#i need to orphan that series i hate it so much

[mapsareforbraindeads]

hab is literally just fanservice for myself at this point. i was fucking around so much 😭 i don’t wanna get rid of any of it though

[male-duckk]

thinking abt joe/carlos

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2 of my new series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), imagining some sexy things

Word count: ~2.4k

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?

******

After two weeks in her new position, Annabelle has settled into a new normal at Graceland Manor. It's not one she particularly likes or enjoys, but it's a routine at least. She's finally learned what her responsibilities are and how to do all of them. She's also met everyone in the house and learned who is worth talking to and who isn't. The other maids are not. They're both young and experienced and spend most of their time making snide comments and whispering about her. The cook, Mrs. Hall, is her favorite person, so far. She has a warm, welcoming air about her that makes Annabelle feel at home even in the big house that has no other home-like feeling. She hasn't talked to her much, but she likes her best of all anyway. And the handsome footman that answered the door when she first arrived is the cook’s son. His name is Jimmy and he's been nothing but cordial, albeit maybe a little too friendly. Most everyone else is nice enough, but she doesn't have a real companion among the group.

One of Annabelle's jobs is tending the fires in every room each morning. This means she's up before dawn every day. She doesn't enjoy that part, but it's actually quite nice to move about the house while everyone else is still asleep. Her favorite room is the library, which doubles as Mr. Presley’s private study. She never has much time to spend in there, but she does take a few minutes occasionally to look around at the books, even glancing at his desk a couple of times. He's a mess. There are papers stacked and sticking out of piles everywhere. She's not sure why, but she finds this a little endearing, even if she has sworn to hate him.

About 3 weeks after her first day, Annabelle walks into the library purposefully, ready to light the fire and try to look at the books a little. She's startled when she realizes there is a candle burning and someone sitting at the desk. There's only one person it could possibly be, so she tries to back out of the room as quickly as she can, but she hits the doorframe and it makes a loud thud. He immediately turns and stands up and she gasps.

Mr. Presley has an imposing presence even when he's not angry, so he feels almost terrifying when he is. He glares at her and Annabelle is overwhelmed with the desire to melt into the carpet.

“Where have you been?! It's freezing in here.” She shakes her head and stumbles over her words.

“I-I I'm sorry-”

“There's no excuse.” His eyes are wild and red-rimmed like he's either been crying or hasn't slept or both and his hair looks like he's run his hand through it about a thousand times. Annabelle recognizes the look of distress and her fear turns to compassion.

“Did you… have you been in here all night?” She asks in a small voice. He's obviously disarmed by the fact that she hasn't just run away from him.

“What?”

“You look like… have you slept?” She chances a step towards him and his imposing presence seems to shrink a little.

“That is none of your business! Just light the fire and get out!” He spits at her and turns away. She walks over to the fire and tends to it quickly.

As she works at the fireplace, he turns back and watches her. There was a hint of something in her voice that he hasn't experienced from anyone other than the Mrs. Hall in a very long time. Could it have been kindness?

He softens a bit as he watches her at the fireplace. Her shoulders are delicate and graceful as she works and he has the thought again that she wasn't built for this kind of hard labor. He feels an insane desire to help her, to take the task of making the fire and do it for her, but that would be inappropriate on every level. Still, something about her makes him want to throw propriety out the window and care for her the way men do in stories about knights and ladies. He's lost in this reverie when she finishes and stands up, turning back to him.

Annabelle is shocked to find him watching her when she turns away from the fire. He moves quickly to look somewhere else, but for half a second she could've sworn his expression was gentle.

“Are you finished?” He hisses, not looking at her.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get out. Be earlier tomorrow.” His attempt to put her in the right place in his mind comes out as unnecessary coldness.

“Yes, sir.” Annabelle whispers and goes to walk from the room. But at the door, she pauses and turns back.

“You could tell me… why you haven't slept… if you wanted. No one would listen even if I tried to tell them your secrets.” For a second, he meets her eyes and the warmth he finds there soothes an ache he didn't even know he had. And then he remembers himself.

“OUT.” He tries to yell, but falters the tiniest bit. She nods and leaves the room.

Falling into the nearest chair, Mr. Presley sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. She's right that he hasn't slept. He's been holed up in the study trying to make sense of some documents since last night. Somewhere around 3am, the frustration had turned to grief and he cried for an hour or so. He was making his way back to frustration when she came in.

Why had he responded to her kindness with such cruelty? He knows the answer but isn't ready to face the reality of it.

******

In the next room, Annabelle sits in front of the fireplace crying quietly into her apron. She's so lonely and tired of the harshness with which she's treated here. There's not even anyone she could tell about her struggles. She's alone.

And why had she tried to connect with him? Not only is he a gentleman, he's her master, and not a very nice one at that. But something about him and his emotional state touched her and she felt compelled to offer herself in some way. And for no discernible reason whatsoever, his rejection hurts worst of all.

She starts to cry big, heaving sobs, knowing they're audible but no longer caring. Let them get rid of her. Maybe she could leave this miserable place and let Mr. Presley light his own fires.

******

On his way to bed, Mr. Presley hears the unmistakable sound of a woman crying coming from the drawing room. He walks quietly to the door and peeks through the crack.

The new maid.

His heart shatters when he hears the depth of her despair as she sobs. She's probably crying because he was so hateful. He lightly puts his fingertips on the door to push it open and go to her. Then he stops. It takes everything inside him to turn from the door and leave her there crying.

******

When Annabelle gets back downstairs, the kitchen is bustling with activity. Mr. Presley is entertaining later that evening, so Mrs. Hall is in a tizzy getting everything ready. Most days she does just fine by herself since she's only cooking for one man upstairs and the help downstairs, but when he entertains, she wishes she had some help. Annabelle wanders through despondently and perches on a bench.

“Love, don't you have something else to do?” Mrs. Hall asks, sweat running down the side of her face.

“Not really. I've done all my morning work already.” Annabelle kicks the floor with the toe of her shoe. She's still having to work to keep from crying.

“Get over here and help me, then. I'm assuming you know how to peel and chop.”

“Yes ma'am. I did all the cooking when I lived with my… my parents.” Her voice catches in her throat and Mrs. Hall stops and actually looks at her with her red little nose and tear-stained face.

“Love, what's got you upset?” Mrs. Hall asks as Annabelle washes her hands and takes some potatoes to peel.

“Nothing, ma'am.”

“Call me Gladys, dear.” Annabelle shakes her head.

“Oh, I could never.” Mrs. Hall laughs.

“Even Mr. Presley calls me Gladys sometimes.” Annabelle looks up at her in shock. That's far more interesting than her troubles.

“May I ask why?”

“Sure you can. I practically raised that boy. His mother passed trying to birth his twin and I had Daniel who was nearly the same age. Colonel Presley was lost for a good while after the mistress died and he paid very little attention to his son. The nanny they'd hired wasn't a very nice woman and Elvis- I mean Mr. Presley- used to spend most of his time hiding from her down here with me. He played with my boys and I taught him to cook and play the pianoforte. He's almost like a son to me, despite the difference in station.” Annabelle’s eyes widen with Mrs. Hall’s words. She tries to imagine a young Mr. Presley running through the kitchen, learning to cook and playing with servant boys. But more than the image of him as a child, it's the look that Mrs. Hall has when she talks about him that surprises her. It's a look of deep respect and love. She wonders how long it's been since Mrs. Hall has spoken with him. Maybe he has changed. “Now why don't you tell me what's got you so troubled.”

Annabelle looks down at the potato she's peeling and decides that she needs someone more than she needs to keep her own secrets.

“It's funny you mention Mr. Presley.”

“Why, love?” Annabelle sighs.

“He's the reason I was upset. Well, not the whole reason, but kind of the last thing I could handle. No one here has been very kind to me, him least of all.” Mrs. Hall nods and smiles.

“Hm. He likes you.” Annabelle looks at her with her face scrunched in shock.

“No, he does not. I assure you.”

“He likes you and he knows he shouldn't. He's trying to keep you at arm’s length.” Annabelle shakes her head.

“How do you know? Maybe he hates me?”

“If he hated you he wouldn't speak to you at all. I know my boy. He likes you.”

“No, I'm sure that's not it.” Annabelle continues peeling potatoes in silence, but her heart is pounding. Why does the prospect of Mr. Presley liking her make her knees weak?

******

That evening, Mr. Presley has several friends over for dinner. They eat and play cards and have cigars and brandy and recount their most recent adventures in London. His closest friend, Mr. Jasper Davies, asks what everyone else is wondering.

“When will you be married, then?” They're not eager to lose the company of their bachelor friend, but they know the expectation now that he's the master of a great house.

“I have no designs on marriage anytime soon.” Mr. Presley answers, knowing this won't be realistic for very long. He'll have to marry sooner rather than later. Still, he's never found any particular young lady of his station that he liked well enough to marry. There had been one girl, an actress, that he had loved quite a bit before he joined the army, but she was not a viable partner for him. None of the ladies of the county interested him and he found most of them to be rather one-dimensional and boring.

The conversation about marriage continues, but Mr. Presley has a hard time focusing. For some reason, the new maid enters his mind. He thinks about her slender white hands, too delicate for the work she does. And the way her uniform follows her curves down to her waist and then hides the rest. What he wouldn't give to be able to see her legs and feet unobstructed. He lets his imagination go even further and suddenly a picture of her naked and sprawled on his bed appears. His cock twitches in his pants and he has to adjust and clear his throat to bring himself back to reality. That's a thought he cannot have, especially not in present company.

Eventually, everyone retires to one of the many bedrooms in the house. Mr. Presley stops briefly in the library with the vague hope that the maid might be there. Of course she's not, but the brandy he's had makes his logic a little faulty. He makes it back to his bedroom where his valet undresses him and puts him in bed.

It's not long before he realizes he's staring at his fireplace, imagining the maid on her knees in front of it. This image is quickly replaced by an image of her on her knees in front of him. He curses himself for the inappropriate images in his head and the way his dick hardens at the thought of her, but he can't stop his hand from finding himself under his nightshirt. She's so pretty and kind and graceful and oh, God, he'd give anything to see her and feel her pressed up against him as they tumble naked together in the bedclothes.

He moans softly as his hand pumps his cock, sliding his foreskin back and forth, his thumb sweeping over the tip to collect the beads of precum as they gather. His hips buck into his palm and he strokes himself harder and faster. He tries to focus again on the actress that he normally thought of when he did this, but he can't. There is only the maid. The maid with her hands on him, with her mouth on him, with her thighs on either side of his hips as she sinks down onto him, with her lips parted and eyes closed as she reaches the peak of ecstasy and cries out his name. With that, he whimpers as he cums all over his hand, his cock throbbing and pulsing and leaking until his release has fully washed over him. He lays in his bed sweating and trying to catch his breath. The picture of her in his mind is so clear. He opens his mouth to whisper, but nothing comes out.

