#i didn’t even think about this being a regional thing but now. i am

[trippedandfell]

ok shocked by some tags i’m seeing so

[thekinslayed]

Lay Your Claim

summary | When rumors questioning his wife's fidelity reach the king's ears, Aemond seeks out answers in his own ways.

pairing | king!aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI!, oral (f), rumored infidelity, exhibitionism, forced voyeurism, jealous and possessive king aemond 🫦, porn w little plot

wordcount | 2.1k

note | this is in the same realm as The Way to a Man's Heart but can still be read as a standalone :) next part will be a backstory for context.... maybe

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“...and some sprouting qualms over the Reach over farmland disputes, but I have good faith in the Tyrells to see the problem squandered before the need for the crown’s intervention…”

The late afternoon sun beamed warmly in soft rays into the small council chamber. The young king leaned against his spacious chair, rolling the green marble around in its plate as his men droned about the most minute details unworthy of his attention. Being king meant putting out small fires before extinguishing larger ones, done with a simple word or a nod, often by a wave of his hand. 

“Whatever you deem a suitable course of action has my approval, Lord Hand. Just see it done, yes?” Aemond ordered, satisfied when his trusted advisor nodded at his words. The assembly soon adjourned, and the council filtered out of the chamber, leaving the king be. Though he was not alone for long, for his wife soon walked through the same doors, sworn guard in tow. Aemond beckoned you forward with a nod, good eye running down the length of your embroidered gown. He noted his gifts adorning parts of you— the rings on your fingers, the gleaming sapphire around your neck, even the Myrish lace that adorned your overskirt. 

“You called for me, my king?” you asked softly. Always so prim and proper, with your hands clasped on your front and your spine erect like a doll on strings while stood a respectful distance from your husband.

“I did, wife. Some whispers have reached my ears, regarding an occurrence between you and one of your ladies. The Lady Wylde, I heard,” he spoke, observing as you started to fidget, bright eyes trailing away from his sight. “Do these whispers bear any truth?” 

It was silent as Aemond waited for you to speak, as calmly as his meager patience would allow him. “They do, my king. She… The lady said some things that threatened to taint my good name,” you said, head slightly bowed in shame. His face remained stoic, not betraying the sliver of surprise at your easy admittance. Perhaps he would get his answers quicker than he intended.

“I am curious to know what brought this on… if you would indulge me,” he urged, shifting to sit taller while his elbows leaned onto the table’s edge. Aemond noted the slightest flicker of your eyes towards him, before returning to your feet once more. 

“I-I do not wish to trouble my king with trivial nonsense whispered between women.”

“They are serious enough if it moved you to strike her across the cheek,” Aemond pressed before you could wave him off. In the corner of his lone eye, he observed your sworn shield. A knight from your region, sworn into the Kingsguard as part of your lord father’s negotiations for your hand. He didn’t think much of it then, but the growing whispers around court about the kinship between his queen and her knight were starting to unnerve him, like an incessant ticking in his ear. 

He won’t pry for now. Not directly at least, not while your knight stood tall by the chamber’s doors, eyes cast somewhere in the distance and avoiding his sharp stare. Still, the king would get his answers in some shape or form. 

“It is no matter now, but I fear my emotions got out of hand and I acted out of turn by striking her. ‘Twas a shameful act for a queen, I am sorry,” you expressed, slightly pouting. Your honesty seemed to be sincere enough, eyes bright as you raised your head to look directly at him. 

“What do you apologize for? The lady displeased you, did she not?” he questioned, brow raised in perplexed interest. Aemond would admit though the rumors seemed rather farfetched in his imagination, though the probability of its actuality not so much. It was not as though you were in his bed every night, nor him in yours. Despite the barriers that had been toppled in the course of your marriage, Aemond had never been one to adept in proximity. His expertise lay in keeping people within an arm’s reach, even in his marriage. Yet you never complained, and he presumed you were happy enough. Perhaps that happiness had been earned elsewhere, and the thought of it made his chest thump with an ugly heat. 

“W-well, yes, but House Wylde is a trusted ally of the crown. I understand our need for their support and their lord’s wisdom on your council. I fear that I may have tainted that pact with my actions–” 

Your words were cut short by a raise of his hand, flush lips clamping shut. The king could smirk at how obedient his sweet wife was, a dutiful little thing that never wished to displease him. It was a funny thought to imagine you capable of seeking a lover, in all your sheltered upbringing and devout faith, though it was too soon to dismiss such a thought. “No lord on my council comes before their queen. You have no need to fret over this, wife. In truth, I am pleased,” he said, smiling crookedly as confusion painted your handsome features. 

“You are?”

“Yes. I have hoped for you to find your voice— as sovereign, as my queen, and it seems you are growing the courage.”

Hearing his words made your face brighten in surprise, before warming to a timid flush at his praise. He raised his hand to reach for you, beckoning you closer. Taking short steps forward, your ringed hand fit smaller in his broader palm when you placed it in his hold. His grip was firm, though not overbearing, as was his other hand that gripped your waist to pull you closer.

“You would tell me if there are any secrets you hold that could harm the crown and its reputation, yes?” he asked, soft tone bearing a sharp edge that noted his warning. The implications of his words were evident in the way you obediently nodded, visibly gulping in his tight hold. He knew his wife was smart enough to not consider him a fool.

“Of course, husband. There is naught I wish to do that would be an insult to my king, I promise you this,” you uttered, sealing your vow with a kiss on his ring. Aemond leaned back with a pleased sigh, sneaking a glance toward the door where your knight still stood. He bit back the mischievous smirk that threatened to lift his slim cheeks, fingers thrumming on his thigh. 

“Good. Sit.” Your husband nodded towards the table’s edge. Your mouth opened to voice your confusion his intent, but the stern look in his eye left no room for question. You slid through the space between his legs and the wood, tucking your skirts beneath your bottom as you perched on the grand oak. Aemond hummed in satisfaction at your pliancy. Very obedient indeed. 

“What are you…” you started, interrupted by the king finding the hem of your skirt and lifting it to your hips. Panicked, you clamped a hand down to save yourself some decency. A moot attempt, for his grip was stronger than yours, and he had already exposed your smallclothes to his eye. “Aemond!”

“I wish to please my queen as she has pleased me. Think of it as a present of sorts,” he said, smiling casually as though his calloused palms weren’t caressing the exposed flesh above your stockings. His amusement only heightened at the flush starting to color his queen’s cheeks as you stammered.

“You are most gracious, my king, b-but here?” you questioned, head quickly turning to look at the two knights standing by the doors. Both your sworn shields were adept in playing invisible, expert in finding something else to cast their eyes upon unless they were needed. They would not react to whatever the king did with his wife in their privacy, even if he took her right before them. 

“I do not see a problem why not,” Aemond shrugged. You started to voice another attempt of reason, but he had already made quick work of loosening the ribbons holding your smallclothes together. The king was efficient in all things, wasting no time to dive head first into your lovely cunt.

With every sigh he coaxed from your lips, the more your resolve started to crumble, and the more it spurred him on. Mewling, your dainty hand grabbed his silver tresses, pulling on his roots to urge him away. Your husband lifted his head to look at you, with your breasts pushed flush against your neckline as you heaved, and eyes starting to grow glazed with desire. “What is it? Do you want me to stop?” he asked, tilting his head in teasing.

Your teeth caught your plump lower lip as you bit them in thought. Your hold was tight on his mane, a grounding pressure that kept him from devouring you the way he wanted. Wordlessly, you pushed him back between your thighs, giving him full reign to do with you as he wished. 

Saccharine essence started to coat his tastebuds, your flower nice and warm against his tongue. The extent of your experiences in the ways of the flesh as man and wife was limited, he’ll admit, seldom venturing past the goal of planting his seed in your womb by the end of it. The king’s wife was virtuous and proper, unfamiliar with seeking her own pleasure when she was so deserving of it. Aemond had started to give you a taste for it, on the nights when his blood ran hotter for you and he let himself indulge in all that you would give him. Those evenings would end with them slick in sweat and rightfully flushed, and you would always turn so timid as he cleaned you up, right before he returned to his chambers for the night. You would never say it out loud, but he saw it in your eyes— an insatiable fire starting to be stoked.

Your voice started to grow in volume the deeper his tongue prodded into your slit, a sweet song floating through his ears and rushing straight to his cock. His thumb soon found your pearl, rubbing tight circles on your nubbin. This only served to heighten your arousal, moans now properly echoing through the vast chamber. The sound of it made him smirk triumphantly against your folds, feeding the fire that had him eating you like a man starved. Your fingers never left his hair, using it as leverage as you started to ground your hips against his face. His eye flickered to catch a peek, and he found you with your head thrown back and mouth fallen agape. 

It didn’t take long for you to start gushing out your release, nearing the point of screaming as you did so. Your voice all but shook the stone walls, reverberating through the vast chambers while you trembled underneath his hold. It was the loudest Aemond had ever heard you, even more than the night he had let you ride him in the bath. A sick pride swelled in his chest while he lapped up your sweet honey, hardened length jumping in his breeches as it demanded reprieve. 

Aemond opened his mouth as he pulled away to voice a teasing remark when you grabbed the leather of his doublet and pulled him up, smashing your lips against his in a hungered frenzy. You palmed at his bulge, rubbing him through his breeches. A knock on the council doors echoed through the room before you could start unlacing him, your sworn shield swiftly moving to open the entrance before the king could bark out in anger.

Fucker. 

Your handmaiden moved to enter, but quickly bowed her head upon seeing the compromising position she found you in. “M-my deepest apologies, Y-your Graces,” she stuttered. Aemond had opened his mouth to scold, but your hand on his chest stopped him before he could spit out his wrath for the disturbance.

“It’s alright, Ada. Was something the matter?” you said softly. Ada remained with her head bowed, shoulders slightly quivering in fear under the king’s deathly stare. 

