#but it´s ultra secret and no one will ever know

[tobysbadhorns]

no one must know who i am imagining doing this, but thank you it is such a beautiful thought to find comfort and peace in .

imagining your otp doing the forehead touch is literally the most important thing in the whole world. everybody take a second and stop scrolling and imagine your otp doing the forehead touch. okay. you can move on now.

[novaursa]

Please please please 🙏🏻🙏🏻 publish your Arthur Dayne and Targaryen stories! I have always wanted to read those but there were never enough of them. For me it would be ultra win because I absolutely LOVE your writing and have been following you for quite a while and have read almost all what you have published

The Price of Fire (1)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is second child born to King Aerys II and Queen Rhaella. Timeline and plot are all over the place to suit the story.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (all warnings are up for this one, Aerys II is a warning on his own)

- Word count: 6 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @onlyrealjoy

- A/N: So, here it is. I hope you enjoy it. This was made as a one long chapter, but I had to separate it due to the character limit here. For more parts of this story and my other works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Next chapter: 2

You stand in the Great Hall of the Red Keep, at your brother's side, beneath the shadow of the Iron Throne. The dark room echoes with the low murmur of lords and courtiers, their whispers mingling with the crackle of distant torches. Your head is bowed, your gaze directed to the cool stone floor, every inch the obedient princess that King Aerys II expects. But as the flicker of torchlight catches on polished steel, your eyes drift upward—just for a heartbeat.

Ser Arthur Dayne, resplendent in his armor, stands tall and unyielding among the Kingsguard. The white cloak draped over his broad shoulders reflects the firelight like the dawn. His expression is the picture of calm, yet his eyes—those pale, lilac-gray eyes—meet yours in that fleeting moment. Warmth curls in your chest, unbidden and unmistakable. There is a softness in his gaze reserved only for you, a silent promise hidden within those depths, something tender amidst the ironclad duty.

Rhaegar shifts beside you, the smallest of movements, but enough to bring you back to the present. His silver hair glints under the dim light as he turns his head ever so slightly. You feel the weight of his gaze, even without looking. He caught it, just as he always does—the silent exchange that passes between you and Ser Arthur. Your brother says nothing, but you know Rhaegar too well. He fears for you, not because he disapproves, but because of what your father might do should the king’s fractured mind discover this delicate thread of affection. Aerys has grown unpredictable—dangerous—in his madness since Duskendale, and the court is rife with suspicion and fear.

"Y/N," Rhaegar’s voice is gentle, barely a whisper, but it pulls you from your thoughts. You glance up at him, noting the concern that shadows his violet eyes. "It is nearly time for Father’s entrance. Be mindful, please."

You nod, an obedient response, though your heart is still tangled in that single look shared with Arthur. "Of course, brother," you murmur, the words escaping like a breath you didn’t know you held.

Before you can say more, the heavy doors groan open. All conversation dies instantly, and the tension in the hall thickens like a storm cloud. King Aerys sweeps in, his once regal bearing now marred by the gauntness of his frame and the wild gleam in his eyes. His silver hair, long and unkempt, hangs like a veil, doing nothing to mask the haunted expression etched across his face. The court bends the knee, yet you remain standing beside Rhaegar, who doesn’t flinch. You sense Ser Arthur’s presence still, always close, but your eyes remain trained forward. For now.

“Where is my son?” Aerys’ voice rings out, sharp and edged with paranoia. His eyes dart wildly around the hall before settling on Rhaegar. “Here you are, at last,” he sneers, the words twisted with mockery. “And your sister, too. Always so… dutiful.” The king’s gaze slides to you, and you force your face into an expression of perfect neutrality. The madness lurking behind his eyes makes your skin prickle, but you do not falter.

Rhaegar steps forward, ever the prince and heir, with a grace and poise that belies the tension simmering beneath. “Father,” he addresses Aerys with that same calm tone, though you can hear the tightness underneath. “The court gathers to hear your will.”

The king’s laughter bursts out, a brittle sound that echoes unpleasantly. “My will?” he repeats, almost mocking. “Yes, my will indeed… I shall have it obeyed.”

You feel it again—Arthur’s eyes on you. You dare a quick glance toward him, longing to feel the comfort of that gaze, the reassurance that you are not alone in this court of shadows. For the briefest instant, your eyes meet his, and despite the chaos that surrounds you, there is something grounding in that unspoken connection. Rhaegar shifts again, but this time, he does nothing to draw attention to your exchange. Perhaps he understands that in this court, where every move could be watched and twisted, a single kind look is the only sanctuary you have.

The tension in the room grows as Aerys' mood shifts again, unpredictably. “They plot,” he hisses, half to himself, half to the court. “Everyone plots.” His eyes land on you again, a flash of something sinister crossing them. But before he can speak, Rhaegar smoothly steps forward, drawing his attention away.

“Father, the lords await your command,” Rhaegar says, with a tone that brooks no refusal.

Aerys blinks, seemingly caught off guard by his son’s boldness, then barks out another shrill laugh. “Yes… yes, they do. We mustn’t keep them waiting, must we?”

The king’s focus shifts to the matters of the realm, his erratic mind drawn elsewhere, and the danger passes—for now. But you know better than to assume safety within these walls. As the court proceedings drag on, your mind drifts back to that moment—just a glance, but in it, you found strength.

You have long wondered how much longer you can endure the gilded cage of the Red Keep. And how long Ser Arthur can maintain the distance that duty demands. There are lines neither of you should cross—lines your brother understands all too well. But as you catch one final glimpse of Arthur at the edge of the hall, you can’t help but wonder if one day, one of you will step over that line, consequences be damned.

The gardens of the Red Keep are a rare oasis amidst the dull and somber atmosphere of the castle. The scent of blooming roses and honeysuckle mingles with the warmth of the afternoon sun, a welcome contrast to the cold, shadowed halls you’ve grown accustomed to. It’s a rare gift, this stolen moment of freedom. Your father’s whims are unpredictable, and more often than not, he keeps you locked away like a caged bird, much like your mother. You shudder at the thought of her—of the haunted look in her eyes and the endless hours she spends trapped in her chambers.

But today, you walk among the flowers, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your slippers a soothing rhythm. Beside you, Ser Arthur Dayne maintains a respectful distance, his hand resting on the hilt of Dawn, but you can sense his ever-watchful presence. His silent vigilance offers a comfort that words cannot. Even in a world as perilous as yours, with schemes and shadows lurking around every corner, there is a rare peace in these stolen moments with him.

You pause by a fountain, letting your fingers trail through the cool water as your gaze lifts to the sun-dappled trees. For a moment, you think you see a flicker of movement in the shadows—something, or someone, watching. You stiffen, narrowing your eyes, but whatever it was vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Varys, you wonder? The Spider is known for his silent comings and goings, slipping through the cracks in the walls like a wisp of smoke. Your heart skips a beat, unease rippling through you.

Ser Arthur steps closer, sensing your discomfort. “Is something amiss, my lady?” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that always soothes you.

You hesitate, searching the shadows once more, but find nothing. “Perhaps just a trick of the light,” you murmur, though you are not entirely convinced. “These gardens hold more eyes than petals, it seems.”

He gives a slight nod, acknowledging the subtle warning in your words. “In the Red Keep, one is wise to assume they are always being watched.” There’s an undercurrent of concern in his tone, though his face remains as composed as ever.

You continue walking, this time with him closer than before, and the silence stretches between you, comfortable in its own way. You want to speak, to say something meaningful, but the walls of the Red Keep have ears that are eager to twist even the most innocent of conversations. Still, you crave the solace of his voice, the reassurance that he is not merely your sworn sword, but a kindred spirit in a place devoid of trust.

“Do you ever miss the lands beyond these walls?” you ask, keeping your tone light, as if you were asking about nothing more than the weather. “The Dornish marches, the green fields of the Reach… there must be so much more color there than in this dreary castle.”

Arthur’s expression softens, and for a brief moment, the stern knight disappears, replaced by the man beneath. “There is beauty in those places,” he replies, his voice laced with a wistfulness that rarely surfaces. “But it is not the land that makes one long to return. It’s the people—the bonds we forge. Even the most barren desert can feel like home if it is shared with those who matter.”

Your heart stirs at his words, though you must force yourself to remain composed, even as a longing thrums in your chest. He has always spoken carefully, never crossing the invisible lines that bind him to duty, yet somehow, you hear more in his words than what is spoken aloud. It’s a delicate dance, this back-and-forth between propriety and affection, a dance you’ve grown far too familiar with.

“You speak of home,” you reply softly, allowing the faintest of smiles to curve your lips, “but I wonder… can such a place be found within these walls?” You meet his gaze, searching his eyes for an answer he cannot give outright.

He holds your gaze, the sunlight catching the dark strands in his hair, and for a heartbeat, it feels as though the world narrows to just the two of you. But even here, in the relative seclusion of the gardens, you both know better than to let such moments linger too long.

Arthur’s expression shifts, returning to the disciplined mask of a knight sworn to serve. “Home is not always a place, my lady,” he says, with a hint of something deeper beneath the words. “It is where we find those who understand us, who see us for who we truly are.”

You swallow, your pulse quickening. For a moment, you wish you could strip away all pretense, speak freely, and tell him what you truly feel. But such wishes are dangerous. Instead, you look away, focusing on the roses lining the path, their petals a vibrant red, like spilled blood.

“We must be careful, Arthur,” you say at last, your voice barely above a whisper. “The more we understand one another, the more dangerous it becomes.”

He nods, a subtle acknowledgement that you both tread a perilous line. “I will always protect you, Y/N,” he says, his tone so low that it is almost lost beneath the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. “Even if it is from dangers neither of us can see.”

The sound of distant footsteps snaps the moment back to the harsh reality of your lives. A servant rounds the corner, head bowed, but you know better than to believe you’ve gone unnoticed. Eyes are always watching, ears always listening. The game of shadows never ends.

“Come,” Arthur says, his voice now cool and formal again. “We should return before your father sends for you.”

You nod, but as you walk back toward the keep, you steal one more glance at him from the corner of your eye. He remains steadfast, a silent guardian, and yet, in that brief look, you know the truth: you are not alone in this twisted web of power and duty. In a world where trust is a luxury, you have found it in the one man who should be least able to give it.

The sun has dipped below the horizon, casting shadows through the torch-lit corridors of the Red Keep. The air cools with the onset of evening as you walk in silence beside Ser Arthur, each footstep a measured echo in the darkened hall. The weight of the day, of the court’s endless politics and the careful masks you must wear, presses down on you, but beside him, there is a comfort in the silence. It is an unspoken understanding, the kind that has grown between the two of you over time. Your heart aches with the tension of things left unsaid, desires left unrealized, but this is the life you’ve been given—duty, restraint, sacrifice.

You reach your chambers at last. The door, carved with intricate dragon motifs, looms before you, signaling another night alone, locked away as though you were a fragile thing in need of constant guarding. Arthur moves ahead to open the door, his hand brushing against the wood before he pauses, turning back to you. The look you exchange in that moment says more than words ever could. His eyes, that soft lilac-gray, are filled with a longing so deep that it nearly undoes you. You catch your breath, torn between the duty you know he must uphold and the yearning that flares every time you see him.

“Goodnight, Ser Arthur,” you say quietly, your voice betraying a tremor of emotion despite your best efforts.

“Goodnight, my lady,” he replies, the words careful, yet heavy with something unsaid. His eyes linger on yours, as if he is memorizing the moment, a stolen fragment of time he can carry with him through the dark hours of the night.

Reluctantly, you step inside, closing the door with a soft click. On the other side, Arthur remains, taking his place as your silent sentinel, guarding the one person he cannot bear to lose.