He doesn't even know her name.

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity

[arcane-vagabond]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Three

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Jake flirting, suggestive language, talk of theft, talk of hangings. I think that's it.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I know y'all have been begging for it, so here you go! Just a reminder to everyone that my 100 follower celebration is going on through the rest of the weekend, which means my ask box is open for requests of drabbles or just to talk about those fine af Top Gun men! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

If there was one thing you absolutely hated, it was the heat. You hated how it made you sweat. You hated how it made everything stick to you. Most of all, you hated how you could never seem to find any relief. You mulled over all of this as you stabbed into the dirt beneath your fingers, making a hole just big enough to plant your newly acquired seeds. Hondo had been excited to show you the new variety he had gotten in the previous morning, and you had eagerly purchased multiple packs.

Now, you were covered in dirt, sweat dripping down your brow. You leaned back, tilting your head towards the sky as you wiped your arm across your forehead. Your temples pounded from the exertion, and you were sure most of your hair had come out of the bun you had secured it in that morning.

Your mother had loved gardening, and she would always drag you outside to the small patch of land your father had set aside to do so. She taught you the different names of the flowers she kept and how to tend to the different vegetables.

“They’re just like people, Scout,” she had said with a smile, plucking a ripened tomato from the vine in front of her. She had handed it to you to put in the basket, and you had done so obediently. “Every single plant has different needs, and if those needs aren’t met, the plant can’t flourish.”

You hadn’t understood what she had meant by that, and you still weren’t sure you did as you knelt on the ground. Sure, different species of plants needed different amounts of things like water or sunlight, but two tomato plants should be treated the exact same way in order to grow. You weren’t much of a gardener, however, but you had taken it upon yourself to continue to do it after she had passed. The thought of nothing growing when your mother had always worked so hard to make sure life was ever plentiful caused a pain in your chest and tears to prickle behind your eyes.

A low whistle caught you off guard, and you jumped. Snapping your head to the far side of the fence that surrounded your tiny garden, was none other than Jake Seresin.

“Well, aren’t you a vision?” He drawled, looking you up and down. You felt a different kind of heat rise on your cheeks as you fixed him with a scowl.

“What do you want, Jake?”

He pushed off from the side of the fence and casually strolled to where you had left the gate propped open. You moved to stand, attempting to brush the dirt off of your skirt in the process.

“Just thought I’d come and see how my best girl was doin’ today,” he said, shooting you a wink. Your lips pursed as you took him in.

“I’m not your girl,” you said finally, taking in the stubble that was starting to grow on his chin. “You need to shave.”

Jake hummed as you pushed past him and towards the barn. “You don’t like it? Martha told me last night while we were down at the saloon that she thought I should grow it out. Said it would make me look rugged.”

“Then grow it out,” you grumbled. “I really don’t care either way.”

Jake came up to your side and fixed you with a mirthful stare. “You don’t have an opinion at all on it?”

“None whatsoever.”

“That’s strange,” he chuckled. “Most girls have an opinion one way or the other. The ones who like their men clean shaven like it ‘cause it gives their men a nice, boy next door kind of charm that’s hard to resist. The ones who like a little growth, though…”

You opened the door to the barn, but Jake stepped in front of you, halting your movement. A sly grin had broken out on his face, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He was so close, you could smell the mix of smoke and and fresh linen on his clothes. It was an oddly comforting smell. His lips brushed against your ear and you felt a shudder run up your spine as he said, “they like how it feels against their skin when we’re alone.”

A beat of silence passed between you two before Jake pulled away from you slowly, looking at you with an amused smirk. You scowled up at him before pushing past him and into the barn.

“You’re insufferable,” you hissed, moving towards the ladder to the second floor where you kept the hay.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, darlin’,” he laughed as you began to climb the ladder. You looked over at him with a sour look, and he huffed another laugh. “I was talkin’ about whether or not you like your men clean shaven, sweetheart.”

“I really haven’t, Mr. Seresin,” you said as you hoisted yourself up onto the ground of the second floor. Jake followed you up the ladder and stopped when he saw you attempting to pick up a rather large bale of hay. He rushed to your side, snatching it from your hands and walking over to the edge of the floor.

“I don’t need your help,” you protested. Jake threw the hay down onto the first floor with a loud thump and turned back to look at you with a scowl of his own.

“Yeah, well,” he started, already moving to grab another bale, “you’re getting it.”

You huffed but allowed him to throw down the second bale. He turned to you as if to ask if he needed to get another one, and you shook your head. He allowed you to move down the ladder first before following suit, and once you two were on the ground floor, you moved to start dispersing the hay amongst the stables for the horses. You heard Jake scoff behind you, and before you could even touch the hay, you felt a pair of hands land on your waist.

“Jake!” You screeched as he picked you up. Turning with you in his arms, he sat you down on the workbench that had been shoved against one of empty stable doors. You moved to stand back up, but Jake shoved you down gently by your shoulders.

“Stay,” he commanded, giving you a look that left no room for argument. You huffed, but complied, watching him as he began to work.

“Does your brother know you’re doing all of this?” He grumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course he does.”

“He hasn’t thought to hire any ranch hands?”

“He’s working on that part,” you mumbled. “Besides, it’s not like there’s much to do around here yet, and I am more than capable of doing it all for the time being.”

“Right,” Jake responded sardonically. “And when you keel over from exhaustion, then what?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Sure it won’t,” he said, throwing the last bit of hay into the final stall. He dusted his hands off and walked over to stand back in front of you. Placing his hands on either side of you, he leaned in so that his warm breath ghosted over your face. A smirk tugged on his lips. “So, do I get some kind of reward for helping you out today?”

“What is it you want?” You asked suspiciously, eyes flickering down to his lips momentarily.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, thumb stroking over the back of your hand where it rested on the table. He leaned in even closer. “I can think of a few things.”

“Don’t,” you said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. Jake moved away only slightly. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“And what kind of idea would that be, pretty girl?” He smirked.

“The kind that can ruin my reputation.”

Jake scoffed out a laugh, and you frowned. “I’m serious, Jake. A woman’s reputation is all she has in this world.”

Jake studied you for a second. “I think you have more to offer this world than just your reputation, sweet girl.”

“Yes, well,” you stumbled, feeling your cheeks warm yet again from the intensity of his gaze. “You would be one of the few people to think so.”

“That’s a cryin’ shame,” he murmured, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered, almost cupping your cheek as he stared at you. He really was so unfairly handsome.

“You should go,” you whispered, eyes darting between his own.

Jake stroked your cheek slowly. “Yeah? You sure you don’t want me to stay.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, almost breathlessly. Clearing your throat and shaking your head in an attempt to clear it, you said more firmly, “I mean, yes. I need to get ready for dinner at Maverick’s tonight.”

Jake gave one last stroke of his thumb to your cheek before pulling away completely. He fixed you with a mischievous grin. “Need any help getting ready?”

“Jake.”

“I’m only teasin’, pretty girl,” he laughed, already moving to leave the barn. Looking over his shoulder and back at you, he gave you one last wink. “Don’t be a stranger, Scout.”

Maverick and Penny’s home was humble, but no less spacious than your own. Maverick was a kind man with an air of assuredness about him that put any of your worries about your brother’s ranch at ease.

“I’ll help him every step of the way, y/n,” he said with a smile.

“Please, Maverick,” you had smiled back, “call me Scout.”

Two other men had joined your group for dinner that night - Sheriff Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and U.S. Marshal Beau “Cyclone” Simpson. Sheriff Kazansky was a quiet man, and you learned that he and Maverick had a friendship that spanned back decades.

“I wasn’t going to let this scoundrel found a town without someone there to make sure it didn’t all go to hell,” the sheriff had laughed. Maverick had rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at his old friend.

“I was a bit of a wild card back in those days,” he admitted.

“‘A bit’ is the understatement of the century,” laughed Kazansky before launching into a story about the time Maverick had taken it upon himself to go bull riding.

“So,” Penny had started once the laughter had died down. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company tonight, Mr. Simpson?”

The marshal finished chewing his food before answering. “Well, ma’am. I’ve been tasked with rounding up a group of wanted outlaws that have started making a name for themselves out here in the western territories.”

“Oh?” Maverick questioned, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead.

“Yes,” Simpson continued. “A group calling themselves “the Daggers,” in fact.”

You felt your blood run cold, and you shook your head at the odd sensation. Taking a steadying breath, you spoke up. “The Daggers, marshal?”

“Yes, miss. They’ve stirred up quite the ruckus over the past couple of years. They robbed a bank about a hundred miles north of here just a few months ago.”

“Really?” You breathed, setting your fork down. Simpson offered you a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, miss,” he said. “We’ll have in custody in no time.”

“So, what brings you here to our small town?” prodded Kazansky, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, the word is that this town is where they like to come and set up shop. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“If I did,” the sheriff smirked, “you’d be the first to know.”

“What do you plan on doing when you catch them?” You asked.

“We’re going to hang’em,” Simpson answered plainly. Your heart stopped, and you felt your eyes grow wide before you could stop them. You heard Penny’s breath catch and Maverick became eerily still as you all stared at the marshal.

Mr. Simpson, to his credit, seemed to grow uncomfortable at the sudden change in atmosphere. With a clear of his throat, the marshal stood and offered Penny a smile. “This was a mighty fine meal, ma’am, but I’m afraid I’ve got some work I need to be getting back to.”

“Of course,” Penny smiled. With a nod to the table, Beau Simpson turned and walked out of the house.

Maverick groaned, resting his face in his hands. “I’m going to kill those kids.”

“Pete,” Penny started, but he shook his head.

“I can’t keep bailing them out, Penny. I don’t know how many more favors I can call in.”

“I might have a few,” grumbled Kazansky. “But nothin’ I can guarantee.”

You gulped. “How many times have you had to rescue them?”

Maverick bit out a humorless laugh as Kazansky grimaced next to him.

“Enough times to where that’s how Jake earned the nickname ‘Hangman,’” Maverick stated, casting you a solemn look. You felt the color drain from your face. You weren’t sure why this whole situation made you feel sick. Perhaps it was due to the mentions of the gallows. You had seen hangings before, and you never understood the amusement people got from going to watch them. You found them horrible, feeling nauseous at the memories of the bodies as they writhed in the air.

“Are you alright, Scout?” Penny asked quietly, noticing the change in your demeanor. You took a deep breath and offered her a small smile.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you replied, turning to look back at Maverick who continued talking.

