#haven’t posted all her aspects here yet

[noctilia]

Victoria Dallon’s aspects

[falesten-iw]

To Those Who Still Hold Onto a Shred of Morality and Humanity - Stand with Us and Don’t Forget Us.

Over 40,000 lives have been lost, with 70% of them being children and women. Among these numbers are my own family members—many of whom I’ve already lost.

My family, my cousin, aunt, their children, and grandchildren were all directly targeted by Israeli airstrikes. I’m sharing a video of my aunt and cousin to reveal the harsh reality we are facing in Gaza. In this video, my aunt bravely shares her story about how the Israeli army airstruck them along with their children and grandchildren. Even if you don’t understand Arabic, just watching her speak will help you grasp the immense suffering we are enduring in Gaza. You can see the vedeo in this post.

The few family members who remain are in grave danger, and I’m terrified of losing them too. We have a chance to make a real difference and give my 24 surviving family members a chance to live.

In Gaza, jobs are non-existent, and nonprofit organizations like the UN have drastically reduced their work on the ground. Basic necessities such as milk, food, and medicine are almost as expensive as gold. My family is struggling to afford even the essentials, and my mother urgently needs medication that we simply cannot afford.

I’m also sharing another video that shows the daily struggle people face just to get clean water. The suffering here extends far beyond my family; it’s a genocide affecting every aspect of life in Gaza.

Thanks to the generosity of those who have already donated, we’ve raised $535 toward our goal of $190,363- august 17th. I’m deeply grateful to each of you, but we still have a long way to go, and I need your help more than ever. Imagine if it were your family—how would you feel if they were in this situation?

For those who have created special posts or reblogged to amplify my voice, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means everything to me and to my family. If you haven’t yet shared our story, please take just one minute to do so. Your voice could be the lifeline my family desperately needs.

You cannot continue to treat human lives as mere numbers. This is a genocide that demands immediate action. How many more should be killed before you all wake up? Will 40,000 lives be enough to stir us to action? 50,000? 100,000? 150,000?

Asking for donations and charity is something we never imagined having to do in Gaza before the war, and it’s heartbreaking that it has come to this. But if everyone who saw my last post donated just $10 or $20, we could reach our goal in no time. If you’re looking for a way to contribute, consider giving up your coffee, tea, or other “cup” for one day, one week, one month, or anything in between. Then, donate what you would have spent to help me. Please help us and donate now!

This is about more than just donations—it’s about preserving human lives and upholding our shared moral values. Your contribution can make a world of difference in our survival and ensure I don’t lose more of the people I love.

Demanding an end to this suffering is a matter of basic humanity. You cannot remain neutral in the face of such genocide. Please, let’s stand together. Enough is enough.

Every donation, no matter how small, brings us closer to hope and healing. Thank you again for your kindness and support. I will never forget it.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed even as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

Important note: ** 105 Swedish kr is just 10$ ** 1050 Swedish kr is just 100$ ** 10500 Swedish kr is just 1000$

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[pastabaguette]

sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

[jinx-xxed]

Too Late (Almost)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Edited through this older piece since I still enjoy it :) also cuz I haven’t posted in forever hey guys

Part of Written in the Stars

Summary; When presented with the choice of winning the battle or saving the one he loves, which path will Kylo Ren take?

Content; Angst, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Commander reader, original characters, Kylo POV and reader POV, Rey vs. Kylo, redoing that TFA fight basically, but now in the TROS timeline yay!, Force bonded to Kylo, Force visions, blood and injury, reader almost dies whoops, battle, Kylo saves you, murder, Kylo chooses you, whole bunch of conflicting emotions, longing, possible down bad behavior

Wc; 2.4k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Rey grunts against the force of his swing, her heels digging into and slipping against the snow covered ground beneath them. Red sparks against blue, creating a sort of purple mix of light that reflects off her face and his mask. It’s so reminiscent of their first conflict, of the fight in those snowy woods outside of Starkiller Base, where he had lost. Kylo won’t lose this time. He’s stronger, he’s better, he won’t be bested by his outlandish and fleeting desires to have someone who understood because he thought he had no one, to have someone to teach to prove to himself that this wasn’t for nothing.

It’s just them in this clearing, sparse, dying trees surrounding them, snow flying up around their legs and soaking into their clothing. Their hair is plastered to the edges of their cheeks, determination and fury burning in both of their eyes. Determination not to lose, determination to get out of this in one piece. Rey slashes at him, a downward swing that he blocks and jerks his lightsaber upwards, taking hers with it. She steps away to just narrowly avoid the middle swing he aims at her abdomen, going into the defensive again. She slips against the ground, her lightsaber unable to come up and protect her when he prepares another attack, leading her to resort to the strength of the Force. He feels an invisible power blocking his lightsaber, creating a weird effect with the plasma where it’s stuck in the air mid-swing, quivering beneath the Force. With her next breath, Rey rears up and tries an underhand slash, one which he dodges by darting backwards.

The dance is familiar, one Kylo’s practiced time and time again with different partners. It doesn’t scare him, doesn’t illicit the type of fear it does in Rey. She’s scared of losing, of what could happen to her if she does. She knows she’s at a natural disadvantage with him beating her out in almost every aspect, and yet it’s her courage that keeps her going. It’s something intangible that keeps her from bowing to his power—her defiance and spirit. He recognizes the spark in her eyes, because he’s seen it so many times in someone else’s. In someone who is so unbreakable it infuriated him, in someone who is his equal in every way, in someone who has been with him through just about everything.

Lightsabers burn gashes into trees, the wood smoking and burning orange, snow melts from the heat, only to be replaced by a flurry disturbed by the two of them. In the distance, there’s more fighting, more smoke, more blaster fire, more ship engines screaming. But here, it’s like they’re in their own isolated world away from it all. Rey misses a swing, her form falters, and he takes his chance. He uses the Force like the surge of a wave, overwhelming his opponent before she can react, slamming it against her body and sending her off balance. She yells, her back connecting violently with a tree, bringing her to her hands and knees in the white coldness of the snow. He advances with the easy, ruthless power of a predator as she struggles to get back to her feet. The opportunity is open before him, feeling like the sight of a clear sky after days of endless clouds, he only needs to-

Help.

The voice echoes through his mind, it makes his entire body freeze, like he’s unable to move even if he wanted to. It comes from far off in the trees, in a blood soaked clearing, where there’s only pain and anger and a desperate reach outwards. He heard her, her single word ringing louder than any other thought that may occupy his attention. His head turns ever so slightly, just a small tilt to the left, towards that direction. Rey is beginning to get up, she’s readying her saber, she’s prepared to fight again—but she’s studying him as well, curiosity sparking from the sudden change of his demeanor. She recognizes the way something has called him, something she couldn’t hear but could feel like a ripple across a still lake.

She’s alone, his Commander is alone, fighting to keep herself upright in a battle that’s quickly tipping in a direction that is not in her favor. He sees it in flashes across their bond, the imagery so vivid it’s like he’s there, living it through herself. There’s so many of them, all coming from between the trees with weapons brandished and with a determination to make this her resting ground. It was all planned out; get one of them alone, funnel them away from their soldiers and comrades so they can be overwhelmed and overrun, brought down by those they’d spent so long crushing beneath their heel. They knew he’d be too focused on Rey, blinded by his rage, so that left only one remaining. Her Fleet is nowhere to be found, instead fighting their own battles, working together in the skies with the methods they’d been taught. Her breath is forced from her lungs as she’s brought to the ground. He feels it, the way his chest is threatening to cave in on itself, the burning, phantom pain within his right arm and left side.

The scene disappears suddenly and is instead replaced by something else, something formed and created by the otherworldly powers of the Force. He recognizes the hazy look of a vision, a glimpse into one of many possible futures. He watches, powerless, as she’s pinned, grappling hopelessly against a woman with a blaster aimed right at her head. Kylo’s torn from the vision just as the blaster goes off, the sound of it echoing in his skull.

A sudden despair washes over him, a type he’s never felt before and isn’t sure what to do with. It has no weight behind it, being simply the tip of the iceberg of what’s to come depending on what decision he may make. But it’s enough to make him want to fall to his knees. He’s thrown back into his body, his feet feeling unsteady beneath him, the crackling of his lightsaber filling his ears instead of the screech of a blaster. His eyes lift to Rey, his mind reaches for the forest. Two choices, two paths, two outcomes. That’s what it always is, isn’t it? One or the other, he can’t have both.

His fists clench, the ridges of his lightsaber hilt bite into his palm, Rey’s expression hardens, her legs separating into a battle stance. There’s a voice in his head that hisses at him angrily, demanding he not make this choice, demanding that he do what he’s supposed to, what he’s meant to. Weak, useless, too much of your father in you. He listens to it for a moment, listens to its whispers that have plagued him for years.

But then that despair from before pierces him like a stake, yelling at him, grabbing onto him, begging him to listen just this once. There’s a dam that breaks, a cage that opens and frees the bird trapped inside, flying in a way it always dreamed of. He takes a stumbling step back, a final moment of hesitation, like giving himself a chance to reconsider. It’s futile; he made up his mind a long time ago.

And then Kylo runs. He runs in the opposite direction, he runs from Rey, he runs from his victory, he runs from every lesson beat into him, and he instead runs towards something else entirely. Towards his hope, his respite, his safety, his partner, his everything. He feels deep down in the most core parts of himself that he just crossed a line he’ll never be able to uncross—and he finds that he doesn’t want to. Snow tries to suck him down, decaying plants grab at the edges of his robes, that hissing voice inside his head screams, but he ignores it all. Nothing can stop him now. His breath burns in his lungs, icy and angry and desperate. He feels her so acutely, feels her pain and every emotion and thought within her head, and it’s this that makes him realize he doesn’t know what to do were that to suddenly disappear, snuffed out like a flame, leaving him feeling like he’s missing the second half of himself. He’s been too late for a lot of things; too late to make up for what he’s done, too late to make things different, too late to make the right choice.

Please don’t let him be too late for this.

» ☆ «

“I thought you were the good guys.”

The blaster readjusts in the hands holding it, the barrel shifting upwards like it wants to give you a better view of where your demise is going to come from. The woman behind it keeps one eye shut, the other glaring at you as she snarls at your words. “We are the good guys.”

The face of this girl you used to know is now foreign to you, aged by the terrors of war and the fight for survival just like yours is. You can’t even remember her name. Your hand shakes desperately against her wrist, as if it’ll do anything to keep back the inevitable. Blood drips down into your left eye, your breathing rasps past your lips. Your other hand lays limp in the snow, a blaster shot cutting clean through your forearm and rendering it useless. Your lightsaber is somewhere nearby, knocked from your grasp at the same moment an elbow had connected with your jaw.

“You say that, but you all stoop to the same levels you criticize us for.” You spit at her, bloody teeth bared. “What do you think this is? A game to see who can come out on top with more innocence? Don’t kid yourselves.”

The girl’s eyes flare with anger so acute you can see the sparks. She brings her heavy-booted foot down on the blaster wound in your arm, putting as much pressure as possible. You choke out a scream as pain eats you alive, nausea blooming in your stomach. Blood spurts beneath the sole of her shoe, trickling down your charred skin and onto the snow below. “Quit talking like you fucking know anything. You’re vile. You get off on killing us. You deserve whatever fate waits for you in hell.” She jerks your hand off her wrist, gripping it and twisting sharply. Bones crack, more agony. Your mouth merely hangs open, sound unable to come out as your vision flashes white.

You feel as though your body is not yours, your pain cutting the ropes that kept the second part of you inside, allowing it to linger nearby as if this is all happening to someone else. Maybe it’s because you’re empty of your abilities, your muscles and blood no longer able to harbor the power of the Force. You’d used it all up a while ago when you were fighting a different group of rebels. Now you’re left so depleted you can’t even call your lightsaber to you, nor can you seem to keep your soul inside your own body. You look again at the blaster in her hands, you look into the black pit of the barrel. Is that what it’ll feel like? Black nothingness? You think so.

There’s nobody nearby to hear you, to come help—save—you. The Fleet is off fighting their battles in the skies, Kylo is occupied with Rey, you can’t call for backup. This was the rebels plan, after all. They wanted you to separate so you weren’t as strong, so that you could be taken down easier. You’ll admit that they were smart in taking the risk, it clearly worked in their favor. You should’ve been smarter, you should’ve noticed the signs and known not to follow the bait. You should’ve kept your head clear rather than letting the idea of this victory cloud your thoughts. You should’ve known to check your surroundings through the Force so you didn’t get overwhelmed by the rebels. You were stupid in the heat of the moment and you’re going to pay for it. You deserve it. You left BB-12 back in your ship so he didn’t get injured—even if he is a droid. You hope he’ll be okay.

You can’t keep your eyes open anymore, the action using too much strength that you don’t have. The cold of the snow is setting in, making your body numb. Your pain seems so far away when it’s like that. There’s a shift, the blaster clicking, and you know what’s going to happen. That’s fine. You couldn’t escape it forever.

You expect it to happen, for that shot of hot plasma to pierce through your heart and for all of this to come to an end. Your limbs relax in preparation—but it doesn’t come. Instead, there’s an explosion of noises all at once. Your ears feel like they’re submerged in water but you can still hear the screams in fear and anger and confusion, the stomping of feet as people try to run, and the screech of an unstable lightsaber as it swings through the air and through human flesh. The weight of that girl on your chest is lifted so rapidly that breath finds its way back into your lungs in a heaving gasp that has your entire body burning in agony.

It takes less than a minute before silence settles over the clearing. The smell of fresh death hits your nose. You can barely manage to open your eyes again, merely squinting up at Kylo standing over you. His black uniform makes him cut such an intimidating shape against the white backdrop of the snow and watery sky, the silver lining on his helmet reflecting it. His breathing is coming out as ragged static through his modifier, chest heaving. His lightsaber clicks off and he attaches it to his belt, calling yours to him as he does and putting it right next to his own.

It feels like a dream that he’s actually here, that he picks you up and cradles you so carefully so he doesn’t irritate your wounds. When he lifts you, you see the carnage he left. Every rebel lays dead on the ground, their bodies getting buried under the snow that’s begun to fall. Kylo’s warmth under your cheek almost doesn’t feel real… you should be dead. You deserve to be dead. When you sent out that final plea through the Force, you never expected him to answer.