Arthur stands there, unmoving, his hand still resting on the hilt of Dawn as he watches over the door. The corridor is empty, save for him, yet he knows better than to relax. The Red Keep is never truly quiet. Whispers travel faster than ravens, and secrets are carried by the very walls. Yet, as the minutes stretch into hours, it is not the shadows that gnaw at him—it is the battle raging within his own heart.

How long has he been fighting this? The pull he feels toward you, the forbidden warmth that rises in his chest whenever you so much as glance his way? As a knight of the Kingsguard, his vows are clear: to protect, to serve, to remain untainted by the desires of the flesh. But those vows are meant for ordinary service, for loyalty to the crown, not for resisting the affection that has grown between you. Not for denying a feeling that has grown stronger with every quiet conversation, every fleeting look.

Arthur draws in a deep breath, trying to quell the storm within him. He recalls the words he was told as a young knight: Duty above all else. He has lived by that creed, upheld it in every way, yet here he is, torn by feelings that are as dangerous as they are undeniable. You are more than just a royal charge to him; you are a woman with whom he has shared moments of unguarded truth, glimpses of a bond neither of you can fully express. And it is agony.

His thoughts betray him, wandering to what might have been if he were not bound by duty. If he could cross that threshold, take your hand, and offer something more than just the cold protection of a sword. In those rare moments when the world seems to fall away and it’s just the two of you, he wonders—could there ever be a place for them, a world where duty does not shackle his heart?

But these are dangerous thoughts, traitorous even. A man in his position cannot afford such indulgences, not when a single misstep could destroy everything. And yet… he cannot help but wish.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulls him from his thoughts. Ser Barristan Selmy, clad in the white cloak of their shared brotherhood, strides down the corridor with the ease of a man who has seen the passage of many years and many battles. His expression is unreadable, but there is a knowing gleam in his eyes as he comes to stand beside Arthur.

“Ser Arthur,” Barristan greets with a nod, his voice low and gruff.

“Ser Barristan,” Arthur replies, nodding back.

For a moment, neither man speaks. The silence stretches, thick with unsaid words, until Barristan breaks it, his gaze shifting to the door you just passed through. “She’s been locked away more often lately,” Barristan comments, almost absently, though Arthur can hear the edge of concern in his voice. “It’s a cruel thing to keep a young woman caged like that.”

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “It is for her protection. You know as well as I do that her father’s mind is… unstable. She is safer in there than at court.”

Barristan grunts in acknowledgment, but his eyes remain on Arthur, assessing. “Perhaps. But protection comes in many forms, doesn’t it? Sometimes, what we think is shielding someone can be its own kind of harm.”

Arthur turns to look at him, something shifting in the air between them. “What are you saying, Ser Barristan?”

“She cares for you,” Barristan says, his voice lowering, almost a whisper in the stillness of the corridor. “Anyone with eyes can see it. Even Rhaegar knows, though he does nothing about it. Perhaps he understands more than we give him credit for.”

Arthur’s heart hammers in his chest, but he forces himself to remain composed. “It is not my place to speak on such matters,” he replies, his voice tight with the effort to maintain control.

“No,” Barristan agrees, “it isn’t. But there are times when duty and honor are not the only things worth considering.”

Arthur turns to look at the older knight, caught off guard by the unexpected words. “What are you suggesting, Ser?”

For a moment, Barristan is silent, his gaze distant as though lost in memories of his own. Then he fixes his eyes on Arthur, a sharp gleam in them. “Go in to her,” he says, each word deliberate.

Arthur stiffens. “I cannot.”

“You can,” Barristan says, his voice firm. “And you should. I’ll stand guard.” He steps closer, his tone softening as if offering Arthur a lifeline. “I’ve fought beside you, watched you for years. You are the finest knight I’ve known, but even the finest deserve something for themselves. Go to her, if only for tonight.”

Arthur opens his mouth to protest, but the words die on his lips. The longing he’s kept buried surges to the surface, nearly overwhelming him. Barristan’s words cut through the chains of duty that have held him in place, offering a glimpse of a path he’s denied himself for so long.

“Do not hesitate, Arthur,” Barristan says, his tone almost fatherly now. “She is alone, and there is no telling how long she will be safe in this place. Give her what comfort you can.”

Arthur’s breath catches, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his desires. He knows what it will mean if he steps through that door, the line he’ll cross, the oaths he’ll bend. But in this moment, with Barristan’s silent permission, he feels a rare clarity.

“I’ll stand guard,” Barristan repeats, a final push.

Arthur nods slowly, his decision made. He turns toward the door, his hand hovering over the handle. There is no hesitation this time, no second thoughts. The pull is too strong, the ache too deep.

With one last look at Barristan—who merely inclines his head in a gesture of understanding—Arthur opens the door and steps inside.

And as the door closes behind him, sealing the two of you away from the world outside, all pretense of restraint falls away.

The door clicks shut behind Ser Arthur as he steps into your chambers, the soft sound echoing in the silence. For a moment, neither of you speak. The tension hangs in the air, heavy and electric, the culmination of all the glances, all the stolen moments, all the words left unsaid. You turn to face him, your heart pounding, your breath caught somewhere between anticipation and fear.

Arthur’s eyes meet yours, filled with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He takes a single step forward, his expression torn between his unwavering sense of duty and the undeniable pull toward you. “We don’t have much time,” he murmurs, his voice hushed. “Ser Barristan is standing guard, but even that might rouse suspicion if anyone notices.”

The words are practical, laced with urgency, yet you can hear the longing beneath them—the way his resolve wavers just at the sight of you. Slowly, you approach him, your movements deliberate, as if savoring every second that this forbidden moment allows. You reach up and gently place your hand on his cheek, the roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips grounding you in this reality. It’s a tender touch, yet it speaks volumes—of trust, of yearning, of the unspoken bond that has grown between you.

Arthur closes his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch as though he’s starved for it. “I’ve fought this for so long,” he confesses, his voice low and filled with a vulnerability he rarely allows himself to show. “But I can’t fight it anymore, not when you’re right here before me.”

“There’s nothing to fight,” you whisper in return, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s just us, Arthur. Let it be just us tonight.”

He opens his eyes, and in them, you see the struggle slip away, replaced by something far more powerful—desire, affection, and a need that can no longer be contained. The distance between you closes as his hand reaches up to cover yours, pressing it more firmly against his cheek, his gaze never leaving yours.

Without another word, he dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss, the contact sending a rush of heat through your entire body. It’s soft at first, tentative, as though he’s afraid of breaking the fragile moment. But as you respond, leaning into him, the kiss deepens, filled with all the pent-up longing you’ve both kept hidden for so long. There’s a sense of inevitability to it, as though everything has been leading to this very moment.

Arthur pulls you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist, and you lose yourself in the taste of him—the warmth, the tenderness that gives way to something fiercer, more urgent. The shackles of duty, of propriety, fall away with every breathless kiss, every brush of his lips against yours. You feel the way his resolve crumbles completely, giving in to the desire you’ve both tried so hard to deny.

Your fingers move to the clasps of his cloak, undoing them with trembling hands, and he mirrors your movements, his touch reverent as he loosens the laces of your gown. There is no haste, no rush, just a careful savoring of each step, as though this moment is too precious to hurry. His gaze never leaves yours, even as he helps you slide out of your garments, the fabric pooling at your feet. His eyes hold a mix of awe and devotion, as though he’s committing every detail to memory.

When at last you stand before him, bared to one another in every sense, the air between you crackles with an unspoken intensity. He leans in to kiss you again, and this time, it’s different—slower, deeper, filled with a longing that borders on desperation. His hands roam over your skin, gentle but with a hunger that betrays the careful restraint he’s clung to all this time.

You guide him toward the bed, your steps slow and deliberate as if savoring every heartbeat that passes. He follows, his gaze locked on yours, his breath uneven. When you reach the bed, he pauses, a moment of hesitation in his eyes as he considers the weight of what you’re both about to do.

“Are you certain?” he asks, his voice hoarse, laced with concern. “I don’t want to rush you, to take something from you that can never be undone.”

You shake your head, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you pull him closer. “There’s nothing to take,” you reply, your voice firm with resolve. “I want this, Arthur. I want you. We’ve waited long enough.”

His eyes darken with emotion as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “Then I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he promises, though you can see the struggle within him—the battle between the desire to cherish you and the need to finally give in to what he’s denied himself for so long.

He lowers you onto the bed with a care that makes your heart ache, his hands steady as they explore every curve of your body, learning, memorizing. His touch is soft at first, as though mindful of your innocence, but you can see the restraint it takes for him to hold back.

But you don’t want restraint—you want to feel all of him, every part of him that’s been hidden behind layers of armor and duty. You urge him on, your hands running down his back, pulling him closer, until there’s nothing left between you but skin and breath and the shared heat of your desire.

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper, your voice laced with urgency. “I don’t want to waste this moment away, Arthur. Not when we don’t know how long we have.”

That’s all it takes for his control to finally snap. The tenderness gives way to something more primal, the repressed desire that has simmered beneath the surface for far too long. He kisses you with a fervor that leaves you breathless, his lips trailing down your neck, your shoulders, igniting every inch of skin he touches. The world outside ceases to exist—there’s only the two of you, the night wrapping around you like a cloak, hiding you away from prying eyes.

When he finally joins you, the connection is nothing short of profound—a culmination of all the longing, the stolen glances, the silent promises. He moves slowly at first, every motion careful, measured, as though determined to savor every second. But the intensity between you builds quickly, and the tenderness is soon overtaken by the passion that neither of you can hold back any longer.

Your hands grip his shoulders, your bodies moving in perfect sync, lost in the rhythm of your shared desire. The quiet gasps and whispered names fill the air, mixing with the scent of sweat and skin, creating a heady blend of sensations. Arthur’s restraint slips further as he gives in to the raw need you both feel, his movements becoming more urgent, driven by the fear that this moment could slip away too soon.

There’s a desperation in the way he holds you, as though he’s trying to make up for all the time lost, all the years spent denying himself what he truly wanted. The pleasure builds between you, cresting like a wave ready to break, and when it does, it’s a shattering release, a culmination of everything held back for so long.

In the aftermath, you lie tangled together, breathless and sated, your hearts pounding in time with one another. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the feel of his warmth against your skin. He traces his fingers down your arm, a touch so gentle it feels like a whisper.

“I would stay with you forever, if the world allowed it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You press a kiss to his chest, closing your eyes as you savor the feel of him beside you. “We’ll hold on to this, for as long as we can,” you reply softly. “No matter what happens after tonight, this will be ours. No one can take it from us.”

The night stretches on, but the weight of reality begins to creep back in. You know this can’t last, that dawn will bring with it all the complications of duty, honor, and the dangers that linger beyond these walls. But for now, wrapped in Arthur’s arms, you allow yourself to forget all of that and simply live in this moment—this rare, fleeting moment of stolen bliss.

Outside the door, the world continues its relentless march forward, but in here, time has stopped.

The door closes with a soft click as Arthur steps out into the dimly lit corridor, leaving the warmth of your chambers behind. The cool air of the Red Keep wraps around him like a shroud, dragging him back into the reality he’d forgotten, if only for a few stolen hours. His breathing is still unsteady, his mind caught between the echo of your touch and the ironclad duty that now presses against him like a vice. 

Ser Barristan Selmy stands just a few paces away, as stoic as ever, his white cloak still and pristine in the faint torchlight. The older knight’s eyes flicker briefly to Arthur, assessing, but there’s no judgment there—only understanding, a silent acknowledgment of what has passed.