“That boy has been on the business end of a rope more times than I can count. I keep tellin’ him to keep his nose out of where it doesn’t belong, but does he listen to me?” he asked with a shake of his head.

“Maybe he just needs something to help keep him grounded and out of trouble,” Benjamin offered.

“Something,” Penny hummed, casting you a knowing glance, “or someone?”

Sheriff Kazansky let out a booming laugh as Maverick chuckled at his wife’s suggestion. “The day Jake Seresin hangs up his womanizing ways is the day I eat my hat,” he said, tone filled with mirth. Penny smiled knowingly.

“Would you like it stewed or fried, honey?”

“I’ll let the chef decide,” Maverick had scoffed. Penny looked like she was going to say something else, but you cut her off.

“Maverick, I wanted to talk to you about the children in this town.”

“What about’em?” He smiled.

“Well,” you started, “I noticed that they seem to be running around town all hours of the day. Shouldn’t they be in school?”

Maverick grimaced. “Yes, they should, but unfortunately we don’t have a schoolhouse, and we don’t have anyone who knows the first thing about teaching.”

“I see,” you murmured. Maverick offered you another smile.

“I promise, we’re working on it. Have you thought about teaching?”

“Goodness, no,” you laughed with a shake of your head. “I don’t think I’d have the patience for it.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied. “Well, I’ll guess we’ll keep lookin’ then.”

The rest of dinner passed by quickly, and before you knew it, both you and Benjamin were bidding farewell to the older couple.

“Come by anytime, you hear?” Penny called after you as you made your way home. Benjamin wished you a good night before retiring to his room, and for the first time that evening, you were left alone with your thoughts. You washed your face in the basin you kept in your room before quickly changing into your night dress. You cracked the window open in hopes that the cool, night breeze would offer your heated skin some relief. You snuffed out your candle and moved to lay in bed. Staring up at your ceiling, you couldn’t help but to think back to the conversation with Marshal Simpson. You thought about the things he said Jake and his friends had done.

“That man,” you growled to yourself. “That stupid, stupid man.”

You thought of how infuriating said man could be with his attempts at flirting, his snarky comments, his broad chest, his surprisingly soft fingers that held your cheek oh so gently…

You felt a burst of warmth pool in your stomach as you thought about how soft his lips had been on the shell of your ear, and how rough his stubble would feel pressed against your-

“Stop it,” you hissed at yourself, placing your pillow over your face and yelling into it. You laid there for a second, willing your thoughts to stop focusing on the man you were sure you hated more than anything. He was a scoundrel, after all. You placed your pillow back in its original position, closing your eyes with a deep breath. Sleep soon found you, dreams filled with green eyes and quiet sighs of your name falling from his lips.

[jaerie]

why do you have hate Louis. Honest question! Your fics portray Harry as some sort of supernatural hero. Why portray Louis as less than human..

Oh don't worry, I spread the hate to Harry just as much!

Here are some examples of the ways I have also tortured Harry:

#1 - psychologically abused cult kid and the truth shall set you free (...maybe)

#2 - full body sunburn i'm gonna pay for this 

#3 - horrific war injuries As We Were, As We Are

#4 - Louis hits him with a car Saving's What I Need

#5 - orphaned and sent down the mississippi river in a traumatic flooding event Stay Close, Hold Steady

#6 - forced into permanent cock cage torture they won't let me out (I'm locked up)

#7 - knot cancer multipart series Swim When It Hurts - Part One

#8 - drug addicted emotionally abusive Captain Jack

#9 - government captive forcably raped on a daily basis The Post-War BP 

#10 - neglected sisterwife in a cult Sisterwives

#11 - more horrible medical suffering We'll Be Alright

#12 - another forced cock cage one First Moments of Freedom

#13 - another abused by a cult Are You Taking Clients?

#14 - another captured forced rape Trading Sins For Treason

#15 - gang raped The Scramble

And let's be real... some of my worst Harry torture is over there on Anonymous Unicorns. So as you can see, I don't limit my hate to Louis.

[sundrop-writes]

Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.

You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.

Word Count: 2,900

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.

A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!

...

Stress. 

There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them. 

Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason. 

(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.) 

Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality. 

And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary. 

All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability. 

And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill. 

You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh. 

You always kept him sane. 

And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you. 

Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice. 

He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older. 

So he waited. 

And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way. 

He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease? 

It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight. 

He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too. 

When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that. 

That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time. 

He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help. 

He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing. 

But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father. 

Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life. 

As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you. 

Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility. 

When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time. 

Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time. 

You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time. 

It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you. 

Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time. 

He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed. 

When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care. 

He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs. 

The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them. 

Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state. 

The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him. 

Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending. 

“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw. 

You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead. 

“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.” 

You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect. 

Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway. 

“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued. 

At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie. 

Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to. 

“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh. 

Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes. 

“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you. 

Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart. 

You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone. 

“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.” 

Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale. 

“Have we?” You argued gently. 

Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you. 

You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you. 

Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words. 

“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.” 

This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence. 

“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility. 

Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire. 

He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all. 

The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind. 

But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of. 

And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others. 

Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos. 

And so, he gently planted his lips on yours. 

It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom. 

His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it. 

It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life. 

When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin. 

Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson? 

Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak. 

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.” 

“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse. 

But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. 

Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching. 

“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it. 

“Yeah?” Dick replied. 

“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news. 

“What?” Dick gaped. 

There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind. 

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

[zluty-spendlik]

WAKFU REDESIGN AND REWRITE SERIES – PART 1

Evangelyne

Evangelyne used to be my favorite character growing up, which kind of sucks since she’s one of the flattest characters considering how much screentime she has.

Even when I was a little kid and watched this show I found it annoying how she was constantly drooled over by the guys and these days its pretty obvious she’s a very stereotypical not-like-the-other-girls girl, created solely to be Percedal’s (the literal incarnation of the expected target audience) love interest.

SHE EVEN HAS THE WHOLE „I let my hair down and now am so much prettier“ ARC HAPPEN FRICKING TWICE IN THE SPAN OF. WHAT- 5 EPISODES???

Evangelyne is a misogynistic character on so many levels, the only Eva-centric episodes we get are either ones she needs saving in (like Vampyro or the pirate one), or when she has a love arc with Percedal (the whole Rubilaxia shtick, or the tree of Life episode).

Honestly the only bearable scenes where she shows up are those where she interacts with Amalia and even those get twisted into weird sexist tropes: Evangelyne critisizing Amalia for buying too much clothes, or overall cringing at Amalia’s „too girly“ behaviour.

Even when they have a touching conversation after freeing Amalia’s father from the Tree of Life, Amalia immediatelly brings up Percedal and fails the Bechdel test.

I won’t even touch the Cleophée (or Cleome in english) trainwreck  the writers pulled in season 2 or the whole pregnant-damsel-in-distress thing she had going on in season 3- I didn’t watch season 3 and 4 mostly because I got so mad after the misogyny happening in the first episode and I didnt want to ruin my already fragile excitement over the series.

But don’t get me wrong – Even tho Wakfu has a lot of potential for growth, I still love the series dearly, and would love to give the characters justice. It is important to note that I am not a professional writer and Im mostly doing this for my own indulgence, so please feel free to throw constructive critisism towards me.

Character rewrite

We don’t know much about Evangelyne’s backstory, or rather her story before she meets Amalia – And in my head as a kid, I always assumed she was an orphaned kid basically living on the street with Cleophée, until someone (presumably Armand, since he has a long-term crush on her and Amalia hated her at first) took pity on her and took her to the palace (once I figure out Cleophées design Ill explain what happens with her).

Fast forward a couple years, Eva is officially Amalia’s bodyguard, yadayadayada.

Important thing is, that this shapes Evangelyne’s personality and self-perception –

I have divided my potential Eva Arc into 3.5 Categories:

Self-protection and perservation

Eva knows how dangerous the world can be (streets) and how serious her job is, but she’s only seventeen. She takes her job way too seriously, in the sense that she doesnt trust anybody they meet (which is especially shown when they meet the Tofu gang). She doesn’t want anyone but Amalia close and deep down, she’s scared of other people.

She is horrible at teamwork, which only frustrates her and everyone around her. She fails to see the affection Amalia has for her, because her entire self is just a bodyguard.

She doesn’t know who she is without that.

Depression

Dally’s sacrifce absolutely traumatizes Eva, both in the canon and my version. It doesnt need to be seen as romantic tho (we’ll get to that). On top of that AMALIA BRIEFLY DIES AND COMES BACK. Can you HEAR Evangelyne’s entire purpose crumbling down?

In her head, two people just died because of her.

Besides, Percedal sacrifices himself because he cares for her. Not as a „coworker“ or a teammate, but as a friend and Evangelyne cannot fathom that sort of service and relationship.

And even though she failed, her friends are there to support her.  Eva learns compassion.

Self-destruction

However, she now feels she has to „make up“ for her lack of compassion and her failings as a bodyguard. Long story short, she completely flips to the other extreme, basically throwing herself in any sort of danger to protect her friends  (hence when she hears Dally, she immediatelly goes to Rubilaxia). In the show this is less extreme but portrayed as her real and true personality: more reckless and adventureous – but i think the writers just wanted Eva to finally have something in common with Dally (which, btw, uncool), but I’d like this to be portrayed as a bad thing.

Eva fails to see that she’s hurting herself and fails to recognize herself as a person rather than basically a human shield. This arc climaxes in the Cleophée episode and Eva learns that compassion is not transactional, or something to be earned.

Her true self

Evangelyne's final form! We dont know much about Eva's hobbies other than her job and fighting skills, HOWEVER Dally mentions Eva taught him tracking at one point and tbh Evangelyne being a ranger or just studying nature fits her pretty well imo! She is also canonically artistic (as confirmed by the journal she keeps).

I take issue with Evangelyne always being seen as the “mom of the group”. Yes, she's smart and responsible and caring, but that's her job, she's an older sister, less of a mother figure and more of an equal to the others in the gang.

Design

In s1, Id like her to wear a lot of armour with chainmail directly on her skin (haha get it because trust issues), and with a mostly green colour palette, cause, Sadida kingdom yk.

In her s2 look, she throws away most of her armour and self perservation instincts and since her personality completely flips, so does her colour palette - red! The first aid kit is gone and she wears an ascot now (a torn bit from Dally's cape lol).

And finally, i made her a furry I gave her some gadget shoes from Cleophée, helping her move faster, I put some of the armour back and made her hair longer. Her colour palette now consists not only green, but also the "Yugo blue", which i plan on incorporating in everyone's final design :D

AND FINALLY, AN ART DUMP

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Two

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.9k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings

They finally meet

One year later...