“Her Grace wished to be notified when princess Jaehaera’s lessons finish for the day. Afternoon tea has been prepared in the gardens, as her grace requested,” she squeaked. The reminder seemed to make you remember yourself, returning to your feet and letting your skirts fall back to the floor. 

“Right. Thank you,” you sighed. The young handmaiden curtsied in haste, before scurrying off when you dismissed her. Your gaze turned back to your husband, who still had his eye narrowed somewhere by the chamber’s entrance. His attention returned as you softly caressed his clothed chest, smiling up at him sweetly. “Come join us?”

It was then that Aemond made his decision. He would let the rumors be. He had no wish to prod nor question his dear wife, but let it be known that he was never one to share, in spite of his reservedness and outwardly cold nature. His answer would come on the nights you begin to seek him out, singing your sweet song of pleasure beneath him as he spurred release after release from your sweet cunt. For now, he was pleased, smirking devilishly at the sight of your knight’s clenched jaw as he left the small council chamber with his queen’s hand nestled in his elbow.

[rosierin]

she used to love me | suna rintarou

synopsis; suna muses about his feelings towards (y/n), from childhood to current day.

(y/n)'s pov here

a/n; oh to be as positive and vibrant as y/n. also thank you to my lovely bf for proof reading this and helping me write in a guy's voice cause this shit was hard af

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

She used to love me.

Never in that dramatic, sappy, rom-com kind of way. Her love wasn’t loud, or complicated. Not really. It was just... there. Quiet, constant—like background noise I never really noticed until it stopped.

I think it started around when we were ten, back in elementary school—when our biggest problems were our times tables and whether we could eat two snacks before dinner without our mums noticing.

I was always a quiet kid.

Still am, honestly.

Didn’t talk much. Didn’t stand out much. Back then, I think people called me the weird kid, which was fine. I didn’t care. I liked it better that way, anyway.

Then there was her.

Bright. Loud. My polar opposite in every way. Always running toward something, while the rest of us followed. She'd probably deny it now, but she was always kind of a leader—even when she didn't notice it. She just had this... energy. One that pulled you in without you realising.

Sounds kind of annoying, actually. But it never was. Not her. Never her.

Looking back, I don’t even remember when we became friends. I don't think many people do. When you're kids stuff like that just sort of happens.

If I had to guess though, I'd say out friendship started the day I bought Pokémon Platinum for my DS. I planned on playing it right after class and shoved it in my backpack, not thinking anyone would notice.

She did.

She pointed it out during our lunch break, started talking my ear off—about how it was her favourite, why the Sinnoh region was the best, which starters were underrated.

I barely said two words. Just nodded. Listened. Most people would’ve taken the hint and gotten bored.

She didn’t.

Guess she decided I was worth the effort, because after that, she just... kept showing up. At school. At my house.

Some weekends, she’d appear in my bedroom, sit down next to me without asking and load up her own game like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I didn’t stop her, though. Never really wanted to.

She wasn't someone I expected to get along with. She was the embodiment of Little Miss Chatterbox—you know, that pink cartoon character with the blonde pigtails?

Yeah. That was (y/n).

Still, my awkward, moody teenage self must’ve seen the appeal, because I never told her to leave. And even now, she still talks my ear off about things I normally couldn’t care less about.

She was just... different. Just her.

Bright. Stubborn. Impossible to shake.

She was like glue. Or chewing gum. Clingy in a way I probably should’ve hated, but never did.

I remember calling her that once—chewing gum. Meant it as an insult.

She just grinned—big, gap-toothed, proud of herself—and asked me what flavour she’d be.

Back then, I didn’t know how to answer. I probably called her a weirdo, brushed her off while she probably scolded me for being mean.

If she asked me again, I’d probably say strawberry.

Summery. Bright. Liked by everyone. A real crowd pleaser. The kind of sweetness that sticks around even after it’s gone.

Yeah.

(Y/n) would be strawberry.

I should've known that Little Miss Strawberry had a crush on me when she would wait for me at the school gates every day.

Even if I was late.

Especially if I was late.

I remember being sick one morning and she waited outside for almost an hour, determined that I'd show up. It was only when one of the teachers spotted her outside and told her I caught the flu that she actually went inside.

She sat next to me during every lesson—got us told off more times than I can count. She was the type to miss it when teachers were shooting death glares at us. The type to laugh harder when we were specifically told not to laugh.

A royal pain in the ass.

But one I'd never dream of trading my seat with.

I remember how she'd always lend me her green highlighter. Said it didn’t suit her "aesthetic" anyway. Said that it matched my eyes.

(Teenage me did not get the hint.)

When we got older, people started calling us a duo. Not in a teasing way—more like we were inevitable. I guess, to everyone else, we looked like a story waiting to happen. Joint at the hip, or whatever they used to say.

As corny as it is, she was almost like gravity.

I didn’t have to reach for her. She was just always... there.

She had this laugh that cracked the corners of her serious little face. Always a little louder than the rest—like she was living everything in brighter colours than the rest of us.

And she smiled at me like I was important, like I mattered more than I ever realized.

Back then, I didn’t know how to name that kind of affection.

Maybe I still don’t.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I think I started noticing it more around age thirteen, when we hit middle school.

The way she got quieter around me. The way she’d fidget with the hem of her sleeves when we talked. The blush that spread across her face when our hands touched. The way she always remembered the things I didn’t even know I’d said: what food I liked, what game I was waiting for, what songs I listened to—and then showing up with these little gifts.

A new playlist burned onto a CD.

A keychain of a character I said I liked once.

A melon pan that she'd shyly hand me after practice. God, she was so terrible at playing it cool.

"Here," she'd said, "was passing by the bakery anyway."

I didn't find it particularly funny at the time. But I think if she ever tried lying like that to me again, I'd laugh straight in her face.

There was no bakery anywhere near her walk home. She must’ve known I’d figure that out.

Thirteen-year-old me didn't call her out for it. Just accepted it all with a nod, or a smirk if I was feeling particularly self-aware that day.

But the real kicker?

She stopped calling me by my dumb nicknames.

No more RinRin.

No more Rinnie.

Just Rintarou, or Rin on days she was feeling bolder. Careful. Formal. Like she was scared of being too much.

I didn't think much of it at first.

But eventually, it clicked.

She liked me.

And I didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

I wasn’t into her like that. Not then.

She was still just... her. (Y/n). Little Miss Chatterbox. Little Miss Strawberry and still the royal pain-but-not in my ass.

Still the girl who beat me at Mario Kart by sabotaging my controller and laughed like it was the funniest prank in the world.

I didn’t want to lose that.

Didn’t want to lose her.

So I ignored it.

Pretended I didn’t notice when she started dressing different—fixing her hair in ways she never used to, wearing little accessories that didn’t feel like her.

I even caught the faint smell of perfume once when she sat down beside me, way stronger than anything she ever wore before.

It was the same scent I once said I liked. On some other girl.

I wasn’t stupid. I've always been pretty self-aware. I put it together.

And yeah—in a shitty, selfish, teenage boy way... sometimes I liked it. Liked knowing she thought I was worth trying for. Liked the way her eyes lingered when she thought I wouldn’t catch it. Liked the way she tried a little harder around me.

But I never said anything. Never did anything. Never entertained it, past maybe a small smile I didn’t bother hiding.

But she never confessed—never made it weird. She just kept loving me quietly like she'd been doing since we were nine, without ever asking for anything back.

I figured it’d fade. Eventually.

And I guess... it did.

But sometimes—sometimes I think about how carefully she used to look at me. And how careless I was with it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Her feelings began fading after that. Not all at once. Not dramatically. It happened in shifts—like seasons changing when you’re too distracted to notice.

It started when we started high school. We must've been fifteen, then.

She told me once, back in middle school, that she’d follow me wherever I went. And to be honest, I thought she was joking.

(She wasn’t.)

So when I got scouted to play for Inarizaki, she just shrugged and said, "cool. I'll go there too," like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And she did.

I joined the team in our first year.

I’d always been good at volleyball—not to brag, but it came easy. Movement. Instinct. Precision. All things I was good at and enjoyed.

She came to a few practices at first, hanging out on the bleachers, cheering like nobody else was watching. I guess some people might have found it embarrassing—but me? Nah. Actually, it was… kinda nice. Familiar.

It was a brand new school, away from home, away from everything we knew. We had to stay in dorms, surrounded by people with funny accents and different hobbies—so having (y/n) was a comfort I most definitely took for granted.

After practice, she’d wait for me by the gates. We’d walk to our dorms together, eat lunch together like always.

She was still my person—still the one who refilled my water bottle without me asking, still the one who yelled at me when I forgot to do my homework.

Thing is, we weren’t the only ones anymore. There were teammates now. Locker rooms. New people. New jokes.

But she was still right there. Still mine—in a way I didn’t have a name for yet.

It was her idea that I introduce her to the team. I figured why not. I spent most of my time there, anyway. The team was pretty chill.

Well... most of them.

That's when the Miya twins entered the picture.

Or rather, tore the pen from our hands and wrote themselves into our story.

Loud. Ridiculous. Annoyingly talented. That's how I'd have described them back then. (Well, actually... They haven't changed much.)

She wasn’t keen on Atsumu at first—can’t blame her. Said he talked too much. Said he moved like he knew people were watching. Not that she was wrong.

Osamu was more tolerable—calmer, more polite. She liked him better.

Sometimes, I'd catch her laughing at something he said and—well, it made sense. Osamu and I were pretty similar—same energy, same dry humour, same vacant expression.

Hypothetically, if she were gonna have a crush on anyone, Osamu seemed like the obvious choice.

Not that it bothered me.

(Not really.)

(Not enough to think about it for more than a second.)

Why would I?

She still sat beside me at lunch. Still poked my side when I zoned out. Still smiled that smile that made everything else a little quieter.

We were still a duo. Still unshakable.

