#ive never had such an intense visit

[theloveinc]

wow therapy was so awful

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

me for the majority of the night:

me remembering that my grandma gave me a quilt that was handmade in the 60s by my great grandma:

[phant0mth1ef]

i’ve never felt so alone, felt so alone.

tw: depressive themes

-

the war took its’ toll on people in such different ways. and bakugou katsuki, god, he swore he got the worst of the aftermath.

he didn’t know you. never bothered to even learn your name or to learn what hero academy that you’d been attending up to now. and yet here you were, in the same intense therapy group that he was. refusing to share your secrets or what you’d seen with anyone.

he could see it in your eyes that you were physically trapped in some sort of headspace and you couldn’t get out.

you would both attend your hospital mandated therapy daily, sit down, not say a word to anyone, then leave. it was routine at this point.

he’d seen you around the hospital a couple times, trudging around while tugging your iv alongside you.

what was your story?

he’d learned about you when his classmates had come to visit, they’d been loudmouthing about a girl from shiketsu who was completely torn down after the war. a girl who’d been kidnapped by the league and forced to fight under all for one’s control.

he’d used a marionette type quirk on you, controlling you as if you were some puppet in his game. under the influence of this quirk, you’d stopped thinking altogether. controlling someone’s body and controlling someone’s mind wasn’t as hard for him.

bakugou didn’t talk much. how was he supposed to bounce back after being dead one minute and revived the next? it takes a toll on your mental stability.

for all those at the hospital who were enrolled in the intensive therapy regimen, there was also a mandatory movie night where they’d put on something like a hallmark film to help you all bounce back.

you’d frequently sit in the back with bakugou, comfortable silence.

he’d watched you, the first time he saw you laugh was like something straight out of the movie you were watching.

you’d watch him too, seeking his comforting presence as he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand the movie.

neither of you knew it, but you’d become the other’s person.

[caramelt4me]

Secret. - Part I

(Yandere Idol X Kidnapped Reader)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Prologue Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

"Welcome to another episode of Guilty Files, the true crime podcast," a smooth, steady voice resonates from the speakers, breaking the quiet of the cabin. "I’m Liza Lee, and today, we’re diving into the twisted world of a once-revered artist whose obsession blurred the line between inspiration and imprisonment. Picture a cramped underground cell, buried deep where not a trace of daylight can reach..."

𝕋he words rolled over you as you popped another piece of chocolate into your mouth, the crinkling of the golden wrapper slicing through the eerie silence of the cabin. In your other hand, you gripped your tablet, eyes darting between the podcast on the smart TV across the room and the game on your screen. You tapped, swiped, keeping your character alive in a never-ending digital fight, but your attention waned, drifting back to the story Liza Lee was telling.

"Concrete walls press in like silent witnesses, their cold, gray expanse offering no comfort, no reprieve—only an endless reminder of isolation."

The imagery was haunting, yet somehow familiar. You shifted under the plush, oversized blanket draped over you. The half-crocheted flower bouquet beside you slipped down the side of the bed, one of the chunky needles clattering to the soft rug below, muffled by its thick fibers.

In this cabin, you had everything you could ever want. Soft blankets, a bed that felt like clouds, endless books, music, and streaming—all set up by the person who insisted you stay here. Asher, your lover. Or was he your captor? If you were being honest, the lines had blurred a while ago. He’d kept you close, away from your old life, the outside world fading like a dream. But he treated you so preciously, as though you were something rare, something he couldn’t bear to lose.

"But here’s the unsettling part—why was she taken? Was this about money? A ransom demand? Or perhaps the twisted satisfaction of a serial abductor?"

The voice from the podcast tugged your focus back, pulling you into the story of Mary Gomez, trapped in an underground cell. Your brows knit together as you listened. Mary had been taken, not for money or revenge, but because of an artist’s obsession. He saw something in her, something he needed to capture, even if it meant keeping her caged like a bird with clipped wings.

You tried to concentrate on your game, fingers dancing over the screen, but even that failed to hold your interest for long. In this luxurious prison of yours, you had come to know restlessness intimately.

However, it wasn’t as stark as Mary’s despairing cell. Here, there were warm fires, soft lights, books, snacks... every comfort, every amenity you could want. And he visited often, bringing you gifts, spending hours talking with you, looking at you as if you’re something exquisite, something he can never get enough of.

"Imagine your shock when I tell you that her captor wasn’t after money, vengeance, or some misguided obsession with power. No, the reason she was confined, cut off from the world, was far more chilling."

Your mind flitted to your lover, his face flashing in your thoughts—his deep gaze, that intense stare that seemed to see through to your core. You weren’t locked in here, not really; you could leave if you chose.

But whenever the thought crossed your mind, his face, his words, his touch all came back to you, lingering like the faintest, sweetest perfume, coaxing you to stay.

This wasn’t a prison, you tell yourself. Not like Mary’s.

And yet...

"Her captor was none other than Ethan Hawthorne, the celebrated artist whose portraits once graced galleries worldwide. And his only motive? She refused to be his muse."

Liza’s voice felt sharp, unnervingly close to your situation, though you quickly shook off the thought.

Your blanket slipped further, leaving your shoulders cold, so you drew it back up, cocooning yourself in its softness. You glanced around the cabin, absorbing the contrast—the wide windows that open to endless forests, the soft, golden lights casting a cozy glow, the warmth that lingered in the air.

But beneath the comfort was an echo of something else.

How different, really, was your situation from Mary’s?

You shifted in bed, restless, caught between enjoying the comfort around you and feeling trapped by it. The podcast droned on, the story growing darker.

"Ethan, obsessed with preserving her raw, unyielding spirit, imprisoned her in his hidden studio, using her as his living, breathing canvas. With every stroke of his brush, he drew from her the emotions she tried so hard to hide—hope, despair, defiance, and, eventually, resignation."

A shiver ran through you. The parallel wasn’t lost on you. You had felt his eyes on you just like that, watching, waiting, always intent, as if he was trying to absorb every nuance, every fleeting emotion. But he wasn’t a mad painter, you tell yourself. You weren’t his muse.

Yet here you were, tucked away from the world, drawn deeper into his orbit, just as Mary was.

"Then came Ethan’s final piece, hauntingly titled Peace. The painting was his last, capturing Mary in a moment of final, tragic release—her last act of agency."

Your finger paused mid-swipe, frozen above the screen. You think of Mary’s tragic end, of the way she lost herself to him, bit by bit, until there was nothing left. And how Ethan, too, met his end shortly after. Your heart raced, and for the first time, you wondered what your lover might do if you ever tried to leave, if you ever finally grew tired of his quiet, smothering devotion.

"This is the story we’ll unravel today, piece by piece, exploring the mind of a madman and the victim who became his tragic masterpiece."

The podcast hummed on, filling the room with its haunting tones, but you barely cared to listen anymore.

Minutes blurred into hours as the voice from Guilty Files looped again and again due to the auto-reply setting – like a haunting lullaby as the night deepened and stretched into dawn.

You couldn’t remember when exactly you stopped feeling afraid, when the days of forcing yourself to stay awake, tense and watchful of his every move, faded into a quiet, almost comforting vigilance.

Your body hardly held up against the sleep deprivation anymore—the growing dark circles beneath your eyes, a permanent reminder of the restless nights.

A half-smile tugged at your lips as you realized how things have changed.

You once stayed awake out of sheer instinct to protect yourself, to be alert in case you needed to run or fight. Now, it was almost the opposite. Without him here, sleep barely found you. Nights felt endless, stretching on with a kind of hollow ache in his absence.

You shook your head with a soft chuckle, wondering how those intense feelings of repulsion, resentment, and distrust had morphed over time.

You hadn’t erased them from your memory—no, the past lingered somewhere in your mind like a hazy bruise, its details blurry, softened by months of peace. But now, those feelings felt foreign, detached from who you had become.

It should feel wrong, this quiet dependency.

But instead, there was a numbness, a void that only grew the longer you were alone.

Without him, hours slipped by, each minute swallowed up by the white noise in your mind. The days bled together, your once-sharp memories of the outside world fading with each passing sunrise.

You shifted on the bed, feeling a strange pull in your chest, something close to yearning.

He had been the only person you had seen, touched, spoken to for over a year then.

The only one whose warmth had brushed against your skin, whose heartbeat you had felt under your fingertips, whose gaze had persisted on you like a steady, consuming flame. His scent lingered; faint but intoxicating, grounding you even in his absence.

His azure eyes could pierce through you, could see you in a way no one else ever had. And despite the circumstances – despite everything, the thought of his presence was enough to quiet your mind.

He was your lifeline, you realized.

But still, a flicker of doubt remained, persistent and insidious. A small voice whispered from some dark corner of your mind, wondering if, one day, you would end up like Mary and Ethan. If their story—so far removed, yet so disturbingly familiar—might someday become your own. The thought clawed at you, fed your anxiety, a spiraling threat you couldn’t shake. You closed your eyes, the intrusive thoughts circling, until—

A familiar voice, low and steady, broke through the fog.