The message comes out of the blue. The first time I've heard from John Price in a whole month, and it's a fucking text message.

I'm watching TV, curled up in a ball on the sofa next to my best friend and flatmate Winslow "Winnie" Sloane, when my phone pings. I think about ignoring it until I catch a glimpse of his name. It's an unspoken rule between the two of us - we never knowingly ignore one another. Obviously, he can't reply to my messages when he's on ops, but that's different - that's not wilful.

I pick it up without hesitation and take a look.

JOHN PRICE: Tali, I need a favour. It's urgent.

My heart drops.

TALIA KELLER: What's happened? JOHN PRICE: Call me. I'll explain.

So, I do. I tap Winnie on the shoulder and rise up to my feet, shuffling off to my bedroom so I don't disturb her episode of Slow Horses. When I'm safely shut behind my bedroom door, I tap on the call button, dreading what's awaiting me on the other end of the line.

"John?" my voice is full of nerves as the call connects, echoing slightly around the room.

"God am I glad to hear your voice, Tali." He sounds haggard, his own voice tired and hollow. It's not hard to tell that he's fresh off an op. I can already imagine how drained he looks; can picture the dark circles shading his eyes and his scruffy too-long beard.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly brave, I try to talk him into leaving the service. I think about Alex and his death, and I hate that John still knowingly puts himself in harm's way day and night. He's the only serving soldier I know now - I never met any of the other members of their unit - and I desperately wish that he'll retire soon.

"How are you?" he follows up, voice puncturing through my thoughts.

"I'm okay. At home with Winnie. How's Marcella?"

A soft sigh leaves him at the mention of his long-suffering wife. I wonder if he's even had a chance to see her yet. "Last we spoke, she was perfectly fine. Misses you though. You need to come over for dinner soon."

An easy laugh leaves me. Winnie and John aren't the only ones who've been supporting me since Alex died. John's wife Marcie has been there every step of the way too, helping me through rough patches whenever John is away on deployments. And Winnie's never been anything but kind and understanding - it's not in her nature to be anything but.

"Soon," I mumble in agreement. There's a sound on the other end of the line in the background, a murmured snippet of conversation and a drawn-out groan followed by a soft shut up. "Not alone?"

"Got some company," John admits. "Speaking of... does Winslow still have that big trip coming up?"

My palms slick with sweat. Yes. Yes, she does.

Ever since her big promotion six months ago, Winnie's job now involves a lot more travelling than it used to. And - because of that - in three days' time, she'll be in France, starting a month-long assignment helping a struggling marketing firm in Paris.

And I'll be alone.

It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I've always had this thing about being alone. It's part of the reason why I live with Winnie; why I've been seeing a therapist since I was sixteen; why I struggle to have normalcy. My current therapist thinks that it's a form of abandonment issues from being orphaned at a young age, which has led to my inability to maintain stable relationships. The therapist before that thought it was something completely different; that I seek to form attachments but wilfully don't, self-sabotaging and creating my own permanent sense of loneliness. But, my point is, I don't react anywhere near as badly to it as I did when I was a kid.

I still remember when I was fifteen and Alex left for his first deployment. I was still living with our maternal grandmother at the time, and I completely shut down. I holed up in my room for almost a whole month, refusing to speak and barely eating or sleeping. I could hardly function for worrying about him...

"Tali?"

I snap out of it. "Sorry. Yes."

"Could you... could I possibly bring some of my guys to your apartment? Just while Winslow is away. Our safehouse in the area has been taken out of action and we need somewhere to lay low for a little while."

My guys. The unit.

"What about your place?" My brow furrows. Surely Marcella wouldn't mind a few guests. She's calm and motherly and takes great pride in hosting. I'm sure she'd be in the element with them.

John clears his throat awkwardly. "Not an option. They don't know."

Ah. The brave, almighty Captain John Price still hasn't told his team that he's married. Typical.

I roll my eyes. "Okay. I hope you know that we're coming back to that later." A beat of silence passes. "How many people are we talking, John? Because it's a two-bedroom flat in London. It's spacious but it's hardly the Tardis."

He snorts out a dry laugh. "Only two. One of the lads is local so he's got family around here he can stay with. And there's some stuff I've got to get done, so I'll be hopping from base to base."

"Where are they going to sleep? Are they going to mind sharing a bed? Because the sofa is comfortable, but I know how you army guys are built..."

There's an awkward silence on Price's end as I hear him shifting around. It takes me a second to realise that he's covering his mouth against his phone's microphone. "Yeah... that's, um- that won't be an issue for them."

Oh.

Oh.

"Okay. Cool. I'll take them."

I wince. Why the fuck did I say cool? Of all the ways that I could respond and I choose that. Way to go, Tali.

"Are you sure that you're okay with this, Tali?" Price asks, his voice soft and encouraging. "If you aren’t, we can find something else-"

"Price, I'll take them in. Winnie leaves on Tuesday morning, so just have them swing by around then, okay?"

Favour asked and questions answered, we say our goodbyes and hang up. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts before padding back into the living room. The moment I step through the hallway, Winslow pauses the TV, angling her head up to look at me. A cloud of black curly hair frames her beautiful face, dark eyes wide and expectant. "Is John back home?"

I wince, getting ready to launch into an explanation. "Not quite."

Tuesday morning rolls around all too soon. By 9 a.m. I'm sitting cross-legged on the foot of Winnie's bed as she packs up her stuff. I can't help but feel a pang of anxiety strike deep in my chest.

"Are you sure that you're gonna be okay?" Winnie asks, almost like she can read my mind.

I meet her dark, knowing gaze and offer her a smile. "Winnie, I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. If I need anything, I can call Marcella."

She smiles, running a hand through her freshly braided hair. The pearls attached to some strands clink together softly. "Okay. Good. But you've got to call me once a week at least, okay?" Before I can reassure her that I will, she adds, "And you've got to text me every day."

"Winslow, I will. Stop stressing, please."

A moment of easy silence passes before the laughter starts. Both of us crack up, her eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.

Once we've both calmed down, I take a closer look at her cases. She's packing almost everything she owns. It's a sight that worries me, so I look away, deciding to look out of the window instead.

A loud, firm knock on the front door saves me just as Winnie is packing up her last suitcase. We exchange a look before I'm up on my feet, scrambling to answer it. I can't lie, I'm curious to meet John's friends. But I'm also sad. Because there's a strong possibility that they knew Alex too. That they were with him when he died.

When I open the door, there's two men standing in the hallway, just like John said there would be. The first has short brown hair styled into a mohawk, the sides cropped close to his scalp but the top and back left longer. He's broad-chested, muscular too; built like a grizzly bear. And, even though his complexion has a slightly pallid hue under the overhead lights, it's not hard to imagine that he's usually quite tan.

And then there's his friend. Standing next to the grizzly bear and at least half-a-foot taller than him, he has the expression of a man who wants to break me apart with his bare hands just to see what's inside. I fight to meet his intense gaze, taking catalogue of the features visible under the dark hood of his black sweatshirt. His eyes are hazel - I think - skin tanned from what I'd assume are long hours spent out in the sun, and I can't quite make out his hair colour. He's equally if not more muscular than his friendlier-looking counterpart. My eyes trail down to his mouth, drawn to the scar bisecting his bottom lip. It doesn't draw away from his attractiveness though; just adds to the sense of rugged charm that I'm getting from him.

Not that it should matter. It doesn't. They're here because they need help; not because they want to be ogled by a complete stranger.

"Are you John's friends?" I ask stupidly, as if they could be anyone else.

The grizzly bear nods. "Aye. And you are?"

Scottish. Nice. I've always loved the accent, but his is even better. There's a humour there; something uniquely his. It makes me want to keep him talking just so I can hear it more.

"Tali." I step back so that they can come inside. They hesitate for a second before following me into the living room, the tall, silent one closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Also John's friend."

The grizzly bear plops straight down onto the couch, stretching out with no hesitation and making himself at home. His arms drape over the backrest, a lazy grin forming on his lips as he watches me take a seat on my armchair. The tall one gives him a reprimanding look, hovering beside the window behind him. His light eyes are always alert; darting around the room like something's going to jump out at any second.

"You army?" he asks, expression wary. His voice is all gravel with a Manchester accent.

I offer him a small smile. "Nope." I don't think anyone could mistake me for a soldier. I'm small - short and slender - and skittish at the best of times. "So... what should I call you?"

Hazel eyes narrow at me. "Ghost."

The grizzly bear rolls his eyes dramatically, offering me a wide, disarming grin. It's blatantly obvious that he's overcompensating for him. "Callsign is Soap, but a pretty lass like you can call me Johnny."

My heart flutters.

It takes a second to remember what John had said on the phone. Sharing a bed won't be an issue for them. The awkward, implying tone he'd said it in. In other words, neither of them are meant for me.

Ghost eases away from the window to stand just behind the sofa, drawing closer to Johnny. Johnny, on the other hand, moves so that he's leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees as he cocks his head at me. "A friend of Captain Price, are ye?"

I nod softly. "Yes."

"Funny that," Ghost barks, tilting his head to one side. "He's never mentioned you." Thinly veiled suspicion drifts off of him in waves, and it makes me feel endlessly uncomfortable. His harsh gaze melts through my skin and bones, boring deep into my soul.

I shift in my seat. "He never mentioned either of you to me, so I don't think that counts for much."

Johnny lets out a loud laugh. "I think I'm gonna like ye, Tali. Not many people talk back to 'im."

It's in that moment - as I'm silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me whole - that Winnie steps out of her room, suitcases in tow. She walks into the living room, depositing them by the front door before coming over to introduce herself, a sceptical look on her face.

She levels Ghost with an icy glare, not looking away from him as she asks me, "Everything all okay here, Tali?"

"Yeah, it's alright Winnie." I gesture to each of John's friends in turn. "Winnie, this is Johnny." He raises his hand and waves, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "And that is Ghost." I point to looming, ominous figure behind him.

"Ghost?" she repeats slowly. I nod. "Okay, well I'm leaving now. Tali, I love you and I'll miss you. Remember to call me." She bends at the waist to hug me, wrapping me up in her warm, vanilla-scented embrace. As she straightens, she glares at each of the men in turn. "And you two - don't give her any shit. If I find out you've made her feel uncomfortable even once, not even John will be able to save you. Got it?"

Johnny stares up at my friend, mystified. His blue eyes are bright as he nods. "Don't worry. We won't be any trouble."

Winnie turns back to face me. "Right, I've got to go or I'll miss my ride to the airport. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone, okay?"

"I know," I say, my voice soft. "I love you. Be safe and text me when you land."