Sure, there was the twins.

But me? I was still her anchor, and things were still good.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

By the time we were sixteen, somewhere in the middle of high school, things had officially changed.

She just... stopped waiting for me after class.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. Figured she was just busy—making new friends, expanding her orbit a little.

It was good, I told myself. Healthy, even.

She wasn’t supposed to stay glued to me forever.

Still—it threw me off. More than I wanted to admit.

I’d catch her across the courtyard sometimes, sitting with Osamu, bickering with Atsumu, then laughing harder than I'd heard in a while. Not the quiet laugh she used to save just for me. Louder. Freer. A little wilder.

At first, I was glad since I thought it meant we could just be normal again. No tension. No careful glances. No aching silences.

But then something started to ache anyway. And I didn’t understand why.

The twins pulled her in like a tide. They were loud, chaotic, overwhelming—but she still held her own.

She never let Atsumu win an argument. Never. She matched his volume, his fire, his rhythm like she was built for it.

And I watched—quietly, stubbornly—as something bloomed between them. Something she and I never had.

And the thing is… she didn’t fall for him right away.

She actually hated him at first. It took her months to actually warm up to him. She told me she thought he was a self-absorbed loudmouth. Which, yeah. He was. Still is.

And it was funny, honestly—watching them argue like an old married couple.

I’d smirk behind my water bottle, listen to her roast him without missing a beat, listen to Atsumu get all red-faced and defensive.

She always won. Always.

And it was good—good to see her like that. Confident. Sharp. Untouchable.

Except... sometimes, I'd catch the way her smile lingered when he said something stupid. The way her face lit up when she teased him.

At first, I brushed it off, because there was no way, right? Atsumu and (y/n)?

Yeah. Nah.

(Y/n) liked quiet guys. Chill guys. Guys who didn’t need to be the centre of attention.

Guys like—

...

Well. Never mind.

If she was gonna fall for anyone, it would’ve been Osamu. That made sense. That was safe.

But Atsumu?

No.

'Least that's what I thought.

But something changed. I don’t know when. I don’t even think she noticed.

But I did.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There was a time I was the one she looked for first in a room. Didn’t matter where we were—class, a crowded gym. Her eyes would always find mine first, like it was automatic.

By the time we were seventeen, I think I’d already lost that.

And then came graduation. We were eighteen when the four of us moved in together—me, the twins, and her. A decision that felt inevitable, like we were just continuing the story we started as kids.

New city. New school. New everything.

But her? She was still familiar. Still safe.

And then came that winter.

New Year’s Eve.

We'd gone back home for the holidays. My house was empty, the twins back home in Hyogo. (Y/n) was around, like she always was back then. And it just... happened.

I kissed her. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet.

It was messy, selfish—hungry in a way I hate admitting now.

I’d like to say it was love that made me do it. That I knew what I was feeling. But honestly? It was lust.

It was late. It was quiet. She was sitting on my bed, wearing my old hoodie, looking at me with those eyes she probably didn’t even realize were still full of hope.

And maybe it finally hit me how much she’d grown into herself. Not that she wasn’t always pretty—she was.

But now? Sitting there, close enough to touch, close enough to ruin—

Yeah. I wanted her.

Not in the right way. Not in the way she probably used to hope for.

I just... wanted her.

And because I was a dumb, horny teenager with the emotional range of a teaspoon, I gave in. I leaned in. I kissed her.

And the worst part?

She kissed me back.

Like she’d been waiting for it.

Like we were still kids and this was the ending everyone saw coming.

I let it get heated—too heated. Hands, breath, weight shifting—

I was ready to take it further.

I didn’t even stop to think if I should.

But she did. Thank God she did.

She pulled back. Said she couldn't go through with it. And I knew—I knew—it was because she had more sense than I did. That she wasn't looking for a casual hook-up.

And I was stupid to think for even a second that I was okay with that.

She didn’t look at me for the rest of the night—not because we were cuddling, but because she probably felt as conflicted as I did.

And that's how I knew I'd fucked up. Whatever she’d felt for me—the crush, the hope, the stupid, innocent dream of us—

I think that was the moment it died.

And I didn’t try to fix it.

Didn’t say sorry.

I just... pretended it never happened. Acted like it didn’t mean anything.

And she let me.

She kissed me like she’d always wanted to.

Then stopped like she’d never feel that way again.

And after that… she got closer to Atsumu.

And I pretended not to notice.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I think that’s when I started to fall for her. Like, really fall.

Not for the version of her that used to sit beside me with strawberry pocky in her backpack and stars in her eyes. Not the kid who used to wait for me at the gates. But for the woman she was becoming—sharper, warmer, fiercer. Still soft in all the best ways. Still kind. Still sweet. Still hers.

But no longer mine.

And sometimes—more often than I’d like to admit—I still think about that kiss.

It’s stupid, probably. It’s been years. And we never talked about it. Not once. But the memory’s still there. Lodged under my ribs like a splinter I never pulled out.

I don’t regret it. Not even for a second.

Looking back, it was stupid timing. And probably selfish of me to make a move on her the way I did. But for one second, I knew what it felt like to have her want me. And I’d take that over pretending it never happened.

Sometimes, I wonder what would've happened if she hadn't pulled away. If I’d kissed her like I meant it—for more than just a moment. If I’d been a little braver. A little less stupid. If I’d grown up a little faster.

Maybe she would've stayed. Maybe she would've looked at me the way she used to.

But I didn’t. And neither did she. And now we just pretend it never happened.

I don’t bring it up. I don’t want to make things weird. Don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

She’s moved on. I know she has. She’s got her heart set on someone else now.

She probably doesn’t even think about that night anymore.

…But I do.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We were nineteen when I first realized I was in love with her. Maybe I always was, in some far-off version of the timeline where I didn’t take her for granted.

Now we're almost about to graduate college and nothing’s changed.

She and Atsumu aren’t together, not officially. But they move like magnets now. They have their own inside jokes—the kind I’m not a part of. They cook together. Tease each other. Argue like it’s foreplay.

He’s softer around her. She’s brighter around him.

And it's not like I hate it. I like seeing her happy—I do. I just… miss being the one who got that version of her—miss being the one she used to look at like that.

And maybe that’s the part that’s hardest to explain. Because it's not just watching her fall for someone else. It’s watching her fall for someone I know.

Atsumu's one of my closest friends. And it’s not weird, exactly. Just… conflicting. Hard to explain.

It’s strange to see the way he looks at her when he thinks no one’s watching. Stranger still to think it’s the same way she used to look at me.

And I don’t think he even realizes it half the time. Or maybe he does and he just doesn’t know what to do with it. Because I know how Atsumu thinks. I know what scares him.

He’s terrified of commitment. Of getting it wrong. Of ruining something that matters. His pride gets in the way. I bet his career does, too.

He’s all or nothing, and he doesn’t know how to be subtle about it.

And maybe I’m not mad at him for that. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish he’d just get his shit together.

Say the damn words. Stop dancing around it. Stop wasting time she won’t ask him to hurry.

Because she won’t.

(Y/n) is soft. That’s just who she is. Too soft if you ask me. Too soft in a way that means she'll never ask for more. Never protect herself from hurt until it's too late.

She feels things deeply. Hopelessly. Quietly.

And I know that—because I experienced it first-hand.

I know how careful she can be with her love. How she shows it in the small things, like a green highlighter or a slice of melon pan. She doesn’t ask to be seen—not outright.

So yeah. Watching someone like her love someone like him?

It scares me a little. Because I know what it’s like to hold her feelings and not know what to do with them.

And I know what it’s like to lose them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

She sits across the living room now, reading her little romance novel while Atsumu rants about something stupid from the kitchen. Osamu’s half-asleep on the couch. I’m pretending to scroll on my phone.

But I’m not really paying attention—hard to when she's sitting right there.

She glances up—sensing it, like she always does. Catches me in the act.

Smiles.

And it still hits me in the gut. Every. Single. Time.

Because I remember a time when that smile was mine first. When I was the one she waited for after class. When I was the one who knew all her little routines and inside jokes and favourite types of endings in books.

She used to love me.

And I let it pass me by.

Now I love her.

Quietly. Constantly.

And I don’t know if she’ll ever look back.

But if she ever does…

This time, I’ll be ready.

[baddywronglegs]

England doesn’t have a North-South divide. But if it did have one, Cornwall would be in the North.

Now I’m not saying there isn’t a big geographical divide between like, Manchester and Canterbury, or that the country’s a homogeneous patchwork, what I’m saying is this divide isn’t north-south and thinking about it as such masks a lot of things.

Oh, and I am, for necessity of discussing this divide, going to be ignoring the Midlands. I hope you forgive me ignoring the deep cultural ties between Birmingham and Rutland.

Map Men made a video about the North-South divide in England (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENeCYwms-Cc&ab_channel=JayForeman), which focused on the line determined by Danny Dorling in 2008.

… Which isn’t a north-south divide. It’s a northwest-southeast divide, going up at more than 45 degrees – it’s more an east-west divide than it is a north-south. It also includes Wales in “the North” but we’ll get to that.

But it was a north-south divide he set out to find, so a north-south divide he sort of drew, excluding exclaves and enclaves where the metrics he was looking at would make that not a north-south divide.

Notably, several would seem to put the west country peninsula in “the North”… So what’s up with that?

(Dorling's full paper is here, and I recommend looking through the whole thing to see how he arrived at the divide he eventually concluded: https://www.dannydorling.org/wp-content/files/dannydorling_publication_id2938.pdf)

Anyway. This is what’s up with that:

This is a geological map of Great Britain (and the Isle of Man, which isn’t actually part of the UK or any of its constituent countries but I guess it’s here anyway.)

Here again, in the boundary between Jurassic and Triassic geology, is that diagonal line from the Humber to the Severn, but continuing past both. For convenience, here are those two lines superimposed on one another.