“You’re still awake?”

You turn, eyes wide and heart pounding, as his silhouette fills the doorway. He was here. Just the sound of his voice pulled you back to yourself, the steady beat of his presence grounding you.

You remain frozen, eyes fixed on the partially open door, waiting for him to step into the room. It had been nearly two weeks since you had last seen him, and by then, you weren’t sure if it was just another trick your mind was playing to keep you company. Normally, you would have leapt up, rushing to the door to greet him, craving his presence like a lovesick puppy. But that night, fatigue held you down, a heaviness that stilled even your reflexes.

The podcast still played softly in the background, its dark tale echoing through the room for him to hear. The voice of the host was sharp, unforgiving as it detailed the spiral of obsession and control. For a brief moment, you considered turning off the TV, dousing the flames before they ignited something. But the small voice in your head urged you to let it play. You weren’t forbidden from watching what you wanted—but the choice of a story that cut so close to your reality would undoubtedly provoke him. And that night, some reckless part of you wanted that.

It had been a long time since you’d felt the fire of rebellion. These days, your resistance had dulled, your heart no longer set on escape. But a strange desire lingered to test his patience, to push him and see what might lie beyond that endless restraint he showed you. If he could shatter into the darker version of himself that you had glimpsed once, if he could give you a reason to feel that old, familiar defiance… maybe then you’d feel the spark to resist, to remember the drive to escape.

You finally heard his footsteps from the dim hallway, and then he was there – standing at the edge of the bedroom, his gaze locked on the TV screen.

He looked… different. The warmth that usually softened his features was gone; his face was unreadable, lips pressed tight, eyes focused intently on the flickering screen. In the pale glow of the TV, he looked cold, a shadow of the man you’d caught a rare glimpse of when he was with his manager. Mr. Baek was his name, you remembered.

But then, his expression shifted. His shoulders tensed, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed, seeming to struggle against something unsaid. His azure eyes met yours, and for one wild, exhilarating moment, you braced yourself, expecting the crack of anger, the explosion of emotion you had tried to provoke. But instead, his gaze wasn’t clouded with betrayal or fury—it was softened, tingling with something like… worry.

A pang of frustration twisted within you, and you felt yourself frowning slightly. Every time you tried to defy him, to lash out or make him question you, it would be always the same.

Rather than reacting with the anger you expected, he looked at you with concern, as if worried you might have accidentally hurt yourself in the process. Your resistance had become something almost… childish, a temper tantrum to him, and he was the unshakable adult, the one who only wanted to make sure you were safe.

You were caught between loathing and surrender when he finally walked toward you, his expression softening further with each step. He reached the bed, his hands warm and steady as they brushed gently against your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch melted something deep within you, that stubborn knot of defiance uncoiling despite your best efforts.

“Are you mad at me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and vulnerable. His eyes searched yours with a quiet, heartbreaking sincerity, like he was on the edge of breaking himself.

You opened your mouth to say something sharp, something that might salvage a piece of your independence, but the words catch in your throat.

“No,” you said instead, your voice small, subdued. You looked away, guilt creeping in despite yourself, a feeling that maybe letting the podcast play had been a step too far.

Maybe you had miscalculated the game, and were, instead of the satisfaction of resistance, were left with a hollow ache in your chest.

He leaned down, his lips brushing your forehead with a tenderness that nearly let you loose. “I’m sorry, baby. I kept you waiting for too long this time, didn’t I?”

The question hung between you, heavy and painfully intimate. You don’t answer, keeping your gaze fixed downward, hoping he wouldn’t see the storm of emotions threatening to break through. Your fingers clutched the edge of the blanket, grounding you, as you struggled against the pull of vulnerability he drew from you so effortlessly. In your silence, he lingered, his thumb brushing over your aching lips, a gentle reminder of the hold he had over you.

And as the light outside began to creep in, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was any part of you left that could still muster the will to leave.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

@shadowytravelerlover

[amuyyi]

How Sweet .

synopsis: you somehow find yourself in Vietnam with your best friend Hanni, and the heavy southeast asian heat leaves hanni to her own devices... trope: non-idol!hanni x non-idol!f!reader, best friends to lovers, summer vacation, high school seniors, fluff

wc: 3.9k

cw: none

a/n: hello hello! this is my first fanfic in a long long time, and ive never shared on tumblr before.. but i love hanni's fuckass bob ! please let me know what you guys think, im bit rusty in terms of writing ^^'

-------------------

“So… What do you think?”

You stare at your best friend, mouth agape in complete and utter shock as Hanni stood in front of you. With a sheepish expression on her face, your eyes glaze over the silver blades within Hanni’s left hand as she holds a long lock of her naturally jet black air within her right. As your eyes travel upwards, you’re met with a rather uneven, extremely choppy bob planted on the top of your friend’s head alongside some hastily cut bangs. You would’ve thought it was a poorly done wig if she wasn't already holding evidence of her own wrongdoing within her hands. There's an uncomfortable silence that passes between the two of you as you simply stare, your jaw practically threatening to fall off of the base of your skull as you could see the other girl’s eye twitching ever so slightly in response to your silence. 

“Can you please say something?! It's not that bad I swear!” The vietnamese girl whines out, spinning on her heel and making her way back towards the bathroom where she had initially emerged. With Hanni no longer in your line of sight, you snap out of your daze, shaking your head as your brows knit together in confusion, just now beginning to fully process what you had just seen. You practically fall out of your seat on the couch as you scramble to your feet, following after the other girl as you call out, “wait, wait, what?! When did you do that???”

Hanni had made plans for the summer to visit her family back in Vietnam, and had graciously extended an offer for you to join. Excited and albeit a bit nervous, you instantly agreed, having been meaning to make some fun summer plans between the two of you for a while now. Your best friend’s family was sweet, having met her grandmother alongside a few aunts, uncles, and multiple younger cousins who were all pleased to meet your acquaintance. 

Despite the lovely first day of introductions and adjusting to the horrible jet lag you two experienced once landing, you soon learned that summers in Vietnam were, for lack of a better word, brutal. For the entirety of Southeast Asia, the heat during these months were ruthless, practically leaving everyone in sight panting, sweating, and doing anything possible in order to relieve themselves from the scorching sun– and the humidity. Oh, the humidity. The air felt thick and heavy in a way you’ve never experienced before. It almost felt hard to breathe sometimes because everything around you just felt so… sticky. How did Vietnam manage to make even a supposed nice summer breeze feel hot? Hanni had conveniently managed to not mention the intensity of the weather at the time, and as a result, left you two practically melting into the couch, marinating within your own sweat as Hanni’s grandmother left the two of you home alone for the day.

You practically break down the door to the bathroom to find a distressed Hanni increasingly becoming more panicked the longer she looks at her reflection.  “My Ba used to always cut my hair like this whenever I visited over the summer, I thought it’d be easy to replicate!” Hanni exclaims, staring herself down within the mirror as she tries to assess the damage that has been done at every angle possible. Honestly, the whole situation was almost too good. Almost like a scene from a sitcom or something.

Fighting back a snort, you smirk teasingly, “has she always made it so uneven?” Your unsolicited comment left Hanni clicking her tongue in offense, raising her hand holding the scissors threatening to hit you before shifting her gaze back towards the mirror, letting out a distressed groan in defeat. “I don’t even know what came over me, y/n. I think this unbearable heat actually fried my brain,” she runs her free hand through her hair, some poorly cut strands falling out as she winces, “I don’t know! I don’t know! My Ba made it look so easy!” You watch as her eyes dart around, not talking to anyone in particular as the panic seemingly begins to take over, “I can fix it though! If i just cut–”

“Nope.” You firmly grab Hanni’s wrist as she begins to lift the scissors back up towards her hair, cutting her words short as you wrestle the blades out of her grip. “Y/n–” she starts, “Hanni.” You begin, your voice a tone that is similar to that of an owner telling a dog to sit, eyebrows raised and head cocked to the side as you lock eyes with your friend. She silently stares back, mouth open as if to retort, but it soon closes as she sighs, sitting down on a nearby stool in defeat as you also let out a breath you didnt you know you were holding. At least she didn't have free reign over the scissors. 

“Now let me see what I can do about… this,” You hum, dragging the stool closer to where you stood as you get a better look at Hanni’s hair. The scissors she used were very obviously not haircutting scissors, but you doubted she had anything better on hand. Alongside that, she somehow managed to cut drastically uneven halves of her hair, and it was obvious the cuts on both the left and right side were not a clean process, leaving multiple bluntly chopped bits all within her hair. As for the bangs, thankfully she didn’t cut them too short, actually leaving a lot of hair left to work with. Knowing Hanni, she was probably too scared to commit to the act after seeing what she did to the rest of her hair. Now, you were no hair cutting expert, but anyone with eyes could see what needed to be done in order to fix this mess. Hanni awkwardly avoids eye contact seemingly out of embarrassment as you examine her, eyes looking practically anywhere but within yours as you contemplate your next steps, her cheeks faintly dusted a light shade of pink. You raise the scissors and start off by trying to even out both sides of her hair, the quiet snipping sounds filling the bathroom as Hanni sits up as straight as she can, hands placed a bit too formally on her lap. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“Apparently more than you.”

