got a decent amount of social clout for (checks note) a defector from another village who seems to go out of her way to be annoying and unlikable. mikoto isn't really thrilled but she backs off

dating is basically nothing like itachi's idle fantasies because tori is also deeply messed up, and also itachi spent a VERY long time in the other timeline convinced she was going to blab his secrets and Ruin Everything and he really wanted to kill her, but also that DID translate into a weird sort of respect pretty early on in this timeline, and they can have actual conversations about stuff. she helped him kill danzo, no questions asked. they like watching bad movies and dragging them to pieces together. she willingly reads his favorite book. they say mean shit to each other and it's fine because they've mutually accepted the other is just like this. it's comfortable. also pointing tori'a ability to ruin everything for everyone is so nice when pointed at someone itachi doesn't like

so even once itachi is old enough he can date Actual Adults, tori is like, "hey are you going to break up with me?" and he's like, "........no?" and she's like "okay." and they move in together and have separate bedrooms and tori attempts to kill him at least twice over burning food so bad it won't come off the pot, but it's comfortable and they're both happy

(and also itachi realizes tori fucking loves going along with bits, so if he tells her he wants to do some stupid romantic thing, she will just go along with it and have fun. wild)

i think they get married kind of late For The Setting (like very late twenties) because it takes tori years to figure out their illegal test tube baby and they just don't really see the point without the baby. mikoto finds this immensely frustrating. but at least they're on the same page, even if it's the WRONG PAGE

[violetlunette]

Right, so I’m going to say something that will probably get me some flack but—I think Heinry’s worse than Rashta.

Notes:

*Anti-Heinry

*Slight defense—very slight—of Rashta

*Anti-Ergi

TRIGGER WARNING:

*Mentions of rape

Don’t misunderstand; Rashta’s actions are far worse, and she wrecked a lot of people’s lives. While I sympathize with her, I will never deny that she earned her villain status. However, all her actions were done out of desperation and ignorance.

At the start, Rasta had no idea what her presence would mean to Navier. She just thought the Emperor brought her into the family and that they would share him. And how would she? She was a slave isolated from the world and abused in every way by her owners. (And yet are portrayed as more sympathetic than her, but I digress.) On top of that, in their country, it wasn't uncommon for a kind to take a mistress. How would Rashta have known she was basically a homewrecker?

And then, it was only when others began manipulating her and Navier's brother tried to abort her child, that Rashta purposely lashed out at others to protect herself.

As the story went on, she was abused mentally and emotionally by everyone around her and gaslighted. She only believed one person was on her side, but he was the one behind all her pain and more. (Fuck you Ergi! I hope he gets stabbed with a yeevil fork and tossed out with the rest of the shit.)

I’m not saying she shouldn’t have been accountable, as she should have and was. And Navier's attitude towards her was justified. 

However, Heinry pulled a lot of shit as well, but unlike Rashta, he not only didn’t need to, but he knew better.

The western kingdom was not under threat from the Eastern empire, nor was his kingdom in need of anything. Heinry was just greedy. He was even going to take Navier as a political prisoner to make her fall in love with him through Stockholm. The only reason he didn’t is because of the divorce and Navier proposing marriage to him.

Then there’s his actions towards Krista. 

While not an innocent bird, I don’t think she crossed a moral line that earned her final fate. If I recall right, the worst she did was let a rumor spread. She didn’t even try to take advantage of Heinry when he was under the love potion and passed out on her lap. Yet, he forced her into suicide and had her remaining family spit on her memory. (Good job looking after your brother’s widowed wife, bird shit.)

And when you think about it, Heinry’s partly responsible for everything Rashta has done as he manipulated her through Ergi. Don’t get me wrong, Ergi’s actions are his own, but Heinry is the one who gave him the orders and helped. True, the former would have done what he did without the latter, but Heinry was the one to put him in the position to do so.

And on top of he spent a decade participating in rape by tricking girls into sleeping with him. (What they did is called buddy swap. Look it up yourself for details.)

And again, unlike Rashta, Heinry, a royal Prince raised with a royal education and more, knew better. He knew his actions were harmful and selfish but did it anyway for greed. And, again, there was no need for his actions. The Western kingdom was flourishing and under no threat from any other nation. They were said to be equal in power to the Empire, they just didn't have the name for--reasons.