With Danny Dorling’s line (frequently following county boundaries or other administrative boundaries) in blue, and the geological divide in red.

One line was drawn in 2008, the other has existed over 200 million years.

This isn’t a coincidence – it’s the reason for the divide.

What made “the North” is the industrial revolution. And one thing that drove the industrial revolution was the mines: coal, iron, silver, tin, the rocks beneath our feet and the people who dreamed they were worth more than the people they sent into the dark to bring it into the light.

Towns grew around mines, from Walker to South Crofty, and more than just the mines defining them, it was the mines closing that would cement the divide.

“Byker Hill and Walker Shore, collier lads forever more”

“Cornish lads are fishermen and Cornish lads are miners too”

- Two folk songs about regional identity’s roots in its industry, from opposite ends of this dividing line

In the West Midlands, the Black Country didn’t earn that name with caviar; it, like Manchester and Leeds, reinvented itself when the industry collapsed: cities built in the brick ruins of the temples built to the exploitation of the workers, blackened by the smokes of the cremation of its labour industry. When the light catches the steel and glass just right, you can still see the ghosts.

Even the country life outside the cities is shaped by this geology: the terrain north-west of this line doesn’t lend itself to large, flat expanses of land for arable farming, and the divide is visible again when looking at agriculture:

With the majority of land south of the Jurassic-Triassic line being arable, mixed and market gardening, with a fair amount of cattle in the Cotswolds and Chilterns and along the north side of the Thames, and the majority north-west of it being cattle and sheep – which are almost absent from the south side of the divide with the exception of the Isle of Wight and therefore, ironically, Cowes.

Not all farming is the same, the yearly flow of labour and of marketable goods between livestock and arable having little in common beyond being intensive work out-of-doors and taking huge amounts of land to accomplish.

But one thing that also goes hand in hand with this is that sheep aren’t mostly farmed for their meat but for their wool, and what drove industrialisation in the Pennines was the steam-loom: the mechanisation and mass-production of wool.

(Incidentally, on this map arable farming and market gardening also correlate with several types of English traditional dance: Molly, Border an East Midlands and East Riding plough dances, which began as a way for seasonal farmhands to make ends meet by busking with menaces in the winter off-season, but that’s for a later Morris ramble).

But hang on, that puts Hull on the same side of the divide as Kent, not, for example, Liverpool. So what gives there?

The East Riding isn’t built on mining - a kid with a bucket and spade could find the water table in most of the county.

Hull, and other ports of Yorkshire with it, was built on whaling – and not many industries have collapsed harder than whaling. For once, the geography of the land has little impact on this, but the geography of the sea does:

Between England and the European continent is a shallower stretch of sea called Dogger Bank – named for the Dutch cod-fishing boats known as Doggers which fished on it. But shallow water isn’t great for whales. So where is there water good for whales?

Well, whalers from Great Britain would venture as far as the Antarctic ocean in search of whales, and often hunted off Greenland – but there was water closer to home where whales did and still do frequent:

(There is still whaling in the North Sea. Around 500 minke whales are killed by Norwegian whalers each year “in objection to” the global ban on commercial whaling.)

Outside of this, there’s also a divide between port cities dealing primarily in cargo or primarily in passengers, something which is somewhat evening out by one means or another, but here’s a current map of UK passenger ports and their passenger numbers:

Or at least circles sized to correspond to their passenger numbers - source with stats: https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/sea-passenger-statistics-all-routes-2021/sea-passenger-statistics-all-routes-2021

Compare this with a map of cargo ports by load:

Source with numbers: https://safety4sea.com/uk-ports-record-steady-performance-during-2018/

Generally showing passenger numbers getting lower the further you get from Dover, but not the same correlation with cargo (Plymouth and Holyhead both bucking this trend at a glance).

So, if not “The North” and “The South”, what name does make sense for this divide?

I propose “the South” be known as Lloegyr.

These names still exist: Domnonea still exists in Brittany both as a name for that same region from which Brittonic settlers came to Brittany and an area of Brittany named for them, and in Welsh, yr Alban is Scotland, Cymru is Wales and Lloegr is England.

Wales isn’t part of “the North”. “The North” is part of Wales.

[theegemini92]

So my previous post was about why people compare their real life relationships to these characters. I love the dialogue in the comments section but one

How do you people understand character arch and building? If being a HIGH LORD basically a ruler of a region not the highest status? They being WEALTHY is part of their character build and actually part of the conversations.

I said where are these girlies exes because they must be rich too so I’d take that and be in a manor locked up. Because I am not just comparing their attitudes.

Many of us have also said they’d like to live at the manor so we can read all day and give tam another room for his outburst lol now:

• Rhysand won’t have been able to crown feyre is he didn’t have a penny to his name.

• feyre won’t have chosen him back either. Going back into poverty let’s be real

• feyre has wealth now to not be bothered and empathetic to the plight of her husbands mothers people.

• she is wealthy now that she doesn’t have to hunt for food or cook or do laundry.

•she has a mansion and a studio now.

• she’s wealthy enough to be working and have a baby when many women don’t have help, bills and are only given two months maternity leave.

• feyres love for Tamlin also grew when he had the ability to love her for his love to also change the lives of HER FAMILY. Mind you not many men would’ve done that.

• which girl here will go and fetch her ring because her mother in law ordained it before her death?

• or wear clothing her mother in law left?

Let us stop only comparing JUST emotional things because it’s the easiest to grasp. If you find love and you are poor 9times out of 10 That relationship will fail. Love will not feed you. It will not clothe you.

These fictional men 90% of them are never broke. They are able to fulfill all the needs of the women they are with because they are royalty or something of that sort. I said this before Elain ain’t gonna go back to no struggle love because she’s Lucien’s mate? He has no land or title to his name and back in the human lands eating bland food. And I ain’t mad at her either. 🤣

When I compare characters I don’t pick and choose the parts I want to see and this is why the fandom is divided. No one wants to admit Rhys is very very much as flawed as Tamlin. They are fictional fantastical characters. We all crave that love and understanding we see but we will all never get everything. My fiancé is no Tamlin. He hates reading and calls me crazy for loving Tamlin. Do u compare them? Hell no… tamlin can shapeshift he can’t 🤣 if he could lord have mercy.

Realistically:

• you will love him until he cannot provide what you are use to. It’s normal. No one decides they want to struggle in life. You are the one who chooses your own partner and if you fell for a Tamlin and go in for a Rhys says a lot about you and your mental state of comparing characters we all love and adore.

•many real life actors are so good yet in reality they are mean a cruel to their own staff.

• some people can’t even afford therapy. The whole world isn’t as developed. They don’t even know what therapy is. Feyre was given ample including Rhys D 😂

• some have all the wealth and many women will stay without love to give their kids something better or themselves.

A man’s glory a woman can inherit but never the other way around. Feyre has inherited Rhys crown when she could’ve had the curse breaker because Rhys is rich and has that title.

Don’t come at me making it seem that you have said something clever. There’s always other opinions outside what you think it’s right in your own mind.

[randomness-is-my-order]

You have been doing a lot of mdzs meta lately do you think wwx would’ve went out of his way to help wen Qing and her family if he wasn't indebted to wn?

Personally think he wouldn’ve been like lwj obviously understanding it’s wrong but not being able to do anything for them

ooh, nice question! it’s a tricky one because alot of the plot itself would change by not having wen qing and wen ning meet wei wuxian. would jc stay coreless? would wei wuxian’s core be melted by wen zhuliu regardless and would he still be overpowered by wen chao and thrown in the burial mounds?

i’m gonna assume these plot points are fulfilled in some alternate manner or that they are changed, but in a way that the net outcome remains more or less the same. i’m also gonna assume that he’s still met wen ning at the archery competition and that is the only interaction he’s had with the wen siblings, because that actually doesn’t take away from the main idea of your question.

and so my answer to this is a resounding YES. yes, he would still go out of his way to help the wens. i say this because wei wuxian advocating for the wens wasn’t just about debts—infact, i’ve covered how at the time when wen qing came to seek his help, the debts between the two of them were considered to be fulfilled [when wei wuxian had bid her farewell, carrying jiang cheng on his back, wen qing had told him this: “no matter how this war ends, we do not owe each other anything from now on. our debts are cleared.”]—but it was about doing the right thing. wei wuxian has consistently been someone to act in matters where he thinks something wrong is taking place, regardless of his personal connections to the victims. he took a brand for mianmian whom he shared a superficial relationship with at best. he offered to carry lan wangji when no one wanted to ruffle any feathers at the indoctrination camp. he tried to help su she from drowning despite not knowing the guy. he went out of his way to help wen ning despite the wens being established as the asshole sect by then anyway. when he was resurrected, he was willing to risk bring revealed so he could help the lan juniors whom he met that very day. i could honestly go on for quite a bit more but i’ll stop. because the point i’m trying to illustrate is that wei wuxian helping the wen remnants was tied significantly more to his own morals and values and about doing what was right than repaying any debts.

as such, if he encountered wen qing the way he did at the end of book three, and she made her case and asked for his help, he would atleast consider her words and once he gets the stories straight, still do what he did in canon. perhaps, people would be even more baffled—especially jiang cheng—when it came to his motivation behind helping them because they could not fathom him going to such lengths for people he had no connections with and were his opponents during the war but again, wei wuxian would not care, like he didn’t in canon. it’s not like the sect leaders understood the whole debt-angle in canon, anyway. and i honestly saw it more of a bargaining chip wei wuxian was using to atleast get jc to be more sympathetic towards the wens and not a commentary on his personal motivation for why he was so staunchly behind the wens.

also, i think this perspective of wei wuxian about wen qing would help immensely:

“The sins of the Wen Clan are not ours to bear. Wei Ying, don’t look at me like that. Every debt has its own debtor. I’m the Chief Officer here in Yiling, but I was ordered to assume the post. I am a doctor, and I have never killed anyone—much less have the blood of your Jiang Clan on my hands!”