“That's not very comforting.”

“I can always leave your hair like this.”

“Don’t you dare, y/n.” 

Soft, lighthearted giggles erupt from the bathroom as the banter between you two continues. Even in a situation like this, you and Hanni always managed to make each other smile– It's what drew you two to each other. You recall the day you two first met. Through some common friends or the other, somehow you ended up at a picnic within the local park, Hanni being one of the first to arrive. She had brought a container full of fruit to share, and practically dominated the conversation with her cheery attitude– but not in a suffocating kind of way. She somehow managed to know everyone who arrived and they all seemed to naturally flock towards the girl. You were no different than the people she attracted, but you were lucky enough to have her full attention the whole day, her large round eyes attentive and focused on you as you told stories and cracked with everyone. Ever since then, the two of you have been practically inseparable. Always waiting for each other after classes and somehow ending up in comical situations such as this.

After a few more snips of the scissors, you take a step back, taking in your work as Hanni’s eyes flutter open, blinking a bit as she stands up. She approaches the mirror, eyes lighting up as she sees the result. Thanks to your handiwork, her hair had ended up in a lovely dark layered bob with straight across bangs that actually looked intentional. It was a bit shorter than your liking, having the ends land just above her chin, but the other girl didn’t give you much to work with.

“Wow, this actually looks… really good.” Hanni spoke, her voice laced with awe as she continued to admire her reflection, “I kind of look like Mathilda! Y'know, from that kid assassin movie or whatever?” She comments, looking back at you expectantly as you pretend to think for a moment.

“Ah.. That's unfortunate, I was really trying to go for an Edna Mode kind of look… Maybe a bowl cut…” You trail off, feigning regret as you twirl the scissors in your hand, eliciting a snort from Hanni, punching you in the shoulder as you let out a laugh. 

The other girl doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug though, even through all of the laughter, and you tense up for only a moment before melting into her touch, your arms wrapping around her waist as her arms snake comfortably around your neck. The light smell of flowers emerges from the embrace, unintentionally causing you to sigh with pleasure as you can feel the vibrations of Hanni giggling into your neck in response. The feeling left your stomach fluttering with butterflies for some reason. Hanni had always smelt really nice, but this time it was a little different– a little more fresh? Maybe the tropical air was doing something to her. 

“Thank you,” you hear her whisper into your ear gently, and you could feel your cheeks warm at the praise as you pull back shyly tucking a strand of your own hair behind your ear as you shrug, “It really was no big deal,” You trail off as Hanni’s gaze shifts back onto her reflection. “Still, I wasn't expecting it to be so… Short.”

You arch a brow at her as you bluntly state, “Well you didn't give me a whole lot of leeway with your little scissor-happy act over there,” which rewarded you with another punch on the shoulder and a tongue stuck out in a childish manner from the short haired girl.

As the two of you exit the bathroom, Hanni lets out a relieved sigh, “aaah, that feels SO much better!” She cooes, stretching her arms and shaking her head, letting her short hair fly as she grins. You also smile at the sight of your friend so happy, but let out a tired breath shortly after. “Well I’m glad you like it, but it's still hot as hell in here.”

An imaginary lightbulb goes off within Hanni’s head as a grin forms on her lips. “I know a place, c’mon,” Hanni grabs your arm, guiding you outside as you immediately get hit with a wave of heat and a flash of light. Squinting, you use your free arm to try and shield your eyes from the sun above, “Do we HAVE to be outside?” You whine, feeling beads of sweat forming on your forehead almost instantaneously as you’re guided to a rather charming looking vespa parked nearby. It was pastel yellow in color, and had some stickers plastered on the side. You watch in awe as the other girl hops on it with confidence, taking a pair of keys out of her pocket as she pats the free seat behind her, “do you HAVE to keep complaining and not trust me?” 

You are once again brought back to a dumbfounded state as you slowly approach the vespa, admiring its quality and state before your eyes go back to Hanni, “Can you actually drive this thing? You never told me!” An almost cartoonish glimmer shines within her eyes as she winks, pressing a finger to her lips as she playfully grins, “There's a lot you don’t know about me, y/n.”

Very hesitantly, you slowly make your way onto the back seat of the vespa, awkwardly sitting as a brief second of silence passes. Hanni rolls her eyes, chuckling lightheartedly at your uncertainty as she grabs your arms and places them around her waist, “You can trust me with this y/n, I promise.” Her voice was soft and reassuring, and she looked at you with her all too familiar warm eyes that made it nearly impossible to not trust her at that very moment. Besides, Hanni wouldn’t actually let you get hurt, you knew that much. Reluctantly, you let out a sigh and tighten your grip on Hanni’s waist, saying a soft “okay…” which resulted in an unseen smile from the other girl and the sound of the engine to rev confidently.

-

If there was one thing Ho Chi Minh City locals perfected, it was the art of organized chaotic traffic. You fearfully bite back a scream as you watch as oncoming traffic simply did not stop for anyone anywhere ever. People did not look before crossing the street and every vespa, motorbike, car, or other miscellaneous vehicle simply maneuvered around one other to get around. You swear your grip on Hanni at this point would cut off all circulation in her body as she lets out a loud and hearty laugh amongst the chaos, speeding up as she weaves in between pedestrians with ease, as if she's been doing this her entire life. “Hanni what the HELL–”

Soon enough the two of you made it out of the city, and Hanni guides you through the dusty terrain of the more rural areas of Vietnam. You were a bit nervous at first, unsure if you were a fan of the bumpy nature of the rocky road that was debatably either safer or more dangerous than those in the city. Once you realize Hanni was no longer entertaining your fears though, you take a moment to finally get out of your own head and live in the moment. Inhale. Exhale. Your eyes glisten as you take in the sights around you. It was so… Green. The lush flora coats the environment with a serene green glow, and the feeling of the wind flying through your hair was such a freeing feeling. Your grasp on Hanni loosens as you let out a loud cheer, laughing as you let everything go. The dappled spots of light from the overhead trees rush past your vision below as you look forward, spotting multiple ox and farmers ahead within the flooded fields. The clouds ahead looked so incredibly soft, and the sky looked bigger than ever– even bigger than how it looked on the plane ride here. You can't help but wonder if it were nighttime, would you be able to see the stars here? You press your cheek against Hanni’s back as you relish in the feeling for a bit, closing your eyes in bliss as the sounds of the nature around you fade.

Before you knew it, the green forestry surrounding you was slowly diminishing, eventually being replaced with a more beige sandy soil. A small gasp leaves your lips as you look out, spotting a small beach with an even larger body of water. The waves glistened beneath the summer sun and you were surprised such a place had absolutely no human traffic. “I found this place when I first got Sunny here,” Hanni practically reads your mind, also glancing over at the ocean before finding a place to park her vespa and hop off, “It's a place the locals keep a secret, and now you also know of it as well.”

You tilt your head a bit in confusion at her comment, hopping off of the vehicle, “Sunny?” Hanni raises her eyebrow as she points to the back end of the Vespa, a large sticker labeled ‘Sunny’ in large white letters is proudly showcased on Hanni’s vespa, and you mentally facepalm as the other girl giggles. Still, it left a warm feeling within your chest knowing Hanni was sharing a hidden area like this with you.

“Come on, let's go in the water! It's hot out here!!” Hanni exclaims loudly, immediately booking it towards the ocean ahead, kicking her shoes off and into the sand in the process. Your eyes widen as you chase after her, hastily taking your shoes off as well as you call out, “Hanni, wait! We didn’t bring our swim suits!” You hissed a little as the sand was unrealistically hot from the sun practically cooking it throughout the day, muttering out little “ow, ow, ow’s” as you hopscotch your way into the water. You couldn't help but notice Hanni was unbothered by the temperature, her new hair allowing a newfound freshness within her step. It truly seemed like she was made for the beach.

“So…?” Hanni extends the word playfully with a grin, already calf deep into water by the time you awkwardly trudge through the ocean towards her, kicking up liquid in the process and splashing Hanni’s shorts. She gasps in shock at the cold sensation and you open your mouth to apologize before getting cut off by water getting shot directly into your face. Salty water entered your mouth and nearly up your nose and you spat it out, wiping your face with your hands as your eyes focused and landed on the culprit, who stared at you with a mischievous grin, bent down within the water to prepare for her next attack. 