“I’m sorry.” You croak. “I messed it up. You lost them because of me. You should’ve left me-“

“Don’t.” Kylo snaps. Your body jostles with his movements as he walks. “Don’t say that.“

Even with your fading strength, you can still feel him through the bond you share. He was terrified, he was terrified of the possibility of losing you. He was terrified of how willing you were to give up; he could sense those final moments. He’s so angry at himself for nearly letting it happen, for letting the rebels get the upper hand like this.

“We will find them again,” he promises you. He pauses, the silence filled with the crunch of snow beneath his boots. “The same could not be said if I lost you.”

[rnadett]

Here is your Big Fat Hero- Cailtyn 'defender' post

I somehow get that you think Caitlyn went too far, but so did the fandom. A lot of you talk about her as a 'dictator' and compare her use of The Grey to make her sound like Hitler, it seems people forget that she purposely used it only on her targets, not on civilians or all of Zaun. In fact, she even did a bit of a favor for Zaunites in the long term.

So let’s start analyzing the important aspects in a somewhat objective way. (Don’t mind my profile picture—I promise I'll try to be objective… or maybe not, who knows?)

EVEN after her mother died, Caitlyn still tried to protect the innocent in Zaun and tried to convincing the council not to start an invasion.

She even disagreed with Vi’s opinion on using the gauntlet (Hextech as a weapon), which we saw when she discussed it with Jayce.

This was her last scene before the attack on the memorial.

After that, we can clearly see how much it affected her; it fueled her anger (Good job, Ambessa—a true politician! No wonder Mel learned from her - except she is using it for better reasons). Yet, her anger wasn’t directed at civilians or all of Zaun.

Even then, she managed to call off the invasion, which she didn’t support in the first place. And after the attack, Vi talked her down in just two minutes—a point that hasn’t gotten enough credit, especially since it was her mother’s memorial.

This scene is also telling: there’s a storm brewing inside her, and while she wants to do the right thing, like protecting innocents from war, events escalate too quickly for her to reason through them and find a solution alone. Vi staying as her only remaining pillar in all this madness.

But yeah, her anger hasn’t faded just jet, but with Vi, they found an alternative—morally gray, but still better than risking a massacre between Zaun and Piltover.

And this is what they did. In the clip at the beginning of Episode 3, we see that they targeted ONLY gang members, not civilians in Zaun. I need to mention this a few times because there's already a misconception that Caitlyn and Vi are targeting or harming civilians.

But if you look at every frame, you’ll only see them going after gang members responsible for suffering and exploitation—Margot's and Chross's gangs, for example.

Oh, and let’s not forget, these were the people Isha was running from in the first place. A children!

So, Overall, this is just a continuation of what Vi tried to do in Season 1, but now with Caitlyn instead of Jayce (or alone).

So why does Caitlyn get all the blame?

As I see it, these actions were not hers alone; Vi was part of it too. In fact, this was Vi’s original plan (except the Jinx part, of course).

So, the point of my post is this: Yes, Caitlyn is heading in a bad direction, and killing—even gang members— with gas isn’t a good thing. But at this point, she and Vi haven’t harmed innocents. Despite how it looks, at least these actions prevent more innocent children, like Isha, from being harmed. Another question is where things will go now that Caitlyn has pushed Vi away (which I think was her only truly wrong action in Act 1).

Now Ambessa has taken Vi's place (in meaning of influence, not in any other way you little pervert) , and rather than calming her, Ambessa will fuel Caitlyn’s anger, grief, and self-hatred even more.

Oh my god, I love this scene. You can see the micro-expression on Ambessa's face, how satisfied she is, knowing how good she’s pulling the strings so far.

But I think we all feel that this match is far from over.

I also leave this here:

In the end, though, I believe that Caitlyn, no matter who’s currently influencing her, will have to decide her own path and who she truly is—without relying on anyone else. Even if we love her with Vi, this is something she needs to figure out ALONE.

Anyway, I might have written more in detail if Tumblr didn’t have a 10-image/post limit. Maybe I’ll make another post about the things I left out or would have expanded on.

[muffinsin]

after reading all your hc's I have never seen a date one maybe you did idk if not could you make some head canons on it. I just want to know what these women like to do and how they spend dates with S/O weather or summer.

Maybe some smut one and fluffy one ???

Idk I just really want to go on a date with them !!!!!!!

As always have a good day!

Y’all- I’m hella surprised I haven’t done date HCs yet despite writing of so many dates! XD Thanks, hon! Have a great day too🙌 Let’s get into it

Keeping this fluffy for now because the Valentine’s Day post I did was rather similar in the date + smut aspect

Masterlists (NEW- Masterlist 6)

Bela

She didn’t think she’d ever find the time for dating, really

At at first, she didn’t

At first, despite being your partner, she had little time for dates and quality time together

And she didn’t even notice, until you brought it up for her

This is something she never fails to praise you for

Really, the day you spoke up about this and she heard, and felt, the pain in your words, she swore to change this habit

And change it she did!

Bela makes sure to schedule blocks of spare time between her work to ensure she can take you out on dates, check up on you, or simply be with you for a little while

She looks forward to it each day

In turn, this is a way for you to ensure she takes breaks and eats

Often, the two of you retreat to a quiet part of the castle

Sometimes this is her room, sometimes her office even, sometimes the hall of ablution

When the weather grants it, Bela loves to take you outside for a date in the gardens

While scowling at the mud, the ground, the grass and bugs ironic, huh? she agrees to picnic dates with you

She sits relatively still, hissing and snarling at every little bug, every ant, even her own flies, as they get too close to her

Still, she appreciates the time she gets to spend with you. So what are a few bugs and dirt here and there?

She’ll drag her fingertip lightly across some flowers as she talks

In time, she picks up on how to braid them into a crown, something she’d never admit Daniela taught her

As such, the two of you often paint the following scene:

You, sat or sprawled out on the blanket, smiling as you talk and tell her of your day

Bela, your ethereal, almost goddess-like lover, her blonde hair nearly shining in the sun as she watches you and takes in every word you speak

She likes to ask questions, just to have you talk a little while longer

In return, it makes your heart ache happily when you are proven with each question that she pays attention to your words

By the end of your rants, she usually has a flower crown set up on your head

On rainy days, she likes to get set up in the bedroom with you

With candles lit and about that cause her room to smell just wonderful. The fireplace lit, granting it a nice atmosphere and warm, comfortable air

Often, this means reading together

At other times, usually when the rain causes the temperature to drop a little, she likes to curl up in your arms like an overgrown cat and spread out on top of you or your lap

You giggle each time it happens, secretly enjoying how cuddly the rain outside the warmth and safety of the castle seems to make your girlfriend

Often, she likes to spend indoor dates in her room by tending to hobbies together, or taking time to read together

She wants to actively do something together on dates, she wants to make you feel special

And she never fails at this

Cassandra

Dating?

Her?

Truthfully, she used to dream of the concept. The love. The happiness. The dreaminess

Yet, life has disappointed her

Too much betrayal, too much pain, too much emotion, too little emotion

Eventually, she decides dating is not for her

Even as her heart burns with envy as she watches her younger sister’s grin when she talks of her dates

How come Daniela gets this, and not her?

How come she can only bring herself to care for mindless sex rather than real connection?

Then, she meets you

And all changes

She is reluctant to open up to dating, at first

While being the bold one in most situations, she is not the one making the first step this time

Instead, she finds herself feeling incredibly surprised when you ask her out the first time

She’s nervous, a rare occurrence for her

And yet, she realises she loves the experience!

She becomes more confident eventually, begins to understand the concept of dating, even

She wants to start taking you out, too

At first, she goes with the usual approach, the type of dates she knows from Daniela’s tales

Library dates, that turn to Cassandra nearly falling asleep each time

Picnic dates, that turn to some prey or noise in the distance pulling her attention

Eventually she figures out- this isn’t any good

She tries a new approach, then. She invites you along as she visits the duke for weapons, and keeps you by her side as she wanders off into the forest to try some of them out

She talks, and laughs, and notices you do the same

The two of you still end up having a somewhat picnic date, with you sitting while she is pacing and rambling, a large smile on her face, her attention only on you even as the keen huntress catches every little noise in the distance

From then on, dates often are the following;

Picnics in the forest as the weather allows it, otherwise in her large bed. Usually she will ramble of something, or drink her blood-wine and stare wide eyed as she takes in whatever story you are telling her of

Others might consist of something a little more unhinged, some would say

Often, she invites you along to watch and help her torture naughty prisoners. She thinks it’s romantic

Should you ever agree, she will be over the moons. She never presses it, though

At other times, she invites you to train with her, wielding several weapons and swinging them at one another; you, wrapped in several layers of protection, her, giggling madly if you ever manage to do as much as graze her with a blade

And lastly, she does enjoy herself dates in the opera hall occasionally, when the castle is quiet and all have gone to bed, and she gets to bask in your presence

Sometimes, she will absently hum a tune, her mind accustomed to singing in this place from the time she was taught by her mother

At other times, she likes to bask in the silence and warmth of the room and simply sit or lay on the stage with you

She enjoys spending time with you, and likes to invite you to spontaneous dates to do just that

Daniela

She loves dating! And romance, and love, and spending time together

Out of her family, she’s been on the most dates. Even added up too, probably

She’s been in and out of relationships before you nearly constantly, chasing what seemed so very far out of reach for her

Then, you came along

And with you, true love

She loves to take you out on dates, and gets equally giddy when you ask her out on one

Her favorites are ones in the library or the forest, should the temperatures allow it

She likes to read her favorite books together, perhaps even read one paragraph each, or recite one line of a character each in a play she enjoys

Often, she “kidnaps” you and snatches you away from whatever you’re doing to take you out on a date instead

She rarely cares about what you were doing, whether you were in the middle of a conversation, working, or out on a walk, she rarely pays attention to it

But how could you be upset with her for long, when her smile is so very wide and her happy, big eyes and loud, buzzing flies remind you of an excited puppy?

Usually, she also brings snacks to your library dates

Little treats stolen from the kitchen or the rooms of some unfortunate maid or family member

And lastly, she likes to bring a flower with her

A gift, for you

Of course, library dates are not the only ones on her list of ideas

In fact, Daniela loves making use of the nearby opera hall as well

Being a talented singer, dancer and piano player, she loves to indulge in all three activities with you

At times, she might sing or hum a long as the two of you sit and play piano

At other times, she loves to play dress up, to steal Alcina’s large and expensive dresses, to snatch the few that Bela owns

Often, she asks you to dress up with her

When doing so, her mind often wanders to fairytales and fantasy far-away lands

Only your praise of how beautiful she looks can bring her back to the present, together with a wide, happy smile

And lastly, of course, she loves to have sleepovers, some which she also considers dates

She likes to show off her room and soft, spacious bed

She’ll practically cover you in her stuffed animals as she introduces all of them to you, one after another

As the day goes on and night approaches, she gets more and more cuddlier

In the evening already you feel her on your lap, curled up and buzzing happily as she talks or listens to your voice

Of course, at night, she only ever tucks herself closer to you

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Nostalgic Memories Date (Eng Translation)

“You’re my first.”

“You’re my first, too.”

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 旧忆之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

─  

【Subbed Video】    

[Heads-up]: Read the transcript for reading, but  PLEASE DO WATCH THE VIDEO!! THE BGMS, THE VOICE ACTING, EVERYTHING!! (also, yes, I’ve made my real-time reactions 🤪)

───────

【Transcript Version】

【Chapter 1】

Not long ago, Victor received a commemorative book.

The sender is his alma mater, Loveland Central Elementary School, which is about to celebrate its 100th anniversary.

The book is filled with old photos of his school. With unending excitement, I relentlessly search for that familiar figure among them.

Little Victor holding up his award certificates with a composed demeanor, hoisting the national flag with aplomb, or standing on the winner’s podium during the sports meet… all these are images of him I haven’t seen before.

MC: Model student, flag-raiser, long-distance running gold medalist… how many more surprises does this man have in store that I still don’t know about?

?? (Victor): What are you muttering to yourself this time?

I look up and find that Victor has entered the bedroom without me noticing.

MC: I can’t help but feel sentimental~ After all, you were that “kid from someone else’s family” when we were little.

–

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is “别人家的小孩,” I guess you’ll understand this better if you are an Asian/ of Asian descendance/ have Asian parents LOL; it’s often used to describe how parents spur their own kids into working harder by often mentioning “the other kid” as a role model who usually excels in many aspects~ :> And MC playfully follows this with– he belongs to her/ they’re a family now. So, she can take pride that “the prized boy” is all hers 🤣💕 (aside from the obvious knife about MC being regretful of missing out on each other’s lives, which comes later~ 🥲)

–

Victor: Someone else’s family?

Watching his cool and collected expression as he arches an eyebrow, I cheekily walk up to him.

MC: Hehe, but now you’re mine~

As I notice him smiling slightly, I can’t help but be insatiable and pull him along to join me in flipping through the photo album.

We have just flipped through a few photos of the “Campus Singing Competition” when the person beside me seems to have seen something, causing his pupils to quiver ever so slightly.

Following his gaze, I catch a glimpse of a young kid with dramatic stage makeup, sporting a red dot on the space between his brows.

Before I can take a closer look, the commemorative book in front of me is abruptly snapped shut.

MC: Wait!

Hastily, I clutch his hand down and carefully inspect the photo. There is actually a small caption below it that reads–– “Little Victor, photographed by Dad”

Astounded, I snatch the book and examine it closely–– the child’s solemn expression, with furrowed brows, is unmistakably identical to that of a certain someone I know so well.

I stare at Victor in utter disbelief, while he seems to have already resigned himself and closed his eyes.

MC: Hahahaha–– you’re so cute, hahaha!

Victor: …stop laughing, give me back the book.

MC: Alright, but you have to agree to one condition of mine.

Victor: ...you sure know how to make demands.

MC: Don’t want to agree? Well, then I might just turn you into an emoji pack, huh?

Victor takes a deep breath as if he has reached the limit of his patience. He then takes out his phone, quickly taps on the screen, and holds it to his ear.

Victor: I had planned to bring a certain someone along to visit the school when I’d sign the contract to donate to the school building.