That was the truth. Wei Wuxian had never heard of Wen Qing killing anyone, only that people hoped she’d take over for their regions. Wen Qing was one of the rare Wens who acted and behaved normally. Her reputation had always been decent, and sometimes she could even put in a good word for others with Wen Ruohan.

wen qing, too, had a reputation that preceded herself and wei wuxian looked upon this favourably or atleast, neutrally. he would 100% still help her once he confirmed things for himself and would be sympathetic towards the wen remnants.

[orbital-inclination]

Any little tidbits from Molten!Dreams you’re willing to share?

Sure! Let’s talk about Molten!Dream’s Dreamtale. Long Post Incoming!!

The village and the Great Tree (the Tree of Emotion, but I’m calling it the Great Tree here because I think it sounds better) were surrounded by a vast old growth forest. In summer, the climate surrounding the Great Tree was dry and hot. In winter, it was wet, rainy and chilly, but snow was incredibly rare. It was not unheard of for forest fires to happen here.

Prior to the Apple Incident Molt and Rem never went so far that they couldn’t see the Great Tree. To them, the extent of Dreamtale is/was a massive, endless forest. If the forest had an outer boundary, they never saw it, only heard "unbelievable" tales of it from traveling merchants who insisted their world had an end to it. crazy talk. (and then Nightmare/Rem started reading. turns out, those merchants were telling the truth! it still felt an outlandish tall tale, but perhaps a little more believable outlandish tall tale.)

There were some aspects of the original Dreamtale that I don’t particularly care about; Neil the Cat, may or may not exist in the Molten!Dreams Timeline, if he does exist, he missed his chance to mentor, watch over or influence Dream in anyway (fate adverted!) because the brothers fled in the immediate aftermath. (more on this later. i want to make a comic about it.) The Tree of Life, the Tree of Magic and by extension, Lanny and Quetzalcoatl, aren’t relevant to Moltendreams, so I don’t seen them existing within Moltendreams’ canon. I think their involvement would be... whats the word? It doesn't make sense to my brain. They don't fit.

At some point I plan to revise Reapertale to better fit Moltendream’s multiverse. I say this now because I rather lean into Reapertale than use the Tree of Life. (the Tree of Magic feels a bit redundant on this note. why do we need a Tree of Magic when we have Creators? or even Ink, in some case. in Molten Dreams, Ink is a Muse of Creation rather than a being that actively creates AUs but my point still stands. etc. etc.)

The Apple incident was preceded by a string of misfortune.

The village was struck by a drought the previous winter. And the following spring and summer were unusually hot. Crops withered under the blistering sun. Food reserves plummeted. Wells dried up. Things got tense.

Despite the drought and the fires, the Great Tree was unaffected. While trees in the surrounding forest and in the village turned brown, the Great Tree was green. It bloomed flowers in spring while whole fields struggled to sprout. And when crops failed to produce anything that summer, the apples of the Great Tree were plump and ripe. The contrast between the immortality of the Great Tree and the fragility of life within the village, seeded resentment and bitterness...

Tensions between Dream and Nightmare, and the villagers, grew as a result of it. But that is neither the end nor the beginning of that story.

On the Village itself:

You’ll have to excuse the sketchiness, I haven’t drawn in a while, I’ve spent the last month and half trying to pick up my tablet only for my brain to tell me I’m apparently allergic to it. is the floor lava? noooo my TABLET IS LAVA!!! Any-who, moving on!

Notes:

Local architecture uses geometric shapes with lots of sharp angles and straight lines.

Windows are tall and narrow. No glass is used.

General construction materials will typically include stone, clay, hardened mud, and stucco. Wood is used sparingly.

Originally I played with the idea of the villagers using thatch for their roofs but on second thought, decided that idea didn’t fit the aesthetic.

i have tentative plans for the monsters who lived in the village to thematically follow mythology from the same regions I'm taking inspiration from for the architecture.

real world inspiration takes a lot from ancient Armenian, Roman and Mesopotamian architecture. Unfortunately, i am bad at drawing buildings and actively avoid it, but in the future i want to lean into this more. at least visually.

[queenwille]

the audacity of @un-women to make so many posts about the women of Lebanon, but not a single one about the women of israel, or much less about the 13 hostages is a total crime.

as a Jewish woman with both an Israeli and Argentinian citizenships, two jewish communities who were seriously hurt by Hezbollah crimes, i am deeply outraged by this.

seems like being an international voice didn’t make you feel obligated to do some proper research before talking, so let me do it for you. unlike israeli women, no, not all of lebanon is under attack. there are very specific regions that the lebanese government (+military) lost it’s hold on to the terror group of hezbollah MANY YEARS ago. hezbollah completely rules the region and started an ongoing, unprovoked attack on israel on october 8th, 2023. long story short? the israeli and lebanese states aren’t at war at all, actually. the thing is that the lebanese government basically doesn’t mess with hezbollah, like at all either, so they’ve being bombing the israeli north completely unhinged, since october ‘23, until israel attacked back and now y’all are so worried that israel is being too aggressive as always. here’s a map of lebanon and it’s regions (strong green for hezbollah):

as you may see, all of the border with israel is hezbollah, so after the war in 2006, after a ceasefire was declared, useless unifil soldiers were stationed there as well. obviously it didn’t bother hezbollah from making bunkers literally everywhere, under civilian homes, mostly to hide the craziest amount of ammo you can think of, but also to infiltrate israel and hurt civilians. those are the targets, idk why they’d live over it.

and as to the my jewish-argentinian community? it might have been over 30 years since the terror attacks, but hezbollah even got there and murdered so many and my community never recovered. do you even know about those?

so, @un-women, why won’t you call for the lebanese government & military to get hezbollah under control for the sake of both lebanese AND israeli women? instead of continuously addressing everyone’s suffering, but israeli women, who are also being hurt, killed, raped, denied of basic needs, attacked, displaced, starved and more?

israeli women under attack in the last few hours (7PM local time):

those are about 55km+- down and, say, 100km+- long. many have been displaced for over a year, those who are home, mostly those who are next to the sea, are in the shelters right now as i write this. i’d ask if jewish blood is any different, but many of the women of northern israel are actually arab; druze, muslim and christian, so i’ll just ask if israeli blood any different to you, @un-women? speak the fuck up already.

[milk3ad]

why i think there is so much unsympathetic patton content

okay so i read @val-va2 ‘s post (link here https://www.tumblr.com/val-va2/781496841749528576/i-need-to-get-it-off-my-chest-why-do-people-make) and it made me think more about something that’s been on my mind for a hot sec.

tldr (but please read): a lot of patton’s character flaws come from christian guilt / traditionalism, making him feel similar of those who espouse harmful backwards (and certain) christian views. many people have been personally negatively affected by these views and these people and identify patton with that pain, which is why patton is often portrayed unsympathetically. however, patton is just a part of someone, thomas, who struggling through the same things many of us did.

up top, when i talk about christianity i mean the specific backwards, traditional, and harmful aspects of it. there are many good christians and good christian beliefs. this is also not exclusive to christianity or even region, however, this is what i can recognize and am familiar enough with to talk about. all of this is just my opinion.

for some personal context, i watched sasi casually from sometime in the first season, but didn’t join the fandom til late 2022 (ik it was a strange time.) patton used to be my favorite cause i felt like he was just the most likable and kind, and while now i’m a hard core roman stan, patton reminds me of me in middle / highschool. back then, i struggled with my sexuality, grew up catholic, and had bad morality based ocd lol.

so back to my point, the first unsympathetic patton tag is after dwit, and that makes sense to me cause that’s when it’s first important that character thomas grew up christian. the religious guilt theming presented through remus, virgil, and patton in that episode is something that carries through all of patton’s character. he struggles a lot with christian guilt as thomas’s morality, and obvi remus is the antithesis of that, so trust as someone who’s been through this, that’s terrifying.

all that’s to say, in svsr (and svsr looking back) all of this connects with a lot of patton’s arguments are reminiscent of some the christian church’s perfectionist (and backwards) behaviors. many people, including myself, have struggled to varying degrees under these beliefs, especially queer people, who make up most of the fandom.

now, patton is a manifestation of thomas’s morality (duh), meaning he would have christian guilt ingrained into him as a part of his function. but the way i see it, he is the part of thomas struggling with those ideas. however, i feel as if the way he comes across (specially dwit and svsr) is that he is an enforcer of those ideas. it’s similar to the way an authority figure or society would push these ideals on kids… because that’s where patton learned it from. i think the key distinction here, though, is that patton isn’t enforcing these ideas on other ppl, because the sides are all thomas. he’s advocating for that part of thomas who still struggles with christian guilt into adulthood, which he’s allowed to do however misguided. i think some people either feel that patton is an enforcer or can identify him as similar to someone of that nature (this depends on how much autonomy you headcannon the sides have from thomas but that’s a separate issue.) and as said earlier, many have trauma from those people and those ideals which patton has come to represent. much of the fandom is queer and has been told they are wrong or bad by these same people. and there are obvi way more reasons the church is harmful and spreads harmful messaging.

i think it’s easy for many to draw the connection from patton being shaped by christian guilt to those in their life who have been shaped buy it in the same and have hurt them because of it. however, how i see it is that patton is the part of you that was hurt by it that still struggles with those same ideals. he has good intentions but has been taught, like many of us, things that can be very harmful. so, that’s why i think people write so much unsympathetic patton. he has traits that can be harmful (like any other sides) but the way he’s portrayed in a way similar to people who have been personally harmful to many.

now it’s just other that or he’s an easy target cause he was the nicest at first… or many i’m crazy and there are way better reasons.

so yeah, this is all not to say i don’t read unsympathetic patton, i do in service of roman angst tbh… but that’s goes into another conversation of how fandom tweaks characters based on personal bias and culture and that’s a long post for another day. if you read this long, let’s be moots, and you’re iconic !!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

may i please have the next bit of there is something rotten in the commonwealth of pennsylvania by calliam shakespeare? also, since i'm already all up your asks, i probably always read too much into your oc naming habits, but can i get confirmation on intentional vs. divine accident re: when they ask me who i am... meera being the mirror buck holds up to realize something is not right... meera. mirror. tbh ny/nj dropped-r accents have spread into the mid-atlantic region, so mirror really can sound like "meer-rah" a lot of the time around here. you are 100% in my head, but are you also in my backyard? both is good. aa anon.