“Oh no you dont–” You immediately side step and just narrowly miss an icy cold splash of water before you, bending over to counterattack with twice as much. A high pitched scream followed by genuine laughter followed suit, and the two of you go at it for a little bit, splashing water back and forth in between fits of laughter, completely drenching your clothes. You were happy. Being here, being with her. You took a moment to truly take in the sight of the girl before you. Eyes crescent shaped as she laughs from her heart, a toothy open mouth grin that you knew was genuine and grew to love over the years, and the way her newly cut hair was soaked and stuck to her cheeks and forehead charmingly. You loved the energy Hanni always brought to the table, her constant smile and the endless surprises she had up her sleeve. You were glad she chose you of all people to be her best… friend.

…Oh.

Hanni however, is not aware of your current sentimental and affectionate internal thoughts towards her, and decides to up her game with a new strategy, smirking to herself as she backs up, building up energy while you were catching your breath. You were so worn out and lost within your own thoughts you only noticed the charging bob-haired girl all too late, “Hanni WAI–” 

Practically all of the air got knocked out of you as Hanni strikes you down with a full body bear hug, sending the both of you into the water with a loud splash. Satisfied with her work (and quite worn out by now) Hanni doesn’t even make an attempt to hold you down, going full dead fish on your chest with an innocent grin and multiple giggles as you prop yourself up within the water with your arms. Coughing pathetically, you use one of your hands to wipe your face and slick back your hair as you look at Hanni, who rests very comfortably between your legs and on your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist as she looks up at you with those big dark brown eyes. Your breath hitches as you realize how close your faces are to one another. It wasn’t like you two haven't been this physically close before, but that never stopped you from being flustered. Something about the way she looks at you sometimes always caught you off guard, and you never knew how to handle it. The last time this happened was at your last sleepover together, having talked about past crushes, relationships, and how dating would work after high school graduation. Something about the way she looked at you underneath the sheets after asking about your crushes made your mind go blank. She had that look in her eyes again, and it drove you crazy how you couldn't read it. Cheeks reddening, you instinctively whip your head away, needing to look at something other than Hanni to keep yourself propped up within the water.

Frowning at this reaction, Hanni reaches a hand up and cusps your cheek, guiding your head to face her once again, forcing you to make eye contact with her. “y/n…” Her tone was soft and airy, if anything it was a bit needy. The blush on your cheeks was apparent at this point, and you still had no idea why you were even blushing in the first place, but the way her eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second intensified the color tenfold. You watch as her eyebrows knit together and how she subconsciously bites her lip, a habit she had whenever she was lost in thought– a sight you were familiar with. Even so, it felt different this time. 

You watch as Hanni closes her eyes and leans in, softly pressing her lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss, a very hesitant one at that. Just a small peck. You could tell it was Hanni’s way of “testing the waters” (ba dum tss) but to you? It was everything. You quite literally felt fireworks within your stomach as she kissed you, and the shock left you simply frozen in place, eyes comically wide open for the very brief moment. All too soon, she pulls away. She looks up at you again, a glint of fear and uncertainty in her eyes as she waits for your reaction.

You take a moment to simply sit there dazed, mouth agape in the water once again as panic settles within Hanni at the silence. “Oh my god. I'm so sorry y/n. I-I thought—“ She had begun to hurriedly make her way off of your chest when you quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into you as you brought your lips together. Now it was Hanni’s turn to freeze up, but it was only for a moment. Almost immediately after, you could hear her blissfully sighing into the kiss as her arms snake their way around your neck, your free hand moving down her back and landing comfortably on the small of it.

Her lips were soft, and tasted ever so lightly like berries despite having been splashed with saltwater multiple times. You’d never think you’d find yourself within the beaches of Vietnam, kissing your best friend, yet here you were. The sound of waves surrounds the two of you as you find yourself lost within the movements of her lips. You felt her pull away for air and you almost let out a whine at the sudden lack of contact before she starts peppering kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, everywhere. “You look so pretty right now y/n-nie~” Hanni cooes as you roll your eyes, pulling her in closer as she focuses her kisses onto your cheek. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” you tease, getting a hum in response as Hanni brings you back in for another kiss, whispering “you have no idea..”

“So… Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“Do you not like me back, y/n?”

“Well… I don't know about that...”

“I'm going to leave you here.”

“Noooo~”

Several splashes and giggles erupted from the both of you, and suddenly summer just became a little sweeter.

[kasagia]

right hand IV mini spoiler?🤭

One spoiler may be that I'm doing everything I can to get IV published this week, on Friday at the latest (and I'll probably do it, keep your fingers crossed for me). 😅🙈

But here is a fragment of part IV: 😈😈

(...)

"Yeah… he can be quite a pain in the ass." You nod, shifting your gaze to Feyd. He danced with Irulan. You try to ignore the pang in your heart, and without thinking much, you reach for two glasses, handing one to Fevas. The two of you make a quick toast, and you're relieved to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol masking the unexpected bitterness you feel.

"Well, since he's busy... will you allow me the immense honour of having my toes trampled by you?" You look briefly at the harpies, considering his proposition. It wouldn't hurt anyone if you will have a one dance with your old friend, right?

One of the harpies nods at you while the other two stare daggers at Irulan. And in that very moment, you decide that you will not allow yourself to become another of Na-Baron's harpies. You'd rather die than become the other jealous woman.

"I am better dancer than I used to be. You can get very surprised." You respond flirtatiously, offering him your hand. You giggle, rolling your eyes as he leans down and plants a kiss on it.

"Really? Impossible. The last time you danced with me, I had to go to a medic to heal my poor, trampled toes."

"And yet you still want to dance with me..." You reply teasingly as he leads you to the dance floor. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you a little too close to him for comfort. But neither of you care.

You think it's nice to feel seen and desired. It was certainly better to have a charming man like Fevas than to prop up the walls at a party. Sometimes being in the shadows bothered you. And even though Fevas was... too lively for you, right now you wanted to break out of your comfort zone for a moment. You knew he was perfect for this.

You didn't realise that the blue eyes of a certain Harkonnen were piercing your companion with a hateful look, which especially intensified when Fevas wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and leaned towards you to whisper in your ear.

(...)

"I think you've forgotten who I am to you, little witch. Say it."

"I… you are the Na-Baron." He hums dissatisfyingly, shaking his head at your response.

"Try again."

"Future Baron of Giedi Prime." Your answer was again unsatisfactory to him. You shiver as you feel him press the dagger against your chest, the tip of the blade playing with the strings holding the corseted bodice of your dress together. If he used a little bit of the dress, it would expose your breasts to his view.

"Don't play stupid, or I will punish you in front of everyone. And I wish that dirty, walking pile of muscles that had his hands on you didn't see me slapping your beautiful, little ass red. In fact, I'd rather be the only one enjoying this view, so be my good girl and tell me whose remains I'll throw to my harpies tonight?"

You hold your breath at his words. Feyd couldn't visit his harpies tonight. Not when they were supposed to be busy... getting rid of the baron's corpse. You think quickly, trying to find the best way out of the situation without condemning Fevas to a certain death. Feyd's intense, urgent gaze makes you blurt out words in an act of pure panic and thoughtlessness that you have probably never said to him before.

"No."

I hope you want more... 😊🩵🩵🖤🖤

[todorokis-girl]

I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (VI)

Chapters: Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter

masterlist

taglist: @staygoldsquatchling02 , @alien-00715-blog

After the intense fighting earlier that day, she decided to take the rest of the day off. She had regained some sensation to her fingers and nose simply by warming herself up (and to be honest, Shouto had insisted on standing as close to her as possible until she felt better). Every time any of Touya’s family members treated her so kindly, she remembered what was going on with him, and how by extension, she was lying to them too. Would they forgive her? Would they think less of her?

The living room, usually a sanctuary of calm, felt oddly oppressive. She changed into her home clothes and settled into her couch the moment she was done preparing to spend the evening in. It had been a while since she had any semblance of normality. Her free time had consisted of correcting assignments, dangerous hero work, and late-night walks attempting to find a peaceful resolution to the situation with Touya, or more like Dabi. She was already starting to feel the toll of it all over her body. Something had to give, but she couldn’t figure out what to give.

Giving up on her responsibilities as a hero meant forsaking the very essence of who she was, the reason she fought so hard every day. Abandoning her hero students, the bright young minds she had vowed to protect and guide, was unthinkable. They looked up to her, depended on her. But giving up on Touya meant abandoning hope, surrendering to the idea that he was beyond saving. It meant accepting that she had failed him, and she wasn't sure she could live with that. The conflict gnawed at her, a constant battle within that left her weary and restless.

After a while of watching a movie, she heard a subtle knock on the sliding doors to her balcony. Turning off the TV, she was settled in the dark, deciding if it was actually what she heard. She was on the top floor of a very high building, and the fire escape was the opposite way. A knock on her balcony sliding doors was unrealistic; but, she heard it again. She stood up from her space on the couch and walked over to them, slowly making a silhouette on the other side of the curtain.

“Stop being so paranoid, it’s just me,” The familiar voice settled in her ears. Touya. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself now that she knew it was him. She took a step forward and opened the curtains, leaving the doors closed and locked.