With a nod, Winnie presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head then gets her last few bits together. And then she leaves. Leaving me alone with two complete strangers. Yay.

"So," I grumble, struggling against the urge to shy away from their intense gazes in the safety of my room, "do you want to see where you'll be staying?"

Later that night, the three of us gather in the living room to watch TV.

The guys didn't have much to unpack. They travelled light so I'm going to have to go shopping sometime soon to buy them some essentials; more clothes and toiletries. Definitely food too. If dinner tonight was any indication, they eat a lot.

I'm curled up in my armchair again, watching something that Johnny chose on Netflix. Every once and a while, I glance across at them. Ghost is sitting upright, legs stretched out in front of him. His legs are so long that his feet are tucked under the coffee table. And then there's Johnny. He's laying on his side on the sofa, his head resting on Ghost's muscular thighs. Every now and then, Ghost's hand runs down the length of Johnny's side, stroking him in soothing, rhythmic motions.

Looking at them, I can't help but feel a sense of longing. Jealousy that they're together and obviously quite happy. That they're comfortable enough around one another for these subconscious displays of affection.

I'll never have that. It's something that I've come to accept. I'm twenty-five now and I've never had a serious relationship. I don't even think I want one. For a period of time in my late teens, I thought that I might be aro-ace, but over time I've gathered that I do feel romantic and sexual attraction. It's just different.

The sad truth is that I don't trust anyone enough to believe that they'd stay with me. Love me. Make me feel safe enough for displays of casual affection. There would always be that looming sense of dread that they'd leave me sooner or later.

In my head, I've justified it. If I don't get into relationships, no one can leave me. Alex's death all but solidified that for me.

The rom-com Johnny picked out gets to a comedic scene - a naked beach fight - and he starts to chuckle. I join him and I swear even Ghost lets out a little snort. We're all laughing until...

"Fuck. Johnny, you're bleeding."

My heart crawls up into my throat. My eyes snap across to them, blatantly looking now. The white t-shirt Johnny is wearing is plastered to his side, a red patch seeping through the fabric, spreading across his ribs.

He sits upright, holding it with one large hand. "Ah fuck. Didn't get any on the sofa, did ah'?"

"Fuck the sofa," I splutter out in a panic. "Are you okay? Why are you bleeding? Should I call an ambulance?"

Johnny looks back at me with a quizzical expression while Ghost just sighs, standing up. He walks towards the bedrooms at an unhurried pace, stopping along the way to press a chaste kiss to Johnny's forehead, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, darling, I'll get the bag." Hazel eyes swing towards me, where I'm still panicking in my armchair. "His dressing just needs changing, and I'll check his stitches. He's fine, love."

I ease back into my seat, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Oh."

Ghost leaves the room, heading into my bedroom to get the aforementioned bag. I've decided to give them my room for the duration of their stay because it has an en-suite. It eliminates the risk of me accidentally stumbling in on them in the shared bathroom that doesn't have a working lock. Overall, it's safer for everyone that I'm staying in Winnie's room.

Feeling more than a little foolish for my outburst, I offer Johnny a weak smile. "I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, Johnny."

"Ye sure?" he asks, blue eyes tinted with a hint of... something. Maybe disappointment? I don't know. "The movie isn't over yet. You seemed like ye were enjoying it." His brow furrows. "We could watch something else."

"I'm sure. It's fine; I'm just tired. We can watch another movie tomorrow night if you want."

His eyes light up at that. "Yeah, sounds perfect."

I'm back in Winnie's room by the time Ghost leaves mine. I can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway. Hear their muffled conversation and muted laughter.

As I fall asleep, I can't help but feel a different kind of loneliness. And, as I drift off, my heart aches for what Ghost and Johnny have.

a/n: guess who's back! so Tali has finally met the boys :) sorry if this part is a little short, just wanted to get something out in time for christmas for you guys - merry christmas and take care of yourselves, lapetitelapin

[traeumenvonbuechern]

🐉 Dragon Books To Read If You Liked "Fourth Wing" by Rebecca Yarros 🐉

The dragon romantasy "Fourth Wing" by Rebecca Yarros has taken over the bookish community, so I wanted to give you some recommendations on what to read after you finished it.

Dragonfall by L.R. Lam

Long ago, humans betrayed dragons, stealing their magic and banishing them to a dying world. Centuries later, their descendants worship dragons as gods. But the 'gods' remember, and they do not forgive. Since they were orphaned, Arcady has scraped a living thieving on the streets of Vatra, dreaming of life among the nobility - and revenge. When the chance arises to steal a powerful artefact from the bones of the Plaguebringer, the most hated person in Lumet history, they jump at it, for its magic holds the key to their dreams. But the spell has unintended consequences, and drags Everen - the last male dragon, who was once foretold to save his kind - into the human world. Trapped, and disguised as a human, Everen soon realises that the key to his destiny, and to regaining his true power, lies in Arcady. All he needs to do is convince one little thief to bond with him completely - body, mind, and soul - and then kill them . . . Yet the closer the two become, the greater the risk both their worlds will shatter.

To Shape a Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose

A young Indigenous woman enters a colonizer-run dragon academy—and quickly finds herself at odds with the “approved” way of doing things—in the first book of this brilliant new fantasy series. The remote island of Masquapaug has not seen a dragon in many generations—until fifteen-year-old Anequs finds a dragon’s egg and bonds with its hatchling. Her people are delighted, for all remember the tales of the days when dragons lived among them and danced away the storms of autumn, enabling the people to thrive. To them, Anequs is revered as Nampeshiweisit—a person in a unique relationship with a dragon. Unfortunately for Anequs, the Anglish conquerors of her land have different opinions. They have a very specific idea of how a dragon should be raised, and who should be doing the raising—and Anequs does not meet any of their requirements. Only with great reluctance do they allow Anequs to enroll in a proper Anglish dragon school on the mainland. If she cannot succeed there, her dragon will be killed. For a girl with no formal schooling, a non-Anglish upbringing, and a very different understanding of the history of her land, challenges abound—both socially and academically. But Anequs is smart, determined, and resolved to learn what she needs to help her dragon, even if it means teaching herself. The one thing she refuses to do, however, is become the meek Anglish miss that everyone expects. Anequs and her dragon may be coming of age, but they’re also coming to power, and that brings an important realization: the world needs changing—and they might just be the ones to do it.

She Who Earned Her Wings by Vaela Denarr & Micah Iannandrea

One does not learn to fly without taking a leap. And one has to fall to be caught. Nomi is a young druid finally taking the chance to spread her wings and leave her home. To see the world and discover its magic, beauty… and maybe love. Calia is a dragon on the hunt for angels, trying to square an old debt. That, and to get Laura, her desired bondmate, to finally return to her side, where she belongs. Nomi immediately catches the eye of the powerful dragons. Calia entices her with honeyed words and a skillful tongue. On the other hand, Laura, much smaller but equally intimidating, takes it upon herself to protect her. Despite the warnings, Nomi can’t help being drawn to Calia's charm, her power, her fangs… and the hidden gentleness in her eyes. She promises danger where Laura promises safety, and Nomi is torn between the two. Luckily there is a convenient cult out for the dragons’ heads, providing Nomi with ample distraction and at least one dragon egg to steal, hatch, and raise by herself. Perfectly normal things for a young transgender druid to get involved in! In the clutches of dragons, battling dark forces from beyond the stars, Nomi faces the questions of who she is and who she wants to be. Whether she deserves the love offered to her, and what it truly takes to earn her wings...

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Make Me Feel Alive Episode 2

Gilbert von Obsidian's Birthday Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

Several decades ago, a series of unfortunate events occurred in Obsidian, involving the deaths of members of the royal family and powerful nobles.

It all began with the assassination of the crown prince, followed by incidents such as accidental falls, carriage accidents, bloodshed due to tangled love affairs, and executions.

The unfortunate events continued as if someone were orchestrating them behind the scenes, and those who had been enjoying the power desperately tried to gain favor with the surviving influential figures.

The one who caught the attention of several people was a young prince who was still a child back then.

Despite the repeated deaths within the royal family, the one-eyed boy walked through the castle with a smile.

With just a few words, he demonstrated wisdom beyond his years, and it didn't take long for people to see in him the qualities fit for a king.

The one-eyed boy would eventually become the emperor.

The rumors spread like wildfire, and people did their best to gain his favor.

Gilbert: "It was fun back then. People who never paid me any attention suddenly bowed their heads, and the grown-ups kneeled before me."

Gilbert: "I wish I could've shown you how embarrassing that scene was."

(His childhood stories are always lonely.)

Gilbert: "Ahaha! Stop making that face. We haven't even gotten to the main part yet."

Emma: "Is this even related to your birthday?"

Gilbert: "Yeah. Think about it. If you were trying to win me over, what would you do first?"

Emma: "I'd bake lots of sweets."

Walter: "Please, stop with the carbs."

Emma: "S-Sorry."

Gilbert: "Shut up if you don't want to die, Walter."

Walter: "It's my job to watch over your health."

Gilbert: "Noisy outsiders aside, your idea is correct. You're going to give me something that I would enjoy, right?"

Gilbert: "But a gift, by its nature, cannot be given without a reason. That's why many people focus on一"

Emma: "Your birthday?"

Gilbert: "Yup. At that time, people saw me as a child. And what do children love? Presents."

Gilbert: "One certain year, a useless noble threw a birthday party for me."

------------Flashback-----------

Noble: "Happy birthday, Prince Gilbert."

Noble: "I sincerely offer my congratulations to you, Your Highness. This gemstone is a gift from our family."

Gilbert: "Fufu, thank you. But I don't need that kind of thing."

Noble: "Prince Gilbert?"

Gilbert: "I'm tired and sleepy, so I'm heading back. Goodnight."

Noble: "P-Please wait!"

Gilbert: "Ahaha! Don't worry. I have plans to meet with you tomorrow."

Noble: "Plans?"

Gilbert: "Yes. Well then, let's meet again at the execution ground."

Noble: "What!?"

---------Flashback Ends--------

Gilbert: "The next day, I killed him."

Emma: "What?"

Gilbert: "I just tried to make an example out of the guy."

I was so shocked that my mind went blank.

Roderich: "He was executed for human trafficking and illegal drug possession."

Roderich: "He was an underground merchant who trained unidentified orphans with drugs and illegally traded them. Prince Gilbert had been一"

Gilbert: "Hey, did I ever say you could open your mouth?"

Under his murderous gaze, Roderich fell silent.

Gilbert: "Anyway, I killed him."

Gilbert: "How did the people react? Of course, they thought that celebrating my birthday had upset me."

Gilbert: "After that year, there weren't any more daredevils."

Gilbert: "I was able to eliminate those who celebrated my birthday. All's well that ends well."