I'm giggling at this. Thank you! And hahaha - you definitely were reading more into it than intended. Sorry! I had a list of names open for a different fic, where I needed one of a specific background, saw Meera, thought it fit this character.

500 for 🔍:

---

He seizes with terror. Like his worst fear is coming true. Like the worst thing that could ever possibly happen to him is happening. 

They're gonna need you.

He’s dying. This man is dying. Buck doesn't know why. He doesn’t even know his name. 

I love you, kid.

Buck jolts awake in the back of the car. He gasps. Like he is the one who died in the dream. The sudden sound alerts Maddie and Athena, who both twist to look at him. The car is parked. They’re waiting somewhere. 

“Are you okay?” Maddie asks, face contorted with concern.

Buck nods shallowly.

“Weird dream,” he mumbles. 

Buck thinks. It didn’t feel like a dream. At least not the kind he’s used to. It felt like a memory. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “We’re just at the airport parking now. We’re hoping their phones will reach us if they’re in-state. I’m guessing they’ll land somewhat soon.”

“There’s a flight landing from LAX in forty minutes,” Athena explains. 

“Hey, uh, Maddie?” He asks.

“Yeah?” She asks. 

“You said things were hard right before I disappeared,” Buck remembers. 

Another look exchanged between Maddie and Athena. What are they hiding from him?

“I did,” Maddie admits. 

“What happened?” Buck asks. “Did something happen to me? Or… Someone close to me?”

Maddie swallows. “Are you asking about something specific? Do you remember something?” 

Buck shrugs. “Like I said, weird dream.”

“What did you dream about, Buck?” Athena asks.

“Why-why won’t you guys just tell me?” He asks. 

“Nothing terrible happened to you,” Maddie says. “It was a hard time for everyone on your team, and… And for Athena and I. It was just a difficult time and you tend to take everyone else’s struggles onto your shoulders.”

It’s not that Buck thinks Maddie is lying exactly. He doesn’t think she’s being dishonest. He just thinks she’s avoiding details. And he doesn’t know why. Does she also think he’s so fragile he can’t handle it? He can. Isn’t this the best time to tell him someone is dead? When he can’t remember how much he must have loved them? 

“Okay,” Buck mumbles. He feels bad, but now he trusts her just a little bit less. 

🔍

Right on schedule, a little over forty-minutes later, all three of their phones start buzzing with incoming messages. Whoever couldn’t reach them from California has landed in Harrisburg. For Buck, that mostly looks like frantic texts and voicemails from the number he had called from Baltimore. Eddie. That’s what they said his name is. Eddie. 

Buck scrolls through them, opting not to listen to the voicemails in a car with Maddie and Athena so close. They feel private, somehow.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 5.0 - Conspiracies of the Nether Regions

MIKO

[VOICEMAIL: Miko, this is grandma. I don’t know how you knew about the water heater or the balance on the checking account, but you need to un-know it, missy! Stop snooping! The house is fine, and I will figure it out. Oh, and your mother is here for a few weeks, but she’s sober. DO NOT COME HOME.]

Miko tucks her phone into her pocket and storms into the library. Leila Ojo was a piece of work. Stoop snooping? Was she under the influence? Had her grandmother forgotten what kind of child she raised? 

Stubborn old lady.

And letting Miko’s mom crash and saying it was all “fine”? Bullshit. Her grandmother had been saying that ever since her daughter left Miko in a phone booth in the dead of winter with a promise to be right back.

Spoiler Alert: Miko's mom didn’t come back for three weeks.

Double Spoiler Alert: It was not “fine.” 

She reaches the second floor of the library and tries to settle in for her weekly TA Planning meeting with Hande and Emmett. But all she can think about is winter in Newcrest and the fact that if her mother is back on her bullshit (which she always is), then Leila's paycheck will disappear faster than a rat up a drainpipe.

“Hey, do you want to table this for later? You don’t look so good,” Emmett says.

“I look fine,” Miko snaps. She doesn’t. She knows this. But being called out on it is the worst feeling. Her UTI was back with a vengeance—probably payback for all those times she took the Watcher's name in vain. “Don’t try to change the subject! The new digital submission system is gonna be a beast to teach everyone, and I am not getting stuck with that job.”

“And you think we should?” Hande scowls, “What is your deal? You do projects without us. You screw us at every turn, and—”

“Okay!” Emmett holds up his hands. “Why don’t we just calm down? The fair thing to do is…”

Miko doesn’t hear the rest of what he says. Her bladder feels like it’s going to burst, and she’s so exhausted she can barely keep her head up.

“...How about that? We can all be team players,” he finishes.

“No, we can’t,” Hande glares. “Team players don’t sabotage everyone by changing the office hours schedule without saying anything.”

The heat hits Miko’s cheeks, but not from the ache spreading through her nether regions like wildfire. She's embarrassed. Hande is right, and frankly, the whole schedule adjustment would have gone smoother if she clued just them in and asked for help. But the need to do everything herself was pathological. 

And getting called out after failing was her worst nightmare.

As if to prove this is her waking horror, the voice in her head pipes up: "At least now you're talking sense. Seriously, Miko, what ails you?"

Panicked because the voice sounds so real, Miko stumbles to her feet. “Shut up!” she cries. Hande and Emmett lurch back, staring at her like she’s lost her mind.

And what is she going to say?

She’s yelling at herself because she’s having a breakdown?

“I’ll do it. I’ll teach the new system. I don’t care. I have to go,” Miko yelps.

One heinous trip to the restroom later, and it’s clear her next stop needs to be the clinic. She nearly crashes into Alice on her way out of the library.

“Hey! Is your meeting already over?” she chirps, “I’m glad I caught you.”

“I’m kind of busy, Alice, I just—”

“I had an idea about the Secret Society. I’m on my way to meet Vlad after his class, but can I tell you real quick?”

Miko tries to hold back a sigh. Dating wasn’t bad, but she’s seen this pattern before. Alice’s whole personality became about Jeffery in undergrad, and now here she was, moon-eyed over someone that Miko didn’t even know anything about!

Not that she hadn’t tried.

The only thing on the internet about Vladislaus Straud was a mind-numbing number of posts in r/Tea and Treachery. Fucking lunatic. 

"You should be scared of him," the voice says. It sounds so confident that Miko startles.

“What’s wrong?” Alice leans forward.

“N-nothing. I’m busy," Miko slides around her and heads for the door, "I can’t worry about your project right now; I have to go.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 1 of 5)

Want to read the entire chapter at once? Click here.

[fennelwrites]

Part 2 of reader who can talk to Pokémon please!!!!!!!

(a/n: HI HELLO I'M NOT DEAD i say despite having said exactly that last time oops

but um. yeah idk i wanted to write again and i had the bug so i'm here now oopsie! idk if i'll ever have a consistent schedule again but i did finish something for the first time in a while so here you get Content

also. thank you all for your patience with me. i am sorry it has taken me literal years to get to requests but i promise you they are in progress and i have not given up on them, so i hope you haven't either!! i still love this little scrinkle scrunkle and i hope he hasn't faded from your consciousnesses yet

anyway enjoy the fic uwu)

You leaned against the smooth surface of the Mossy Rock, waiting for a familiar head of blond hair to appear. Around you, the Buneary gave you a wide berth, but you heard them gossipping about you from afar. You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore them, even as they snarked about Volo’s outfit.

Your visits to the Mossy Rock had almost become weekly occurrences at this point. At first, you thought he might not come back, but lo and behold, he’d arrived with his Pokemon in tow. Now, you spent most of your time here. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was something that drew you to the place. Drew you to Volo. Perhaps it was the fact that you’d felt understood for the first time in years, the first time you’d felt like that weight was lifted off of your shoulders.

You knew it was a little foolish, but you hoped Volo felt that way too. 

Sure enough, a few moments after you’d gotten yourself settled in the grass, the gentle, delicate chirps of a Togekiss heralded Volo’s arrival. He smiled at you as he approached, the angelic Pokemon flying low over his head. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” he greeted, sitting down next to you. “I wasn’t,” you replied, smiling softly. “How was the trip?”

As time passed, you talked about all sorts of things, from the weather in the Highlands to the Starly passing overhead. Volo had made a little home for himself just outside the Obsidian Fieldlands, far enough away from Jubilife Village that he wouldn’t be seen but close enough to take advantage of the region’s naturally fair weather. He’d given you the rough location so that you could come see him when you next had time off, an outing you eagerly looked forward to.

Ever so slowly, the sun made its way across the sky, and it painted the Heartwood in soft dusty pinks by the time you came to a natural pause in conversation. All around, you could hear gentle whispers and chirps of the forest Pokemon, going about their lives with their usual hustle and bustle. There were many of them, but you’d gotten used to tuning them out so they weren’t overwhelming.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Volo’s slate gray eyes locked onto you, and you turned. “Something the matter?”

Volo was silent for a moment before looking out to the forest. “You’re hearing them, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “Nothing special. Just…them going about their lives, you know?”

“Right…” Volo trailed off, finding something transfixing about the dirt.

You furrowed your brow, looking at Volo with concern. “Is everything okay?”

He didn’t respond right away; for a moment, you worried you’d overstepped some unspoken boundary. Then, finally, he spoke. “Did…my Pokemon ever say anything about me?”