“You’ve stayed longer than I expected,” Barristan says quietly, his voice carrying no hint of reproach, only a simple statement of fact. He steps closer, his expression a mix of resolve and sympathy. “I hope it was worth the risks.”

Arthur swallows, finding it difficult to summon words after everything that has transpired. The remnants of emotion still cling to him—longing, guilt, the ache of knowing that he must return to the rigid lines of his duty. “It was,” he replies, his voice rough with a mixture of exhaustion and conviction. “But it doesn’t change what we are sworn to do.”

“No,” Barristan agrees, his gaze steady. “It doesn’t. We are bound to our oaths, but that doesn’t mean we must be devoid of humanity.” He pauses, a slight softening in his expression. “What you did tonight, Arthur, was not an act of betrayal. It was an act of compassion—a rare thing in this place.”

Arthur nods, grateful for the older knight’s understanding. “Still, I fear what may come of it. The Spider watches from the shadows, and the King’s paranoia is ever-growing. If word of this reached his ears—”

“It won’t,” Barristan interrupts firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’ll see to that. We both know the risks, but we also know what she means to you—and what you mean to her.”

There’s a pause, heavy with the weight of shared knowledge. Arthur knows that Barristan isn’t just speaking as a fellow knight, but as a man who’s seen too many lives ruined by the cruel machinations of the court. Perhaps that’s why Barristan gave him this brief window of time—to allow him something that might never be allowed again.

“I’ll take over here,” Barristan continues, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ve done enough for one night. I’ll ensure she’s safe.”

Arthur opens his mouth to argue, to insist on staying by your door as he always has, but Barristan cuts him off with a raised hand. “You need rest, Ser Arthur. You’ve carried more than your share of burdens. Go now, before the dawn comes. Clear your mind.”

For a moment, Arthur hesitates, torn between the instinct to stay near you and the reality that his own inner turmoil needs time to settle. Barristan’s gaze is firm, the kind that speaks of years of wisdom and experience. In it, Arthur sees a quiet reassurance—the knowledge that your safety, for this night at least, is in trusted hands.

Finally, Arthur nods, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you, Ser Barristan,” he says, the words laced with genuine gratitude. “For understanding.”

Barristan inclines his head. “Go on now. I’ll see you at first light.”

Arthur takes one last look at the door that separates him from you, as though he’s memorizing every detail, before turning away and walking down the dim corridor. Each step feels heavier, dragging him back into the rigid role he must play—knight, protector, but no more than that. And yet, beneath the weight of his duty, there’s a quiet resolve growing within him, stronger now than ever.

As he moves farther away from your chambers, he whispers to himself words he cannot say aloud, promises he dares not utter in the open air: I will protect you, no matter what it costs me. I won’t let this night be the last of us.

When Arthur is finally out of sight, Barristan remains by the door, his expression hardening into a steely mask. He knows what must be done, knows that tonight’s brief lapse in duty was a risk, but he also knows that for people like you and Arthur, such moments are the only refuge you’ll ever find. In this pit of vipers, compassion is a rare weapon.

Barristan draws his sword just enough to feel its reassuring weight before sliding it back into its sheath. He positions himself firmly by the door, his posture unyielding.

Anyone who might come near—whether servant, spy, or shadow—would find no easy entrance tonight. He would see to that.

The night stretches on, and as the first tendrils of dawn begin to creep through the narrow windows of the Red Keep, Barristan’s resolve solidifies. Whatever trials lie ahead, whatever darkness waits in the days to come, he knows one thing with certainty: he will stand guard here, not just out of duty, but out of a fierce determination to protect something fragile and rare in this world—a connection forged not in power or ambition, but in something far deeper.

For now, the corridors are quiet, and the weight of the world rests on Barristan’s shoulders alone. As the morning light begins to cast long shadows down the hall, he remains vigilant, his eyes sharp and his stance unwavering. There are few allies in this place, but for tonight, there is one more who stands between you and the dangers lurking just beyond the door.

The great hall is awash in flickering candlelight as servants move briskly between tables, offering plates of roasted meats, spiced wine, and fruits glazed with honey. The scent of rich foods mingles with the dampness of stone, a constant reminder of the Red Keep’s shadowed, ancient halls. King Aerys II sits at the head of the table, his gaunt figure draped in extravagant robes, the crown of sharp, twisting steel glinting on his brow. Beside him, Rhaegar sits with a composed air, the prince’s expression calm despite the underlying tension that hums in the room.

Standing behind them, silent and vigilant, are Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Gerold Hightower, their white cloaks stark against the gloom. The Sword of the Morning keeps his gaze trained forward, a mask of cool resolve firmly in place. But beneath that practiced exterior, unease coils in his gut. He knows better than to trust the rare moments when Aerys seems almost lucid, for they are often the prelude to something far darker.

Dinner passes in relative silence at first, save for the clinking of cutlery and the occasional murmured words between lords seated at the distant ends of the table. Aerys, however, remains fixated on his son, his eyes glittering with a manic edge. The King has grown more erratic in recent years, the grip of paranoia tightening its claws around his mind, but tonight there is a sharpness to him—a deliberate cruelty that seeps into the air like poison.

“My dear Rhaegar,” Aerys croons, his voice dripping with false affection as he dabs at the corners of his mouth with a silk cloth. “You’ve always been the good son, haven’t you? Always so… composed. Yet, I wonder, do you keep such composure even in matters of the heart?”

Rhaegar meets his father’s gaze with the practiced calm of someone who has weathered countless unpredictable storms. “I seek to serve the realm, Father, in all things,” he replies evenly, though Arthur notices the subtle tightening of the prince’s grip on his goblet.

Aerys chuckles, a sound like rusted metal scraping against stone. “Yes, yes, always the realm. But what of family, hmm? What of your sister?” His voice drops, taking on a conspiratorial tone, though it carries across the hall with chilling clarity. “Y/N, so delicate, so precious. A jewel I keep locked away from prying eyes.”

Arthur’s heart skips a beat, but he forces his expression to remain impassive, even as a chill runs down his spine. Aerys’ words are laced with something vile, a twisted obsession that’s grown more apparent with time. He knows the King’s madness festers around those he believes are his to control, and his daughter has become a particular fixation.

Rhaegar’s eyes darken, though he keeps his tone polite. “My sister is as devoted to our family as I am, Your Grace. Her loyalty is unquestionable.”

Aerys sneers, his smile twisting into something ugly. “Loyalty? Oh, I do not doubt her loyalty. She knows her place, after all. But I wonder, Rhaegar, is that enough for you? Is her… loyalty enough to bind her to our House as tightly as it should be?”

The prince doesn’t flinch, but the tension in his posture speaks volumes. “What are you suggesting, Father?”

Aerys leans back in his chair, tapping a finger against the armrest as if considering some hidden amusement. “She is of age now, and a Targaryen of purest blood. Shouldn’t her future be ensured with the right match? Someone who understands our bloodline, our legacy—someone who can keep her in line, if need be.”

Arthur’s fingers tighten around the hilt of Dawn, his knuckles whitening beneath his gloves. He can feel the weight of Ser Gerold’s gaze on him, a subtle warning that he cannot allow himself to react. It takes every ounce of discipline to remain composed, to bury the surge of anger and fear that rises within him. He knows too well what the King might consider as a “suitable match”—someone who would reduce you to a tool, a possession to be used and controlled.

Ser Gerold shifts slightly beside him, catching Arthur’s eye. His expression is stern, a silent command that needs no words: Hold your composure. Do not betray yourself.

Rhaegar’s voice cuts through the tension, cold and measured. “You speak of her future, Father, yet she has always served our family well. Surely her well-being should come before any considerations of… arrangement.”

Aerys’ laughter is sharp and sudden, making several of the lords at the table flinch. “Well-being? She is a Targaryen, Rhaegar. Well-being is a luxury we cannot afford! The blood of dragons flows in her veins, and it must be preserved—strengthened. Perhaps a union is exactly what she needs, to remind her of her place. Don’t you agree?”

Arthur’s heart thunders in his chest, but he dares not move, not even as his grip on his sword hilt threatens to snap the leather beneath his hand. Ser Gerold’s warning glance sharpens, and with great effort, Arthur forces himself to relax his hold, exhaling slowly to regain control.

Rhaegar’s expression remains unreadable, but his voice carries an edge when he speaks. “You are right, Father. The blood of dragons must be preserved. But that decision should be made with care, not haste. Y/N is a valuable asset to our House, and any match must serve our family’s interests above all else.”

Aerys stares at Rhaegar for a long, tense moment, as if searching for some hidden defiance. But when he speaks again, his voice is a dangerous whisper. “You would do well to remember that I am the one who decides what is best for this family. Your sister’s fate is mine to command, just as yours is. Do not think to challenge me on this, my son.”

Rhaegar lowers his gaze, an acknowledgment of the dangerous ground they tread. “Of course, Your Grace. I would never dream of questioning your judgment.”

The King watches him for a moment longer before a twisted smile spreads across his face. “Good. Very good.” He turns his attention back to the food before him, the conversation seemingly forgotten, but the tension remains thick in the air.

Arthur feels Ser Gerold’s subtle nudge—a reminder to stay focused, to not let his emotions betray him. He nods slightly, regaining his calm exterior, but inside, a fire burns, threatening to consume him. The thought of Aerys dictating your fate, of you being handed over to some vile lord who would see you as nothing more than a tool, fills him with a rage he’s never known. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to keep you from the clutches of a madman’s whims, but he knows how precarious his position is. One misstep could ruin everything.

As the dinner drags on, Ser Gerold shoots him one last, pointed look—a reminder that their duty is to the King, no matter the horrors they must witness or endure. Arthur clenches his jaw, burying his emotions deep within. He has no choice but to play his role, even as the weight of it threatens to break him.

But one thing is certain: the king’s words have only steeled his resolve. Whatever it takes, he will protect you—from Aerys, from the court, from anyone who dares to harm you. Even if it means risking everything he holds dear.

As the dinner finally draws to a close, Arthur and Ser Gerold move to escort the King back to his chambers, their white cloaks trailing behind them. The hall falls silent, but the echoes of Aerys’ twisted words linger in Arthur’s mind, a grim reminder of the battle yet to come.

And as he steps into the shadows once more, Arthur vows silently to himself: No one will decide her fate but her.