Heinry wasn’t in a desperate situation where he was worried he would lose everything if he didn’t act, unlike Rashta. Worse, being a man of the world and not a slave, Heinry was well aware of the ramifications of his choices and that people would be hurt. Yet, despite all he did and unlike Rashta, he was never held accountable for anything. Why? Because he's the male lead, who's close to Navier. They get away with everything.

To sum it all up;

While Rashta's crimes were arguably worse, they were done out of ignorance, manipulation of several parties, and desperation. She had no idea what else to do other than what she did, and her choices were limited due to her gender, status, and knowledge.

Heinry’s actions were out of selfishness, greed, and of his own free will. No one pushed him to do anything, he CHOSE to even though he didn’t have to and had several options before him. Had he stayed his hand, he wouldn’t have lost anything. And again, through Ergi, he manipulated Rashta, so Heinrey has a hand in her crimes, as well.

He had choices and several options, and he chose the ones that hurt others. Yet was never held accountable for any of it and was even rewarded for being a terrible person. 

And that’s why I find him worse than Rashta.

[tevanbegins]

~So my ultra-futuristic, utopian endgame vision for Tevan led to this fic (This is officially the second fic I wrote, but the first one I am posting anywhere.) Hope you enjoy, please comment and RB if you like!~

Math Troubles

Summary: On his day off, Buck steps in to help out his and Tommy's teenage daughter with her math assignment, while Tommy is out on duty. Unfortunately, Buck turns out to be more trouble than help, and Tommy has to intervene over the phone.

----

"Dad," Spencer sighed in utter exasperation. "I think your help is taking me longer to do my math homework than if I were to do it on my own!"

"But sweetheart, it's taking longer because you aren't following the exact steps I'm showing you," Buck said adamantly, refusing to admit defeat. The father-daughter pair was sitting on the bed in Spencer's room, with the thirteen-year-old's books and stationery items scattered all around them.

"No. I'm calling Papa right now. Only he can save me from this--- this situation," insisted Spencer. She promptly video-called Tommy despite Buck's protests, desperately hoping he would answer. Meanwhile, Buck ruffled the pages of her Geometry textbook in search of some solid proof to back up his argument. Luckily for Spencer, Tommy's warm and scrunchy smile beamed through her phone's screen in a few seconds. "Hey Spence, my love. What's up?" he asked her.

"When are you going to be home, Papa? I need your help with my math homework, especially with this geometry assignment," Spencer replied, a pleading expression on her face.

"Sorry darling. My shift is on for another six hours at least, so I won't be home until later in the evening. I thought Dad was going to help you out since he is off-duty today?" Tommy enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"There. Thank you, Tommy!" Buck interrupted the conversation, rotating the phone in Spencer's hand horizontally so that Tommy could see them both. "That is exactly what I am doing, but our stubborn daughter refuses to solve the math problems per my methods. She says only you can save her from this situation, because apparently I can't. How humiliating is that!" Buck complained.

"I understand, Evan," Tommy gave Buck a mock-apologetic cluck, trying hard to stifle his laugh. He was well aware that math proficiency was his husband's biggest weak point-turned-self-esteem issue.

"C'mon Dad, you're just over-reacting," Spencer rolled her eyes at Buck. "I love you, but you need to accept that you are terrible at math!" she tried to soothe the burn with an extra sweet smile.

Tommy burst out laughing at Spencer's remark, but immediately pursed his lips when Buck shot him an angry look through the screen.

"No, I'm not!" Buck retorted, turning his attention away from the phone towards their daughter. "Spence. I agree I wasn't always the greatest at the subject, but haven't I told you the story of how I became a mathematical genius after getting struck by lightning?"

"Yes Dad, you have, about a million times. I know that legend by heart, but the genius part is hard to believe when you keep asking me to use the Pythagoras theorem on an oblique triangle!" Spencer justified her stance.

"Well, you won't even try using it before shooting me down like that!" Buck groaned. At that, Tommy felt an instant need to intervene before this Buckley-Kinard family conversation took a more hilarious turn, else his coworkers at the station would think he was going crazy from how hard he was laughing.