Emma: "Why did you hate being celebrated that much?"

(His birthday is taboo for the Obsidian people.)

(But celebrating itself shouldn't be a bad thing.)

Gilbert: "I wonder why?"

Seemingly reluctant to delve into the matter, Gilbert hid his words behind a smile.

Even when I looked at Roderich and Walter, they just shook their heads.

(Maybe no one really knows the reason.)

Gilbert: "Now then, little rabbit. As you said, my birthday is approaching soon."

He suddenly stood in front of me, gently placing his hands on my neck and squeezing it lightly.

Gilbert: "Will you also celebrate my birthday at the risk of your life?"

Episode 1 ╎ Episode 2 ╎ Episode 3

[hotchocolatefanfics]

I’m just gonna rant about Red for a moment here because I feel like it.

I don’t know anything about mental health disorders but I have noticed a lot of Red’s personality traits that we see in Revelations (especially) and (a little bit) in War are similar to Antisocial Personality Disorder (manipulative, aggression, hostility) and some of the things he has done in Revelations (such as going after Cornelia and threatening the midwives with a gun) could be described as ‘lack of restraint, impulsive, risk taking’ which are also signs of ASPD.

This does NOT necessarily mean Red has Anti Social Personality Disorder, I’m just saying there are similarities with his behavior and personality with the disorder.

Whether he has a disorder or not though, Red’s hatred of Caesar and his rule seems to run deep. It bothers me that we do not know anything about Red’s life prior or during the events of Dawn, especially because him wanting to overthrow Caesar in Revelations and later joining the AO army as a donkey doesn’t seem like just anger over Koba’s death (why the heck did he follow him in the first place?).

I think it’s reasonable to say that Red is likely a teenager in Revelations (maybe he, like Blue Eyes, Ash and Lake, was born sometime after Rise-like first generation of apes born after their liberation) so some of his thinking might be attributed to that but mainly it might mean his childhood was rough (Caesar’s Story also hinted at mortality rates in the early years of their freedom weren’t great: deaths in childbirth, illness, cold weather, etc).

It just seems to me that Red‘a hate for Caesar and (possibly) the other apes is much more personal than Koba’s death. My headcanon for Red is basically:

- Something or a series of events happened in Red’s childhood that made him feel rejected by the colony (not necessarily by fault of Caesar and others! Like maybe he lost someone close to him to a human (which could explain his preference to Koba’s rule over Caesar’s), or Red was in a situation where he needed help but no one knew or how to help him (such as if he was abused by a parent or orphaned at a young age) and he felt abandoned by them).

- If humans did have something to do with Red’s life before War, it likely would have involved his parents. Maybe his parents were abused by humans and thus taught Red to hate and fear them, or maybe one or both parents were actually killed by humans sometime between Rise and Dawn.

Another thing I notice is Red never interacts with Blue Eyes or Lake in either Revelations or in War but he does with Winter and Grey (in Revelations).

This may not mean anything but it makes me wonder what Red’s social life was like before he turned on the apes. I think it’s safe to say he and Winter had an ok relationship before that but did he have any friends his own age? He kind of seems like a loner to me.

What is also odd to me is, despite being a gorilla, Red prefers manipulation and underhanded tactics (in Revelations) as opposed to physical violence (of course he is capable of it).

This is where his age comes into play here, his ‘beating around the bush’ in the beginning of Revelations could have been Red trying to overthrow Caesar without actual confrontation and hoping the humans did that for him But it still doesn’t explain his willingness to manipulate Grey and Winter into trying to kill Cornelia, make Grey the leader, and take the colony somewhere else.

But then here’s the funny thing about Red, despite all that he is also shown to be redeemable when he saved Caesar at the end of War (which also resulted in his own death).

The look on his face as he watched the apes get shot at too!

It makes me wonder if when Red manipulated Winter into telling him where Caesar was in the beginning, if he was also attempting to save his life (given that Red and the other turncoat apes joined the AO soldiers to survive). This can’t really be confirmed though since we didn’t actually this conversation.

TLDR: Red is an under-rated and complex gorilla and I love him so much for it!

Feel free to share your own thoughts! 🦍

[theladyofbloodshed]

It's been an age since I read the series, but I do think Rhys was intended to be one of the villains for the trilogy:

SJM scrapped her original plan for ACOMAF and wrote the current one. ACOMAF is touted as a hades x persephone retelling but it isn't really that at all. On her second (?) visit she decides to stay.

Rhys very much is the villain in book one but the end scene when they talk and the bond snaps was a different tone entirely - which makes me think it was a last minute edit to set up the new sequel

There are no mentions to Illyrians in ACOTAR - despite later finding out they did serve alongside Amarantha and were executed for it - the attor is the only one described as having leathery wings

There are also no mentions to Darkbringers who did also serve

Why would they serve Rhys if they hate him? It's explained as them being SO evil that they revel in Amarantha's punishment, but they would still need to follow his orders so it makes no sense that they would listen to him when they could bypass Rhys and bend the knee to her

It is retconned that with his single drop of leftover magic, he is able to shield Velaris and remove Amren, Mor, Cassian and Azriel from the memories of every single person in Prythian - which includes Mor's family, every Illyrian, the Vanserras, and Tamlin (in book 2, Tamlin and Lucien comfirm they know Cass & Az, Eris was engaged to Mor, Lucien calls Amren a scary story they tell children, the CoN apparently knows about Velaris) If Rhys wasn't the originally intended villain then...

Why does the king of Hybern who trained Amarantha - she uses his book of spells - do nothing for fifty years? The Suriel states that a hundred years earlier he sends spies to Prythian but Amarantha betrays him and traps the high lords and he then just chills

Why does he wait until the high lords are back to full strength to start a war to take over Prythian? He had fifty years to take over prythian when all of the high lords except one were trapped - but what? He was too scared of Amarantha? He needed an extra 8 months to launch his war?

Amarantha is his student so it stands to reason that he is stronger than her and could quite easily take over her coup with the army that was seemingly ready to go at any time. There's even a part in acotar where one creature questions the attor over whether amarantha thinks she's above the king. It's also stated that her revenge on jurian cost him the war because she didn't march with her section of the army, but he's benevolent enough to let her rule for 50 years

Hybern is made out to be this ghoulish country where they're all evil (just like Illyria and the Hewn City) with no variance amongst the people; they're all warriors too, clearly no children or farmers or smiths or matronly women. They're all nameless and faceless cannon fodder. There is no concern for the state of post-war Hybern or who rules in the king's stead, for the orphans and windows. It is underdeveloped as is the nameless king who is foolish enough to try and take over prythian only *after* its high lords have all had their power restored and are fortifying their courts

[risuola]

III — THE UCHIHA KID // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

The babyboy that asked you for help turned out to be a member of the Uchiha clan and it's safe to say that he was terrified to face your husband. You, on the other hand, were more than willing to help him.

contents: none, just fluff — 3k words

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

A boy, whose name was Kagami Uchiha, was a six years old orphaned baby of the clan that your husband fruitlessly warned you about many times. It was against your nature to prejudice but you understood his point of view, after reading every document regarding the history of founding Konoha and the warring period. The baby was instructed by the clan members to head to Tobirama, as he was responsible for housing issues in the village, as well as the orphanage. Unfortunately, it was stated strictly that every move or change in the location had to go through the office, because it was needed to be noted. That made it easier to keep the order or act if someone was in danger.

After you knocked, you peaked inside the office, seeing your husband at the desk, reading something.

“What is it?” he asked, not even lifting his head, consumed by the document.

“Sorry to bother you, my dear,” you spoke, drawing his attention to you and as he looked up, his features twisted just slightly in surprise. Last thing he was expecting was to see you with a child in your arms. “If you need to finish reading, I’ll wait outside.”

“No, come in and give me a minute.”

Giving it a nod, you closed the door behind you as he got back to the paper he was analyzing. Approaching the large, full-wall-sized window you showed the view to the boy, admiring the enlarged eyes he made, seeing the whole village and woods around it from here. But even if he was stunned, his little body couldn’t stop shaking and it broke your heart. You gave him a peck to the cheek, whispering that he’s safe here in hope that no more tears will be spilled but you suspected otherwise.

“Alright, you can sit down, I’m done,” Tobirama informed and you went to take a seat in front of his desk, when he got up, circling it and leaning against the top, intentionally placing his hands down on his sides not to scare the child further with his guarded form.

“Would you mind if I present your case?” you asked the boy and he nodded, hiding his little face in your neck. Smoothing his back, you looked up to your husband. “This little gentleman has lost both of his parents and is in need for a place to live. He asked me for help, afraid to come here alone.”

“Is that the Uchiha kid?” Tobirama asked, hinting that he knows something about the situation already.

“Kagami Uchiha, yes.”

“Earlier today I received a notice informing that his parents were assigned for a mission that failed,” he looked back at the scrolls he was reviewing earlier that day, trying to bring some details to his mind and an exhale assisted him coming to terms with the not-so-pleasant part of his work. So many years he wanted to achieve nothing else than peace where children wouldn’t have to suffer the war and yet, still conflicts result in sorrow. “Well, I will contact Uchihas to find a family for him, but I’m afraid it will take few days. Probably weeks. Up until this time, he’ll go to the orpha-“

“Would it be possible that you let me handle this issue and take care of this boy for the time we get an answer? I can pay a visit to Madara, it would be much quicker.”

Tobirama stayed silent for few moments, searching for a solution to the matter, just like he always does and you gave him the time to answer while smoothing Kagami’s back. Sensing the lack of wrath from your husband, he slowly began relaxing in your embrace, soon falling asleep on your shoulder, exhausted by everything that happened to him lately. You couldn’t imagine how distressed was that boy by losing both of his parents, losing his home and being forced to face a man that he was convinced hates him. During your previous talk, he even hinted that he’s afraid that Tobirama will kill him if he goes there alone.

“It might be slightly more efficient if you go to Madara yourself, since he has a soft spot for you,” your man spoke finally, crossing his arms over his chest, like he usually does when thinking about something. “Please, elaborate on taking care of him yourself?”

“Our home has more than enough space for this little one to spend few days in, without stressing him with the orphanage. If you’d agree, I promise I’ll take care of him so he won’t interrupt your routine.”

It was a lot to ask him, you were well aware of that but you were determined to help this baby out. Tobirama was mostly out of the house anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem to have a 5-year-old that would probably be sleeping all the time he’s back. The very thought of weighing this poor little soul with another burden such as orphanage was making your heart clench.

“Such a kind heart you have,” the man exhaled deeply, looking at the child that was sleeping cuddled to your body, feeling safe enough to allow himself to lose consciousness. “Always so keen to help the village.”