[phas3d]

Ideal Type || Slytherin Boys

note :: just what i think, but they could honestly be with anyone

members :: mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

Mattheo Riddle

Appearance:

Sharp eyes that could kill him, eye color doesn’t matter to him

Likes people with more meat on them

Goes crazy if he sees you wearing thigh highs or tight underwear so that you have a little bit of a muffin top, he loves that stuff

Loves dark hair, all of his celebrity crushes are brunettes or have black hair

Likes the y2k style and clean girl, he doesn’t know it’s called that but he likes it lmao

Loves long hair but will make an exception for a short black bob

Low rise jeans are his favorite thing ever

Pretty nails are also a pro in his eyes, shows that you’re hygienic - likes longer nails

Plump lips are a major plus

Likes outfits that show skin in some way, so crop tops, dresses, etc

Personality:

Slightly toxic, which is perfect for him since he’s ultra toxic 😍

He’s not willing to change his lifestyle just for a girl, so he needs someone who’s down to party and do the bad stuff he does

Loves confidence, wouldn’t date a girl who’s insecure

People with the wonyongism mindset are literally his dream type, makes him weak in the knees

If you yell back at him or call him out on his shit, oml he’s already planning your wedding

Loves to annoy you just to get a reaction, smth about you being angry draws him in

He likes social people who get along with others easily

A little bit cocky, but if you laugh at his jokes he instantly finds you more attractive

Dedicated and driven people, like not failing classes, having internships, having a job, all of that is so attractive to him

If you listen to: Kali Uchis, Tyler the Creator, Ariana Grande, Travis Scott, The Neighborhood, The Smiths, The Weeknd, BlackPink, Aespa, Beyoncé, you get so many extra points

Theodore Nott

Appearance:

Likes shorter people, which is easy for him since he’s 6’0 (183 cm)

Has a thing for people that are flatter, likes rectangle body types

Long hair is his ideal type but loves curly short hairstyles

Gets flustered when he sees you with your hair up, something about it is so appealing to him

Long lashes and falsies are so pretty in his eyes, loves it

Ballet-core, old-money, and minimalist are what styles he likes best on someone

Lovessss skirts and headbands

Likes people with glasses, but specifically people who wear contacts in public but glasses at home

People with the resting sad face are so beautiful to him

Personality:

Likes introverts or shy people, he likes knowing that you’re a homebody so he doesn’t have to worry about cheating

Nerds omg They’re his secret weakness

He loves book smart-street dumb people, it’s a sense of comfort knowing that you’re not involved in his life style

He’s a fuckboy who smokes and drinks, so you become a safe space for him

Quiet and soft voices are one of his biggest weaknesses

Elegance is also something he needs in a partner, someone who’s aware of their words and their actions

When someone covers their mouth when they laugh - So attractive to him

Caring and nurturing people make him want to cry, please comfort this man

If you listen to: Lana Del Rey, Billie Eilish, Mitski, SZA, Her, Adele, Yerin Baek, Matt Maltese, Radiohead, you get an extra point

Lorenzo Berkshire

Appearance:

Downtown girl, athletic wear, coquette, and other cutesy yet comfortable styles are his idea type

Really loves when someone can dress up in a nice ass outfit and then show up the next day in just a hoodie and bagggyyyy pants

Doesn’t really like tight clothes on his s/o, likes baggy or flowy clothes

Doesn’t care for body type, has dated people on the bigger size and people that were super thin

Loves any facial markings - moles, acne scars, freckles, but esp ance scars

Loves curly and wavy hair, doesn’t care for hair color but does prefer light colors like brown and blonde

Likes girls that look kinda intimidating because of how pretty they are, but are secretly a softie (basically him)

For example, people with a resting bitch face but the second they see something cute they light up

Being shorter than him is fine, but if he’s dead honest he’s always wanted to date a girl taller than him (185 cm+)

Personality:

Bubbly people make him fall so hard

People who are happy almost 24/7 and a little bit stupid and naive is what he loves

Doesn’t care about intelligence much, but doesn’t like people who are failing school

When you’re oblivious to flirting??? Omg he’s done

Wants to feel needed, so you being slightly air headed helps him a lot

Smiling makes him attracted to someone instantly, so constantly smiling and laughing makes him feel the same way

Loves people with a tad bit of sass to them, like eye rolls and stuff

Playful people who agree to do dumb shit with him suits his ideal lifestyle

Someone’s who funny, cause if I’m fr this man is not that funny. He def gets with someone who’s funny

He def had way too many crushes on manic pixie dream girls, so he kinda likes the chase

Likes people who are so free spirited that it’s hard to tie to them

If you listen to: Wave2Earth, Kpop, Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Beabadoobee, Sarah Kinsley, Faye Webster, it’s an extra plus for him

[codenamesazanka]

AFO+Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko Role Reversal AU

*

Terrorist Shimura Tenko, age 26, has been sentenced to death for his heinous crimes. Morning before he goes though, he's carted over to Central Hospital.

Little AFO, age 12, is brought before Shimura to give him five quirks - this will surely overload Shimura’s brain, but since he's about to be executed anyways, it doesn't really matter.

But right before the procedure starts, Central Hospital is attacked. It's the League of Villains, here to rescue their boss. As he marbles Shimura, Mr. Compress also ends up marbling AFO and taking him along.

Hours later, in a secret hideout, the League congrats themselves on a successful rescue mission, but wonders what to do about this weird kid they've kidnapped. They’ll have to act quick - Heroes and HPSC will come for them soon. The HPSC have to come for the kidnapped kid, because, the moment the League realized who the kid is, they know AFO as the central piece of HPSC's new direction for society.

*

Four years ago, the government made a paradigm changing announcement - they've gained the ability to take away quirks and will start doing so as part of criminal justice.

This is a great thing, as it solves the century-old question about what to do with Villains. Really Bad Villains will have their quirks taken away, and put into regular security prison. Mild Villains can exchange their quirks for a shorter sentence. Dangerous quirks can now be eliminated. Human rights will be improved. Society will be safer.

—At least, it will be, once the chaos the announcement created settles down. Because the remnants of the Meta Liberation Army straight up revolted, along with other groups and other people.

The League of Villains did not start with this upheaval - they were already active two years before the announcement, led by Shimura Tenko, as just particularly notorious Villains doing whatever they wanted, whether it was heists or killing heroes or feuding with other villain groups - but they have become embroiled into the fight through a loose alliance with the MLA, and due to the HPSC holding members of the League up as the reason why the new law was enacted in the first place.

The HPSC have kept very, very top secret the exact method they’re using to take away quirks. No one knows for sure whether it was a drug or surgery or implant. There was a rumor that it was a quirk that was doing this, but it was just a rumor—until now.

Though, the League didn’t expect that it would be a kid. So what will they do with him now?

*

For all nearly all twelve years of his life, AFO (and his younger twin brother) has been in care of the HPSC. This is the first time he's ever been kidnapped, is in real danger, but he knows exactly what to do:

Nothing.

In all honesty, AFO would rather destroy this 'League of Villains' - just a bunch of insignificant insects running around causes messes and ruining everything (like his day!) - and just go home using his own power. He doesn’t like being away from Yoichi; he still has schoolwork to finish; the new chapter of Captain Hero: New Ultra is out Monday; he’s got his life to get back to.

But AFO has been relentlessly counseled and drilled by the HPSC for this exact scenario: He is NOT allowed to use his quirk. No matter what happens, he is only to wait for rescue.

Not that using his quirks might help much. AFO has never been taught to fight, and besides his own ‘Give-and-Take’ quirk, he’s got only five other low-tier quirks he had only taken this morning that he’s never used. The HPSC won’t risk letting him keep the quirks, see, so the system they’ve come up with is this: the quirks taken from criminals are transferred immediately to a Villain scheduled for execution. (Given the explosion in criminal activity and revolt over the past four years, death row has just the right and regular numbers to supply.) They’ve even got a machine just for him, just for tracking his quirk(s), invented by the famous American scientists David Shield and Toshinori Yagi, so they know exactly what he takes in and lets out.

When AFO has just his own original quirk, it’s as good as no quirk.

The HPSC has to do this, because AFO is a born villain. They know it; he knows it, everyone who’s ever met him knows it. It’s just hard to describe otherwise a child who came into this world stealing everything within reach: his mother’s life, his twin brother’s health, and every person’s quirk he ever had come into physical contact with even as an infant - the homeless woman who rescued the twins from a decaying corpse, the police who later found them while investigating a dead body that was registered in the system with a quirk but autopsy had revealed zero quirk factors left, the doctors that examined the twin babies.

AFO has heard this story many times. He’s got a too-strong quirk that’s made him clinically diagnosed kleptomaniac with a Cluster B personality disorder. Quirk counseling, behavioral counseling, regular counseling, art therapy... He’s been handled extremely delicately and thoroughly his entire life.

And that’s…fine. That’s how the world works. That’s the price of power. It’s better than being dead in the grave with the mom he killed, or out there in the chaos, if the HSPC had never found them. AFO’s on the side that’s calling the shots and set to dictate the final reality of a post-Advent world - he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. One day, he’ll grow up and he’ll become part of the HPSC and he’ll get his rightful piece of the cake - really, they’ve let him have some of it already, when he first started taking quirks away for them five years ago (first year was trial year, before they went public).

His itch to use his quirk is scratched regularly. He got to keep Yoichi, who had once almost been adopted away. Being on his best behavior means he gets most of what he asks for. The worst AFO can say is that he’s bored - which is expected, his brain is wired differently after all.

All he has to do is stay calm, play nice with the League, and wait for Heroes to arrive. Someone will come save him soon enough.

Everything is in order.

*

But of course, this encounter with Shimura and the League will be the catalyst that will destroy that very order.

(In one universe, AFO tells Tenko he'll teach him how to take his rage and give it purpose.

In this universe, Shimura tells little AFO he'll teach him how to find his rage.)

[nerdieforpedro]

The Brave, The Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore

Volume 2

Fanfics that I am currently reading or re-read because they’re that good!! 😊

This list is for those aged 18 and up, please respect the author's tags, warnings and notes as they are there for a reason.

Crawling Back to You Author: @prolix-yuy

(Dieter Bravo x female reader) There’s a secret that Hollywood has been keeping from us that explains so much. Found out I find horns sexy.

This Charming Man

Author: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

(Frankie Morales x OFC Camilla) No one said Frankie had to be good all the time. To be fair, he's had some major life events. He's unhinged but also sweet. He's got layers. Some of the layers are concerning. Make sure to check the warnings before reading. Dark fluff!

Dr. WeVibe; or How Dieter Bravo Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Remote Vibrator

Author: @imalrightllama (Dieter Bravo x female reader {established relationship}, Dieter Bravo x female reader x male soft Dom, Dieter Bravo x male soft Dom) This is smut. It has evolved into ultra smut and eventually reaches super ultra smut. There's also toy use. You have to read it to understand.

Opia Author: @artemiseamoon

(Ezra x black female reader) A woman's journey for a payday leads her to meet Ezra under less than ideal circumstances. The bond they form is life-long.

Kinktober 2023 Author: @palioom

Thirty one days of October - thirty one different fics each with their own theme to sink your eyeballs into. Make sure to double check warnings.

going slow Author: @ezrasbirdie

(Javier Peña x female reader) An issue that no one really speaks about but can make sexual intimacy extremely difficult. Thankfully, Javier Peña is a sweetheart and willing to take it at the reader's pace.

anytime Author: @undercoverpena

(Javier Peña x female reader) Reader and Javier have been friends for years. Seen each other through the best and worst of times. Javier's mind is rattled and there always seems to be one thing or person rather that settles him.

I like the way you Author: @undercoverpena

(Frankie Morales x female reader) Reader is friends with Frankie. An offhand remark leads a becoming friends with benefits. What could go wrong? Feelings? No one agreed to that.

When the west was wild Author: @boliv-jenta

(Silva x OFC) Nine part story about a woman living alone in the west. An injured strange changes her life, for better, for worse? Read and find out.

Be all and Endor Jyr’ika Author: @djarins-cyare

(Din Darin x OFC) An epic love story told over 40 chapters. Use the bathroom, get a blanket and get comfy, there's reading to be done.

Darkness Author: @ezrasbirdie

(Ezra x female reader) We all know Ezra has explored many ways, things and positions. One that he has not explored is our reader. He's a bit scuzzy, but a gentleman - mostly. You gotta invite him in, give him the ok.

Moonlit Serenades Author: @geminimoonbeamx

(Poe Dameron x plus size female reader) Poe needs some comfort after a tough mission that only the reader can provide.

Headshots Author: @secretelephanttattoo

(Marcus Pike x OFC Ella) Turns out reader's new job as a photographer for the FBI changes her path in life forever. The job was temporary but the relationship was for life.

The Gift Author: @mandoisapunk

(Javier Peña x female reader) Sweet Javier Peña fluff. Reader's gift to Javi is life changing. I'm not crying, you are!