Victor: But since the photos seem enough to satisfy you, I think I’m gonna talk to the school about reducing your title to a colleague.

Hearing his words, I immediately grab his arm, displaying a sincere expression.

MC: Why didn’t you tell me about the building donation before? I’m not laughing anymore, I promise!

He arches an eyebrow and moves his phone a few inches away, as if waiting for me to offer a bigger bargaining chip.

I narrow my eyes and steel myself.

MC: I’ll give you three of my embarrassing childhood photos!

Victor: Deal.

Hearing a muffled chuckle in my ears, I suddenly realize what’s going on. I seize his phone and, sure enough, find that the screen is still locked.

MC: …you’re so childish, Victor!

Despite my reproach, he remains composed and raps my head.

Victor: He who touches ink becomes black, you know?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Victor: …wish strips?

An old metal box is gently placed on the table, inside of which is stacked with many pieces of weathered papers, tinged with a yellow hue.

After the completion of the donation contract signing, only three people remain in the empty conference room— the two of us and the principal.

Principal: When I learned that you were coming back, I inquired with your homeroom teacher about anything that might have been left behind from back then, and she really found it.

Even as I try hard to focus my attention on their conversation, an inevitably innate urge drives me to reach out and flip through the wish strips with my fingers, looking for a certain one.

Soon, a weathered piece of paper catches my eyes, with meticulously and neatly penned six letters that form the name “Victor.”

However, before I can reach my hand for it, a large hand with slender fingers lands on top of the paper––

Forced by the seriousness of the atmosphere we are in now, I can do nothing but watch helplessly as Victor nonchalantly slips the note into his pocket.

Victor: If there’s anything else you need help with in the future, please feel free to contact me again.

Principal: Thank you, Little Vic. Despite your remarkable achievements in the outside world, you still haven’t forgotten your alma mater.

–

[Tidbits]: I’m freaking crying, haha–– look at his Principal still calling this grown-ass man “小李 (Xiao Li)” aksdknld– the sheer adoration you can’t let go of despite the admiration a person has achieved from you– 🥺 

–

Victor: You’re too kind. On a different note, I wish to take my girlfriend on a tour of the school later. I wonder if it would be convenient?

Principal: Absolutely! You two are welcome to wander around and have a good time.

–

It’s summer vacation, and the campus is absolutely empty.

The continuous symphony of cicadas seems to transport me through countless summers, carrying me to the past that belongs to him.

Hand in hand, we walk beneath the shade of the sycamore tree, retracing the journey captured in old photos, from the faintly plastic-scented crimson athletic track to the library, and eventually arriving at his former classroom.

–

MC: Where would you sit back then?

Seeing him pointing to a seat in the back row, I press against the window frame and peer inside, yearning to glimpse that small figure across the boundaries of time and space.

MC: Do you have any special memory from your elementary school days?

Victor: What do you mean by special?

MC: Copying homework? Not paying attention in class? Or maybe… puppy love?

It seems like he’s heard something that displeased him; a slight frown creeps onto his face, and he gives me a subtle, scrutinizing look.

Victor: [strikes immediately LMFAO]  Your elementary school life was this eventful and colorful? It seems like I underestimated you a little.

MC: Of course not; I didn’t do anything of the sort! I’m just simply curious about your school life~

Victor: It was like any regular elementary school student’s life–– attending classes, doing homework after school, and occasionally playing soccer. Nothing out of the ordinary–– 

Suddenly, the sound of a series of brisk footsteps interrupts his words. Before long, two kids carrying backpacks appear at the far end of our sight.

Little Boy: Did you check? If you forget to bring your homework again, I won’t come with you next time.

Little Girl: I’ve really brought it this time! Where should we go to do our homework today?

Little Boy: The library.

Little Girl: But we need to stay quiet in the library, and I won’t be able to talk with you there.

Little Boy: …let’s go to the burger joint then.

Watching their departing figures from behind, I tug at the corner of Victor’s clothes.

MC: Have you ever done homework together with other kids?

Victor: Might have done some group assignments at some point.

MC: With you sitting next to them, their study efficiency must have gotten a massive boost. I’m really envious of those classmates who had the chance to do homework with you…

Hearing me say this, Victor’s face takes on a curious and contemplative expression.

Victor: Don’t be envious. I’ve got an idea.

MC: What do you have in mind?

Victor: It just so happens that I have to work tonight. You can bring in your unfinished proposal, and we can “do homework” together.

MC: …I’ll pass. Even a dummy can tell the difference between a friendly invitation and being supervised by a capitalist.

As we are talking, I see the kids from earlier run out of the convenience store in front of the school gate.

With delight on their faces, they share a pack of crisp instant noodles. The savory and crispy aroma from afar feels as if it reaches the tip of my teeth as well.

Just like me, Victor turns his head toward the source of the noise. Upon seeing his reaction, I immediately reach out and take his hand.

MC: Wanna go to the convenience store? It’s my treat!

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

The store is not big, but it boasts a diverse selection of snacks arranged on the shelves.

However, my eyes are drawn to a seemingly ordinary pack of candy tucked away in the corner. Memories of my elementary school days rush back, when this candy was all the rage for playing pranks, and I also couldn’t resist tasting it once myself––

Even at this very moment, the fast secretion of saliva in my mouth is a vivid reminder of its “special” flavor.

Filled with curiosity, I pick up the candy and shake it at Victor.

MC: This candy used to be so popular back in the day. Have you ever tried it?

Victor: Nope, I haven’t.

MC: Your childhood is missing just a little something, then.

Victor: If being a glutton is your yardstick, you probably had the most complete childhood in the whole world.

Listening to his playful banter, I silently make up my mind to tease him a little. I grab the candy and settle the bill.

Just imagining the look on his face when he tastes the sourness makes me involuntarily curl my lips into a smile. However, realizing that his gaze is fixed on my face, I hasten to temper my smile.

MC: Victor, may I fill in the missing pieces of your childhood?

Victor: No need.

Ignoring his attempt to decline with a shake of his head, I affectionately bring a candy close to his lips.

MC: Come on, give me some face! I never asked any boy students out for snacks back when I was in school. You’re my first.

Upon hearing my words, his motions pause momentarily, and he stares at me fixedly with downcast eyes.

Just when I think he’s going to reject me again, he softly lets his lips part, lowers his head, and eats the candy from my hand.

I instantly widen my eyes, not wanting to miss any nuance of his expression. But all I see him is chewing the candy nonchalantly without any changes in his demeanor.

This isn’t right… could they have changed the recipe? Puzzled, I pop a candy into my mouth, but as soon as it touches my tongue, I grimace from the sourness.

MC: Sss! So sour!

Victor seems to can’t hold back and bursts into laughter.

Victor: Mmm, it’s indeed sour.

MC: You did that on purpose!

As my indignant glare meets his eyes, he arches an eyebrow in response.

Victor: You sure have a talent for turning the tables. But speaking of doing it on purpose—

Victor: Back when I was in school, I never teased or played with any girl students, either. You’re my first, too.

The candy in my mouth still gives rise to an unending stream of sourness, yet I can distinctly taste a sweet flavor.

Victor: So happy that you’re in a silly daze?

Upon hearing his teasing, I  realize I’ve been rooted to the spot and giggling like a silly person this whole time. I quickly pretend to be composed and divert the topic.

MC: I was thinking that we visited all the locations where each of the old photos was taken, except for one that slipped through the cracks!

MC: Where was that adorable picture of you with the red dot between your brows taken?

Victor: Why do you always apply your surplus obsession in places where it’s not necessary?

MC: Humph, it took me so much effort to get you to bring me here. Even if I have to dig the school three feet deep today, I’ll definitely find it!

Seeing me steadfastly staring at him, he lets out a sigh and helplessly takes my hand.

Victor: My alma mater had to spend so much effort to reach the lifespan of a hundred years. I’m not letting it be dug up by you.

—

We’re obviously supposed to be searching for the location of the photo. However, Victor brings me back to his old family home, which is currently empty.

Before I can even ask anything, my gaze is captivated by a rather extravagant box of jewelry on the foyer table.

As I let out a small gasp of surprise, Victor also glances over, and his expression turns somewhat speechless.

Victor: Aunt Grace purchased these during her trip abroad. She said you might get tired of seeing me in formal attire, so I should occasionally change things up…

MC: Pfftt! Why didn’t she just send them to you directly?

Victor: Because I declined. She probably planned to take a roundabout approach and ask my dad for help.

MC: Well, that works out perfectly. There’s no need to bother Uncle.

I “obligingly” pat my chest as an expression of “taking responsibility” and put the ornaments in my bag.

MC: But you didn’t especially bring me here just to pick this up, right?

Victor shoots me a wordless glance and then points toward the flower house ahead.

–

Victor: Not just the head is slow, the eyes are slow too.

MC: Hey, you meanie…

After a few seconds, I’m suddenly taken aback, my eyes widening. I pull out the photo from the commemorative book and compare it to the flower house before my eyes. To my surprise, it turns out to be exactly the same.

MC: This photo was actually taken at home?

Victor: After I came back from the performance, the teacher notified us that we needed to take a photo.

MC: But I thought you would remove your makeup right after the performance!

Victor: You’re right. I did wipe it off as soon as I got off the stage. But my dad deliberately used a red seal ink paste to reapply that dot.

Seeing the awkward look on his face, I can’t resist the urge to tease him and fish out the lipstick from my bag.

MC: How is it fair if you just make do with a red seal ink paste? Since the other kids have it on, you should too.

Victor: …I should not have told you.

He firmly grasps my unruly hand, but I use my left hand to snatch the lipstick and persistently keep inching closer to him. At this point, I’m practically draped onto his body.

Just as the lipstick is about to touch his forehead, he suddenly looks behind me.

Victor: Dad, you’re back.

I jump off him in a panic, and with my eyes closed, I immediately bow towards the entrance.

MC: Hello, Uncle!

After waiting for quite a considerable amount of time without any response, I’m beginning to feel slightly puzzled when I hear a soft chuckle from above me.

Victor: Turns out that there are still ways to restrain a certain someone’s out-of-control unruliness.

I raise my head and see that there is no one at the entrance.

Seeing the smirk of triumph in his eyes, I let out a “humph” and decide to turn the tables against him. At this moment, I coincidentally spot the wish strip peeking out from his pocket because of our earlier playful fooling around.

But he’s guessed my intentions, and almost simultaneously, he presses his fingertips on the slip of paper along with me. This results in a brief standoff as neither of us releases our hold.

The silent confrontation lasts for a few seconds until I pout, and that’s when I hear him let out a resigned sigh of compromise. I finally have my wish fulfilled and get my hands on his wish strip.

The paper has already yellowed and become brittle, but the carefully and neatly written words haven’t faded even a bit during the overlong passage of time––

“I want to grow up fast so that I can find her.”

Caught off guard by intruding into the “secret” of his past, I somehow feel a mixture of indescribable emotions flooding my heart.

How come he never mentioned to me that he had such a wish before? I can’t help but lift my eyes to look into his.

And he stares at me for a long, long time, as if he too wants to glean something from my expression. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t utter a single word even after a long time passes by.

Seeing him hesitate like this, I decide to be the one to break the silence first.

MC: Haha, I didn’t expect your wish to be so sincere and honest.

MC: But don’t worry, who didn’t have some little secrets in their childhood? I’ll just pretend I didn’t see it!

Victor: Little secret?

He doesn’t seem to have expected me to say this, causing him to evidently be stunned for a moment. But soon, a glint of playfulness sparks in his eyes.

Victor: Well, that’s a shame. I was originally going to share it with you, but since a certain dummy isn’t curious––

Victor: I guess I’ll just have to leave it be.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

He has really done what he said, not uttering a single word of explanation.

He even seems to be in high spirits as he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet, as if he does not feel my indignant glare fixed on him at all.

Victor: Let’s celebrate together.

MC: Celebrate what?

Victor: I’m really lucky; my wish has come true.

With a hint of tenderness crested between his eyebrows and in his eyes, he uncorks the wine bottle. “Pop”–– the celebration begins, but I feel as if it’s my heart that has begun to deflate.

I push down the bitter feelings in my heart and take a sip of my drink.

MC: Congratulations to you, then.

Victor: Why does this “congratulations” sound a bit like you’re saying it against your will?

Being relentlessly pressed by his step-by-step advances while he is greatly amused, I suddenly feel a mix of embarrassment and anger soaring into my chest.

MC: How should I congratulate you then? Do you want me to take a photo of you for comparison to prove that you’ve grown up properly, just as you wished?

Victor: Sure, how do you plan to take the photo for me?

Originally, it was just an impulsive remark I made out of anger. But his reply suddenly causes me to choke, rendering me momentarily speechless. I can’t help but feel a little itch in my teeth.

However, upon glancing at the extravagant jewelry box in my bag, I narrow my eyes.

The next second, I push him onto the couch and start “hanging” all the jewelry on him without even asking him.

Victor: …are you decorating a Christmas tree?

MC: Since we are taking new photos in the once familiar place, you naturally have to dress up enough like an adult to give them the true value of commemoration.

However, I gradually realize that the ornaments on him don’t look over the top at all; instead, they make him look even more exquisite.

Seeing this, I wickedly pull open a section of his collar, exposing a large expanse of sculpted muscles that charges into my eyes. I can’t help but gulp at the sight.

Victor: Is this how a certain dummy defines an adult?

MC: Why? Can’t I do this?

Hearing his soft chuckle, I huff in anger as I mutter under my breath.

The next second, my wrist is clasped in place, and I find myself falling into his arms. That familiar scent of his hems me tightly.

Victor: Of course you can. But I think there’s still a bit of room for enhancement.

His warm breath grazes my ear now and then, making my heartbeat accelerate involuntarily.

Realizing that my chance to counterattack is slipping through the cracks, I inwardly compose myself and tilt my head slightly, forcefully suppressing my racing heartbeat.

Aiming my gaze at the lipstick on the table, I immediately come up with a plan.

MC: You’re absolutely right; there’s still room for enhancement. It was my bad. I still need to mark you like an adult––

I grab the lipstick and apply several thick coats on my lips, then seal it with a big kiss on his cheek.

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, seemingly evident that he didn’t anticipate my move at all. After a brief moment, he just casually leans back against the couch.