“Are you going to open up?”

She glared at him and leaned her head a little to the side, making sure not to move a muscle. They had already had one encounter today. Yes, he had decided that he wasn’t going to kill her and tried to warm her up before she was rescued, but she still didn’t feel out of the edge quite yet. She felt his eyes roam her body, taking her in. “Appropriate home attire, makes me wanna come over more often,” he remarked with a smirk. She looked down at herself, remembering that she had worn an old crop top and a simple pair of underwear, obviously not expecting visits.

“I’ll go change.”

“No, please, I can’t have that,” he looked at her and tapped on the window one more time with his pointer finger. “I really just want to talk though. I want to hear our story from your side. Then I’ll tell you mine.”

She swallowed and looked over at a distance in consideration. “You seem very calm.”

“I thought I said I wouldn’t kill you. If I wanted you dead, there wouldn’t be a better chance than today.”

She looked him over once more, trying to gauge the sincerity in his eyes, the tension in his posture. Slowly, she walked to the door, taking a deep breath and sliding the door open, stepping to the side to allow him to pass.

As he stepped inside, the cold night air followed him, a stark contrast to the warmth she had been clinging to. He glanced around the room, taking in the modest, cozy décor. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words.

"Nice place," he commented, his tone neutral.

"Thanks," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "Why now, Touya? Why come here tonight?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because I can't keep pretending that everything is black and white. I need to understand. I need you to understand."

She nodded, feeling a pang of empathy. Despite everything, despite the chaos and the pain, there was still a part of her that wanted to sweet, intense, determined boy she never got to meet. 

"Alright," she said softly, gesturing to the couch. "Let's talk."

They sat down, the space between them feeling like a chasm. She could feel the weight of his presence, the deepness of his gaze.

"Start from the beginning," he said quietly. "What’s your story"

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, and began to speak, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "It all started when you ‘died’..."

She paused, her throat dry from the emotion welling up inside her. “Would you like something to drink? I have tea, coffee, or something stronger if you prefer.”

He looked at her, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Tea would be nice.”

She nodded, grateful for the brief reprieve. She moved to the kitchen, the familiar routine calming her nerves slightly. She put the kettle on, her mind racing with the story she was about to unfold. As the water boiled, she glanced back at Touya, who was watching her intently, his eyes softer than she remembered.

Returning with two steaming mugs of tea, she handed one to him and sat back down, cradling her own mug for warmth and comfort. The room was dimly lit, with a soft glow from the various electronics and the room, and the yellow light of lamp casting shadows on the walls. Shelves lined with books and trinkets hinted at a life filled with memories and secrets. The aroma of the tea mingled with the faint scent of burning wood, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and reflection.

She watched him take a sip, his eyes closing briefly in appreciation. Accepting his look of satisfaction as her cue to continue, she began, her voice stronger this time. “It all started when you ‘died’,” she repeated. “Back then… Endeavor never stopped looking for your soulmate, and after a couple of days of your death, he found me. At the time, I was at an orphanage. From what I hear, my parents weren’t soulmates and decided to give me up when they finally found theirs. So he took me in.”

Touya sipped his tea again, his gaze never leaving hers, his blue eyes intense and searching.

“I was given all the ‘benefits’ that would’ve gone to you,” she continued, her tone tinged with a mix of bitterness and nostalgia. “I had the privilege to bond with Shouto during his training. Endeavor encouraged me to pursue hero work and figure skating. I always felt a little confused and disoriented because of the constant conflicting emotions. I was told over and over again that it was a normal sign of ‘soulmate loss,’ so I never really thought about it twice, always assuming it was just a thing I had to deal with.”

She paused to take a sip of her tea, savoring the warmth as it spread through her. 

“And then?” he asked, moving an inch closer to her, his interest piqued.

“And then,” she took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I found out about Dabi. Some random stroke of luck sent me on a mission where I had to save some people from a building being on fire with his flames. It was an odd sensation. I started looking into him after that, and everything confused me. The connection between you and him. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but the more I learned, the more it made sense. It broke my heart, Touya. It broke me. But I couldn’t give up on you. Not then, not now. The idea that you’ve been alive all this time…”

She placed her mug on the wooden table in her living room, her fingers lingering on the rim as she tried to relax herself. It was the first honest opportunity she had had to properly talk to him about everything. It had been a year of this back and forth, and the building realization that this might finally be getting resolved, even if partially, allowed her to release some tension.

“I…” Touya started and paused, his eyes searching hers as he thought over what he had to say. “We’ve met before.”

“What?” she looked at him, surprise etched on her face. The revelation hung in the air between them, heavy and charged with the promise of more secrets to unravel.

“We were fifteen, you were buying some snacks at a convenience store. I had heard about you previously and had been watching you, making sure you were okay knowing you were living there.” He chose his words carefully, aware that from her perspective, this might have been a fleeting moment, easily forgotten. “I followed you there, and as you were choosing some snacks, I decided to approach you and introduce myself.”

Her eyes widened, and her breathing quickened. Memories she had long buried started to surface, each one sharper and more vivid than before. “I remember that… I thought you had read my arm and just wanted to hit on me…”

He swallowed hard, the weight of the past pressing down on him. “Your face mostly read disgust, and I could see how much you wanted me to die.”

“I believe you,” she said, her voice trembling. “The very idea of anyone pretending to be you would drive me into a rage. I thought…”

“I know that now,” he interrupted gently, his tone filled with understanding. “I didn’t realize then how much pain and confusion you were carrying. I just wanted to see you, to know you were real.”

She looked down at her hands, the warmth of the tea seeping into her skin. “That day… I told Endeavor about it, and he himself flew into a rage, a bad one. I…felt something strange when I saw you then. I couldn't put it into words, but it was like a part of me recognized you, even though my mind didn’t. It was painful to think about then, so I moved on.”

Touya nodded, his expression softening. “I felt it too. It was a lot. I knew I had to keep my distance. From my perspective, you rejected me, but it was hard. Every instinct told me to stay close, to reveal everything, but I couldn’t. It just made me angrier to think about you. The more I thought about you, the more I wanted you dead along with him. And your name on my arm, your emotions consistently there, never allowed me to forget.”

A silence settled between them, filled with the unspoken emotions of years lost and a connection rediscovered. The light in the room played across their faces, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the complexities of their past, it added an almost surreal quality to the moment, as if the past and present were merging into one.

She finally met his gaze again, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I wish I had known. Maybe things could have been different.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, his voice low and contemplative. “But we’re here now, and we have to deal with the consequences.”

She nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. “Yes, we do. And I want to know everything, Touya. No more secrets.”

He reached out, his hand covering hers, offering a silent promise of honesty and connection. “No more secrets,” he echoed, the weight of his words carrying the hope of a new beginning. Even though he knew, in the back of his mind, that as much as he craved being with her and living happily ever after, they would probably never get the chance.

He moved closer to her, his eyes flickering down to her lips. In one swift movement, their lips met, the kiss filled with a mixture of longing and desperation, a culmination of years of unspoken words and hidden feelings. His sadness seeped into it, the taste of the tea lingered between them, mingling with the raw emotion that surged to the surface.

As they pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling in the intimate space between them. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice equally soft. “More than you can imagine.”

He didn’t know if she has processed what would happened next but even if just right now, qhile they were together, they could have a normal moment, he wouldn’t break the spell they were in. He never though they’d have this, and she probably gave up on it years ago, why would he break the hearts of both of them now? They had a life time to do that. 

They stayed like that for a moment, absorbing the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence, they had found a piece of solace in their shared truth. 

“Whatever happens,” she said, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, “we face it together.”

He nodded, determination hardening his features. His current thought procesess tempting to leak out, but at the end“Together,” he agreed. “No matter what.” Even if it was a lie. 