An American in Paris Author: @absurdthirst

(Ezra x female reader) If you ever wondered what Ezra would be doing in the late 1940's after WWII. Our man went to Paris where he meets the reader. This pic had me at Ezra in Paris and then held on to me tight and tossed my feelings around like a rag doll.

To hold you tonight Author: @iamasaddie

(Marcus Pike x female reader) Dark! Marcus has a very dark spin in this one shot. He also has a love a statues that extends to the reader. Please read the warnings before reading.

Full of colors. Author: @trulybetty

(Tim Rockford x female reader) Tim’s working a difficult case, you’ve got work piled on the table. Quality time is needed. A walk-in shower is a treat.

Dry Run Author: @chronically-ghosted

(Javier Peña x female reader) Anyone who may have questioned if dancing with THE Javier Peña in a club was sexy or not - your answer is here.

Tired Author: @javierpena-inatacvest

(Javier Peña x female reader) It’s date night for you and your husband Javier Peña. Everything that could have gone wrong, has. You are stressed out. Date night was not what you’d planned at all.

Diosa Hermosa Author: @fhatbhabie

(Javier Peña x plus size female reader) Javier finds the reader to be the sexiest vision he could see in the museum.

Preciously Plump Author: @melodygatesauthor

(Santiago Garcia x plus size female reader) Our reader is a bit self-conscious, Santiago has her get over that quickly.

Dirty Secrets Author: @absurdthirst

(Dave York x female reader) Your husband Dave is suspicious about your change in behavior. He endeavors to find out the reason why.

[sgiandubh]

I am not a shipper, just not what I see when I look at all I have seen over the years. However, I am truly appalled at the amount of Sam hate I see on so many Tumblr blogs. I don't understand why anyone would follow his career and map out every move he makes if they hate him so much. Their criticism of his acting is always the same, but I would bet none of them has ever done any acting or knows how actors train and prepare. It just makes me wonder what brought them here in the first place. I would never waste so much time and effort on an actor I don't like. Makes zero sense to me.

Also seems to me that everyone in this fandom has decided what they think/believe and cannot seem to have a normal discussion or disagreement at all. Believe what you want- I have no hate for anyone myself. I just come here for fun and to follow two actors I really like. I am sure Sam and Caitriona really never intended all this chaos when they took these roles.

Dear Not a Shipper Anon,

I hope you know, by the time I answer you, that you landed on an ultra shipper page and I also hope you can live with this detail. Barely joking, here - and yes, I decided to give you space and a short answer, because even if non shippers believe I am either a totally retarded, brainless idiot or (at a minimum) the devil incarnate, I am still open to different POVs than mine, as long as they are politely expressed.

If you do not 'see' them together, that is strictly your problem and loss. We, as a group, do not 'see' it either: we know they are together, have been so for a very long time, and still managed to make the relationship work, despite a long list of ehrm, oddities that would seem unacceptable to many. Among us, chances are we do not agree on everything, yet the essential is we all know they are not just co-stars, but so much more (lovers, partners, parents come to mind).

You are correct. I think it would be impossible for you to change my mind about it, as I have no intention of changing yours. We already entered Year Eleven of this saga and by now any dialogue between Antis and Shippers is completely impossible. Also, I am not very friendly towards 'shippers on the fence', who usually follow/share and comment also on the more prominent Anti blogs (BCAC, CRT, Moo, Purv). These people are usually blocked, because I simply can't with stupidity and lack of integrity rolled into one.

So yes, there is a lot of hate. Directed mostly towards S, because he is (and will always be) the main object of desire in this very feminine fandom. And make no mistake: all the women hating S desire him. Deeply. Impossibly. This and also simply being nasty people IRL - I can easily think of one or two legit Fascists, but will control my anger and refuse to name names. Last, but not least, I am going to tell you a secret, Anon: they are not very bright, either. Parochial fools, which I suggest you ignore.

I am sure S & C never knew what they were up to when they took this once in a lifetime opportunity. And I am also positively convinced they had no idea it would last for so long. I can only hope they have, by now, all the support they can use. For all the rest, they have each other.

The picture below has absolutely nothing to do with my answer to you, but I have promised @robinshill a picture I took in the Old City of Kashgar showing its savage destruction by the Chinese bulldozers. If that was the situation in June 2010, I can only imagine it now. Imagine and weep.

[norbezjones]

Inktober & OC-tober: October 2nd, 2024 (Romance The Backrooms)

Hey everyone!

So, this year, I have decided to participate in Inktober’s, well, Inktober event, and OC-tober, the latter specifically with @icannotreadcursive / @thepromptfoundry ‘s prompt list.  Basically, how it works is that I will do a drawing & a story adhering to the prompts.

For the first half of the month, I will be doing these for the characters of my story Romance The Backrooms, a liminal space otome with 5 main love interests.  For the second half of the month, I will be doing them for the characters of my IF Comp game Yancy At The End Of The World!, mainly to promote Yancy!’s Kickstarter, which launches at the beginning of November.

Today’s Prompts: Going out on the town & Discover

Characters: Carla

Other Info: This is Part 2 of what will be a series of stories dealing with Carla trying to come to terms with her grandmother’s death.  Please know that this is primarily what the story is about and treat accordingly.

Part 1: Tumblr link, Pillowfort link

_________

The town was a ten-minute walk away from the cottage.  Even though Carla knew that from her walk in the other day, it was still somewhat surprising to experience it.  One moment, she was isolated and surrounded by woods, and the next, she was back in civilization.

Or at least, if not civilization, a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.  Once she reached it, Carla was able to get data on her phone, and she looked up where food could be found nearby.  In the end, she settled on a diner called “Earl’s Eatery”.

“Hey there!  I haven’t seen you before.  Did you rent the cottage?” was how her waitress greeted her.

“Um, yeah,” Carla replied shyly.

The people who rent the cottage, they’re always creative types, looking for their muse in the woods.” the waitress told her, giving her a menu.  “You searching for your muse too, hun?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Carla said, an awkward laugh escaping her mouth.  She opened the menu, glancing at its contents.

“Ooo, intriguing!” the waitress said with a grin.  “What brings you here, then?”

Not wanting to make the mood awkward by sharing why she was truly at the cottage, Carla simply laughed and said, “It’s a secret, sorry!”

The waitress chuckled.  “I like you, hun.  You got a good spark in you.  Anyway, you want something to drink?”

“Yeah.  And I think I know what I want to eat, too” Carla told her.

And so, Carla soon had a large “Ultra Cheeze X-treme” omelet in front of her (she was pretty curious to try it once she saw it on the menu, and had to discover its flavor for herself), along with a side of hash browns and the smallest slices of buttered toast she had ever seen.  “Enjoy!  Let me know if you need anything,” the waitress said as she placed the plate on the table.  Then, she was gone.

Carla dug into her meal.  No longer distracted, her mind went back to her quest, the real reason she was here: figuring out her grief.

Would that even be possible within the timeframe she had?  Was two weeks enough to process such a terrible loss?  Just thinking about trying to take on that pain made Carla’s heart feel heavy, and she sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye.

I wish Grandma was here; she’d know what to say, Carla thought as she dug into her food.  But she’s not, and she never will be. . .

But what if she was here? her mind insisted.  What would she say?

Carla thought for a minute, chewing her food thoughtfully.  She’d say that even though she’s gone, she lived a good life, and gave what she could to the people she cared about, Carla realized.  And in a way, the things you give to others helps you live on.

Fuck that.  I’d trade that all way just to be with her again, her mind retorted.  Even for a minute.

Carla held in her tears and finished her food.  She paid the check, left a hefty tip, and left the diner.

[jeannefostergoriot]

Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez x Biana Vacker (from Nocturna principally)

« Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls, we’ll be a perfect family ». Biana knows. They are supposed to be perfect. To appear perfect. But she knows too. They are far from it. They never were. But now? Alvar’s betrayal? Her almost murdered? Fitz’ almost killing Alvar in Flashback? Yeah no.

« When you walk away is when we really play »: the real breathe? It almost was the one when she was exiled. She says very early in the series how she doesn’t like that everyone come to her as fame-diggers or as a way to approach her brother.

« You don’t hear me when I say »: perfect Lost Cities system doesn’t hear before there’s a major scandal.

« Mom, please wake up »: Mom, please, don’t trust Alvar and his memory loss. Didn’t trust him neither.

« Dad’s with a slut »: not a slut. But Alden has always been scheming and giving out secret missions and hiding things.

« And your son is smoking cannabis »: and Fitz is slowly approaching a breaking point. Biana probably knew what would happen if Alvar betrayed again. That Fitz would snap. And she didn’t hold him.

« No one ever listens »: Biana is quite literally invisible. And why would anyone believe the royal family isn’t perfect?

« This wallpaper glistens »: yeah. Everything glistens. Biana likes that but…

« Don’t let them see what goes down in the kitchen »: aka the war between the kids. The tininess of the links. The way she never gets to be close with her dad.

« Places, places, get in your places »: for what was supposed to be the beautiful light show of the century… and actually became a scandal.

« Throw on your dresses and put on your doll faces »: hiding the scars. Hiding the battles. Hiding they were gone.

« Everyone thinks that we’re perfect, please don’t let them look through the curtains ». At one point, Biana probably cared to save at least the appearances. If that was all that could be saved.

« Picture, picture, smile for the picture, pose with your brother, won’t you be a good sister? » post Flashback. Well, at the end rather. The moment where she, too, stops pressing buttons. No, she won’t pose for the picture, not with the traitor. He’s not her brother anymore.

« D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E »: the Vackers are dolls to the system, victims of their perfection.

« I see things that nobody else sees. » For Biana we can take that literally. She sneaks everywhere. She knows secrets.

« Hey, girl, look at my mom, she’s got it going on, ha you’re blinded by her jewelry »: Della, « the Neverseen », clearly done with being mistaken for fragile beauty princess. Very shiny though.

« When you turn your back, she pulls out a flask »: when you turn your back, Della is bullying the Councilor to get on missions. She goes ultra invested in everything she can.

« And forget his infidelity »: nah, Alden’s not cheating. Though. Della is in everything 200% cause there are secrets and she doesn’t like that.

« Uh-oh, she’s coming to the attic, plastic, go back to being plastic, plastic »: ooops people are watching. Go back try to be perfect. Back at school. Back with our friends. No words.

« One day, they’ll see what goes down in the kitchen »: they had a glimpse while the Everglen Scandal. Biana uncovered her scars. She wants to throw it.

[wheneverfeasible]

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was tagged by the ultra lovely @sleepy-steve so Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again…

My word was: WATER

These are all going to be from chapter 2 of “Bloody Hands, Broken Hearts” because I can’t stop thinking about this damn fic and this is all written from this morning.

W

When Steve looked at himself in the mirror, there wasn’t any sense of wrongness to it at all. He wasn’t a woman, that much was clear, but he didn’t mind the way he looked wearing his mother’s things, even if he had put it all on a little cartoonishly.

A

“Are you going to be okay, Vee?”

Steve glanced at the reflection of the woman standing behind him in the mirror, feeling her comfort a balm to soothe old aches he didn’t know he still had the capacity to hold. After everything else that had been done to him, the betrayal of childhood best friends still shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

T

Though he’d wobbled in them, Steve chased Carol and Tommy around his parents’ room in a pair of his mother’s more sensible heels, their combined laughter like a melody.

E

Except, after being manhandled to their shared room, no guard lingered on the inside. Their room had obviously been searched, but it wasn’t ransacked or overly molested like Porzio’s people might have done. The only real disappointment was the wine Fen had secreted away after stealing it from one of Porzio’s parties was missing, but even then there hadn’t been a punishment waiting for them for the thievery.