This caught your attention as well as Togekiss’s; the avian Pokemon chirped once, looking at her Trainer with a concerned look that matched your own. You hummed, thinking about it. “Well… I always remember them being very grateful when you made them dinner.”

Volo laughed, the sound a little bitter as it left his lips. “That’s it?”

“I can’t remember right now, I’m sorry,” you replied, suddenly feeling quite sheepish. 

“No, no, it’s alright…” Volo sighed, looking back at you. “I was just curious to know…how they felt about me.”

There was something nervous in his eyes, something desperate. You recognized it from his expression at the temple, when he shouted questions into the silent heavens. This expression wasn’t nearly as intense, but it carried the same undercurrent; Volo wanted to be seen. Recognized.

No, more than that. Volo wanted, desperately, to have someone care about him.

You sat up, looking at Togekiss. “Well, let’s ask, then,” you said simply, drawing Volo’s attention. “Togekiss, how do you feel about Volo?”

Almost immediately, Togekiss launched into an animated spiel about her Trainer, almost too quickly for you to keep up. You were able to catch most things, though; she talked at length about how well Volo cared for her and her teammates, how passionate he was about everything he did, how he spoke, how he walked, everything. Volo gazed at her with wide eyes, darting back to you for interpretation every so often. You did your best to translate everything she said, trying to catch sentence fragments and missed words as much as you could.

Finally, Togekiss tired herself out, and you and she both let out an exhausted sigh. Volo simply stared between the two of you, not saying anything for a long while. Then, finally, he looked at Togekiss with wide, watery eyes.

“You…really think all that?”

Togekiss’s firm nod needed no translation; she nuzzled up against her Trainer with a soft coo. Volo held his Pokemon tightly, and you saw a few tears glistening in the early evening light. You watched the scene with a smile on your face, a warm feeling blossoming in your heart. To use your ability for good like that… It felt fulfilling. Inspiring. Like it was more of a blessing than a curse.

Volo turned back to you, his eyes still glistening with a few unshed tears. “Thank you… I’d been doubting how my Pokemon felt about me recently. I wasn’t sure they actually liked me, or if they wanted to be my allies…” He smiled at Togekiss again, who chirped happily. “Now I know, though.”

You nodded. “I’m happy to help. Besides, seeing you smile like that makes it worth it.”

Volo’s face flushed, and he glanced to the side. “Oh, surely you don’t think that…”

You shook your head. “I’m serious.” And you were; you hadn’t thought about it for a bit, but you’d only ever seen a real, genuine smile from Volo once or twice. Almost everything prior to the temple had been behind a mask, a façade designed to keep you guessing. But this…this was real.

You didn’t think you’d ever tire of it.

Volo gazed up at the sky, one of those rare genuine smiles gracing his lips. The sun had just about set, and the sky seemed to glow with soft purples and blues. “It’s getting late,” he mused. “I should be heading back… And they’ll probably be wondering where you are, too.” 

You nodded, going to stand up before offering a hand. He took it, his grasp firm and his smile one of renewed confidence. You smiled right back at him. “Same time tomorrow?”

Volo nodded firmly, and Togekiss chirped happily.

“Same time tomorrow.”

[callistocalavarni]

Wish me luck ❥ 𓄲 𓄴 

I have found love in a new reality and will be planning to shift there for a very long time.

I already posted this in Red Takami's shifting discord sever in the methods channel, but I also wanted to post it here because I feel like i've been neglecting my tumblr. When I first joined shifttumblr, the inital introduction I had to it was Leydenkilgore's profile. She is a saint. Even though I have shifted before I unfortunately have fallen into a slump do to personal issues and haven't shifted as much as I use to. I also fell out of love with a lot my old dr's; Though I hope they intrest me again later in my life. Leydens post about expermenting with methods stuck out to me, as i've never really thought about doing that. I wasn't familer with any of the methods she had talked about as I just make it up as I go when I shift but from here on out I will be changing my routine. In her post she talked about watching a film that helped create a new method. I read the google doc she made and now I have a plan on a new shifting routine. (I recommend reading the google doc if you're interested it is linked in her post, which I have linked earlier in this post.)

i’m experimenting. I didn’t try and shift last night like I said I was. Last night I FINALLY decided on a reality of which I wanted to shift to. (i swear everyday I think of a new dr; i’m trying to fix that) I had this problem were I would over script for my dr’s…. and then never ending up trying shifting there because of multiple reasons; I didn’t feel the connection I felt with it when I first thought of it, or I got really motivated to script every little detail instead of actually shifting… So i’m doing something new. I’m not going to script at all for the dr I’m shifting to and just trust my subconscious. I know the general vibe of what I want and who i’ll be but other then that it’s up to the right side of my brain. I’m going to try the hypnagogic method tonight and tomorrow, then i’ll be trying the somewhere in time method for two days after that. Then after that I will be trying a combined method of both; Hypnagogic Time method. ( i have tweaked it to my liking ) I have the intention to shift with each experiment. And i’ll log my dr experiences in my journals ( that i script into all my drs ) and if I ever come back or shift to a parallel reality like this one I will share them! I am also laying down on the floor for this method because every time I go and shift laying on my hardwood floor I always shift. I don’t know what it is about it that makes me shift, but if you want to switch up your shifting routine I definitely recommend it.

note; Lumari is a country I scripted, Kirasia being on of its regions.

I've always thought about shifting but didn't have a name for it. It was in the back of my mind since I was a kid; then it blew up on tiktok and then I started to get more into it, I just always felt that there was a possiblity of something like it; mainly because I wanted something like shifting to be real. Then, a couple years ago I did it for the first time and that made me full send into it. I mostly shifted to space dr's because space was what I was most interested in. I was huge on shows like farscape, cowboy bebop and the x-files. Before life in my or hit the fan and became really shitty, I was shifting to my space stalker dr non-stop. And then a bunch of family issues arose. And that's when the shifting slump started. I was having severe mental break-downs everyday, was extremely exhausted and just taxing to be around; I would blow up at people for the smallest things and my family would do the same to me. Thankfully, everything died down. My life gradually went back to normal, my family became safe to be around again and shifting just wasn't on my mind as much as it use to be. But now, it is. Since then, I haven't really thought about shifting to my space stalker dr but in the back of my mind a new idea popped up. I will maybe post about Lumari more, I have made one post showing the map but that's about it. I have also shifted there a couple of weeks ago but as a... guy?? Which I did not intend to do. I stayed there for a couple of days and shifted back on accident. Since then I haven't tried to shift. But I intend to tonight. ( as a girl lol ) Again I haven't made an indepth script for this dr because I do not want to lose the spark I have for it.

My plan for tonight is meditating, laying on my floor with my headphones and listenting to music that reminds me of my Kirasia reality. Then, focus on my breathing and think about slow calm moments in my reality. I have the intention to become aware of my dr while I am looking out of my bedroom gazing onto the mountains.

[ask-nurse-curly]

[ encouraged by many, curly made an attempt to check in on anya. it went swimmingly :) ]

transcript under the cut.

Hey Curly

I’m not sure when you’ll see this, but when you can, I think we need to discuss getting me on some sleep medication. Those won’t react negatively to the nausea medication, will they?

Hello

Can’t sleep either?

I’ll double check the contents tomorrow, but they shouldn’t, no.

Yeah, it could be a one time thing but if it becomes a chronic problem, I should address it sooner.

Why can’t you sleep? Reading? Nerd.

Very prudent of you. :-) I’ll let you know tomorrow.

Hah, you could say that. Cleaning out the older stuff from my inbox, because not having enough space for messages is apparently a problem one can have.

Ohh mister popular over here.

Anything exciting yet?

…You don’t want to know, trust me.

I never understood that statement, because now I just want to know even more. But I won’t push if you want to keep them a surprise. Chances are I’ll hear about them anyways.

Fine, if you want to know — and I did warn you — it concerns my nether regions. Among other things.

Again.

So, please don’t be surprised if it reaches you.

Did you answer them…?

Actually! I don’t wish to know that information. Keep your privates private, private.

Captain!

What about you, anything…PG?

Nurse!

Well, no one is asking about my nether regions, so I’m counting that as a win.

I’m not sure what rating I would place the messages I’m receiving.

That is definitely a win.

…What are you receiving?

If you wish to share.

Does it matter if I wish to share?

I’m just… Being bombarded with the idea that something is terribly wrong.

Of course it matters.

I don’t want to push you, you know that.

Yeah, I guess.

I’m sorry.

I feel like I said something wrong, but I don’t know what.

No, you didn’t do anything. Like I said, I’m being bombarded. Everyone seems to have an opinion about how I’m doing.

Yeah, I’m…getting the same impression.

I receive a lot of uh, encouragement to talk to you.

As if we don’t see each other all the time every day, right?

Yeah.

I guess my tides have turned and people want to focus on my problem now. I didn’t even know I had problems.

I keep getting told that I need to make sure I have someone watching my back. I don’t see how they don’t realize that’s what my crew is for.

…Do you think they know something we don’t?

I don’t know how, just…

Why would so many people lie about something like this?

I think they think they know something we don’t. The way they talk, they act like they have all the facts. Like any of this is easy.

Yeah, that’s true.

You’re probably right.

I am right.

How could they possibly know more? I feel like we’d have heard if another member of the crew were talking to them. The way they snitch on us, I’d be surprised.

Right. Sorry.

…You would tell me if something were going on, right?

There’s nothing going on.

Okay.

Sorry, I just

I worry. They keep saying I’m missing something.

Yeah, well, I’m not sure what you could be missing.

But I’m glad to know you trust the word of strangers over mine.

That’s not what I mean at all.

At the end of the day, I am your nurse. It’s my job to look after you.

And I’m your boss, so when I say there’s nothing wrong, I would hope you would believe me.

Right.

I'm sorry.

I'll get you those meds tomorrow. Or I can leave them in the same spot, if you prefer.