Victor: Have you finished all your preparations for taking the photo?

Looking at his face painted with the mark of my kiss, I nod in satisfaction.

He raises an eyebrow at my reaction, then pulls me closer to him once again.

Victor: Now it’s my turn.

Victor: Photos that hold the true value of commemoration should be taken alongside the witness testimony who made my wish come true.

MC: Witness testimony? Me?

Victor: Is there a third person here?

Victor rubs his temples helplessly, but the smile hanging at the edge of his lips seems to validate the daring conjecture harbored in the depths of my heart.

MC: The “her” you wrote about in your wish strip… it’s me?

Victor: You dummy, who else could it possibly be except you?

Without a moment’s hesitation, he admits it candidly.

In this instant, my heart feels as if it has been drenched.

The mottled wish strip in front of me is akin to the tip of an iceberg I have somehow peered into. It reminds me that in places I’ve never seen, millions of emotions lie buried that I still don’t know about and have yet to fathom.

And those deep eyes of his, which have been fixed on me all along, are so honest and sincere without the slightest concealment, make me surer than ever that––

The impact of our childhood encounter, the bond that forged our destinies together, perhaps runs much deeper than I had ever imagined it to be possible.

It turns out that I have already had my place in his past long ago.

By the time I speak again, my tone has already become joyful.

MC: Ah–– it turns out I had already become your heart’s desire so, so early on. I must have had quite the charm back when I was little, huh~

Victor: …I really underestimated how thick-skinned you can be.

He laughs involuntarily and watches me quietly for a while. The light in his gaze becomes even deeper and more earnest.

Victor: But MC, when I say “I’m lucky,” it’s not because I found the little girl from my past.

Victor: It’s because of the fortunate circumstance–– that little girl turned out to be you.

I instinctively find myself rooted to the spot, feeling a tingling itch sprouting in my heart, as if a wobbly little flower has blossomed within me.

It’s not until he takes hold of my hand that I finally snap out of it. Accompanied by the silky smooth touch of his fingertips, an English word takes form on the glass wall of the flower room –– Morii.

MC: What does it mean?

He lowers his gaze to look at me, his eyes seemingly concealing a subtle smile.

Victor: Originally, for me, those past days were nothing but ordinary moments, days that I would never want to look back on.

Victor: But the moment you stepped inside and looked around, those old times suddenly came to life again.

Victor: Perhaps it’s the gift of a certain dummy; you’ve always made me want to keep holding onto these moments that exist because of you.

His gentle voice is reminiscent of a feather landing in my heart, creating concentric ripples of waves.

I find myself unable to contain my giggle and lean in closer to him.

MC: Then let’s keep holding onto it.

He is slightly stumped for a moment but soon understands the meaning of my words and turns on the camera, aiming it at us. From beginning to end, those eyes of his gazing at me have held a perpetual interplay of tender and fervent glimmers.

Lifting myself up on my toes, I approach the figure that is also drawing closer to me.

Two throbbing hearts appear to have traversed the confines of endless dusty time, seeking solace in each other’s arms time and time again.

Right at this moment, the flash of the camera lights up.

────────

[Tidbits]: Didn’t wanna break the immersion, so kept it for the last here. The word Victor led MC to write together, i.e., “Morii” means the “desire to capture a fleeting moment that cannot be retained.” It’s basically the ephemeral nature of life, the reminder of everything inevitable. It’s like a time in which you expect the least, a time in which that moment spontaneously confronts you, but there is nothing you can do to preserve it— and the desire to do all you can to keep that moment to yourself is “Morii.” And if you know Victor and Victor x MC’s story, I’m sure you understand why it’s so important that they wrote it together, or rather MC instinctively followed his strokes without asking why— (இ﹏இ`｡)❤️

—

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

[Anika’s Long Analysis & Ramblings]

───

[vanitythevantropist]

DISCLAIMER: this account is 16+ as it may contain themes that are not suitable for children. Please use caution and always check the trigger warnings. Stay safe❤️

TWs MAY INCLUDE:

-Suggestive topics

-Blood and gore

-Body horror

-Scary imagery in general

-Swearing

INTRODUCTION POST:

Hi! You may call me Mod Snake/Snake Mod, or Ryn, if you want to :3

I’m a 16 year old furry (scaly?) from South Africa! I go by she/her pronouns and am Omnisexual :> I’m a Christian (and also a Satanist) (Shocker, Ik👀)

My disorders consist of; ADHD, autism (ASD), sensory processing disorder (SPD), alexithymia

Over here on this strange lil blog, you’ll find my random thoughts and interactions with other Tumblr peeps, as well as images of my pets! The main part, though, is my art😌 Yeah, I’m a digital artist and am strangely motivated🤣 (My tablet sucks so it takes a while cuz I gotta charge it after an hour-) (Le sigh)

Also, here’s the second blog: @stevens-satanic-sketchbook :3

MAIN SONA (+the roleplays aspects):

Along with art n stuff, this blog is a hybrid between a personal blog and an ask blog! Who are the asks for? My OC, Vanity, ofc :3 When addressing her, you may use the name Vanity (or Vanitealius if you wanna be fancy lmao)

Very quick explanation of who and what she is; She is the Goddess of Chaos and Imbalance in her world and is able to jump dimensions. She’s very physical but her body doesn’t follow regular physical laws :3

Ref sheet:

(None yet, I haven’t made one💀)

FANDOMS I’M IN:

-How to Train Your Dragon

-Wings of Fire

-Warrior Cats (never read the books lmao)

-Helluva Boss

-My Little Pony (haven’t watched the show lol-)

-Cobra Kai (unironically)

OC STORIES (Named):

-Stones of Gold (original)

-Wings of Fire: the Dragon Pact Chronicles (WoF AU)

-Eternal Twilight (original)

-The Wilds of Pernul (original)

-The Sky of Maroon (original)

-Eyes of Pure Silver (original)

-The Colonies (WC AU)

-The Tempest’s End (original)

-The Divine Deception (original)

-Chasing Echoes (original)

ASKS (n stuff):

Feel free to ask me anything! I’m quite open about anxiety and my disorders, stuff like that :3 The thing you don’t ask are obvious, like sexual things, cuz I’m, y’know, 16💀

BUT! that’s not all!! If you want, you can ask my OCs questions, as well! Whatever you want, really! Want an introduction? Ask em! Wanna ask about their food tastes? Ask em! Wanna know a little more about their toxic ass relationships? Ask em, see if they’ll like that😌 (They probably won’t but you can do it anyway!) (I may or may not draw art for it but probably mostly won’t but hey, who knows?)

COMMONLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

-“How do you feel about PMs?” Love em! I’m all about chatting with like minded people :D If you wanna drop a compliment, ask about commissions, whatever, feel free!

-“How do you feel about fanart?” I LOVE fanart!! If you wish to draw fanart for me, please make sure to credit the OC/design to me and tag me directly!

-“How do you feel about reposts?” I don’t like reposts. If you want to share my art, please reblog my posts directly. Thank you!

ART REQUESTS:

Status: Open !!

Terms of request (ToR):

-You may request art through my asks or in private.

-The art requested will be drawn as a simple sketch. I leave the complicated pieces to the commissions!

-I draw; furries, dragons, horses/unicorns/pegasi, dogs, cats, gore (artsy), robots, fanart, OCs

-I don’t draw; humans, fish, complicated designs, nudity, overly suggestive, vehicles, hateful art (homophobia, racism, etc)

COMMISSIONS:

Status: Closed

Commission details:

[galatially]

❝𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐣𝐨𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — i don't want to just be a passing ship in the night; what's that tradition about the bridal party? the groomsman and the maid of honor always hook up?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 8.4K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, penetrative sex, anal play, strangers to lovers, wedding shenanigans, groom & maid of honor shenanigans, slow burn, slight angst (it's me lol), honorifics (pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, baby girl)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — yay for this finally seeing the light of day! and i've been to two weddings now so i can write from experience and i'm excited all over again lol. this also was a behemoth so yay for that

The warm summer air kissed along the tops of your shoulders, skirting your coils along in its stride. The low hum of smooth jazz played behind you as you took a sip of the wine you’d been nursing for the better part of an hour and let out a breath. 

You heard your name. “There you are!”

Well, shit. 

You playfully groaned and turned to face your older sister, the soon-to-be Mrs. Samuel Wilson. “Damn it! I thought this was the best hiding place!”

Nikki chuckled and bumped her shoulder against yours. “You haven’t won a game of hide and seek against me since you’ve been born. Give it up.” She tipped her chin to the half full wine glass. “Sam said he saw you knock back two flutes of champagne and then you disappeared. You good?”

“Yeah. Well, no.” You shook your head. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t worry,” Nikki said, looping her arm through her yours. “You’re one of the best speakers I know.”

“I guess.”

Nikki knitted her brows together. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes flitted to the lilac sky. “Do you miss them? Mom and Dad?”

“You haven’t asked about them in years.”

You raised a shoulder. “I don’t know. I was just thinking earlier that you’re getting married tomorrow and that they weren’t going to be here. You’d think that they’d remember they have children for more than two seconds, y’know? Their eldest child is getting married, for Christ’s sake!” 

Arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you backward. Though you were several inches taller than your sister, the hugs she gave dwarfed you both. You circled your arms around Nikki’s waist and buried your face in the curve of her shoulder. 

“You’re such a worrier.” Nikki pulled back and put a hand on your cheek. “You are all the family I need to be here. Fuck what anyone else has to say about it.”

“But Sam — ”

“Sam loves me, with or without parents. He knew that coming into this relationship and hasn’t left yet.” Her lips pulled into a half smile. “Besides, who else is going to deal with me post-wedding?”

You gave her a flat look. “Your husband, dumbass.”

“Nope,” Nikki sang. “My loving, favorite baby sister will be.”

“I’m your only sibling, Nik.” You moved out of your sister’s embrace, a smile working its way to your lips. “Now you’re being gooey and that’s gross. We can’t let them know that we actually like each other.”

“Shut up. You love me.” A voice called to her from behind. “I’ll be right there!” She looked back to you. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You waved her off. “I’ll meet you inside in a bit.” 

“Okay.” Nikki pulled you in for another hug. “Be quick.” She turned and walked to her fiancé’s proffered hand. His gaze found yours for a half a second before he gave her a soft smile. 

You loved Sam; he was the safe harbor that Nikki needed after spending the better part of her teenage and young adult life taking care of you. Of course, Nikki took it all in stride and assured you that she wouldn’t have changed her life for another one. 

But when Sam came into her life, there was someone else to share her burdens with. Someone to confide in with things you couldn’t understand. She found an equal, a man ready to include her in every aspect of his life. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner for Nikki. 

But a part of you — a small, insecure part you often had to force down — felt out of place in their world. You were the kid sister, the child Nikki raised when she was barely older than a child herself. What place would you have in her life once they were married? 

Yes, you’d been on your own for quite a few years since Nikki and Sam met but you always came back home to them. That would all change after Saturday. 

No. 

You were happy, ecstatic. This weekend wasn’t about you and your woes. It was about celebrating two people you loved most in the world. 

Sam called out to you, worry in his tone. 

“Coming!” You took one more look up at the sky before making the trek back to the hotel.

“Whose side are you from?”

You turned towards the voice beside you, your glass hovering in front of your lips. “Excuse me?”

A few errant black curls poorly masked deep-set and sharp dark eyes that burned into yours. Amused by your response, his lips quirked at the ends. “Are you from the bride’s side or the groom’s?”

“Oh.” You set your glass down. “Maid of honor and sister to the bride.”

Recognition colored his features, his index finger raised to you. “Sam told me about you!” 

Your brows pulled down. “That sounds ominous.” 

“No, no! I mean, they were all good things, I swear! Just —” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m messing this up.”

“Oh, most definitely,” you said, smiling. “But keep going. I want to see where this goes.”

He smiled and leaned in close, giving you a once over. “How about this?” He held up a hand. “My name is Joaquín Torres. My friends call me Joaco. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

A corner of your mouth quirked up as you took his hand and said your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“So is this your first? Wedding, I mean.”

“It is. None of my friends are anywhere near being ready to walk the aisle,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “You?”

His smile was bright as he playfully motioned to himself. It did something to you, prickled your skin and tightened your belly. “I’m a professional groomsman.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I don’t know what it is, but whenever my friends get married, they immediately think of me. I’m pretty sure I went to, like, seven weddings last summer.”

You held up your glass to him. “Impressive. Have you ever been best man?”

Joaquín smiled, his right cheek dimpling. “Not yet.”

“Same here.” You clapped a hand to your face. “I mean, that it’s my first time being maid of honor.” 

He laughed quietly. “You’re fine.”

“Please, talk more so that I can push down my embarrassment.” 

“Okay, uh, where are you coming from?” 

“Technically, I’m visiting from Georgia, but I’m from New York. Brooklyn.”

Joaquín raised a brow. “What’s in Georgia?”

You let out a half-scoff, half-chuckle, your index finger circling the mouth of your glass. “I just got out of a shitty relationship with this guy a few months back, so I impulsively took a remote position in Atlanta.”

“Well, that’s…interesting.”

“I have the lovely tendency to fall in love recklessly and hopelessly.” You took a long sip of your drink. “Even if I know that that person doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Beats being so oblivious that you don’t even notice when people like you and you spend most of your time pining over them just for them to say that they were flirting the whole time.”

“If I were flirting with you, you’d know,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. 

Your name left his tongue in a drawl. “Are you coming onto me?”

Your face warmed. You gave a weak snort. “Yeah, right. Don’t flatter yourself.” Joaquín’s knuckles brushed up against the back of your fingers. You gripped your glass tighter. “So, I guess that means we’re aisle buddies, huh?” 

Aisle buddies? Really?

“We are. I promise not to let you fall.”

You raised a brow. “Did you just quote Twilight to me?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He tipped his chin to your glass. “Rum and Coke?”

“Jack and Coke. They only had spiced rum and I’m not a fan.”

“I love a girl who loves her whiskey.” 

You laughed. “You’d have especially liked me in college, then. I was a whiskey drinking machine.” You splayed your free hand along the top of the bar. “Was even known to dance on a few tables.”

“Now that I’d love to see.”