[talon-dragonbeast]

today i want to talk about my hearthome, the coniferous forest, and how i lived there as a dragon. ill be using the words "memory", "remember", and the past tense a lot as an aid, despite me not having a past life. this is because they are noemata, things that never really happened but which i know to be true and are as important as any past life memory. this gets pretty long, so lets begin already.

i dont know how or when I found my forest. i was not born there, and although i know there mustve been other dragons somewhere, none ever visited my forest. if i had to guess, im pretty sure i was born among other dragons, but left them once i reached adulthood. im a pretty solitary dragon, as ive talked about before on this blog, and i have a pretty strong protective instinct. so once i left my fellow dragons, its no wonder i would choose a territory of my own that i could defend from others. and ive always preferred colder climates, so the coniferous forest was perfect for me.

my forest was not huge, but not too small either. it took several hours to walk from one corner to another, so i spent all my day patrolling it. my den was located right in the center, in a cave with a hidden entrance where i had my nest made of moss and my hoard of found objects and shiny things. the cave was tall but small, not uncomfortably so (i could stretch out comfortably without ever touching the walls), but just enough so that it made me feel cooped up and safe. right outside my den was a river that led to the mountains surrounding the forest, and marked the end of my territory. the mountains were a vantage point from which I could see any approaching enemies, so they greatly aided in my territory's defense.

the weather was not great, but for me it was just perfect. a dense fog in the morning that blocked the first rays of sunshine, the air always humid and heavy on the tongue, so cold it stinged the back of your mouth and made breathing difficult. light rain fell almost constantly from the gray skies, turning to snow in winter and thunderstorm in spring. the ground was always slightly damp, covered with brown pine needles and green moss, the soil underneath so dark it was almost black. the trees were tall and intimidating, all coniferous with a rich mix of pine, larch, spruce and fir, silent guardians much as I was. sometimes, the rain would stop and turn the forest into a nearly dreamlike place, with the sky a blue so intense it hurt the eyes, the sun shining with a strange energy that seemed to cool instead of warm. on those days, the air seemed to stand still, everything becoming so quiet you could almost hear the silence, as if the whole forest was holding its breath.

there were animals in my forest, of course. deer and fish and mice and elk and, most importantly, crows. i held a close relationship with the local murder that was similar to the symbiotic relationship between wolves and crows in the wild. they helped me locate prey, informed me of intruders and accompanied me on my patrols, and in return i gave them part of the kill, protected their nests and helped them with any trouble they might get into (you wouldnt believe the kinds of shenanigans the little buggers would manage to find themselves in!). i was at the top of the food chain, and was in charge of maintaining the balance of the ecosystem. i helped the forest, and the forest helped me.

there isnt really a conclusion to this. today im feeling a bit nostalgic, probably because the weather is getting colder and colder and it reminds me of home. my forest, the home of my heart, to which i can never return. writing this has made me feel a bit better, but the pain is still there. the truth is, i still miss it terribly. i miss my den, how safe it made me feel. i miss the crows, my murder, my only companions. i miss feeling the ground beneath my claws, the crunching of pine needles and the soft cold dirt underneath. i miss the emotion of the hunt, the long naps under the sun, the stargazing of an infinite night sky.

but what i miss the most i think, is the feeling of belonging. of being part of the ecosystem, not detached from but actively participating in it. in this human life, its too easy to forget i am an animal too; humans seem so keen to separate themselves from the natural world that they have forgotten that they are part of it like any other living being. i guess what i really miss is simply being able to leave my mark somewhere. feeling that i am doing something. feeling important, needed. but again, dont we all?

[baldwin2001]

IMPORTANT TO MENTION. SORRY, BUT ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I'M STILL LEARNING.

I already posted the One shot in Spanish, now it's in English.

The queen of his heart.

ENGLISH

"In the distance you can see the castle, gentlemen," the red-haired woman communicated loudly to her soldiers behind her. Just in time.

Surieth Sahar. Mother of the kingdom of Aktakistan. Despite being so recently after the death of his father, four years, his people and his knights feel immense respect for her. In such a short time she achieved public and economic policies that greatly favored her people.

Now she was about to reach Jerusalem, far to the south of her kingdom. But he was only doing it for one purpose, his late mother was originally from the holy land, she had promised him to maintain a good relationship with the Christians despite being of different religions. Currently he was in a delicate situation, Saladin's army had taken over much of the eastern lands, managing to expel the Crusaders from there, so he was going with his best warriors to recover the lost lands and can not advance towards the capital.

"Suri..." exclaimed Sibylla with a smile when he saw her enter the palace with his most important knights. "Well, rather. Surieth Shahar, mother of the kingdom of Aktakistan."

The redhead could not help but let out a little laugh, scaring her warriors, since hearing her laughter was something unusual. Since the death of her parents, her spirits had fallen to the ground, and the only people she was a little more affable with were the children of the village.

"Leave aside the formalities, and come here." said Suri, extending his arms and making a little movement with his fingers.

Even though making such demonstrations was against the manners she had been taught, Sibila was going to make an exception for her best friend.

"You don't know how much I've missed you." she murmured into Surieth's arms.

"I've missed you too, Sibylla" she replied with a small smile.

"Everyone in the palace has, even Bald..." she was interrupted by her friend.

"Where is your little son? The last time I saw him, he was a little above my waist." she asked ignoring her comment. Surely he's all grown up now.

"Yes, he's grown up a lot since the last time you were here" he smiled at her comment, took her hand and pulled her a little towards the palace. "But come, he's waiting for you in the garden, he even prepared a whole banquet just for you.*

"Oh, it wasn't necessary."

" Suri, don't be modest. I know you're not here for a visit, but you deserve it after all the trip you made to get here." This time he took both her hands as he brought them to his chest, giving her a smile making her fall for his charms.

"It's okay, Sibylla."

That only made the red-haired girl's smile grow bigger, she and her son had missed her terribly. And even though she didn't want to say it, her brother had missed her too.

Throughout the banquet the laughter was heard all over the garden, Baldwin V had grown into a very handsome boy, and now he surpassed her in height. And the first moment she saw him she almost did not recognize him, but he had not forgotten her, and she did not hesitate to give him a big hug. While in the distance Sibyl watched them with a melancholic smile. Since he was a child, he managed to establish a nice friendship with the redhead and he was glad that despite the years, it was still there.

The only thing that caused great discomfort during the meal was to feel the intense blue eyes of King Baldwin IV on her, but he was not alone, but at his side was his wife, it was a little strange, since he usually ate alone in his room, but to tell the truth he had not managed to hold the desire to see her after so many years, he missed her. And why not, if they were once lovers, but they ended when she found out that he had to marry a Christian, and could never be next to a paid one like her, or at least not let him marry her, or at least they wouldn't let him

Now, several years later, they meet again, she without any kind of love relationship, focusing on ruling her kingdom in the north, while Baldwin had been married for almost five years to a young woman of high society named Salome, daughter of a duke of the west. However, despite having been together for so long, they never got along well, he tries to have a good relationship with her, but because of her shocking character, it is impossible for him.

They had no children yet, and Baldwin did not want to have them with her, but he had an obligation to give an heir to his people, and he has felt pressured, since they have not managed to conceive one.

They were both in the royal library talking about the war tactics they would perform during their confrontation with Saladin, with dozens of maps and books scattered around the large table, while Surieth did not stop talking about the strategy she would do with her knights, Baldwin did not stop staring at her, she was still as beautiful as the last time he saw her, only without the tears that fell down her eyes after having broken her heart, and having told her that they could no longer be together.

"I miss you."

But she ignored him, she felt bad but it was for the best.

" Suri..." the affectionate way she called him, broke.

"Your majesty," she said bluntly, and without taking his eyes off him." I must inform you that the future war with Sultan Saladin is more important than something that is already in the past."

"For me there is still a chance, Suri," he said, sure of his words.

"Well, not for me," she said coldly.

She didn't support him anymore, she was ready to leave, anywhere but far away from him, but he stopped her by taking her arm and getting dangerously close to her.

"Kiss me," he challenged her without looking her in the eyes, "Or wouldn't you kiss a leper?"

"No," she exclaimed, giving him a furious look, "I wouldn't kiss a married man.... It's against my morals."

"You're right," she gave a little giggle of naivety, "it was daring of me."

" Please..." she was about to call him by his name, "Baldwin" but she regretted it "your majesty. Don't make this even worse, I didn't come for you, but to fulfill my mother's last will, despite marrying a man of a different culture who took her far from here, she never stopped having Jerusalem in her heart."

" I understand..." he lowered his eyes, not having the courage to look at her "I lost her heart a long time ago."

"It was at that moment... when you told me that you couldn't be with me because you was thinking of marrying another woman, it was then" she didn't look at him with anger, but with melancholy. "But that doesn't matter... Let's continue with the strategy"

He did not say anything, at least not on that subject. He was a fool, what he felt and lived with Surieth, do not compare with anything, not even with the five years he has spent with Salome, that more than a marriage, for him has been nothing but a hell.

[theadventurerslog]

Quest For Glory IV: Shadows of Darkness | Part 5

The Adventurer's Log

I was going to head straight to bed, but then I figured since I was up anyway, why not check around town a little more? I went to visit Dr. Cranium again.

I came just in time to witness "a magnificent scientific experiment!" He'd harnessed lightning and would use it to create life itself!

It... didn't quite work out.

He wasn't terribly fussed though. Just a momentary setback in the annals of SCIENCE! He'd readjust the Magnetic Electrical Stimulation System (M.E.S.S. He has quite the names and acronyms) and try again another time.

He's convinced the primal force of life is electrical in nature. But water and pizza are important too.

Gotta have that pizza.

There have been more storms lately so he was able to harness and store more lightning.

I had some new options like telling him about my adventures in Spielburg. He'd been there a few months ago on an Antwerp gathering expedition. There was an Antwerp population explosion last Spring--I...I can't imagine why cough. Actually I have no idea what that timeline has been so far so I might not have been responsible for that particular population boom. But I'm still taking credit.