"Evan, my sweet, sweet husband," Tommy let out a deep sigh, still unable to get over how adorable, dorky, stubborn, and unintentionally funny Buck could be even after fifteen years of marriage. "You cannot use the Pythagoras theorem on an oblique triangle. It is simply not possible. You know why? Because it doesn't have any damn right angle in it!" he tried to reason.

"What now? The theorem doesn't apply to non-right angled triangles?" Buck gasped in shock.

"You see? Papa knows!" Spencer gave Tommy a thumbs up and a wide victory grin. "That's why I said only he can save me in this situation!" she said, looking at Buck. "Because your knowledge of basic geometric concepts itself seems questionable to me, sorry not sorry, Dad!"

"So you think your Papa is better than me at math? In spite of my lightning-induced mathematical super-abilities? Well, he can't be any better at math than I am!" Buck declared obstinately.

"Hey! Now that's a controversial thing to say. I'm a formally-licensed pilot — it's literally a prerequisite for my job to have good math skills!" Tommy cut in. "Have you maybe considered that your lightning thing was a limited-period offer from the Gods? I mean, poor Pythagoras must be rolling in his grave right now because of you, Evan," Tommy sniggered.

"What a snob!" Buck cried, looking flushed with embarrassment. "Remember, you won't be able to hide behind the phone screen when you face me at home tonight, Tommy!" he added in a stern voice, and then dramatically moved out of the view of the front camera lens.

"Spence darling, what trouble have you got me into with your Dad? I'm going to have to stop at a florist's shop on the way back home now," Tommy exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Tell him that only flowers is not going to cut it. He needs to get a big box of chocolates too, or else he won't be allowed into the house tonight," Buck nudged Spencer to convey the message, but Tommy had heard it loud and clear.

"Yes Evan. Flowers and chocolates it is!" Tommy responded, hiding a chuckle. "Well, I am going to hang up now. Before I can say anything more to piss him off," Tommy whispered to Spencer and winked. "Bye darling, see you later!"

"B-bye Papa, love you!" Spencer blew Tommy a kiss and then put her phone away after the call ended. Looking at Buck's expression, she snorted and got into a wild fit of laughter, so much that her belly hurt. And despite his pseudo-attempts at pretending to be upset over this roast session of his math skills, Buck burst out laughing too, alongside his daughter.

Good at math or not, Spencer knew she had the sweetest, funniest, and the most loving dads in the whole wide world, and she was the luckiest girl ever to have them both.

------

[nyaagolor]

A genuinely shocking amnt of people said they wanted to see my “Apollo backstory but it’s exclusively based on AA4” so huzzah! Self-indulgence on main! It’s under the readmore because I don’t wanna clog anyone’s dash :)

Everything starts with Thalassa because of course it does. She’s part of the Granmarye Troupe but kinda Hates It. Her father gives her very little autonomy, and she feels like they’re treating her more as an asset or employee than family. She's good at putting on a brave face but she has very little autonomy there and is completely miserable, so she sneaks out to meet with the audience sometimes to get a taste of freedom. It’s on one of these little trips that she meets Jove, who she quickly falls in love with. They continue to meet in secret, and Thalassa’s resentment for the troupe only grows. The day she turns 18, she runs away to go elope with him, not leaving a note or any indication of where she’s gone

The two of them are happily married for a year and have a child, but Jove dies in an accident (unrelated to Kuhrain in this version) only a year into their marriage. Thalassa, now a 19 year old single mom with no money and no documents, realizes the only person who can help her now is the last person she wants to see. Desperate, she calls Magnifi, who agrees to help her IF she gives up the kid and comes back to the troupe. He thinks if she still has an attachment to the child she’ll try and run away again as soon as she can (and he’s right!). Thalassa gives Apollo to the orphanage with one of her bracelets and secretly tries to keep track of him— she does plan on coming back for him as soon as she can, Magnifi be damned

Magnifi, knowing that both Zak and Valant are in love with his daughter, actively encourages the both of them to pursue her, hoping one of them will get her to fall in love and give her a reason not to leave the troupe. Zak is the one who ends up succeeding. They have Trucy together and things immediately take a turn for the worse