“Konoha is also my home now,” you smiled, “and this child did nothing wrong, he’s just six.”

“My schedule is full for the next days so I won’t be able to help you. Can you handle the issue alone?”

“I’m positive. I took care of many children in Yu, they always seem to like me,” you glanced at the boy, your face now stained with a soft smile. “And I’m sure that I can find a loving family to this baby by talking with people myself faster than the documents could.”

“So let be it,” Tobirama straightened up and you got up as well, happy to hear his response. “I should manage to prepare the documents by tomorrow, so they will be ready when you’re done with your search. Up until now, please make sure to provide what’s needed for this boy.”

“Yes, my Lord,” you smiled, giving him a kiss to the corner of his lips, before saying goodbye and leaving.

Tobirama stayed in place for a moment longer, his mind replaying the words you used to address him. It wasn’t out of ordinary for people to call him lord, he was hokage’s brother and arguably one of the most, if not the most important person in the village but you were the only one, who called him your Lord. He loved hearing those words, it made him feel like he was indeed yours and being yours came with pride to Tobirama. From the beginning he was focused on you staying by his side, and now, knowing how loving and pure-hearted you are, he was overjoyed to call himself yours. Your Lord, your husband, your dear. Everything you addressed him with made his heart flutter. You were really an angel sent from above and with that thought, he got back to work.

The night you spent sleeping in the guest room, next to the little boy that was too frightened to sleep alone in the foreign place, but relaxed immediately, feeling your body’s warmth next to him. To know you were a safe space for him, that he was able to find peace and security in you made your heart swell with joy.

The night you stayed alerted, sleeping lightly in order to notice if Kagami was having a calm dream and as the morning struck its light onto your face and you heard your husband getting ready to leave, you raised a little on your elbow. As if Tobirama sensed you’re awake, he peaked into the guest room, quietly approaching your side of the bed and motioning you to not leave the bed.

“Don’t get up, it’s alright,” he told you, taking a mental picture of how tenderly you kept the little boy to yourself. From the moment he’d seen you in his office the day before, he knew he won’t get the peace of mind now, his thoughts constantly circling around the depiction of you caring for your own child. Tobirama was never too keen on having his own spouse, hoping the bloodline will be passed down by Hashirama, but he couldn’t deny the image was tempting.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” you whispered. “I’ll bring you bento to your office.”

“Don’t worry about it. Was the night peaceful?”

“It was, yes”, you gave it a little nod, whilst Tobirama glanced at you two once again.

“I have to go now. You know where to find me.”

“Have a nice day.”

With a soft kiss planted on your temple, he was soon gone.

“He’s not that bad,” Kagami muttered against your chest and you smiled, smoothing his hair.

“Of course, he’s not,” you cooed quietly. “He may look scary, but has a good heart.”

Two weeks it took you to finalize the issue with Kagami and you couldn’t be happier with the outcome. The family you found with the help of Madara was a couple that couldn’t have their own children but dreamt of one. With tears they agreed to open their hearts to the young boy, thanking you, their ancestors and even gods for the gift and it thrilled you to know that he’s safe and sound now, with good people. The two were shinobi, with father that’s mid-ranked officer of Uchiha forces and a mother that’s skilled in ninjutsu, and you believed they can raise Kagami to be a powerful ninja in the future, that got to know parental love.

Collecting all of the documents and sharing few more moments with the boy, you promised him that he’s welcome to your home always and offered your help if he or his family needed anything. It broke your heart just a little to give him away, as you’ve become quite attached to him, but it was better for Kagami to grow among Uchihas, learn about their techniques and sharingan – things that you couldn’t teach him, especially when during the time you learned that a powerful ocular jutsu is coded in his blood line. You hoped that being raised with the clan will allow Kagami to grow into his full potential.

“Thank you, Madara,” you bowed slightly to the clan leader, when you were about to leave their district. “I think the family will cherish the future.”

“I think so too,” he responded. “I have to admit, it’s bold of you to involve in Uchiha matters, being a wife to Tobirama. You have my respect.”

“The child has nothing to do with the eternal conflict between your clan and the Senju. And I’m neither of those,” chuckling, you secured the scrolls into the pouch on your waist. “But I’m glad Kagami found a loving home, because if that wouldn’t be the case, I’d insist on raising him myself and that would make things a little complicated.”

“I imagine. You have a kind heart, I hope this world won’t corrupt it too quickly,” Madara lowered his head just slightly, in respect towards you. “If that’s all, I’ll return to my duties.”

“Of course. Thank you once again. I’ll leave now too.”

Exchanging quick goodbyes, you got back home to prepare food for your husband and while the rice was cooking, you tidied up a little. It was inevitable that a little bit of mess will set inside, as the child was staying there but it was nothing severe. Already missing Kagami, you sighed. The kid was just too adorable not to grow attached. He was just the right balance between quiet and loud, he loved to be hugged and often fell asleep while being in your embrace. With his little kisses on the cheek, you felt your heart flutter and grow, and even your husband, whom you wouldn’t call the best with children, liked the little Uchiha, although he would never admit it out loud. You noticed he was softer towards him; he even took the boy on his lap while in the office which was one of the most adorable moments you’ve witnessed, probably in your life. You were convinced he would agree if you asked to keep the baby, but that would be selfish of you. It truly was the best for him to be raised by Uchihas and just because you gave him to the new family didn’t mean you won’t ever see him again. You were informed to be welcome in their house whenever you feel like it and you also proclaimed yourself as the official aunt.

With the bento filled and packed, you locked the door and took a walk to the hokage office, where your husband also had his place but, in his workplace, you didn’t find him. Taking the liberty of entering without permission you approached his desk and placed the food and the scroll there, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen you sat down on his chair to write a note.

“Comfortable?” deep, familiar voice reached your ears when the doors opened and your husband entered his office. You looked up, watching him as he went across the room and before you reacted, he already pulled you away from the desk, grabbed your body like it weighted nothing and sat down, situating you on top of his thighs.

“Now I am,” you joked, kissing his cheek. “Good morning, my dear.”

“Good morning,” he took the letter you were writing and glanced over the text before putting it to one of his drawers. “How’s Kagami?”

“Safe in his new home. I already know he’ll be spoiled; they were on cloud nine taking him in. Madara was cooperative as well. I’d say everything went well,” you briefed, smoothing over the back of his neck. “All details and documents are inside those scrolls I brought you. I made sure to fill them to your standards.”

“I’m sure you did,” he chuckled. “Thank you for lunch.”

A smile bloomed on your face. “You’re welcome, my love.”

Love. That was the first time he heard this one specific word coming from your mouth and he wondered for a second if he misheard you, because surely, he had to. Love was a strong word, even though it wasn’t a confession, it still held one heavy emotional impact and Tobirama was convinced that love wasn’t what’s between you two. He loves you, yes. How could he not if you’re such a good person? A great shinobi that was ready to die for the village that wasn’t even your own, a golden heart keen to help everyone, a woman beautiful inside and outside. A perfect human being that he had the luck to marry through the political arrangement. But you had not that much reason to fall for him. You were patient and kind to him, just as you were to everybody else. You touched him, but you told him before marriage that it's your way of showing affection. You got up every day so early only to wish him a great day and make sure he has something to eat, even though you could sleep for a little longer before starting your day. Could that be out of love and not out of wife’s duty?

“I have one more meeting today and it’s possible I’ll be free a little earlier today,” he said finally, breaking out of his own spiral of overthinking, “would you want to join me for a walk this evening?”

“I would absolutely love to,” smiling, you leaned your head over his shoulder, inhaling his scent gently pulling down his collar so you could press your lips against his skin. “I shouldn’t take your time while you’re at work, should I?”

“I have few more minutes before I need to leave for a meeting and I’ll gladly give those to you.”

“In that case, I’ll gladly accept them.”

It didn’t take long for Tobirama’s lips to find yours, locking them in a kiss filled with longing. He himself was surprised of how much his body yearned for the closeness of yours, after two weeks of very limited contact due to a child in your home that consumed all of your attention. You’ve got him so used to your affections that he found himself unable to exist correctly without them. What have you done to him? All of his life, Tobirama believed that emotional attachment was a barrier; that it’s something he cannot afford in order to stay strong and reliable, but you proved him wrong. You proved that not only he needs feelings in his life but also, they make him stronger than he was before. You made him stronger; you made him a better leader; you showed him that softness isn’t synonymous to weakness and the young Senju liked who he’d become with you by his side.

You could feel how hungry your man was, how starved of affection he had become in just those few days and it thrilled you, excitement coursing through your veins as you run your fingers through his silver hair. At the beginning, although agreeing to your touches, he wasn’t keen to reciprocate your gestures. He had to learn how to be physical with you, because before that only contact that involved two bodies was confined to battle. But Tobirama being a smart man, learned quickly that it’s not unusual for couples to share touches, to kiss, to sleep together. He learned that intimacy is first and foremost for pleasure, not only to reproduce. All of it made you happy. It meant he had opened to you, dropped down his guard and let you into his world that before you was strictly restricted to laws and orders.

 Biting on his lower lip you smiled, letting your hand brush the nape of his neck. Taking in his little gasp, you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his and smoothing the light skin of his cheek, avoiding the red dashes he painted on his face every morning.

“What have you done to me?” he whispered, calming his breath.

“You’re welcome,” kissing him once more, you got up from his legs. “When should I expect you?”

“I’ll wrap things up around 8PM.”

“So, I’ll pick you up at 8. We’re set. Now, focus on the meeting and don’t forget to eat, alright?”

“Alright.”

[sunyandmony]

"As the founder of Playtime CO. I, Elliot Ludwig, announce the grand opening of the Playcare! Where we hope that we can bring a smile to all the children visiting and more happiness in their life... F̘͍͖ͫ͘o̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ ḿ̬̏ͤͅo̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕.."

More under cut ⬇

Hihi everyone, it's me!! Your silly:D

After starting this series I knew that all my characters would need a introduction, and with that I also came to the conclusion that I'll give extra the effort to make even some fun facts! For now yes there's only one au for Poppy Playtime, but I plan on making more that I'll take a darker approach with towards the series! (As I myself was not TOO pleased to find out how much cool stuff was scrapped in the newest chapter just to make it merchandiseable..Not saying it's bad, but could've been better!)

Anyways, aside from that all, I present you with the facts!!

Head canons for any aus I have made/will make! (counts for both reality universes and cartoon universes):

🌥️Dogday is actually a very timid being, even if he's brave on the outside when in danger. He is actually the softest at heart and this has got him in trouble with staff/kids/parents/teenagers...Dogday and Catnap were originally made to perform together on a stage, a show for kids that happens once per week. The idea was scrapped and they became attractions at the playcare with Miss Delight. Dogday also likes sightseeing, which is why his area is made specifically for that!!