The people were still talking about my adventures. He wasn't impressed with the other details like Baba Yaga being turned into a frog. Poppycock! He claimed there was a perfectly straightforward scientific explanation for all that and I'd really like to know what he thinks happened. FROG. Like her house flying away could be some kind of propulsion, but. FROG.

He noted Nikolai isn't as old as he appears. Been very unhappy since his wife's disappearance 15 years ago. He understands his disappointment; she never brought him back the berries he needed for an experiment. Hmm...

As I left he decided he'd better wait a day or two before continuing his "Frankie"--yep, yep there it is--experiment.

Oh, I also got a second flask from him, too.

Then I went back to the inn to sleep, only to hear voices...

I was being spied on...

A man and a woman. I think the woman was Katrina but I'm not sure if I'm remembering her voice correctly for sure, but sure sounded like we'd met already so I'm gonna assume her unless proven otherwise.

The man didn't understand why she didn't just capture me. Foolish charades. She thinks they'll be best served if I act under my own free will.

This implies the man is Ad Avis to me?

What are you trying to get out of me though?

She thinks I'm quite capable, but has ways to make me cooperate but will only use them if she needs to.

So I have plotting going behind my back at my expense! Not surprising, but the plot thickens.

I, however, had a Domovoi to somehow save. Though I wasn't sure how. Maybe just get some water? Maybe water from Erana's Garden even?

I stopped by Igor and this time was able to tell him about Dr. Cranium's request for the fluid.

"Doctor ask Igor do strange things like dig up bodies. Igor bury bodies and doctor make Igor dig them up again."

Yeah, gotta reanimate them... but bring the fluid?

Ah well.

There was a stream just outside town so I filled a flask with that and tried it on the Domovoi. It did cause a stirring of life, but wasn't enough. I'd need a more 'intensive' form of liquid.

Water from Erana's Garden didn't work either, though while there I got another fruit, watered the bonsai tree and learned my glide spell let me float over bodies of water.

So I got a bit stuck. I didn't get anything useful out of Dr. Cranium though I did pick up another poison cure and healing potion.

I talked to Olga and she told me to tell Boris that if he'd ever gotten work done instead of spending all his time carousing at the inn, she wouldn't have had to complain.

I guess I'm gonna be going back and forth between them to carry their complaints until we can sort them out. Hero or marriage counselor?

That didn't help with my Domovoi problem.

I stopped and slept on it, by which I mean I thought of more ideas while getting ready for bed and had to resist booting everything back up.

I remained stuck and cautiously searched online only to see that it seems like something I can't do yet anyway! Forum post I saw acting like it could be done the second day, hmph. Serves me right for trying to be aware of any potential problems first. Anyhoo, I already suspected I'd need Dr. Cranium's help and indeed I would. Just not yet I guess.

In the meantime, I'm just going to try to pretend I never saw that warning to begin with that made me all paranoid and continue on my merry way hoping everything will be fine.

I went off to talk to Boris again about Olga's latest message to continue my role as messenger... marriage counselor... something.

I found 5 crowns in a stump just outside the town gate I'd missed before. That was nice.

Boris claimed there was nothing to do at the shop with no customers anyway. So, he'd sit at the inn and talk with the other men. Why dust with so few customers? She was always giving orders.

He came out here to get some peace and quiet from her nagging.

So back to Olga for me I guess! I'm in this spat now, might as well see it through as far as it'll let me...

She just wanted the shop to be neat and clean in case someone did come in. Why should she do all the work? It was his family's business to start with anyway, oh ho. Drama.

He said there was much to do to keep it running and his family used to work together to do so. If only Olga wouldn't nag him all the time. They used to enjoy running it together, but what's the point with no business?

Me! I'm business now!

I'm glad this route between them is short and easy.

There are things to sell! Sandwiches! Avocado and garlic sandwich mm mm mmm.

I did buy several of her sandwiches myself but they don't sound good...

Back to Boris and the key back to his heart was found I guess as he started reminiscing on those sandwiches. They had them on their wedding night. The wedding cake she baked herself was decorated with avocado and garlic flowers. He was reminded of how much he misses her and would go back to visit her. Success?

I went back to Olga and this time had to ask about her husband. He did come back to visit her and would come again after work. Given I went straight back that was an incredible stealthy and fast visit! Jokes aside he said he'd visit again after work and she thought it was nice to see him. Reminded her of old times.

I guess that's resolved, at least for now. Yeah, I went back for a last check-in with Boris.

All seems well now.

I still had a chunk of day left, so it was time to explore more.

I had another fight trying strategy mode where you just seem to tell the computer what to focus on more with sliders between stuff like aggressiveness, defence, magic and special attacks. I'm not sure if I like that either! But I'll stick to it for now.

I found... bushes... meowing bushes?

I poked the wiggling meowing bush.

I had to guess at a name.

Obviously this is Rumpelstiltskin. Or Nikstlitslepmur. Or Ifnkovhgroghprm!

Of course, it's Leshy. But I had to then try the Wild Guess option.

"You take a wild guess: Your name is Cedric!" Heehee.

The Leshy was not happy with that and vanished along with the rest of the bushes. In fact when I tried other options he at least responded with a rhyme before disappearing. With Cedric the bush just shook violently then vanished... That's mean. Everyone's mean to Cedric. I'm bugaloo-ing sadly. I mean, I snorted too (sorry Cedric), but still.

That little aside...aside.

"Leshy Leshy look up a bush or a tree." Could I solve his riddles every time? Then he vanished so I can only assume I had to keep hunting him down. Turned out that wasn't much of an assumption; I just had to leave the screen and come back. This time he was in a bush that would run to another bush and I just had to 'use' each bush he was at one by one until there weren't any left and he appeared to ask another riddle.

He asked about who lived in the lake and I had some confusion and worries because there was no seeming way to answer. He would linger for a couple seconds then vanish. Turned out after he vanished I had to use the talk icon on myself to answer, but I assumed I had to answer while he was still there, but there was no cursor to use until he was gone. That was a 'fun' little bout of confusion and worry that something was bugged, but I got there...

He next brought up a witch living in a hut of sticks with another clue. That has to be Baba Yaga.

"Bushes hear! Now Disappear!" Maybe? Like the "Hut of brown now sit down" rhyme?

I was sure that'd come together once I found my way over to Baba Yaga's hut area. It didn't seem like I could do more with the Leshy now, so I continued on.

Some meandering southward brought me to the area where I'd first spotted the hut on the cliffs so I made a more conscious effort to find a route and found some suspicious bushes.

Just as the Leshy spoke of. I got to tell them about myself in a long-winded tale of my exploits. They weren't impressed. I could also repeat the phrase Leshy told me. That made them disappear.

And here we are. Baba Yaga's hut.

About the body:

It's a dead body, artistically laid out for maximum shock effect. (Actually, it just happened to fall in that position, but please don't tell anyone.)

And a familiar skull:

The nearest skull is fixed in a perpetually sour expression. One eye socket is empty, the other filled with a brilliant gem "like the flare of the frost flame."

Like the gem from a frosty giant! I know that skull and gem. And further narration made note of that familiarity.

It was time to say hello to my old skull friend.

Baba Yaga actually did come back later to pick him up.

Half his conversation was unvoiced and the text boxes were zipping by even with my speed lowered... I may read fast but not quite fast enough. Thank goodness for screenshots. Something buggy there I guess?

I told him about the gnome and he thought I'd be more likely to end up in her frying pan, but he was willing to help if I helped him. He wanted something useful that would also "add a certain dash" to his appearance, something to keep the sun out of his eyes maybe. Then he'll tell the other skulls not to crispy fry me. So I guess I need to be on the look out for a hat.

A few other tidbits: Baba Yaga is back to her old self. No more froggy witch there. No more rhyme for the hut, just walk up and it'll squat and let you in if it wants. He's still enjoying his gem.

I tried going toward the hut anyway and the skulls did shoot at me but only for a bit of damage and bounced me back. I hoped for a death. So, I just kept doing it until I died. It took many tries while Bonehead laughed at me every time.

I was hoping I'd get a bit more of a reaction from him too, but oh well.

I decided to make my way back to either the garden or town if I could make it. On the way I ran into the Leshy again and was able to answer his question about Baba Yaga this time.

He had another one for me:

A berry bush with an attitude? No idea about that one yet. I'm certainly curious to find out what that's about.

Okay, I was going to try to find my back to a rest spot (my mapping has been hit or miss), but I ended up not too far from Gypsy Camp so I went for it.

"Surely they won't mind just one visitor." They did.

This guy had multiple wolves and nothing I said could get anything out of him except telling me to go away and threats of the wolves attacking me.

I guess I need something more to convince them? At least I hope that's the case and isn't another Dr. Cranium situation where I did have everything I needed available to me already to open his door.

Back into the forest... and the night...