Thalassa immediately gets very depressed after having Trucy and nothing seems to cheer her up. She can’t stop thinking about being forced to give up her first child and the life she lost and nothing Zak does seems to help. Eventually, Magnifi steps in and says that she needs to get over it and get back to performing. To everyone’s surprise, Thalassa agrees without protest

This is when the “accident” happens. Air quotes here because surprise! It was not an accident at all. Thalassa was tired, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to go scorched earth on the entirety of Troupe Granmarye, so she loaded the gun improperly on purpose in hopes that the aftermath and scandal will bring the troupe down with her. She somehow survives, but only Magnifi knows. Not wanting news of it to escape and seeing an opportunity to hold this over Zak and Valant’s heads, he ships his amnesiac daughter off to Borgnia and tries to wipe his hands of the whole thing

While clearing through Thalassa’s things, Magnifi finds all of the information on Apollo and Jove, which he shows to Zak. Zak, who didn’t know about Apollo, feels wildly hurt by it all. He ends up projecting a lot of his feelings onto Trucy— he still loves her but becomes more distant because he’s grieving Thalassa’s death and “betrayal”

This is how Zak knows about Apollo and why he tells Phoenix about it. Phoenix does try to find Apollo as soon as he learns about him, HOWEVER, Apollo is trans and all of Thalassa’s documents have his deadname on them so they can’t be used to track him down. (By the time Phoenix realizes Apollo is the kid he’s been looking for ((via the bracelet)) he’s already broken Apollo’s trust enough that he doesn’t feel like he can safely drop that truth bomb without scaring him away. By the time Apollo DOES come to trust Phoenix, Thalassa has her memories back, at which point Phoenix feels it’s her truth to tell). Anyway.

Trucy’s story is effectively identical to canon so I don’t have much to say about that

While in the orphanage, Apollo decides he wants to be a lawyer bc he hears about Phoenix (specifically the whole thing about sticking up for people with no one on their side). He goes thru the lawyer track in HS bc that’s a canon thing in AA apparently and tests into a special fast track law program so he can save as much money on tuition as possible

Apollo works his ass off, he has a ton of jobs and works indexing night shifts for the courthouse. Everyone starts to know who he is bc he works every law related job he can no matter how miserable. This is how Kristoph finds out about him

He works all thru law school but basically all of his money goes to tuition so he goes between shitty apartments and crashing at the courthouse / work when he runs out of rent money. This is the OTHER reason everyone knows who he is and how kristoph finds out about him— he’s always loitering around the courthouse. He makes a name for himself as a hard worker, being fast + thorough with paperwork, and having an excellent eye for detail

During internship hunting season, Kristoph approaches Apollo— he greatly values a dedicated hard worker like Apollo and thinks Apollo’s abysmal financials are good leverage for manipulation. I hc that Kristoph specializes in fraud cases, so Apollo’s talents are extremely relevant to Kristoph’s interests. Kristoph’s firm is only himself because of all the illegal shit he does (less eyes less chance of being caught) so he gambles on taking in Apollo. He ends up personally fixing up Apollo’s credit score, ensuring he has proper documents, and gets him set up with a decent paycheck so he can start to develop a savings account. Apollo decides he would die for him

This continues until Kristoph plays a bad hand— he intends on having Apollo defend Phoenix in the hopes that he’ll lose so he can hang the resulting verdict over Apollo’s head to manipulate him. Turnabout Trump happens and Apollo ends up back where he started, broke and with less trust in others than he had before (which is saying a lot). During his internship with Kristoph he managed to get together a tiny rainy day fund and even started to save up for top surgery, but all that money has to be used to cover rent while he’s jobless bc of the Turnabout Trump aftermath. It’s when the money finally runs out that he answers Trucy’s phone call and agrees to work for the WAA

Canon proceeds as normal, but Apollo has extra paranoia because he’s worried all the money and documents and credit that Kristoph gave him were faked. Also, Thalassa doesn't tell Trucy and Apollo about the whole Thing because part of that would be admitting the role she played in how their lives turned out and she is not quite ready to face her demons yet