I think leaving them by my mug would be best.

As you wish.

[ariadosanon]

Off Screen Post - [Reunion Circle]

Tw: PDA, mentions of a toxic relationship, forgiving toxic behavior. Please heed the Tws.

Agate Village was one of the last places in Orre that still sustained any kind of plant or Pokémon life.

Hidden away on a high mountain, it had been all but spared from the devastating unchecked Industrial Revolution that brought the region to dust. The town was primarily populated by elders and their Pokémon— a reward that many took for reaching old age in Orre. Living in close proximity to the Relic Stone would ease the stress of their eventual journey back into the flow of time.

Victoria was sitting under a tree overlooking the village, far away from any other people. She rest her sharp chin on her knee, watching as a family reunited with their grandparents for a visit.

She was here to meet someone, too.

A brief feeling of dread washed over her, an oppressive force in the wind. She turned her gaze, watching as Professor Snakewood emerged from behind the tree she had been resting under.

Victoria frowned, looking him in the eyes as she spoke:

“You look tired, [Ibrahim.]” she said, placing her hands on the grass.

“I am beyond tired.” He sighed, “May I sit with you?”

She hesitated for a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

Victoria had expected to be able to be mad at Snakewood, at least for the beginning of their conversation. But he looked different now. His eyes were full of sorrow, his eternal smug smile was gone— He hadn’t come to boast of his return.

Snakewood took a seat with his legs crossed, close to Victoria, but not right next to her. Silence hung in the air for a while as they sat, watching over the happy inhabitants of the calm village.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Victoria.” [Ibrahim] said, turning his attention fully to her. “I went too far. I didn’t just hurt myself, I hurt you. With my words, with my actions.” He grimaced.

“Even before I edited myself to lose all sense of fear, I wasn’t being a good partner. Not at all. After I started gene editing myself I— it was all about work. About that goal.” He said. “I made fun of your work, of your passion for agonies. I didn’t regard the things you valued as important unless I too valued them.” He admitted.

“I even ignored you on Enamorus’s Eve, even though I knew that holiday was special to you. I didn’t listen when you set your boundaries about— Great Hoops— it’s so stupid to even say now — about being made ‘perfect.’” He picked at the grass anxiously, his brow immensely furrowed.

“You didn’t deserve any of that.” The Professor finished softly. “You‘re wonderful. You’re more than perfect. You’re…” he looked down, unable to look her in the eyes as he spoke. “You’re the reason I stayed sane. I needed to apologize. I needed to at least give you that.” [Ibrahim] finished with a long, shaky sigh.

Victoria looked away, seeming to think about what he had said. Her expression was unreadable as she mulled it over, hugging her knee to her chest. She had been hurt. Everything he said was true. She hadn’t expected him to realize what he did in the final weeks of their relationship to make her feel so miserable. Much less take accountability for those things.

She slowly reached out, taking his shadow-stained hand in her own, scaly one.

Snakewood immediately teared up, hiding his face with the hand that was still free.

“I know what it’s like for power to blind you. Especially when Legendary Pokémon get involved.” She said, squeezing his hand gently.

“I’m willing to give you another chance, [Bibi.] I am- but you need to listen to me. You need to change.”

“I have changed.” He promised, turning his whole body to her. “Believe me, more than you know, I have changed.”

“Alright, you can show it then, yeah?” She said, taking his other hand and pulling him even closer.

They embraced tightly, a long groan of relief escaping Victoria’s mouth. Even after setting her new boundaries, she couldn’t hide that she was beyond overjoyed to have her boyfriend back. Snakewood nuzzled into her cheek, giving her soft kisses and smiling happily.

“I missed you.”

[shivapvoid]

Why the Pelupelu Allied Society Quests Are Bad

Disclaimer : I am not qualified to talk about these topics. It’s possible that I’m not right in some of these points, so take this with a grain of salt and do some thinking yourself. This is only my opinion. I have no doubt that there are more qualified people than me to make these points and talk about them, as I’m only an art student with little experience with the wider world. However, as I’ve seen very few people talk about the Pelupelu Allied Society Quests as a whole, other than hearsay of people on Twitter, I’ve decided to compile a few words about the below points.

P.S. When I was writing this, I hadn’t (and still haven’t) finished all of the Pelupelu Quests. As of posting this, my rank in it its still Sworn.

everything is under the cut.

Problem 1 : The Tourism Feel

The “tourism feel” in Dawntrail, and its sidequests, is a point that many players of FFXIV have pointed out. Whether it be the overuse of tacos as general food, even though there should be other foods that people enjoy eating, or the fact that the people of Tural (or should I say, the FFXIV devs,) flaunt their culture as if it is an exotic and mysterious thing that nobody has ever seen before (it really isn’t), the tourist feel that I myself have played through is pervading and invasive in Dawntrail’s entire experience to me, and spoils it entirely.

I will only be talking about the Pelupelu Allied Society Quests in here, so that shall be my main point of focus, not the main story. This brings me to my main point in these Allied Society Quests. The Turali Travel Agency in Kozama’uka. It’s framed as a way to make funds to fix the broken bridge between Kozama’uka and Tuliyollal, to help Kozama’uka rebuild from the great storm they had, and to help fellow Turali know each other better, as the different factions barely know each other, living so far from each other as they do. Now, this in and of itself isn’t a problem – until you realise that the residents and citizens of Tural are more than capable of rebuilding and knowing each other themselves.

So why is the Turali Travel Agency introduced? It’s because of a Pelupelu of course, by the name of Liplu. Liplu wants to take, in her words, a business opportunity to help achieve the goals that I stated above.

She states,

“Our goal is to help revitalise this community as it attempts to rebuild after the great storm. Promoting Kozama’uka as a tourist destination will provide a much-needed source of income for the region, and with it, all the benefits that follow.”

My first thought when I read this dialogue was “I didn’t realise income was the issue.” This nebulous problem of “money” never came up or was addressed when we first come to Kozama’uka in the main story of Dawntrail, or when you progress in the Pelupelu Quests. Sure, you could say that they were busy with the Rite of Succession, but the fact is that it was never a problem in the first place. Why am I so confident in this fact? It’s clear that the Hanu Hanu trade their reeds or fish to make a living, so why do they not simply continue with their way of life and rebuild their village that way? Why do they not ask the Moblins and their myriad of crafters to help rebuild the bridge?

Or better yet, why not just requisition funds from the Dawnservants, who would be very eager to help, to rebuild the bridge? It doesn’t make sense. The Pelupelu Allied Society Quests are simply a way to shoehorn the Warrior of Light into helping something that doesn’t need to be helped. Simply put, the Pelupelu Society Quests are effectively useless and an incredibly lazy way to storytell, since the Warrior of Light is not needed here, but is still being framed as ‘being useful to the region’. They, as a Warrior of Light, do not know this region. They are not a citizen of Tural. They do not know their way of life. To be framed as a paragon of ‘knowing culture’ because the Warrior of Light has traveled far and wide is a false statement, and effectively turns the Warrior of Light into a foreigner meddling in matters outside of their jurisdiction.

If you are not convinced, let me compare the Pelupelu Allied Society Quests to a rather similar Allied Society Questline from the last expansion of Endwalker. The Arkasodara Allied Society Quests. The Arkasodara Allied Society Quests are only similar in a surface level – The Warrior of Light is enlisted to help a wayward band of Arkasodara who like to race with hippos. The player then find these wayward souls and bring them to Kancana, who gives them work to do, namely, which is delivering packages to other people.

The Warrior of Light, here, is simply helping them bring packages to and fro. There is no other involvement whatsoever in their work other than in key moments, not because they are a Warrior of Light, but because they are an adventurer. There is a clear story being told in the Arkasodara Quests, involving the Hippo Riders and other Gajasura who were previously living alone without outside help in Thavnair.

While in the Pelupelu Quests, the Warrior of Light is constantly lauded as an individual who can fix anything – a deus ex machina, almost. This is evident by the fact that the Pelupelu Quests open with Liplu giving lipservice to the Warrior of Light’s achievements in Tural.

“The mighty warrior who traveled the length and breadth of Tural, taking in its myriad sights, sounds, and smells─even those within the otherworldly dome!? The savvy haggler who helped the Third Promise acquire a saddle worth ten pel in the thousands column, despite starting with a mere hundred!?”

This is the key difference between the Pelupelu and Arkasodara Allied Society Quests.

This, also, brings me to my next point.

Problem 2 : The Lack of Conflict

There is little to no conflict in the Pelupelu Allied Society Quests. There is no problem to be solved, there is only progress. There is no driving force – so to speak – that drives forward the plot. It makes for an overall boring, bland and uninteresting story. Now, I realise its a big ask of an mmorpg to make a goddamned sidequest interesting, but the standards have already been set by the previous Allied Society Quests before this. The Stormblood ones were better. The ARR ones were better.

It’s just not an excuse, that the FFXIV team simply couldn’t uphold the quality of the storytelling, especially when millions of players pay 15 USD or more every month just to play the game. There’s no excuse for the drop in quality of storytelling at all.

Even if the story was meant to be “relaxing” like a vacation with low stakes, even a story with low stakes can feel interesting. Take, for example, the various sidequests peppered around the map. They’re short, sweet, and still catch my attention for the few minutes that I’m doing them. The Pelupelu Allied Society Quests feel like someone’s buried the stakes in the ground and burned them to ash for good measure. It just doesn’t feel engaging at all.

Conclusion :

I don’t really know how to end this. This started as a rant towards how I felt about these quests and it still shows in my writing. Feel free to reply to this if you can. I guess... what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t worth what I’m paying FFXIV for. This isn’t what I signed up for. No amount of complaining to Square Enix can fix this. As of writing this, I’m planning to unsubcribe. If you want things to change too, I suggest you vote with your wallet, not your words. If not, keep enjoying the game, I guess.