You knocked back the rest of your drink and put a hand on Joaquín’s knee, a smile creeping onto your lips. You were no stranger to a little harmless flirting every now and again. But here, with this bright, infectious man, your words could mean something headier. Something more…suggestive. “Those days are behind me.” 

“Well now I’m sad that I didn’t get a chance to see you in your prime.”

You rested your chin on your palm, giving him a once over. “We can’t be that far apart in age, can we? You’re, like, twenty-nine at minimum.”

Joaquín leaned closer, his cologne permeating your senses. “I just turned twenty-eight.”

“So, a year older, depending on your birthday,” you quipped, “good to know I’m not the only twenty-something in the wedding party.” 

You went back and forth like this for some time. You shared childhood stories of you and Nikki and he told you stories about his and Sam’s time in university. 

“You don’t peg me as the frat guy type,” you remarked at one point. 

“I get that a lot. I was a freshman by the time Sam and Steve were chapter president and vice president, respectively. ” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle passing his lips. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get in. I bullshitted through the rush questions and barely made it through the challenges but, somehow, I got in.”

You smiled. “And made a new friend as dorky as you are.”

Joaquín laughed. “Sam’s great. I couldn’t have asked for a better frat brother. I was really surprised when he asked me to be one of his groomsmen. I haven’t really kept in touch as well as I wanted to, but it’s been great seeing him and hanging out with him again.”

“That’s sweet. His best man, Steve, is the blond, right?”

He nodded. “They’ve been friends since they were in high school, I think. Their friend, Bucky, is also a groomsman.”

“I practically begged Nikki to have one of her friends or her sorors be her maid of honor and she looked at me like I was crazy.”

“Sam said that she basically raised you.”

You shook your head, chuckling. “He’s such a sweetheart. Our parents are narcissists, to put it plainly. They love each other fine, but they couldn’t extend that to us. At first, it was just leaving an eight year old Nikki in charge of a two year old for a couple hours every other week. Then, they wouldn’t come home some days. 

“Nikki made the best of it, though. She’d make sure that I never realized how bad things were until I was old enough to understand. By then, we were living with our grandmother and she finally got to be a teenager, you know?” You dabbed at your eyes. “She took it harder than I did. She knew our parents longer so them leaving hurt her more than it ever could me.”

“I’m sorry.” Joaquín put a hand on your elbow. “Your parents don’t deserve either one of you.”

You waved him off. “I know. I’m just glad that she gets her own happiness for once. Sam’s a good guy.” You gave a light shrug. “And he likes me for some reason which makes me question his sanity.”

“I’ve only known you for,” he glanced at his wristwatch, “a little over two hours and I like you.”

“You barely know me enough to say that you like me.”

“So let me get to know you, then. We have all weekend, don’t we?”

The DJ announced last call and you both locked gazes. Gooseflesh spread along your arms and your heart beat against your chest. Your hand was still above his knee, fingers splayed out wide. Your eyes were on him but focused on hazy thoughts in your head. What would his lips feel like if you touched the very tip of your finger against them? Your lips?

He was probably a great kisser. Dominant, needy —

“Hey.”

You blinked and snatched your hand away. “Sorry! I, uh — just a little tipsy, I guess.”

Joaquín smiled. “It’s fine. I was saying that it was getting late and I could walk you up to your room.”

“No, I’m good. The walk should sober me up some.” You stood up. “It was nice meeting you, Joaquín Torres.”

“You, too. I’ll be the best aisle buddy you’ve ever had.” 

“You’re going to hold that against me all weekend, aren’t you?”

He ran a hand through his curls. “I’m going to run it into the ground.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile creeping up on your lips, and turned on your heel to leave.

Despite being a tad bit hungover, you were still fairly refreshed.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Joaquín, your mind making him a feature in a hazy dream you half-remembered. There was a genuineness to him that you admired, a warmth that you wanted bask in for a long time. The way that he gave you his undivided attention as you rambled or even when you weren’t speaking made your heart flutter in your chest.

What was that saying about the bridal party and groomsmen at weddings? 

“Nice to see you again, aisle buddy.”

Speak of the Devil. 

Your lips quirked. “Good morning, Mr. Torres.”

He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. Unlike the slicked back style from last night, the longer part of his hair was set in loose curls and fell in his eyes. The barest hint of a five o’ clock shadow lined his angular cheeks and jaw. He was so damn attractive. So unfair. 

“How did you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you.” He gave you a warm smile. “And yourself?”

You hummed as you lifted your shoulders in a shrug. “Pretty good.” You pointed a thumb over your shoulder. “Did you see the omelet bar the hotel has going?”

“I did. I got a veggie omelet and turkey bacon.” He held up his coffee mug. “Did you get any coffee? They said it’s Colombian.”

You shook your head and nodded to your teacup. “I’m weaning myself off of caffeine.” You tipped your chin towards the slip of paper beside his plate. “Is that the itinerary Nikki slid under everyone’s doors?”

“It is. On today’s agenda: ballroom dancing from noon to one; walking tour of the church from one-thirty to two-fifteen; the bridal party and the groomsmen go to their final fittings at three-thirty.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She’s efficient, your sister.”

“She’s been planning this day since she, like, was eleven.” You took a piece of turkey bacon from Joaquín’s plate. You didn’t react to the flit of his gaze as he watched you bring the food to your lips. You chewed slowly, innocently, your eyes on his. 

The faintest hint of a smirk played at his lips. “You enjoying that bacon, sweetheart?”

“Very much.” You licked your lips and threw him a bright smile. “You should ask Nikki her about her wedding binder. She started making it when she was in middle school and finished it before my junior year of high school.”

“Sounds like my cousin, Luisa.” Joaquín playfully groaned. “When she was thirteen, she and my mother spent an entire Sunday afternoon cutting out pictures from bridal and travel magazines and doodling in the margins about her perfect wedding when she got older.”

“That’s adorable.”

“So what about you? Any wedding binders stashed in an old bedroom somewhere?”

“I haven’t put much thought into getting married. I mean, I guess sometime down the line I’d like to get married but maybe not, you know? Maybe I’m not the settling down type.” You lifted a shoulder and looked to Joaquín. “What about you? Is there someone back home you’re ready to settle down with?”

“I don’t know about that but there is someone that I’d love to get to know better.”

You playfully bumped your elbow with his. “Do they have a name?”

Joaquín gave a conspiratorial grin as he raised his mug to his lips. “I’ll tell you later.”

Sam called out to you, cackling. “Lookin’ good out there!”

“Fuck off, Wilson!” 

You turned back to Joaquín, rolling your eyes as the dance instructor yelled for you to loosen up. When you stepped on his foot for the third time, you winced. “Sorry!”

He chuckled as he gave your hips a reassuring squeeze. “You’re fine, Y/N. Just breathe.”

You nodded, your eyes going back to your feet. You don’t know how many months you spent begging your sister to take you out of the dance portion of the reception. Even as children, you were so awkward that you didn’t dare try to mimic the fluid rhythms your sister and cousins displayed. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to switch partners?” You nodded towards one of your sister’s sorority sisters. “Paula is a much better dancer and she’s really funny.”

Joaquín threw his head back and laughed. “I’m sure she’s great but you’ve charmed me from the moment you very brazenly flirted with me at the bar. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

You snorted, small smile growing in the curves of your mouth. “Shut up. You flirted with me first.” 

“There’s that smile.” His fingers tapped your waist. “Follow my lead, okay? I’ve got you.”

The instructor clapped out another eight count and Joaquín swept you off of your feet, literally and figuratively. You beamed as you both glided across the floor, amazed that you hadn’t stopped the beautiful flow he was creating. 

“See? You’re a natural,” he said, pride in his tone. 

His warm gaze took the breath from your lungs so all you could do was nod. 

“All right, class!” The instructor clapped their hands. “That’s all for today! Great job!” They nodded to you and Joaquín. “Especially from you two.” 

Your face burned as your sister and her friends cheered. 

You turned to Joaquín. “You’re a saint, you know that?”

He waved off your words. “You’re not as bad as you think you are. Just got to let those nerves go.” He leaned in closer. “Did you want to grab lunch? There’s a little bistro near the hotel that I wanted to try. “

Nikki appeared suddenly, smiling at Joaquín. “You don’t mind me stealing your partner, do you?”

“Nikki — ”

“Don’t keep her away too long.” He’d said the words so casually, so easy. Like he’d been asked about the weather or what sports team he rooted for. “She still hasn’t told me more about her whiskey weekends.”

Your face warmed as your sister’s wide brown eyes found yours. “Whiskey weekends, huh?”

You ignored her, your eyes on him. “How about dinner instead? Seven okay?”

Joaquín’s cheeks dimpled as he smiled. “Seven is perfect.” He nodded to your sister. “She’s all yours, boss.”

“Bye, Joaquín.”

You grabbed Nikki’s wrist and dragged her towards the exit, her laugh echoing throughout the studio. When you reached the parking lot, you fixed her with a glare. “What the hell was that!”

She feigned surprise. “What?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She crossed her arms. “Joaco and I are —”

“So, it’s Joaco, now?” You groaned. “C’mon, anybody would have to blind to not see the way you two look at each other! He’s hot, you’re hot. What’s the problem?”

“Not the point,” you deadpanned. “I barely know him. We probably won’t even see each other after the wedding so what’s the point starting something we won’t finish?”

“Who says you won’t finish it? You literally told me last week that you were thinking of moving back.”

“He lives in the city?”

Nikki frowned. “Did he not tell you that? He and Sam work together. He used to live in Arizona but when Sam and Steve asked if he wanted to go into business with them, he relocated.”

That changed things. It had been easier to imagine a torrid coupling that ended with you never crossing paths again, but if he’d be living in the city — working with Sam, whose company wasn’t that far from where you lived — made your belly clench. 

“Huh.”

“Is that a ‘huh, I should listen to my sister for once and ask out the hot best man’ or ‘huh, I’m about to overthink everything because now said best man is going to be close’?”

You flattened your features. “You’re so funny.”

A shit-eating grin stretched across Nikki’s face. “And brilliant and all-knowing. Don’t forget that.” Her smile fell some and she gave you a solemn look. “You know I’m just messing with you, right?”

“I know.”

“Hey.” She put a hand to your cheek. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows canted. “Do what?”

“Make that face,” she gestured with her hands, “and start thinking that something’s wrong with you.”

“Isn’t there? I was with Dante for, what, six months? He’s probably the longest relationship I’ve ever had and I hated every second of it.” You pressed the heel of your palm against your forehead. “Maybe I’m not built for forever, y’know?”

Nikki gathered you into her arms. “You’re nothing like them, do you hear me?” 

“Maybe I am, Nik. Maybe all I want is the idea of someone but not the person themselves. I don’t want to do that to Joaquín. He’s so sweet and funny and I’m just —” 

She pulled back, a smile on her lips. “You have so much love and care to give and anyone would be lucky to get to be loved by you.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m your sister, I don’t have to spare your feelings. But should anything go awry, I’ll be there to protect you and help pick up the pieces.” She held up her pinky finger. “Swear.”

You chuckled and looped your finger around hers. “Swear.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Nikki had insisted on taking you shopping for a new outfit and you’d decided on a beautiful, form-fitting brown satin dress that stopped just above your knees and brown chunky platform heels. You kept your makeup fairly neutral and let your curls frame your face and hang down your shoulders and back. Around your neck were a simple gold necklace stack and gold rings adorned your fingers. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve built my ego tenfold.” Your eyes glanced around the restaurant. “You didn’t say how nice this place was. We could’ve gone somewhere cheaper.”

A wolfish grin curled at the corners of Joaquín’s mouth. “How was I supposed to impress you if I just took you out to a drive-thru?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Chivalry doesn’t die just because you took me to Wendy’s. But thank you for asking me out.”

“I’m surprised you said yes, honestly.” You scoffed. “Hand to God! You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know about that. You and Sam must work with some pretty cool clients at the firm.”

“You’re infinitely cooler, sweetheart. Trust me.”

You pushed down the elation at hearing the pet name and set the menu down. “Tell me about yourself.”

He leaned in close. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”

“No siblings. My dad owns a mechanic shop and my mom and aunt run a small restaurant in Phoenix. I was born in Sonoita, Arizona, this tiny place with less than a thousand people.” 

“Coming to the city must’ve been a culture shock.”

Joaquín chuckled. “Hit me like a fuckin’ brick, let me tell you.”

“So, how’d you meet back up with Sam? I remember you saying that you lost touch after college.”

“After university, I applied to, maybe, fifty positions with over a hundred different corporate firms and I was striking out left and right. Sam messaged me on Instagram a little while later asking to catch up. When he first asked me to join his firm, I tuned him down.”

“Why?”

He lifted his shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Sam. He’s one of the best guys I know. But I didn’t want him to just give me a job, y’know?”

You nodded. “That’s fair but I don’t see Sam as being the type to hand out opportunities to just anyone. If he offered you a position, it’s because he believes in you.”

Joaquín smiled. “I suppose so.” 

Your server came back with your drink orders. He smiled at you, his notepad in hand. “And are we ready to order? We have a butternut squash risotto as one of our specials, if you’re interested.”

“That actually sounds delicious.” You looked to Joaquín. “Is it okay if I get that?”

“You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks burned and you, thankfully, didn’t stumble over reciting your order. As Joaquín spoke to the server, you couldn’t help giving him a once over. He wore a navy blue dress shirt that looked painted on, the top three buttons undone. His curls were messily styled and falling in his eyes. His face was clean-shaven save for his goatee and mustache. His big hands were adorned with silver rings. Much like the first night you met, your mouth watered at the thought of those hands on you. How rough or soft they’d feel against your skin. 

His gaze found yours and he winked at you. You needed him carnally. 

“I think he likes you.”

Your brows pulled down. “What?”

“Our server. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here.” He chuckled. “I can’t blame him.”

“You’re doing it again.”

He raised a brow. “Doing what?”

“Flirting with me,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “Keep doing that and I’ll get the wrong idea.”

“Maybe it’s not the wrong idea. Maybe it’s right.”

“Look, Joaquín, I don’t know if it’s because of the wedding or if this is one of those rom-com scenarios, but I like you. A lot. But I’ve never been good at relationships and I don’t want to ruin whatever this is before it even gets off the ground.”