R

Rolling his eyes as the others laughed, Steve couldn’t keep his lips from quirking ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. He had told the girls everything—or almost everything—that had occurred during his time with Munson, much to Selena’s amusement, who had for some time called Porzio “Piggy” behind his back. He hadn’t told them that he knew Munson from his past, however, that they had gone to high school together even, but everything else had been fair game. Besides one other thing…

They didn’t know that, if Steve failed to please Munson that night, this might very well be the last time they saw each other.

I know I said I was going to stop doing these for a bit but I’m a liar.

Tagging hostage hotties as per uze: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

Other no pressure tags: @intermittentmania @eddiethebrave @hotluncheddie @419jhat @kikidoesfanfic

[cherryspikes]

You know you love me

‧₊˚ 📸 ✩ ₊˚ Multiple ships - EAH Gossip Girl AU

⭒ desc: After a rat infestation shuts down the school, students from Nottingham High get transferred to different schools all over New York. Sparrow and his friends ended up being part of the unlucky few who were sent to Ever After Prep. Being thrust into the world of the disgustingly rich felt like diving in head first into a pile of rocks. Tensions between the students were high enough, but after an anonymous blog starts spreading gossip it all rises to another level. Secret relationships, millions of dollars, and nosey teenagers were already a recipe for disaster. But it seems someone is trying to make every student's life a living hell.

⭒ content: this is a story with a full plotline!! you do not have to have seen Gossip Girl to understand but there are some references that are funnier if you have. mentions of drugs and alcohol. - THIS IS NOT A FULL RECREATION OF GOSSIP GIRL - its eah characters in a gg inspired universe with reimaginings of iconic gg plotlines.

⭒ wordcount: 3,171

cross-posted on ao3 !!

⭒ note: i'm currently working on cross-posting all the works I'm working on to this blog and i'm working on the second chapter of this so stay tuned!!

Chapter 2

Chapter 1: The Devil Wears Pointe Shoes

Once upon a time, in the far away land of Manhattan, New York. There was Ever After Prep, a school for the ultra rich kids of the highest of high society. Founded by Wilhem and Jacob Grimm in the 1700’s, the school is just as pretentious as you'd imagine it to be. 

The building has a castle-like structure, making it stand out against all the modern office buildings. A testament to its insistence on upholding traditional values and promoting what they believe is the best of the best. Which usually included relatives of the school's alumni, making it hard for anyone else to enter. 

The school's website is a showcase of pure gloating with pop ups of all their achievements everywhere. Sports trophies, sold out plays, they had a team for every single niche hobby. It was pretty much guaranteed that if there was a competition for it, they’d win it. 

The students are even more self-absorbed and cocky – not to mention, judgmental as hell. Manhattan’s elite love to boast about how great EAP is. Those who didn’t attend were very much looked down upon, no matter how much money you had. So it’s no surprise that parents and students rallied up when they found out their exclusive school would be hosting students from Nottingham High School for their second semester. 

Nottingham High has been EAP’s rival ever since it was created. A public school with great extracurriculars and professors that received basically the same education as the ones in EAP, started to sound a lot better to most parents in the city. So when some Nottingham students were transferred to EAP for the rest of the semester, students took it as a call to arms. 

Ever After students made their opinions on Nottingham very clear. They weren't like them, so they didn't belong. They branded them as outcasts and excluded them from student events. But even in a castle flooded with snobby, rich teens and only a couple exchange students from Nottingham, the small group stuck together and made the best out of their situation.

Sparrow Hood quickly made a name for himself. 

A punk guitarist with a loud personality easily challenged EAP’s atmosphere. He focused on having fun and broke a lot of rules. He was open about how he hated the megarich students and they hated him back because his band would crash events to get more exposure.

His main enemy? Apple White.

Apple basically ruled the school. Most if not everyone at the school saw her as an angel. She was at the top of her class, participated in several extracurriculars and had at least 1,000 hours of community service. But Sparrow didn’t fall for any of that crap. He saw through her act and knew that in reality she was just like everyone else. Immature, kind of selfish and without a clue of what they’re doing. The only reason she was seen as an angel was because she’s Snow White's daughter.

If people from Nottingham hated the rich, they hated Snow White even more. She was probably the worst governor New York ever had. All her rules made her rich friends richer while everyone else got their leftovers.

Sparrow hated them. He hated them and their Dior suits. He hated their fine china. He hated their long ass limos. But after the rumors that they were involved with their school's infestation spread, he hated them even more. He hated the hypocrisy of it all. They spoke about helping those in need while judging them for seeking refuge in their part of town. 

Apple represented all of that hypocrisy to him. She swore they didn’t have any problems. They didn’t hate each other, they just disagreed from time to time. But Sparrow knew that deep down she saw him as a threat. She represented everything the rich stood for and he was beginning to take her down. 

But she tried her best to ignore him. Deciding she had other things to worry about. 

“You guys wanna go to Beanstalk later?” Sparrow asked, while dumping his books on the table. 

Lunch time at EAP was insanely different. It was better that's for sure, but it was more expensive. Even with financial aid, paying nearly $20 for lunch everyday was insane. 

“Can’t, I got practice.” Hunter replied. “Already missed two this month, and Daring’s already looking at me weirdly.” 

“Please, I’ve literally never seen Hopper even pick up a bow.” Sparrow rolled his eyes. “If anyone needs to be kicked out it's him.” 

“Yeah, but Hopper’s daddy funds the Athletics program. It’d be a grave mistake to lose him.” Hunter said, mocking what he had overheard the coach saying once after practice.

As annoying as it was to have Daring and his lackey controlling their every move, Sparrow didn’t want Hunter to lose. He knew how passionate Hunter was about his sports and he didn’t want to ruin his chances of being in a good team. Even if that meant having to overcompensate while the rest did the bare minimum. 

“I can’t either.” Ramona chimed in. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?” 

“I’m sorry! I have to pick up Cerise, the train comes in at 4.” She defended herself. 

“Okay, I’ll just go with you and we can go to Beanstalk after!” Ramona immediately rejected the offer. “Are you crazy? I’m not taking Cerise to a bar.” 

Sparrow pouted. He knew better than to argue with Ramona. She always got the final word. Especially when it came to her sister. He laid his head on the table, bored out of his mind. He dreaded the rest of the day. He only had Music and English left, which were his favorite classes.  But none of his friends made it to his section yet, of course, Apple and her friends did. This day was going to be awful. He tried to take a nap in order to kill time and distract himself. But as if God wanted to personally punish him, there she was. 

He audibly groaned when he saw her blonde curls bounce into the room. She waited in line, typing something on her phone while her friends talked. They all wore the signature EAP uniform. Black skirt, white button up, red and yellow tie. They all accessorized their outfits to fit their style, but it seemed like every girl wanted to be Apple so they all just wore different variations of the same shoes and bags. Sparrow hated the uniform. The gold was too shiny and the red was too deep. His white button ups always ended up with food stains by the end of the day and the black blazer made him feel restricted. At least they could customize them. He already gave up some of his music, giving up his fashion was a different type of sacrifice. 

When they all first arrived, they got weird looks because of their style. Sparrow especially. He decorated his blazer with a ton of pins and wore his tie unknotted. He wore baggy jeans that caught your attention because of their green tint and whenever you saw him in class he was doodling on his combat boots.

Suddenly, everyones phone in the room started ringing. Sparrow’s face scrunched up in confusion. His phone didn’t ring. He turned to Ramona and read the message she got. 

  TO: Ramona Badwolf Hood

         (ramonabwh@nhs.edu)

  FROM: Apple White

            (applewhite@gmail.com)

  Subject: Welcome Party!

    Dearest EAP and Nottingham students, 

These past couple of weeks have been hectic, to say the least. But in order to relieve some of the stress and get to know each other a little more, I’ve decided to host a dinner party to kick off and welcome all new students joining us this semester. 

There will be free food, live music and tons of chatting! Let’s take this opportunity to relieve some stress and get to know each other! Hope to see you all there!

Friday, January 25th 7:00PM - 11:00PM 

Spellbound Ave. 

79th street PL87

7th Floor Room 705

When at the gate just say your name and the room number. 

        With Love, 

        Apple White <3. 

“Wow, okay. So she says there's no problem between us but she doesn’t invite me?” He straightened himself up.

“Well, it’s not like you even want to go so…” Hunter asked. “Yeah, but still!” 

Laughter interrupted their conversation. The sound, unsurprisingly, came from Daring and Apple’s group. Daring was standing on their table, acting out a scene till he fell. Causing their laughter. 

Hunter glared at him. “You know, I heard Kitty telling Maddie she thinks he caused the infestation.” 

“Who? Daring?” Hunter nodded. Ramona laughed. “I don’t believe that. He’s too dumb.” 

“I mean, causing a rat infestation at your rival school is a dumb thing to do.”

“Fair point.” She acknowledged. 

The bell rang. Sparrow groaned loudly. “God! I can’t handle the rest of the semester at this fucking school. I’m actually going to drop dead in the middle of chem.” 

Ramona awed at him while petting his back. “Chill out. It’ll be July before you know it. We can crash that dinner party if you want.”

Sparrow’s hopes got up and he responded a little too loudly. Loud enough for Daring and Apple to hear him and his friends laughing as everyone else left the cafeteria. Sparrow and Daring made brief eye contact as he glanced up. Sparrow winked at him and he rolled back his eyes. He walked away, Apple following him shortly.  ________________________________________

Ramona wandered the halls looking for the nearest bathroom. Even after 2 weeks of being in the school, its size still managed to confuse her. All the doors looked the same and the halls seemed to get more narrow every day. Having finally found it, she pushed the white door open. She put the hall pass down on top of the sink and stared at her hair in the mirror. She didn’t really have to go to the bathroom, she just needed an excuse to not listen to the teachers loud ass microphone anymore. 

She was deciding whether or not she should put her hair up when she noticed it. She noticed smoke coming from the disabled bathroom stall. It wasn’t fire smoke so she didn’t worry, but then she noticed the smell. Someone's smoking weed. 

She was going to leave the bathroom and let whoever was in there be, till she realized it was one of the rich kids. She could see her perfectly polished heeled mary janes from under the stall so now she was intrigued. She turned on the sink and pretended to wash her hands. She then walked to the door and opened it, but let it close without walking back. Then the stall opened. 

What a fucking surprise. Ramona had only been at the school for 2 weeks but never in a million years would she have guessed that Justine Dancer skipped class to get high. The ballerina didn’t notice her until she walked towards the sink. 

“Oh you have to be kidding me.” Her hands went to cover her face. A flush of embarrassment and worry rushed through her. This cannot be the way she gets caught. 

“How’s it going, Dancer?” Ramona stepped closer. She felt confident – cocky even. She finally knew how Daring felt whenever he caught Sparrow smoking near the bleachers. “Where’s your hall pass?” 

Justine turns towards her. Looking up to stare at her blankly. “What?” 

“Oh, yeah. Well there's this rule that you can’t walk around during classes without a hall pass. I thought you knew.” Ramona’s condescending words annoyed her. She was starting to get angry.

“Yeah, I know what the fucking rules are okay? Unlike you, some of us actually care about our future.” Ramona wasn’t having fun anymore. She struck a nerve, but unluckily for Justine, she doesn't back down very easily. 

“Well, you don’t really have to worry about that. Your mom’s just going to end up doing it all for you anyways.” 

“Well at least my parents actually amounted to something!” She immediately regretted her words. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t…” Justine hesitated. She realized what she had said and she hated herself for it. She didn’t mean any of it but she didn’t know how to apologize. She knew that having a bad day wasn’t an excuse but the Ramonas words paired with her failed audition that morning really made her want to explode. 