🌙Catnap definitely is a mood, since he's always distant from people he doesn't like. He opens up so hardly that he mostly gets along with Dogday and the other smiling critters only. He hates adults/parents for a reason... He is very chill and laid back around kids. Catnap was originally supposed to wear clothes, but the idea was scrapped and he was simply given a charm. His prototype outfit did have a blue nightcap, but it was thrown away. Catnap however found it and kept it to himself. His tail can also infinitely stretch!

❤Bobby is the more motherly in nature, and she's always the one to help out overwhelmed kids, since it's part of her. She always helps the others to find the good in themselves and helps them with their emotions, mostly Kickin' and Hoppy are her main focus. She's always gonna be there to listen to you and give advice, or directly try to help(which once get her in trouble, since she's not supposed to go out of the playcare without permission). Over time she has made a quiet corner in the outskirts of the playcare and helped kids find their way there in case they don't like the playcare as is.

🍰Picky is the chef! Something you don't know about cooking or food? She knows it! She's the one that makes food for the orphans and kids, during the day she also secretly sneaks snacks outside to give to the kids since usually they were getting thrown out on a daily. She hasn't been once caught, her stealth always helped out. Picky can also secretly sing just as good as Catnap, since she's there most of the times during nap time to help him out. She just doesn't sing in public.. She also has her own restaurant!!

🧘‍♀️Hoppy is the most agile and has the best reflexes (alongside Kickin'), she always exercises which made the staff make her a separate area which is now a free daily course for kids to learn sports. She always slows down and repeats even twenty times what she said just so the one listening to her can understand what she's trying to say! She always leaves a cold first impression, but the more you know her, the more she opens up! She's the enthusiastic one of the critters!

🏃‍♂️Kickin' is the fastest out of everyone! He's a bit competitive but he never goes too far!! Since he doesn't want to hurt anyone or overdo anything (such as the races in the race away area). He won't bother you if you say 'no' ever again. He respects everyone just as much as they respect him. He looks up to Dogday as a leader, taking examples of kindness from him and trying to recreate them(half of the times failing and actually needing one of his friend's help) to become a better critter.

🎨Crafty is one of the best art teachers! She helps out the kids that like art to improve, giving advice and examples!! She will do the same lesson even ten times just so everyone understands. She doesn't let anyone fall behind! She always gets free time to help everyone, from making people happy to doing bets with Kickin' or painting the 'sky' with a disabled kid, nothing is too much for her!! Dogday keeps calling her out, but she doesn't want to admit it every single time he says it. Crafty always takes her time with her work even if it takes hours, or even days. She won't hurry anything up, because a job is only properly done if it's with patience! Crafty has (asked for) made her own art atelier, in which she does everything with the kids or adults that are interested. She does not have any exceptions just because of age!

💡Bubba is as smart as can be, of course smarter than the average person in their life. From helping kids that go to school with homework to helping the orphans learn anything they want, he will do it all! He won't judge you if you can't learn as fast as other kids, or anything of the like. He has no favorite students. Bubba works alongside Miss Delight in the school, entertaining the kids and being the teacher for other lessons that the Miss Delight teachers won't teach/aren't able to teach(even if they want to).

This all will also be linked in the master post just so anyone new can find it!!:3

Asks are open for everyone, so don't be shy! Even if you're not from the fandom or don't know anything, don't be afraid!

Anything about the au you want to know from me? Just specify it's towards the mod and I'll answer!

Anything directed towards the characters doesn't have to be specified!(if it's in context with everything happening, if not, specify!!!)

Some time later I'll also make a FAQ(frequently asked questions) in case some of them get repetitive! (Which will also be linked in the master post!)

Hope this was worth your time:(

[vivithefolle]

You seem to be really against Hermione for the bird incident, but don’t seem to care much about Harry sending Hedwig to claw at Ron and Hermione during the summer preceding fifth year, why is that?(/gen) You also seem to ship Ronarry. Is it just because she’s the canon love interest that you’re so upset? I know Harry regretted telling Hedwig to do what she did afterwards, but I don’t remember him ever apologizing to Ron and Hermione. How can we know that Hermione didn’t apologize to Ron after he came back in Deathly Hallows but before the battle of hogwarts?(I agree with your opinions on Hermione in general, I’m just curious.)

If you don't know, I've made some jokes about how Harmony shippers are right about Harry and Hermione having something in common, which is that they both sent birds to attack Ron.

Harry doesn't interest me nearly as much as Hermione because to be frank he's pretty much just... the most boring character in the series to me. I like him for his Ron-loving potential which is pretty off the charts when Rowling isn't actively using Ron as a stepping stone for Harry and Hermione to look better.

I'm actually a pretty big Romione shipper even if I myself get confused about what I'm mad about sometimes. Honestly, it's just that I've kinda had it with people constantly writing Ron fucking up and having to make it up to Hermione, I want her to be fucking up and making it up to him and it not being considered a Crime Against Women Everywhere because yeah, women fuck up and hurt men too, men also get abused or shat on by women, it happens. Hermione as she is has a pretty toxic mentality, what with her often using violence completely casually (her first "big heroic moment" in the series is to set a man on fire) coupled with that shitty tendency of Rowling to use "Hermione on the verge of tears" as a kind of sedative to make the average reader go "who cares what Hermione did before, she's crying NOW and that's UNFORGIVABLE, PROTECT HER".

But, Harry himself also has a system like that, by virtue of being Our Poor Orphan Protagonist. Honestly, I hate to say it but Potterheads read another book because yes, Harry is nothing new, when an author wants you to root for their protagonist they give them a backstory that makes you want good things for them, yes Harry's suffering is just all destined to make you attached to him and meant to make you think everything that ever happens to HIM personally is automatically The Most Horrible Thing Ever To Happen To Anyone Ever and I'm kinda done with that as a whole because of fandom experience. I can only tell people to pay attention to what Ron goes through only to be rebuked by a "but look how hard Harry had it, in comparison Ron is a baby" so many times before I get completely soured and decide that the character they feel so sad for doesn't need any more people to feel sorry for.

... I don't know if I'm being clear. But yeah I function mostly through pure spite nowadays.

I know Harry regretted telling Hedwig to do what she did afterwards, but I don’t remember him ever apologizing to Ron and Hermione.

He did say a token sorry to Ron specifically:

He showed Harry the index finger of his right hand, which sported a half-healed but clearly deep cut. ‘Oh, yeah,’ Harry said. ‘Sorry about that, but I wanted answers, you know –’

(I say "token" because yeah it's not really an apology given how it's immediately followed by a justification.)

Hermione however?

‘He seemed to think it was best,’ said Hermione rather breathlessly. ‘Dumbledore, I mean.’ ‘Right,’ said Harry. He noticed that her hands, too, bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry.

WOOP WOOP FEEL THE HARMONY YET

How can we know that Hermione didn’t apologize to Ron after he came back in Deathly Hallows but before the battle of hogwarts?

Honestly she can have apologized anytime, I'd just like it to be shown to me, and I'd like it to mean something.

While for example @divagonzo believes that after Malfoy Manor Hermione realizes her own mortality and blunts her sharper edges, I still remember the scene where Ron isn't sure they can trust Griphook and Hermione immediately insult him for being racist. Yeah, if that's blunting her sharp edges then I sure hope she's got other ways to do it otherwise she's gonna need a lot more Malfoy Manors.

As it stands, Harry and Hermione are really underdeveloped and bare-bones. If Harry has a character arc then I've missed it entirely because while he does realize that Snape has reasons and shit he's still kinda hating on him all through OOTP, HBP and DH until the Epilogue pulls the rug from beneath our feet. Hermione has moments indicating there's some things happening - her arc with Luna in OOTP is neat, in DH she finally learned to thank Ron for complimenting her - but aside from that she never is confronted to actual failure, to actual dilemnas, to actual problems without a true "I'm right you're wrong" solution - we only see her "being right" without anything exploring what she COULD be beyond "being right".

Which leaves Ron to shoulder the burden of having to do character development for two static characters that amount to "male role model" and "female role model". Ron IS confronted with failure, with actual dilemnas to which there's no easy answer or solution, Ron IS confronted with his personal character flaws... in pretty much every book, he's kept in a loop of "complete character arc" -> "oh no JKR needs drama to happen and she can't have Role Model 1 & 2 do it because they're supposed to be Above Mere Mortals" -> "backtrack on Ron's character arc so he can cause the drama so she doesn't have to strain her brain too hard", which is pretty obviously a disservice to Ron's character. And sadly, the fandom picks up on it but takes the wrong message from it: instead of realizing "wait, Rowling is violating the rules of good storytelling by constantly backtracking on her one good and complex character's development all so she doesn't have to risk Harry and Hermione's popularity by using their character flaws to create conflict", the fandom instead goes "ugh Ron is always causing messes while Harry and Hermione always have their hearts in the right place and always want what's best and anyway if they ever did something bad it's because they were forced by the situation".

It's... upsetting.

[athena-cat-wizard-official]

Reccomending Gundam is like: "oh, i want to reccomend Gundam Unicorn, but that wont make any sesne if you haven't watched Char's Counterattack. but. hu. that doesn't really work well unless you've seen the original series, or at least the compilation movies. And tbh Gundam Unicorn works best if you've watched Zeta and Double Zeta, but the frst half of Double Zeta kinda sucks? Also 08th MS team is soo sooo sooooo good but its only 12 episodes and not related to anything else. still watch it though. And then i want to reccomend NON UC gundam, but there's so much? Like, watch IBO and Witch From Mercury for sure. but you should also try older stuff. SEED is really good but everyone hated SEED destiny, but theres a new SEED movie in 2023? also watch Turn A gundam and Gundam Wing totally, but i haven't seen them yet they're just in everyone elses recommend lists. Also some AUs feel like they'e connected to the UC canon but aren't at all, like 00 gundam. so like, watch them before or after UC? who knows. also theres late UC which happens, like, 50 or so years after the main series (0079). And that has an entire new enemy and new mobile suits and such, that are really barely connected to the original UC events, but there's apparently some good stuff there, like F91 and Victory (i didnt really like ep1 of victory so i never gave it a go). So do I reccommend that? do i tell people to start with late UC given you dont need early UC to understand it? Oh god oh fuck what about gundam build fighters!??! How do you even explain that" Anyway, if you liked Gundam Witch From Mercury, I think a good place to start is with 08th MS Team for a taster of UC, or Iron Blooded Orphans for a darker Gundam show with similar formatting, characters, and themes to G-Witch, but better pacing.