He put a hand over one of yours. “I’m willing to go as fast or as slow as you want to.”

“And what if you get tired of waiting for me?”

“How about we just get through dinner first, then the wedding, and we’ll meet each other in the middle?” Your food was sat down in front of you but his hand never left the top of yours. “If after this weekend, you don’t want to keep in touch, I won’t be upset.” He cocked his head to the side. “Okay, I might be a little upset but I’ll respect your decision.”

You nodded, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I can do that.”

“Good.” He leaned back into his seat and picked up his fork, his eyes still on you. “Now, I have an important question to ask you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay…”

“Do you like scary movies?”

“What’re you reading?”

You ducked your head between the pages of your book. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that!” 

“Sorry. I thought you heard me coming up behind you.” Joaquín tapped the top of your bare knee with a callused finger. “Must be quite an engrossing read.”

“Something like that.” You slid your glasses to the top of your head. “What are you doing up so late?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m a bit of an insomniac. What about you?”

“Nerves.” You held your book up. “Figured I’d finish this book I found in my room.”

“Verdict?”

“I should’ve just gotten a drink at the bar before they closed,” you said, snorting. 

“We can crack open a bottle in my room if you want.”

You raised a brow. “You raid the mini bars at hotels?”

“God, no! That’s a scam waiting to happen.” A smile grew along his lips. “I bring my own poison.”

You raised a brow. “What kind of alcohol are we talking?”

Joaquín leaned in towards you, his voice low and husky. “I’m a whiskey man.”

God, you could get lost in his eyes. Where most people would leer at you or completely ignore you, Joaquín seemed to be looking to the very soul of you. You could’ve told him anything and everything, given him whatever he wanted. 

“And I think I have snacks from my plane ride here.”

You doggy eared your book page and stood to your feet. “Lead the way.”

Joaquín looped his arm through yours and led you down the hallway towards the main lobby. You both must have looked silly to passerby: both of you in pajamas, giggling like teenagers. You caught the elevator just as two people got off and you pressed the seven button. 

Once the doors closed, a tension filled the car. Every so often, one of you would shift your weight and the backs of your hands would brush against each other, both of you muttering hushed apologies to each other. 

Hazy, heated thoughts ran rampant in your mind. Out of your peripheral, you saw Joaquín leaned up against the railing on the right side of the car. Everything about him just oozed sexy: from the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and biceps, to how perfectly his curls fell in his eyes before he pushed it back with one of his strong hands. 

His hands. God, his hands. 

You shifted your weight again, discreetly rubbing her thighs together to diffuse the tension between your legs. The elevator music suddenly seemed louder and deafening. 

“…okay?”

You blinked and turned to Joaquín. He was in front of you now, his hands reaching for you but not quite touching you. Worry painted his features.

“What?”

“We’re on our floor.” His eyes skimmed your face. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, an apologetic smile on your lips. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.” You cleared your throat and stepped past him out of the elevator. The heat from his body laved against your back. You started towards the left before you turned to look at him over your shoulder. 

“I don’t know where your room is,” you said, your voice small.

Joaquín took one of your wrists in his hand and said, “I’ve got you.”

You decided that you loved the way Joaquín laughed. 

His eyes crinkled at the sides as he clutched his sides. Sometimes a small snort would pass his lips and it made him laugh even harder. He looked boyish, gentle. 

You were sat in the middle of his hotel room floor, the bottle of Jack Daniels between the two of you and the TV turned low in the background. You’d just told him about your first encounter with the Chuck E. Cheese mascot and how the poor then teenager got a swift kick to the groin by an eight year old. 

“God, that was great.” He dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Do you make everyone you drink with laugh this much?”

You knocked back the last of your glass. “Not intentionally.”

“Funny and beautiful,” Joaquín said, toasting to you. “One of my favorite combinations.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“I only want one to believe me.”

“I want to try something. Is that okay?” He nodded. “I need you to say it out loud.”

“Yes.”

You crawled towards him and experimentally straddled him, your hands on his shoulders. Your heart was pounding and you were getting lightheaded but you held your resolve. “Kiss me.”

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for a slow, hard kiss. His tongue laved the inside of your mouth and you moaned. Your fingers carded through his curls, pulling him closer to you. Teeth clanged against each other as lips were pulled between them, soft moans spilling into the silent void around you both. 

Joaquín pulled back. “I’ve been wanting to do that since that first night in the bar.”

You smiled. “Me, too.” Your eyes found the digital clock over his shoulder. “It’s late. I should go.”

“No,” he whined, caging you against his chest. “Stay.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “I can’t. Not tonight.”

His brown eyes brightened. “So tomorrow night?”

“Maybe. If you behave.” You disentangled yourself from his embrace and stood to your feet. “Goodnight, Mr. Torres.”

“See you in the morning.”

The morning of the wedding started slower than you thought it would have. 

You had been sitting in the makeup chair for ten minutes, waiting for Nikki to emerge from behind the folding screen set up in the middle of the room. The bridesmaids were getting ready in the suite next door and you and Nikki shared this suite. 

“You look beautiful.”

You turned and saw Nikki; her dress was beautiful: the sleeves were delicate lace and looked beautiful against her brown skin. The back of the dress plunged low and fed into the skirt that trailed behind her. She decided to keep her makeup and hair simple with a natural look and her coils swept up into a polished bun. 

You blinked furiously. “You look so beautiful but if I cry, I’m sure the makeup artist will murder me.”

Nikki chuckled. “Me? You look stunning.”

“Compared to you, I look like Ernie from Sesame Street.”

She rolled her eyes. “Take the compliment, you goof.”

You stood up from your chair and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you, too.” Nikki pulled back, her eyes misty. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.” You snorted.  “I’m serious! You might not think it, but you’ve been a huge inspiration to me.”

“Bullshit.”

Nikki laughed. “Remember when we went camping that one summer? With Granny and her boyfriend, Alvin?”

You nodded. “We went hiking while they were taking a nap and got lost.” You had wanted to go find a creek that you’d passed on the way to your camping spot. 

“You were, what, nine? Ten?”

“I was eight and a half,” you said, smirking. 

“We’d gotten lost and I got so scared. I started crying and I think I said Mom’s name.”  Nikki shook her head. “I was crying and tired and the last thing I wanted was to keep getting lost.

“But then you bent down and wiped my tears away. You were barely nine years old and you made sure that I was okay before we finally found a park ranger.” She put a hand to your cheek. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

“I said that we would always have each other. No matter what.”

Nikki nodded. “I know that our childhood was less than ideal, shitty at best. I know that outside of Granny, all we had was each other and that made our relationship a little more complicated than other siblings. But there’s not a day that goes by when I’m not in total awe of you.”

“Oh, yeah, my impulsivity and lacking love life are aspirational.”

“You’re one of the strongest people  I know,” she rebutted. “As much as I raised you, you raised me, too. You taught me about passion and determination. You’ve made me think outside of the box and go after things that I want. You showed me what being a kid was and how we shouldn’t want to grow up too fast. Anything I learned about self-love and confidence, I got from you.”

You tilted your head back. “The makeup artist had me in the chair for forty minutes, Nikki! I can’t cry off all of her hard work!”

She pulled you into a hug. “No matter what happens, no matter what stages of life we’re in, it’s always going to be us against the world. Don’t ever doubt that.”

You nodded against her shoulder. “I love you, Nikki.”

“I love you, too.”

A knock came upon the door and the wedding planner, Natasha, poked her head in. “It’s time, you guys.” A warm smile crossed her lips. “You both look gorgeous, truly.”

“Thank you,” Nikki said. She squared her shoulders and looped her arm with her yours. “We’re ready.”

You were all too aware of Joaquín’s presence beside you. 

It didn’t help that he looked downright sinful in his suit. Did he paint the damn thing on or did it just fit him too well? His hair was artfully messy, curls falling in his eyes. His knuckles brushed up against yours a few times, so soft you’d thought you imagined the contact. 

“You’re killing me,” he said against your ear. 

You arched a brow. “What?”

“It’s taking all of my self-control not to whisk you off to the church basement and have my way with you.” His voice was rough. “Remind me to personally thank your sister for choosing the dress.”

A triumphant smirk colored your lips. “Noted.”

The organ kicked up and Joaquín turned to face you. “Ready?” He held out his arm.

You nodded and looped your arm through his. The ushers opened the doors and you were met with the guests and white rose covered aisle. As you waited for the second to last pair of the wedding party to head down the aisle, Joaquín leaned in towards you again, his breath laving the shell of your ear.

“I won’t let you fall.”

The couple in front of you started down the aisle and you gripped onto Joaquín’s arm tighter. Once the others were further up the aisle, he took a step forward and you followed. Every few steps, you stole glances at him, your breath catching. Once you were at the foot of the altar, he held his arm up for you to stand beside the other bridesmaids and he crossed over to the groom’s side. 

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this lovely couple.”

Joaquín caught your eye as the pastor continued his speech. His happiness shone so bright on his face that you couldn’t help but mirror it. You like the rest of the crowd, were brought to tears by the Sam and Nikki’s vows and cheered like sports fans when they kissed as man and wife. 

As they were about to step down from the altar, Nikki pulled you into a crushing hug. She whispered teary thank-yous and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“I love you. So much.”

You looked over your sister’s shoulder to your newly minted brother-in-law. “See you for dinner in two weeks?”

Sam smiled and took hold of your wrist. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You needed an out. Quickly. 

Your speech at the reception had most of the room in tears and a few of the wedding party members congratulated you off to the side. When it was time for the waltz, the tension between you and Joaquín was smoldering and all-consuming. All you could think about was his lips on yours. 

Before Sam and Nikki made their way to the middle of the dance floor, Joaquín whispered in your ear, “You have two hours.”

“For what?”

“Until you’re mine for the rest of the night.” The noise that left your throat was suffocated by the cheers and applauds for the bride and groom but you knew that he heard it. He moved to go sit at his table before you could get the words off of your tongue. 

You kept up appearances as well as you could but during lapses in conversation, your attention wandered to Joaquín. He teased you, subtly biting and licking his lips or giving you quick once overs as he spoke to some distant relative of yours. 

Nikki and Sam gave were basking in their marital bliss and, thankfully, didn’t notice the two of you shamelessly flirting from across the ballroom. 

The evening died down and Joaquín offered to walk you back to your room. You agreed, ignoring the teases from Nikki and Sam, and let him lead you out of the ballroom. Once the elevator doors closed, his hands were on your skin. Hot, open-mouthed kisses scorched the curve of your neck and shoulders. Hands buried themselves into your hair, holding you firm against the man in front of you. 

You didn’t remember how you’d gotten to his floor without bumping into other guests or falling over each other, but you did. The beep of Joaquín’s keycard unlocking the suite door made your heartbeat kick up. 

“That dress is sinful on you, you know that?” 

“Wait, wait.” You pulled back. “Help me out of this dress. It cost a fucking fortune.”

“My pleasure.” His fingers deftly worked at the buttons on the back of your dress. Once the garment loosened against your shoulders, his fingers hooked around the straps and slid them down slow. Soft kisses peppered along the back of your shoulders. “Such soft skin you have.” 

You leaned into his touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. Cool air gave your skin gooseflesh and you shuddered. Your dress pooled around your ankles and you were clad only in your lingerie. You smirked at his sharp inhale. To know that someone as gorgeous as Joaquín Torres was taken aback at the sight of your half-naked body emboldened you. 

You tipped your chin. “Kiss me.”

He took your face in his hands and leaned in. His lips hovered over yours, barely skimming the flesh. He was teasing you, you knew that. What you wouldn’t have given to just melt into his touch and be the first to kiss him. But you cut your gaze between his lips and his eyes, silently daring him to make the move. 

He chuckled. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

You ran your thumb along the length of his hand. “Determined, actually.”

“You know that you could kiss me first.”

You let out a breathy sigh. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Joaquín smirked and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. His tongue laved across the top of yours and his moans vibrated through you. His hands brought your face closer and deepened the kiss. “Jesus, doll, you taste like heaven.”

You rested your forehead against his to catch your breath. You tried to think of something to say, anything to say, but your mind was fogged from kissing him. 

He moved you towards the bed and laid you down, kneeling in between your thighs. “I want to taste you.”

You shivered at his words. “Do you?”

One of Joaquín’s hands skimmed a languid trail between the valley of your breasts. His fingertips danced a trail along the soft expanse of your torso, earning him soft gasps and caught sighs. When his fingertips hovered above the waistband of your underwear, his brown eyes met yours again. “Or perhaps I should tease you? Make you beg?”

“I don’t beg.” Your voice was breathy, weak, as you spoke. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” He was mocking you, teasing just as you’d done to him moments earlier. His fingers dipped below the elastic, tip-toeing across the top of your pubic mound. Your hips bucked and his lips split into a cocky grin. 

“My, my, aren’t we eager?” The very tip of his middle finger hovered above your clitoral hood, tracing a half-circle along the skin. Joaquín looped an arm around your waist to keep you balanced and made slow, teasing circles against your clit. 

You screwed your eyes shut and sank your teeth into your bottom lip. A moan threatened to pass your lips but you stifled it. Your fists balled against Joaquín’s shoulders as ripples of pleasure surged through you. “Joaco.” 

“I can get used to you calling me that.” His lips trailed along the curve of your jaw. “I bet you’re all wet for me, aren’t you?” Two fingers entered your sex and made a come hither motion. A shock of pleasure rocked you and you let out a moan. “Love how wet you are for me.”

You tried to speak his name but garbled moans left your tongue instead. A warm slickness played at your clit and you let out a cry. 

“You taste so sweet, darlin’,” he said against you. “Bet I can make you come all over my tongue.” 

Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in wild pleasure as Joaquín ate your pussy like it was his favorite meal. Your toes curled against his back and your thighs all but crushed him against you. 

“Fuck, Joaquín, don’t stop!”

He moaned against your sex, the sound of your wetness and his tongue lapping bounced off of the walls. He lifted up and smiled a devilish smile at you. “Such a good girl getting wet for me like this. Making such a pretty mess.” He nipped at your inner thigh and kissed the bruises he left behind. His thick fingers gathered some of your juices and traveled down to play at your asshole. He groaned at how pretty and puckered it was. “Such a pretty little hole.”