“Justine and Ramona! What is all this ruckus?” 

They both turned to see Madame Baba Yaga next to the door. Justine froze while Ramona stood her ground. 

“I caught her playing around with illegal substances.” Justine looked at the tall girl, mouth agape. 

“Ms. Dancer! Is this true?” 

Justine blinked and quickly looked down at her feet. She sheepishly nodded, not daring to look at her teacher. 

“Well, the very least I can say is that I’m disappointed in you. Headmaster Grimm and your parents will be hearing about this. You have detention after school. Both of you.”

“Both? What for?” Ramona complained. 

“For disrupting other classes and missing part of your own. Now get back to class!”

Madame Yaga stood near the door with her arms crossed till they both left the room. Once they did, they glared at each other before returning to their classes. 

“Fucking asshole.” Ramona muttered to herself. ________________________________________

The train station was loud and crowded like always. It didn’t really bother Sparrow though. He was used to it by now. Years of living in the city and going to punk shows made it so he barely noticed loud noises. If a bomb exploded in the city, he probably wouldn’t know until it hit him. He looked around the station, trying to find something he hadn’t seen before. Everything looked the same. Same green ceiling, same yellow lights and the same old ass clock in the center. Till he saw it.

A head of white and black hair that most, if not all teenagers, in New York could recognize. 

Duchess Swan was back in the city.

Duchess was known for being a total bitch. Even those who knew nothing about the Upper East Side had heard about her. She was seen as an out of control party girl that lived life like there was no tomorrow. There were countless rumors of her doing drugs, sleeping with celebrities, stealing from designer stores, etc. Yet somehow, no story was crazy enough to take her down. She came from a long line of old money so her professional opportunities never ceased. Even though people thought of her as a disaster waiting to happen, she still had tons of friends, she had a captivating aura. Her charismatic personality was comforting and her glamor was desirable. No one truly knew if the stories about her were true and the mystery made you want to know more. Her character in general was alluring and you could easily be charmed by her. 

Sparrow knew this from personal experience. He had fallen down the rabbit hole back in his sophomore year and after the spell wore off, his interest in the ultra rich lifestyle wore off too. However, it might’ve been coming back. Even though he was tired of his life revolving around the upper east siders, he wanted to know why she disappeared for almost a year. What made her comeback? He wouldn’t have been at the station if it weren’t for Ramonas surprise detention, what if this was a sign? He wanted to talk to her. Actually, nevermind. Why bother? She probably didn’t remember him. What if she did?  

He moved his arms around a bit, trying to calm himself from the million thoughts running through his head. He knew it was dangerous to deal with the devil, but life was getting a little bit boring. Maybe it was time to spice things up a bit. 

“Sparrow?” A voice asked behind him. He turned to see a familiar head of black hair covered up with a red hoodie. 

“Hello, little red riding hood!”  

“Shut up. I need to touch up my roots.” The girl rolled her eyes, holding the hood in place. Sparrow used to tease Cerise a lot when they would visit each other during the holidays, but now that they were going to live together it was going to be a lot worse. She was not looking forward to it. 

“So, where’s Ramona?” He tried to help her grab some of her bags, but he failed. The weight of the bags surprised him. He had forgotten how fit she was. She was all grown up. 

“Oh, I thought she told you. She got detention so she won't be out of school till 5:00.” 

Ramona's sister hummed, slightly disappointed. “Hey, wanna get a banana split from Hatter’s?” Sparrow comforted her and she excitedly replied with a yes. 

They caught up with each other while walking out of the station. Sparrow spoke about how unbearable it is to attend Ever After and Cerise told him about her recent competitions. As they laughed about how Ramona managed to get herself detention only 2 weeks into the semester, the bags Sparrow carried bumped into someone. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The girl said. Sparrow looked up and he gulped as soon as he realized who he was talking to. White and black hair, lavender streaks. 

“No, don’t worry – I was the one who bumped into you.” He helped her get the things she dropped and she just kept apologizing. Was this really Duchess or did she have a twin he didn’t know about? After the awkward exchange was over, he turned towards Cerise. A wide grin occupied her face. 

“What?” 

“Nothing…” she shook her head, still smiling.

“What?”

“I said nothing!” She laughed.  ________________________________________

e-blast #1: Welcome home!

2/8/07 - 5:30PM

Evening upper east siders, Gossip Girl here. Your one and only source to the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite. A lot of rumors have been spreading after the whole Nottingrat disaster and I was getting tired of having to explain the same things over and over again to those who don’t pay enough attention. So I thought, why not make something to document it all? However, as my name suggests, gossip about everything and everyone in the UES will be discussed here. So you all better start watching yourselves because if you think you’re safe, you aren’t! Don’t believe me? Well I have the biggest news ever. Spotted at Grand Central, bags in hand (kind of): Duchess Swan. That’s right, the queen is back! But who is this? Unfortunate Nottingham student, Sparrow Hood, seen head over combat boots over New York’s signature it girl. Poor Lonely Boy, longing for what he can’t have. If only she knew who he was. 

[ click to view foto ] 

Believe me now? Welcome home D! Hope you enjoyed your trip, can’t wait to hear all about it. 

                                                                                                                                            - XOXO, Gossip Girl

[sephirthoughts]

Weirdo/Villain/Wet Possum Character Ask Game

I made a character headcanon ask game of my own, because I like these a lot, but I wanted something for people whose blorbos are weirdos/ villains/ ridiculous edgelords/ wet possums/ enemy agents/ necromancers/ career criminals/ ancient demons/ yandere siblings/ sullen loners/ tentacle horrors/ /juvenile delinquents/ serial killers/ vampires/ cyborg war criminals/ people who like cilantro etc. 

Respond in the ask box with the number(s) and character you’d like headcanons for!

NOTE: Wherever I’ve used “you” in here, it’s the general sense, just referring to whoever they’re close to/into/shipped with/etc. 

NOTE 2: All questions are meant to be open-ended and the examples given are just prompts to get you thinking!

What ‘normal’ thing do they love, that no one would ever guess?

What seemingly innocuous thing do they absolutely hate?

If applicable, do they realize they’re one of the baddies? If so, how do they feel about it? Are they proud/indifferent/ashamed/amused/delusional/other?

Assuming they can consume human food/drink, what is their favorite?

What is their living space like? Austere and impersonal? Elegant? Ultra hip? Full of self expression or devoid of it? Super weirdly cheerful? Covered with pizza boxes and empty beer cans? A howling abyss which no mortal may enter unscathed?

What is their attachment style? I hate everyone but you? I eat everyone but you? I must possess your body and soul to the exclusion of all others? You’ll see me when I feel like it or need food (stray cat style)? I quietly watch you from the shadows? You’re one of my many toys? You’re the only thing that stops me from [certain behavior]? You’re the reason I [certain behavior]?

They got a cell phone (if they’re a tentacle horror or other nonhuman creature, just imagine it’s a magical communication device that they can use). How often do they make calls? Do they actually answer their phone? Do they text often? What kind of messages are they (lovey, silly, jealous, purely practical, cryptic)? Do they use emojis?

Do they enjoy the spotlight? Or would they rather go unnoticed? Or are they indifferent to such matters?

What super annoying little habits do they have?

Do they pet the dog?

Are they social? Popular? Relentlessly solitary?

How do they feel about family? Want one of their own? Hate the very idea? Would grudgingly accept one? Want a spouse and (number) children? Produce thousands of offspring and can’t be bothered to know their names?

Are they loyal to a specific person/organization/clan or family/ideology? Intentionally antagonistic to the idea of belonging to someone/something? Do they just not care about anyone/anything that much?

Do they have a nemesis/rival/someone who they absolutely despise? Who is that? Do they really despise them, or is it a love-hate thing? Do they have sexual tension with them?

Do they have some sentimental item that they care about deeply and would flip out if they lost? What is it?

[Person of interest] shows up at their door (or equivalent) late at night, covered in blood. What do they do? Do they let them in? Do they help? Do they take advantage of the situation?

How intelligent are they? Smarter than most people? Average? Kinda dumb? Possessed of the eternal and unknowable secrets of the universe, incomprehensible to mortal minds?

What diagnosable mental health issues/chronic conditions/disabilities do they have, if any? How does that affect them?

What’s their sexual orientation (in your headcanon)? Also, are they asexual? Hypersexual? Demi? Where do they fall on that spectrum?

How experienced are they with romantic/sexual stuff? Never touched another being in that way and it would never occur to them to do so? Awkward virgin? Monogamous but intense? Enthusiastic slut?

What’s their most toxic trait?

How do they feel about children? Indifferent? Annoying? Precious? Delicious? 

Do they have parents? Are they living? What is their relationship with them like?

They make [person of interest] dinner. What is it?

Do they remember anniversaries/traditional holidays/sentimental occasions? What is their favorite holiday, if they have one? How do they observe it?

Name five items that they always have with them (if any).

[beardedmrbean]

Same anon and about the Scarlett Johansson thing playing as the android. As someone who was able to get the first movie ultra 4k copy at a cheap price…yeah it made sense. The major of the first film had a European look vs her later incarnations. Also Johansson was black widow at the same time, and both characters have themes of having a facade while trying to maintain their humanity.

Sorry just like…anyone watch the og film? Not to mention in the GITS universe heavily cybernized people can get any body they want if they have the right connections and money.

Whoops sorry, been getting the blu rays of the tv series and such. So I know the lore.

Sorry autistic ranting, but black activists, people will enjoy African stuff. Just drop the fetishized version of Africa (hmm i was thinking about making a book called “The False Eden” on how black Americans was raised on Africa being a utopia before Europeans colonization ) properly researched African kingdoms and such.

I mean sure the whities my glamorized the Spartans and Romans…but at the end of the day most will acknowledge while those two don’t exist anymore.

Sorry

>Sorry autistic ranting,

That got a laugh, thank you I needed it.

I don't know enough about the comic/manga ect adaptations to know how the characters are "supposed" to look, except when it came to Ghost in the Shell and people were pulling out the comics and the previous adaptations and saying 'hey dum dum this is how she was here why are you bitching' which we all know why they were bitching (racism shhhh it's a secret)

ScarJo thing they just didn't care about source material, waiting for someone to remake James Clavell's Shogun so people can bitch about the character based on a man named William Addams

The book shifts names around but you'd have to be incredibly dense to miss Toranaga being the stand in for Tokugawa.

Miniseries they made for it in the 80's is beyond outstanding and I always recommend it to anyone learning Japanese because they don't give you subtitles and 93% of the cast is Japanese and don't use English, I picked up a little here and there watching it all the different times.

John Rhys Davies is in it too good stuff

Tangent over.

We did do that with the Greeks and Romans for sure too, oddly nearly all of the people I've ever seen point out that Jesus wouldn't have been white aren't white themselves I've only seen a few people try to argue that he was pretty even split between LDS (Mormons) and racists that hate anyone that isn't white completely missing one of the points Jesus was trying to make about love.

Just drop the fetishized version of Africa (hmm i was thinking about making a book called “The False Eden” on how black Americans was raised on Africa being a utopia before Europeans colonization ) properly researched African kingdoms and such.

If you get around to this I would love a copy, not even for the humor of it it's a interesting concept to run with.

[tobiasdrake]

On that note, I think now is a good time to talk for a bit about Maki Harukawa and the challenges she introduces.

Maki is a walking enigma. She's a mystery wrapped in a question mark shaped like twin-tails. Her lab compounds that mystery. That sure is a hostile looking door for the Ultimate Child Caregiver, isn't it? And while we're all out and about checking out everyone's labs, why is she standing guard at hers to block anyone from peeking in?