One of his digits pushed against the puckered hole and your back arched up again and a throaty moan left your mouth. 

“Fuck!”

“You like that, darlin’? Like when I play with your ass?” He worked his finger further into you and another cry broke from your lips. “Your pretty pussy is weeping. Do you play with your asshole when you’re alone, baby girl?” He kissed up your body, lips latching onto one of your pert nipples. 

You fisted the sheets and bucked your hips as Joaquín stretched and finger fucked your ass. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes and broken cries of his name filled the room. For a second, you remembered you were in a hotel room and that whoever was in the rooms opposite them could hear you getting absolutely destroyed.

Hope they’re enjoying the show, then.

Your belly tightened and your legs shook as your orgasm rushed through you. A broken sob ripped through you and you flattened on the bed, shivering and sweat-slicked. Joaquín’s fingers left your ass and he slanted his mouth over yours.

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He pushed away tendrils of curls that were stuck to your forehead. “How did I get so lucky to find you?”

You gave a weak chuckle. “You’re one of my brother-in-law’s best friends. The cosmos saw something in you. Take your pick.” You heard the clicking of his belt buckle and your mouth watered. 

“Think you can play a little longer, baby?” He lined himself up with your pussy. “Because I’ve been waiting to feel you around my cock for the past twenty-something hours.”

A wicked glint flashed in your brown eyes. “What are you waiting for, then, Torres?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He lined the head of his cock with your pussy and sank deep inside of you. You threw your head back in pleasure as your walls fluttered around him. 

“You’re real fuckin’ tight, honey. Feels so good.”

Your nails bit into his shoulders as you bucked your hips into his. “Fuck me, Joaco.” 

His hips moved against yours slow at first. He circled his hips and thrusted in and out of you at a torturous pace. He snickered at your needy whines and mewls. “Such a greedy pussy you have.” His hips snapped against yours and you gasped. “Makes me think nobody treats your pretty pussy like they should. Is that what it is, baby?”

Your head lolled from side to side and your words faded into moans. Then, his hips rutted into you at a brutal pace and a swelling orgasm built in your belly. Spots darkened your sight and one of your hands fisted his hair. “I’m going to cum!”

Joaquín took his lips from the hollow of your neck. “I’m almost there, baby, hold on.” He pressed his forehead against yours and rutted harder into you. When his thrusts got sloppier, he let out a groan and you felt his cock twitch inside of you as you chased after your own climax. 

He collapsed on top of you, hard pants mixing with soft chuckles. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the apex of your collarbones. “Nikki said something about you moving back to the city.”

You hummed. “She told me that you were planning to stay in the city.” 

“I technically moved back a few weeks ago. I haven’t told Sam or Steve yet.”

You brushed a few curls from his sweat-damp forehead. “I might need a place to crash for a few days until my stuff arrives.”

One of his hands gripped your ass, softly kneading the skin. “Or you could stay for as long as you want and we could see where this goes.” 

“You’re sure?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve never been more sure about anything else. I meant it when I said that I think you’re incredible. If I can keep you with me for as long as I can, I will.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

“Seriously?” He cupped your cheek, your name a light chuckle on his tongue. “You want to try with me?”

As you opened your mouth to answer, a knock came upon the door. Joaquín groaned and rested his head against your shoulder. “It’s probably a noise complaint.”

“You go answer, then. It was mostly you.” You smacked him in the face with a pillow. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up!” You let out a low whistle as he padded across the room, completely naked, and went to open the door. You couldn’t hear who the other voice was but you figured it wasn’t serious from Joaquín’s belly laugh. 

“Who is it?”

He shut the door and came back into view, your sister’s bouquet in his left hand. “I don’t know if I should laugh or be offended.”

You rolled your eyes. “They think they’re so funny.”

“I don’t know, baby, maybe we’ll be next.” Joaquín set the bouquet on the nightstand and climbed back into bed, pulling you against him. “I think we’d make a great married couple.”

“Let’s get through me staying with you before we jump straight to marriage, Casanova.”

“You didn’t say no.”

You smiled. “We’ll discuss it.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — not gon' hold y'all, this made me fall in love with joaco something fucking fierce

[wriheart]

Darling and the Charming Siblings

Part three of my Ever After High rewrite let’s gooooooooooooo. I am so excited to finally get these ideas out of my head and into writing.

All of my Ever After High posts can be found here if you haven’t read them, the previous two posts explain the world building and a bit about the magic of Ever After.

So, as mentioned in my original post, the fairytale children are not, in fact, born from their parents, but instead from a magical tree that is planted upon the completion of a story. The major reason I did this is because of…insest. I know, I know, the show kind of explains it away with that one episode where the charming kids are explaining “we’re not related to that charming family or that charming family” yada yada, it never made sense or sat right to me. If all of the kids are supposed to be the descendants of fairy tale characters, Apple and Daring should be siblings. So when coming up with ideas for my rewrite, that was the most major aspect of the original that I wanted to change. So here we are.

My solution still had two problems though: a) if the charming siblings were raised by their fairytale parents, they would all be raised separately, and wouldn't have that sibling dynamic, and b) if they were raised by their fairytale parents they would be raised side-by-side with their love interest (like if Apple and Daring were raised in the same castle), we would still have insest-adjacent bs.

So, I fell back on my nobel family idea that I came up with for the villian kids: there’s a nobel family who raises all of the Prince Charmings. So Daring, Dexter, Darling, and the other charming brothers all grew up in the same home. Out of all of the noble families, the family who has raised every generation of Charmings is the most renowned.

Darling is a little different from her brothers, however. She was not born from a fairytale tree. Instead, she’s the legitimate child of Cinderella and Prince Charming.

For this fanfic (if I ever write it), one of the major themes that I will be exploring is the classism present in the world of Ever After. After all, you have the royals who find themselves born into a happy ending, and the rebels who are stuck with gruesome fates and taught from a young age that they have to go along with it. Then, you have the students without a destiny who are treated like mere extras hardly worthy of anything.

Now what does this have to do with Darling? Well, the fairytale characters are not supposed to have children, after all, that’s what the trees are for. So when Cinderella gave birth to a daughter, Emperor Grim was not happy. But Cinderella is a royal, a queen who has otherwise followed her destiny to a t. By taking her daughter and sending her to be raised by the most prestigious nobel family, it is a slap on the wrist punishment for Cinderella’s offense. If a villian survived and had a kid (or anyone who wasn’t a royal made the same mistake as Cinderella) their punishment would be much more severe. So Darling being raised by the Charmings shows how those with higher up positions are treated differently from the rest of the population.

(It still sucks for Cinderella, don’t get me wrong. To occasionally see her daughter when she visits EAH to see Ashlyn, catching a glimpse of Darling is painful.)

Darling does not know she is Cinderella’s daughter. For all she knows, she’s the daughter of the nobles who raised her. She’s Lady Darling Charming. In addition to the prestige noble families gain for raising the next generation, their children have a higher chance of being accepted into EAH when trying out. So Darling tries out and is accepted. (I’m not yet sure what destiny I’m going to have her try out for but it’s something where she’s a damsel in distress or something along those lines.)

Even though she’s seen as a lady by most, growing up with many, many brothers means she was roughhousing from a young age, and since they grew up with her, her brothers don’t care that she’s a girl and they’ll happily train with her.

When it comes to taking control of her own destiny, Darling is playing the long game. She would rather be taking sword fighting lessons instead of learning how to be a damsel in distress, but in a world where destinies are framed as life or death, she knows that for now, as much as it pains her, she must keep her head down.

That doesn’t mean she’s doing nothing though. Since the moment she arrived at EAH, Darling has been exploring. She knows the castle like the back of her hand: every secret passage is known to her and she uses that knowledge to her advantage. Blondie may be the one who loves finding gossip, but Darling is the one who truly knows everything that is going on at EAH.

So, of course, she knows that Raven is trying to break free of her destiny. Darling is willing to do anything to help, even if it means traveling into the cursed world of wonderland.

Daring, Dexter, and Darling are the three main charmings, but I might have to create a few more charming siblings to tell the story. There are so many tales with princes, and with at least four princesses in need of a prince (Apple, Briar, Ashlynn, and Holly) it makes sense to come up with a bunch more. Plus, I think it would be fun if the charmings grew up in a house with twelve other siblings.

Anyway, I’m trying to keep the characters mostly the same. Darling appears shy and soft-spoken, the perfect lady, when in reality that’s simply a way for her to disguise her rebellious intentions until the time is right. She’s curious, inquisitive, and a lover of adventure. Dexter is very self-conscious. Compared to his other brothers, he isn’t very good at the typical prince things, and yet, he has to be. He can’t fail his fairy tale. He’s constantly under pressure, and the things he thinks about himself are very harsh. Daring is also under pressure, as the prince with the most famous destiny. He’s constantly risking his life to save those around him before his destiny is even started. He sacrifices his own time to constantly be the one people turn to when there’s a foe to be vanquished, so he’s never really taken the time to simply be by himself and enjoy what he wants to do. He copes by constantly making sure his appearance is perfect, because even if he’s feeling tired on the inside, his charmingness must persist.

————

All EAH AU Posts

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

2 🩷 11 🧡 15 💛 26 for any fic you want 🤎

I'm going to go with CYOA on this, just because it's the most recent thing I've updated, and therefore fresh in my mind.

How did you come up with the idea?

Thanks to you lot! I love choose your own adventure games and I really liked the idea of challenging myself to go into a story with absolutely nothing concrete planned and make it all up as I went along, as well as asking my readers to contribute fun details. So I posted a bunch of polls on Tumblr and it was my lovely followers who ultimately decided that Lily and James had never met in person and that Lily worked for James’s mother. I had no ending in mind at all, no idea that Lily was going to wind up living in James’s house, hadn’t dreamed up Skylar yet... and yet I think it truly is my favourite fic out of everything I’ve written now. Who knew that when I asked you guys to decide Remus’s job that it would wind up having such a huge impact on the overall story? Not me, and likely not you until just now.

What was the most challenging aspect of writing it?

Honestly, aside from one or two James chapters (oh, James, you little troublemaker you) that fought me a bit, there haven’t been any challenges? The whole process has been an out-and-out pleasure.

Talk about the characters’ struggles & how you decided on those

Again, a lot of it just arose as the story went on. What I really love about this fic is that, because it takes place on a day-by-day basis, writing it feels very much like the progression of real life, and the sheer length of it has given me room to poke into details that I always knew about the characters but never had space or time to give words to. Like Lily, for example, always likes to be seen as unerringly infallible, but why is that? What made her that way? How does Petunia factor into that? Her parents? Her ex? Petunia was jealous of Lily in canon for being a witch so how do I translate that into a modern AU? What if I had the time and the space and the freedom to write Petunia as a person, rather than as (one of my favourite terms that I use a lot) a cartoon villain? Maybe Lily’s not always a great sister either? So everything has pretty much progressed in that way. Not just for Lily, but for James too. In his friend group he is the leader, but something I learned whilst writing this fic is that I make him pretty passive with other people, particularly his mother. So then I decided to explore that. I’m discovering things about them in real time, and that’s so fun. I know this is a romance fic, but for me it also feels like a story, on the most basic level, about being human.

Share your favorite detail

Gosh, there are a lot. Here’s one, though: I’m still really pleased with myself for coming up with Lily’s odd little kink for being scared by bad dreams or scary movies. I’ve no idea where it came from; it was really one of those moments where it felt like she had sprung into existence and demanded that I write it for her. It’s so weird, but somehow very her? I think it’s really cute that what it ultimately stems from is a desire for comfort at a moment when she’s feeling frightened or anxious but also logically knows that she’s not in any danger. So I find it pretty heart-warming. Even though it’s really bloody strange.

Fic Asks!

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Buddy Daddies - Kazuki & Trust Issues

I was just watching the Episode 5 dub of Buddy Daddies, and it made me realize that they did a great job of building up Kazuki not trusting Miri and how that tends to lead to him getting himself worked up. 

In Episode 5 it was with Miri being able to keep their secret. While Rei is also doubting that Miri will be able to do it well, this issue with trust results in Kazuki working himself up while they are scouting their target. 

“She’s gonna be spilling everything!” 

But she doesn’t. She works really hard at trying to use “Rei-kun” and “Kazuki-kun” when talking about them, instead of “papa,” and while she mentions Kazuki’s cooking, Rei playing games with her, and such, she doesn’t flat out spill everything like she did during the first daycare interview or something. She tries very hard to keep to the promise she made to Kazuki.

In Episode 5, we also see Kazuki not trusting Kyutaro. First, when Kyutaro offers to look after Miri, Kazuki’s first thought was that Kyutaro was going to harm her/kill her, instead of look after her.

With Kazuki’s mind already being made up, so he jumps straight to “Not even you’d be cold-blooded enough to---” before fully processing the clarification that Kyutaro made that he meant “look after/babysit her.”

Later in the episode, when Rei mentions that Kyutaro is a bit popular with the ladies, Kazuki’s mind instantly goes here:

To Kyutaro marrying a four year old Miri with Miri saying, “I’m gonna marry Kyutaro-san!” it’s a ridiculous conclusion and fantasy situation that Kazuki allows himself to get worked up over, but also definitely indicates a lack of trust.

Of course, in Episode 6, the lesson Kazuki learns is that he needs to trust his own child more. 

(Kazuki, in the car, saying, “But maybe I oughta trust my kid more.”). This lack of trust is something we with Kyutaro, even Taiga (the boy from Episode 6). 

Kazuki instantly jumps to the worst case scenario and is already cursing out this four year old child in his wild imagination, because he doesn’t trust the kid and his intentions around Miri (there are extra layers of sexism and heteronormativity that could be unpacked here, but I’ll refrain so this post doesn’t derail, lol).

(Kazuki stating: “You’re gonna regret making a move on my little girl!” when talking about a boy who is like four years old).

Of course, this all stems back to his issues with abandonment. 

(Kazuki, from the beginning of Episode 6: “Parental abandonment is the reason I turned out this way!”)

Being abandoned by your parents can easily lead to trust issues and could easily make a person jump to the worst case situation on default. That’s what Kazuki does. At the end of Episode 6, we know that Kazuki understands that he needs to get better with this in regards to Miri.