Well, if you did look inside, you would find racks upon racks of deadly weapons. Assault rifles, grenades, pipe bombs, knives, anything you need to kill whoever you want dead in the most efficient way imaginable. Because Maki is the Ultimate Assassin.

I do not envy her during the course of 3-2, before her secret comes out. Can you imagine being effectively handcuffed to this door to ensure no one ever finds out your secret? Maki did not have a very good week.

In any case, Maki's effectively V3's take on Tokojack. ...well, one of, but we'll get to him. Oh boy. We will get to him. But for Maki, it feels like lessons were learned. I said back in DR1 that the MPD thing was not only offensive but unnecessary; You could just as easily write Toko as secretly being a serial killer, without having to make her out as a harmful stereotype.

Maki Harukawa is that character. A member of the group whose unassuming Talent masks her true, less savory Talent as a murderer. Someone whose murderous true Talent creates tension in the group when it's discovered. But despite being instantly suspicious the second you know, she never kills anyone over the course of the entire game.

Though not for lack of trying and oh boy is that going to be awesome.

But as I've said before, there's a tension in V3 between the "reality" of the Killing Game and the true reality underlying. With Maki, it's not so much a tension between character and actor, but a tension between character and in-universe writing. Her existence undermines the plot. Because. Well. Tsumugi's not a very good writer, as we've discussed before.

So, according to Tsumugi's script, these kids are literally the last survivors of humankind. A catastrophic meteor shower destroyed the Earth, not only killing off mankind but collapsing the biosphere and making the planet uninhabitable. I think Tsumugi played Horizon: Zero Dawn and enjoyed it immensely.

So, these kids were selected to journey through the stars to a new planet, right? Ignoring the fact that sixteen is not a stable breeding population, we can start to see their utility.

Gonta's Entomology lab is for saving species from the apocalypse. There's probably all kinds of gene samples and cloning shit on the ship somewhere too. Astronaut Kaito's here because we're literally in space and should have someone who knows what he's doing. Inventor Miu's here to design tech. Maid Kirumi's here to keep everyone fed and clothed and clean. Etc. etc.

But. Then you run into the problem of Maki. As a colony ship, an Ultimate Child Caregiver seems vital. But an Ultimate Assassin? There are sixteen people left in the world and the sole job of one of them is to murder the other fifteen? What? That makes no sense, Tsumugi. Why would Maki Harukawa ever have been put on this ship?

It would make sense if she smuggled herself in, like Junko and Mukuro slipping into the group in DR1. But. Uh. NOPE, her lab is filled with deadly weapons she can use to murder the other survivors so that's not it!

Honestly, it feels like this was a last-second throw-in. Like Maki really was supposed to be Ultimate Child Caregiver but then Tsumugi got the idea to make one of her characters a secret assassin. Like, Genocide Jack was a funny character, let's do that again! And then she threw that in there without thinking about what it would do to the integrity of her worldbuilding.

From the perspective of a Killing Game, a character who can be outed as secretly ultra-dangerous is a lot of fun. But Maki's existence shatters the entire premise of the reveals that Tsumugi's trying to build up to.

[littlesmokesceenfan]

Xan you share some Sentinel headcanons in general?

I really like seeing what you come up with!

- Back in the academy days Sentinel would definitely be the type to be like "hey guys watch this " try to do a backflip in front of his friends yet up failing misery

-when he get really really bored of a discussion or meeting. He just straight up back out or day dream until it over

- ever since Ultra Mangus got attacked, Sentinel was unable to relaxed or take a break since he was too busy making sure that Cybertron doesn't go into a full on panic along with his duties of being the temporary Mangus . So when all the decepticon were finally catch. Sentinel finally was able to recharge himself and relax after weeks of stress..(this is pretty much just Sentinel fainting on the Cybertron equivalent of a bed and finally getting some sleep)

-definitely use his lance to reach thing from high places.

- Sentinel use his position of temporary Mangus to get into fun places when he isn't busy and he being Optimus with him. Optimus actually have more fun then he thought he would when Sentinel drag him to this place.

- this is not really a headcanon but I think it would be funny if Sentinel ranked every planet he visited and put it on a tier list. Cybertron is the only planet on S Tier so far.

-have secret spoon collection that he will never tell anybody about since he doesn't want to admit that he actually do like some things about earth.

- when he isn't suddenly attack or ambush, he actually a pretty decent fighter (I refused to believe he actually terrible at fighting, at least give him one thing that make him deserve his rank. You know it never make sense to me that Optimus is stronger than Sentinel since Sentinel actually got into Elite Gaurd so you would think he would have more training than Optimus right? But apparently not )

- cries under his battle mask and does it when no one is looking since he doesn't want to look weak.

- when Elita "dies" Sentinel would hold on to everything that she left behind especially her old academy room. Sentinel would go inside of Elita academy room and clean it. Making sure that everything is in perfect condition. Even After the events of Predacons rising, Sentinel would still clean it yet it would take longer than usual to step into the room...

-definitely use to pull pranks during his academy days.

[mary-queen-of-darkness]

Uni's mindset

Darling: Mary Rose Uniaki

Beloved: Thomas Nookington

A- Affection: What is their love style?

While she would argue its quality time she deep down is truly living for words of affirmation since lord knows she didn't get any growing up in a cult

B- BELOVED: What do they like about their beloveds?

Tom and his generosity, kindness and gentleness towards her and others

C- Career: What job do they have? What about their BELOVED?

An interior decorator and Tom is president of Nook inc.

D- Darling: Do they know about their BELOVEDS love sickness?

No. Had no idea until other DARLING'S told her about all the shit he had done

E- Eyes: What color is their eyes? Did they change them with contacts?

Her eye color she was born with was dark blue like her fathers but when she had her envy ritual they turned a deep green. But when envy takes over its pitch black with a pin prick of white in the middle

F- Family: What's their relationship like with their family?

Not great they are toxic and a cult. They also subjected her to sexual, physical and mental abuse so..

G- Grave: What secret do they have?

She was possessed by a demon when she was 4 and now has to live with the demon (Envy) for the rest of her days

H- Hair: What color is their hair did they dye it?

Blonde her hair only changes when envy takes over making it black

I- Insecurities: What is their biggest issue for them to over come?

Her crippling alcoholism and self loathing

J- Justification: Do they justify their BELOVEDS actions and if so how do they?

She blames his obsessiveness and clingy on him missing her for so long

K- Kill: How strong are they on a scale of 1-10? Would they ever be able to kill anyone?

She has Envy to do the killings she's cool when its not her. She isn't too strong but with Envy she is like a hulk x 1000 power

L- Life goals: What do they want to happen to them in the future?

Get married have a baby and raise her little family

M- Meeting: How did they meet their BELOVED?

When she was drinking coffee at a café In the city while she was on break. He walked into the café and struck a conversation with her.

N- Need: What do they need in a partner?

Someone who keeps her away from her family bc they are toxic af and someone who'll help her over come her crippling self hatred and alcoholism

O- Obstacles: What are their biggest issues in their relation ships?

Uni has a tooon of mental issues and it will be the biggest issue in their relationship

P- Parents: What is their relationship like with their parents?

mom went to a psyche ward because she killed a lot of people and dad is on the run from the family cult which made him abandon her when she was 8. So not great

Q- Quit: What would cause them to never want anything to due with their BELOVEDS

Him becoming abusive like Redd. She can not handle another Redd in her life

R- Romance: Do they love their BELOVEDS or are they in love with someone else?

She is deeply in love with Thomas, and she is happy they are a couple

S- Sexuality: What are their sexual preference? (Are they bi pan ect.)

She is Asexual

T- Time: How old were they when they met their BELOVEDS?

16 he was 21

U- Ultra sound: Do they have kids? If not do they want kids?

YEEEEEEEEES! Give her all the kids! She has her sons Timmy and Tommy but she wants more! At least one please! Especially with Thomas he's a good father!

V- Valentine: Did they confess to their BELOVED or was it the other way around?

Tom did he was very nervous to aswell and barely managed to get it out

W- Why: Why are they with their BELOVED?

Because she loves him! He saved her from killing herself. He makes an effort to make sure her mental state is good and helps her with said mental state.

X- Xerox: What unhealthy relationship patterns did they pick up from when they were young?

Learned that no one likes when she shows her weaknesses.

Y- Youth: What was their life like before their BELOVED?

She was born into a cult where she was raped when she was 4. Her mother lost her shit after she was branded into the cult and went on a killing spree. She was put into her aunts custody where a member of the cult switched bleach and Cool-aid and she drank it. After she got put in her dads custody and her other aunt burned her dads house to the ground almost killing her. She was forced to live as a servant to her where she was raped and had to care for her aunts kid. Her uncle killed the aunts husband (He was the main abuser) and let her live with his family. But his wife had problems with her PTSD episodes and kicked her out where her uncle let her live with her future abusive ex husband Redd. She was happy for a bit making friends at the city but it never last as Redd abused her and make her leave her friends.

Z- Zombie: How do they react when their BELOVED is upset? How would they react when they were to die?

Would be devastated but would continue to live because of the twins if Tom died. If he's feeling upset, she will try to cheer him up by doing things he likes like go golfing and stuff

[everydaydg]

44. Pokemon Crystal (GBC, 2000)

Huh! Didnt expect to get back into pokemon this year! Ive only played 3 games before tackling this one.

X, Sun and Ultra Moon.

I enjoyed them quite alot!

I was expecting something that was a little rough in some corners but was still enjoyable but to my surprise, it holds up really well!!

Im going to be fully transparent and just tell you to try it out if you want a fun RPG. Its great!!

So where do I begin!

Uhh. Johto is super fun to explore! They made it in such a way that going back to previous areas is quick and easy. Once you get the bike you can go zooming all over the region in little to no time!

Going back to previous towns to gather items, do daily events and fill the pokedex is not tedius at all!

It also makes exploring the region for secret goodies a whole lot of fun.

Johto has such a unique flavor compared to every other region in the series, its just a treat through and through!

even crazier is that they put the entirety of kanto as post game!! thats nuts! you get a whole new area to explore which will take you 18-30 hours to check ever corner of it and you get the WHOLE REGION OF THE PREVIOUS GAME

Pokemon Crystal provides so much content its impresive! I was always in awe at how they managed to fit such a big game into such a small cartridge!!

Especially considering the game has sprites for so many differnt types of pokemon- with animations!! This was the game that introduced the animated sprites!!

(This was played on the 3DS virtual console release)

They look so nice!! the sprites are super charming in general! the upgrade to gameboy color makes the game a treat for the eyes, the spritework is just really really nice.

I know im the thousanth person to suck off pokemon for being... pokemon. An international sensation but what can I say! its fun!

Alright combat... yeah its pokemon alright, its pretty basic working on a rock paper scizor weakness wheel... well like three wheels but you get the idea.

Its simple but engaging enough and you have some liberty in how you make your team with TMs... I say that but they are one use items here... that sucks ngl.

Actually I think thats a good place to start with a couple of areas the game could be better.

To start, walking. The areas are small enough so walking isnt bad, the speed is manageable but it might test the patience of some players.

It takes a solid bit to get the bicycle (jeez idk if I want to play red and blue knowing theres no bike)

Again, one use TMs.

why. The only thing that acomplishes is limit how the player can build their team greatly.

VERY easy to miss things. You can miss the radio chip and map chip easly (I was REALLY CLOSE to missing them), exploration would be way more annoying without the map

Those are some of the mayor complains I have, other than that... yeah I dont have alot that I hate! its a lovely time.

L A N C E I S H A C K A N D A F R A U D

W I T H T H O S E F U C K I N G D R A G O N I T E S

8.5/10