We haven’t seen the results of that resolution and character growth moment quite yet, and we don’t know how that will extend to others such as Kyutaro or Rei. Though, in Episode 8, we see Kazuki wondering if they [he and Miri] have been abandoned by Rei, and he does seem to worry about this.

However, Kazuki doesn’t allow himself to get caught up in any wild fantasies and ideas going through his head. He looks upset and concerned at the idea. But with Rei, he does seem to stay more level-headed. Kazuki reaches out to Rei (driving to him in the car) and brings him back.

Then they get caught up in their past, but Kazuki doesn’t get lost in any wild imagination. To me, this shows that Kazuki actually has a lot of trust in Rei. 

And now, after seeing the way Rei was so shocked at the party they threw for him, smiling at his Miri, their daughter, and writing a “thank you” memo to Kazuki (via the transmedia marketing aspect), I think Kazuki won’t be as worried about Rei leaving them or choosing his old blood bound family over their found family. 

Rei is still going to have to make that choice, though I think Kazuki will trust him on that. After the contents of Episodes 8 and 8.5, it has become very clear that trust is going to be a very important thing.

I feel Kazuki has learned to trust Rei and Miri, but let’s see if his trust will fully extend to Kyutaro too and if Kyutaro will live up to being trusted (I hope he will!).

[ouabhs]

acftl review (finally)

I give it a 3 ⭐️ (as much as it pains me) even then it’s only this high bc I love evajacks so much

so I was finally able to gather my thoughts into one post and while there were many things I enjoyed a few others didn’t sit right..

1. the whole story curse thing.. it makes sense that the story curse would twist things which is why some things were left unexplained but it doesn’t feel like it was done deliberately?? it just felt like stephanie genuinely didn’t know how to tie some things together.. like sure not every single thing needs an explanation but she emphasised certain things wayyy too much in the first two books for them to be completely ignored for example evajacks talking to each other in their minds. Even the broken heart scar wasn’t addressed again after like halfway through acftl

2. too much apollo.. sorry this is not even just me being biased or whatever like I do agree his pov helped explain the plot from a different perspective but he got wayyy more of a backstory and a conclusion to his character than jacks for a someone that wasn’t as present in the last 2 books.. and this was supposed to be jacks’ series kinda (ik it was evangelines too) but I feel like jacks got sidelined hard and that’s disappointing. It also didn’t help that whenever there was an intense scene between evajacks the pov would switch to apollo.. to be fair I think having 3 povs was just hard to execute in general

3. the kiss scene.. usually it would not be a big deal but it’s a big part of jacks character that he can’t kiss girls without killing them idk I thought him finally getting to kiss evangeline would be a lot more… grand? they barely got a page or any detail and then the next chapter was “once upon a time there was kissing and more kissing 🥰🥰” which was even more underwhelming. Even apollo and evangelines kiss scenes were longer and more detailed and they got multiple

4. the overall vibe of the 3rd book felt very different to the first two I couldn’t put my finger on it at first but I feel like it had something to do with the writing.. at some parts it felt familiar (like all the descriptions and the fairytale aspects) but others it just felt different?

5. during too many scenes it just felt like stephanie was rewriting tbona.. like I haven’t really seen anyone say this yet but a good chunk of the book was quotes from tbona which I feel took up a lot of unnecessary space and could’ve been used to develop other plots or characters? Literally someone that hasn’t read tbona could get a gist of what happened cause it’s all summarised in there 😭

6. the plot in general.. contrary to popular belief I don’t think this was that romance focused (as people claim as to why things weren’t explained) because I think stephanie incorporated more plot in here but it was just different to what we saw in the last books because previous characters (luc, marisol, tiberius, kristof) weren’t as present in this book and new characters plots and explanations were just thrown in.. not much felt connected

7. jacks’ backstory.. (going back to my second point) how he became a fate was really glossed over I feel and was only briefly mentioned but I just wanted more.. I do like the fact that he said he did it for chaos and I wish their friendship was delved into more because he literally turned to immortality because his friend would be alone. What about his parents? His friendship with Lyric? The merrywood three in general? His life when he was trapped in the card?

8. the first fox.. again wayy too significant to be missed out especially since jacks doesn’t really remember whether or not he had a thing for her and chaos said evangeline was similar to her.. how was there no link?

I definitely have more to add but for now my main takeaway is that while tbona was very hard to top I feel like acftl could’ve been so much more especially since it was set up so well.. I think so many people are disappointed because it doesn’t hold up as well for the last book in a series but I’m just glad evajacks got their happy ending 🫠

[fictionwriterthingss]

So you want to write a deaf/HoH character

Photo © Durgesh Kumar, all rights reserved

Admittedly, this isn’t something I’ve done myself. I’ve never written a deaf or hard of hearing character, but I’ve had people ask in a Discord server I’m in “hey, does anyone have any resources on how to write a character that is deaf or hard of hearing?” and I took the chance to find some resources for them – ones that turned out to be pretty valuable, and that I want to share here. 

I love when people include disabilities in their writing, whether visible or invisible. To me, it makes the characters feel more alive and adds another layer of depth to who they are as a person, even though they’re… not real. Adding that aspect to characters gives something for a group of readers to relate to, and can help them feel seen where they might not be seen otherwise. 

It can be difficult to write about a disability that you yourself have never experienced, and with the fact that you haven’t experienced said disability is something that can lead to stigmas and stereotypes that aren’t necessarily accurate, especially if you’ve only viewed what outside media has shown you, or what you’ve observed in public settings. Research is so important for topics like this, especially to find resources from people who do experience it on a daily basis, whether it’s something that has developed over time, or something that they were born with.

Without further ado, the resources I’ve discovered.

https://www.tfrohock.com/blog/2016/9/12/writing-deaf-characters - this blog by T. Frohock is very to the point. She begins by saying she doesn’t normally write “how-to’s”, but this one is an exception, and works to provide her own experiences, open about the fact she uses a cochlear implant to hear those around her – or not hear, if she chooses to “turn you off” in her “about” on her blog. She gives a short overview of types of hearing loss, and communication, and also recommends reaching out to an audiologist to learn more about the types of hearing loss. She also gives two links to .org websites if you’re looking for sources. She’s also written two companion pieces to this initial post. The first one is for hearing authors, and the second is about sensitivity readers. I’ve linked both of these in this section, so check them out as well if you’d like a more in-depth look at T. Frohock’s advice.

https://www.sfwa.org/2021/03/23/how-to-write-deaf-or-hard-of-hearing-characters/ - this post by Melanie Ashford on the sfwa website gives a good guide on how to approach deaf/hoh characters. Melanie herself is a hard of hearing author, so her advice is profound and solid, as she is a primary source on how to approach writing these characters. She makes a point in her introduction to say she’s been using hearing aids for 4 years (at the time of posting the article in 2021) and reminds the reader that everyone experiences hearing loss differently, and has different feelings about auditory assistance devices, such as the cochlear implants and how many people in the Deaf community believe them to be controversial and unwanted. She references the social stigma surrounding the Deaf community, and also reminds the reader that deaf characters should be just as well rounded as hearing ones. Though her article isn’t in depth, it’s a great guideline to follow.

https://www.tumblr.com/concerningwolves/168567651639/writing-deaf-characters-speech-is-speech - tumblr user concerningwolves posted this in 2017, and with more than 19,000 likes and nearly 14,000 reblogs, it’s a valuable resource for those who want to write HoH characters. Though a tad aggressive, concerningwolves makes it a point to be, well, to the point and separates their post into two separate posts. I’ve yet to find the second one, and honestly, digging through 7 years of blog posts to find the second one is a little overwhelming, but even this one post is a goldmine of do’s and don’t’s for this particular community.

https://deafaq.tumblr.com/post/190549529559/comprehensive-guide-to-writing-deaf-characters - deafaq on tumblr has a comprehensive guide to writing deaf/HoH characters. This blog in itself is not meant to be for writing help, but they had gotten enough questions about it to make this post back in 2020. Compared to concerningwolves’s tumblr post, this one has less than 2,000 likes but is still full of good and valuable information for the reader.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Grim Reader here ☠️ I’m wondering about Bucky and his feelings about that baby….and how it plays into his adjusting after the camps and post-war. I assume it’s going to be a painful memory for him and when he finally finds someone, he’s worried about miscarriages….like if someone as noble and good as Ida Brady can lose a baby, then someone with his checkered past and actions doesn’t deserve a child either? Idk, it just makes me think of how self-destructive he’d continue to be in his relationships post war because of the things he’s seen and had to do. And he already feels wildly out of place bc of how alone he is, but add to the fact that he thought of himself as the father and that’s brutal.

Hello my dear, I’ve missed you, *pets head*

I’ve got a rather massive one shot queued up on this very aspect, it’s not the full of it, no, but it’s a massive part of his arc in this story and the bereft feeling that peacetime brought with it. While I have a vague intention for his marriage and family to closely resemble his real one in this AU, it will be postponed, rash as he may be once he marries anyway, it’s simply not at all on the cards in 1945 for this AU, his emotional fidelity is split about three ways in this one, and there was a whole life he has planned and dedicated to himself that didn’t happen, twice over. It is going to be brutal but it’s also one of my fave parts as it explores what a heart this man has, beyond a romantic one.

Here, have a snippet, I haven’t got a title for it yet but it takes place after Jack Brady’s wedding in 1945:

There is a stubborn silence in which she can hear Bucky’s labored breaths practically repeating that he is not, in fact, weeping into her pillow mid morning on a Saturday in Victor, New York. She pats his arm -suit yourself- and pulls away to begin her day. She lights a cigarette, not having fully quit the filthy habit since camp, and grabs a pair of slacks and a shirt from the closet, needing a shower.

“You kept your baby doll.” his voice comes muffled and stuffy from the bed, she glances over and sees he has barely moved, only turned on his side to stare at the threadbare doll propped on her bookcase.

“That’s Minnie.” Ida introduces them with a grin, “Don’t sound so shocked Major, I’d have thought you’ve been in enough boudoirs to know that plenty of women keep their dolls.”

Bucky keeps staring at Minnie morosely, not laughing at her tease. “Did you keep it for your daughter?” he asks.

Sometimes John Egan reminds Ida of a callously curious child, his sympathy sometimes as wounding as his barbs. She refuses to read into it, he is hungover and he is confused by her childish relic; she keeps pace in her routine and replies with honesty, “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well I do.” he mutters instantly, bitterly, accusingly.

“Beg pardon?” she cautions him.

“I think about your baby all the damn time.” he turns around in the sheets then, sits himself up in her bed, eyes raw and dangerous.

The frog from Egan’s throat now takes up residence in Ida’s, she thinks she might choke on her own breath. “Why-“ panicked, her chest begins to shutter, ears ringing, hands cold. Why would he say that? “Bucky!” she'd have taken a stab in the heart over this, why would he- “Why would you say that?” she begs hoarsely, forced to sit beside him on the bed as her legs are no longer steady.

“You really don’t?” he begs in turn, looking as wretched as she feels.

“I-I-“ Ida digs her fingernails into her thigh, willing the cacophony in her head to cease, to get a grip back on the lid of that tiny coffin, “I’m not doing this. Not this morning, not when I’ve got breakfast to make for a household of people and -my brother just got married, Egan! Is this really the time to bring it up? They’re going to make jokes about you being in here! God’s sake -can’t you possess a modicum of sensitivity.”

It’s not a question. It’s an insult and he takes it on the chin. He knows that his own question -asking if she even recalls her dead child- was one of his own. That doesn’t prevent one last building tear to slip the dam and join the mess on his cheeks, because his heart is nothing if not on the opposing team.

[jccatstudios]

Six of Crows Character Design Notes

As promised, here are my character design notes for this! These are all Six of Crows era and not Crooked Kingdom. The grayscale versions have four distinct values to have a comic feel, which may not match up with the color designs. Also, I’m certain I’ll continue to change up these designs, give them new outfits, etc as I draw them more, so think of these as works in progress.

So, without further ado... let’s get to the designs!

Kaz

Monochrome color palette with hints of light purple, the color of kruge

Kaz never wears white, not even as a dress shirt. The merchants do wear white dress shirts, so this makes him distinct. Dark colors also make things easier to conceal.

They’re easier to see in this post, but he has two prominent facial scars and a few moles. A few other scars cut through the shortest part of his hair.

Each canon couple has an aspect that connects their designs. Kaz and Inej are connected through dark colors and vests

Inej

Black and blue-violet palette. I possibly see her theme color becoming a deep blue in CK (sea-related, symbol of trust, separates her identity and goals from Ketterdam purple)

Arm guards are double-layered to hold a knife each

Gold piercings contrast the blue-violet to show a difference between her old life and her life as The Wraith

Jesper

I imagine him wearing all sorts of colors, but I went with the yellow-green outfit described in a flashback. He wore more neutrals with hints of Jurda orange before joining the Dregs

Jesper’s concept was very cowboy-inspired to match his pistols. He wears boots instead of common dress shoes

Styled in Barrel Flash as seen from the three different patterns

Matching earrings with his family

Connected to Wylan through patterned pants

Nina

Red, cream, and brown palette to contrast the gray and black palettes of other characters

Heart motif seen through the pattern on her slip and the toes of her boots

Lots of Ravkan jewerly, especially bracelets to visually represent her powers

Connected to Matthias through brown boots

Matthias

Cool blue and warm brown colors (contrasting colors, a character at odds with himself)

Prepared for anything with lots of pockets and an extra scarf

Scarring from prison and a bite mark from Trassel

Like Inej, he’s in a grounded pose to show his unwavering nature

Wylan

Red and gold palette like the Van Eck family but more neutral (disillusioned by his father’s true nature)

Boots from a second-hand store. Laces tied around ankles to fit better

Dirt smudges from experiments, unable to buy many new clothes

Bag carries supplies, with certain chemicals stored on the outside for easier use (no, they’re not pokéballs)

Kuwei

Theme color is gray or white from his lab coat. Maybe he wears more teal in CK? Haven’t decided on that yet...

His shirt may seem anachronistic, but apparently t-shirts were around in the late 1800s, so it can still fit the setting.

And... that’s it! Thanks for reading. If you have any questions about these, feel free to send an ask or put it in the comments.