[ambers-archive]

who am i, darling to you? (iv)

loss of my life

Bookmarked on page fifteen, the last page of chapter three, the closed book in your hands stand still against your heavy heart. You were waiting to read chapter four together with her. The story of Rapunzel was your favorite princess story. One of a long lost princess with beautiful long hair who fought to live the life she wanted. And she was able to fall in love in the midst of it all. 

It was a staple bedtime story; you went to sleep hanging onto the words.

Sometimes when you see your mom in your dreams; you can hear her sweet voice reading you the stories, and you can feel her gentle kisses even now. A beautiful yet haunting reminder of her. 

You never got to read chapter four, and you haven't been able to move the handmade bookmark since your mom stopped on chapter three seventeen years ago. It's her birthday today, seventeen years of missed laughter, hugs, and love. Maybe it would have been bearable if you had someone to share the burden with, someone who knew her just as intensely.

But the only two other people were dead along with her.

"Alright, let's go over our story one more time," Hotch says, his voice low as he walks into your honeymoon suite.

It had been a few days since you two checked in, it was a beautiful suite overlooking the sea. You loved the sea and the feeling of sand between your toes, but just like many of the things you loved - it was just out of your grasp.

You were spending the days discussing specifics of stories, anniversaries, birthdays, and first kisses. All set to disappear into an imagined world and meet him in a love story that was not yours. You two weren't hopelessly in love on your honeymoon, and Maya wasn't you. That story was only saved for last, hidden deep within your heart under-heading the section labeled grief. 

Because where else can one store unspent love. 

You've never even held him, but your feelings for Hotch are nothing short of love. You've never held him, and yet you have memorized every dimple, freckle, and crease by his eyes.

He has never touched you, and yet has touched every fiber of your being. 

And so many sleepless you stayed up, next to him, feeling his heartbeat you wondered what it would be like to press yourself against his larger body. To tuck yourself underneath his arm and lay your head against chest as if you belonged there all along. 

You resisted of course. 

“We met at one of the galleries I was showing; you bought all of my paintings and asked me out to dinner later that night,” You respond quietly, your hand still ghosting over the peeking bookmark. Feeling the lines of the book's spine, it was a small but thick paperback book. Not worth much, but to you, it was priceless, one of your most prized possessions.

You manage to catch the last of his question, all your focus on your self-inflicted sorrow. "Ages?"

"Um," You start, trying to piece the story together; it's buried somewhere deep in your head, this past week has just been so hard. You always visit your mom on her birthday, but now you know it won't be possible.

Your pain was always such an imposition.

"If we're going to do this, I need your undivided attention,” Hotch’s voice breaks through your head. You turn to face him, his eyes focused on the case file, not even sparing you a glance.

"Sorry, sir. It’s just a lot to think about.”

“I told you it would be. If you’re not ready for this, Agent.” You wish he would stop calling you Agent, it's an unnecessary boundary he's creating to distance himself from you. 

“I am,” You cut through his words, swallowing the dryness forming in your throat. "Of course, I am." You repeat back, standing up straighter this time, trying not to let the indifference in his words bother you.

He passes you his notes, filled with Maya and James's life. Their story, their family. They're respectively twenty-six and forty, so a little off here and there. James has a big family that Maya is able to fall into, two brothers and a sister. No kids yet, they're just enjoying life with the two of them.

It would be perfect if it was yours to truly live in.

Perfect, just not yours. Always yours to love, but never to keep.

"This case is one of the most important the team has had in a long time. Everyone is counting on us; memorize the notes. We should take this opportunity to meet other couples tonight at the welcome dinner." He pauses for a second, surveying and noticing the book in your hands. You defensively put the book away, shielding your memories from his judgmental eyes, ripping yourself away from any judgment, away from a job that punishes you for caring.

"I can't do my job successfully if I'm always watching over my shoulder, babysitting a capable agent," he says, as he walks out of the room, selfishly avoiding your eyes so he can shield himself from the pain he's inflicted. The door shuts quietly, but no thoughts seem to take over, and you suddenly feel small. Like a child who's been abandoned, left alone, and to fend for herself.

༺༻

You sit there, staring at the closed door, trying to steady your breathing. The silence in the room grows louder, as if it were taunting you, reminding you of your isolation. You clutch the book tighter, as if it could anchor you to some semblance of stability.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. Time blurs as your mind drifts between memories of your mother and the pressing reality of the case. The sun slowly sets, casting long shadows across the room. 

And you wish you could just sit there and wallow in your misery but the reality of the case pulls you out, your feelings will just have to wait. 

As the orange from the evening sky peaks through the curtains, you hear the door open again. Hotch steps back into the room, his expression softer yet determined. "Strauss wanted to have a conference call with the director. She thinks the welcome dinner is a good approach."

You look up from the case notes, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. "When should we start heading there?" 

"In about an hour, we should get there early to take in the environment. The Unsub could be anyone." You nod as he finishes the last of his sentence, the tension is still there letting you loose only to suffocate you once again. 

"Just give me a few minutes to shower." You say not meeting his eyes.

Making your way to the shared bathroom you let the warm shower engulf you. Wishing to wash away your insecurities and the weight of the day. You close your eyes and visualize the tension fading with every drop of water, but it doesn't last nearly as long as you would like it to. Reluctantly, you walk out of the shower as your obligations drag you back.

Thinking of these small things makes you believe she is an actual person, not just someone you and the team invented. The details bring her to life, giving her a heartbeat within your imagination.

You rarely had time to dress up since work took most of your time and energy. You take the time to do your hair and for a second you get to engage in something fun, a constant which was sperate from the rest of the world. Reaching instinctively to play with your bracelet, you sigh.

It was an evil eye bracelet, or as your family called it, nazar. It was a gift from your Nani (grandmother); she said it would keep you safe from everything evil. You smile to yourself, thinking about her words and the warmth they still bring you.

If only there was someone else who loved you just as much now.

Hotch's knock on your bathroom door pulls you out of your trance, "Just a second!" You say adjusting your dress. 

Taking one more look in the mirror, you open the door, surprised by how good he looks. He always wore suits, but before you stands a man in a dark gray shirt, tucked into his trousers, his usually neat hair now slightly tousled, framing his face.

You smile at him, for a second forgetting that you're upset at him.

"I didn't know you had curly hair," he says, looking at you with a small smile on his lips. You mirror him briefly, putting on your earrings.

"It's hard to maintain, especially at work, so I just straighten it a lot." You had your hair moved to the side; you can't remember the last time he had looked at you for so long.

"It suits you."

"I get it from my mom. Everyone told me I look like my dad growing up, but the one thing I got from her is the hair," you say, looking for your shoes. Hotch is standing behind you, hands in his pockets.

"You don't talk about them much," he says, his tone softer now, more curious than probing.

"Once I start, I can't stop."

"I was the same way with Haley, especially around Jack. But there are people who care about you here, including me." You don't know when he came so close to you, his face now merely inches away, his presence suddenly more comforting than intimidating.

Suddenly, your perfectly guarded emotions come undone. "I have so many memories of her; it's an overflow sometimes."

"Then let's start small. What is your favorite memory?"

You let out a small smile, walking towards the dresser and pulling out the book to show him.

"Rapunzel?" he asks with amusement. "I didn't know you liked fairytales."

"My mother did. She used to read me a ton of them, but this one was my favorite."

Recognition flashes in his eyes as if he suddenly remembers something. "I'm sorry, it's not hard when people we love leave." He knows grief better than most people. Although you weren't there when Beth died, you can still see remnants of who he used to be underneath.

A man torn between the love for his wife and duty.

"I think you're wonderful despite everything you've gone through. I know it's easy to feel responsible for what happened, but it wasn't your fault," you say softly, still holding onto your book.

Hotch nods, taking his hands out of his pockets and resting them on your shoulders. It's hesitant, as if he's unsure, but you don't mind.

"I was mad at them for coming home so late," you whisper, meeting his eyes.

"My dad promised to watch a new movie with me. I waited by the door all night. But they never came. Today is her birthday, and I'm missing it."

"This is why you always take this week off?" He asks.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the book. "I always visit her grave, and since they're buried together, I visit my dad's too."

Before you can take in what's happening, Hotch lets his hands fall from your shoulders with a look of determination. And before you can ask him about the welcome dinner he starts walking towards his keys. 

"Tell me where."

"W-What about the dinner?" You ask barely able to register the man in front of you. 

"We will have other opportunities. Right now, you should be with your mom on her birthday. I spent too long letting this job keep me from the people I love. I can't see it happen to you."

"It's all the way back home."

"That's alright. I can probably call in some favors and have the jet get us there in a few hours," he says earnestly.

You look at him, taken aback by his determination. "Are you sure? What about Strauss?" 

Hotch nods opening the door for you. "You're honoring your mother. I'll explain the situation, don't worry about her." 

How could someone not fall in love with him?

taglist: @zaddyhotch @mrs-ssa-hotch

[dballzposting]

Hi . . .

I mean it's really not hard to google things. Yknow. So you would think that I would know things. Yknow.

That tiny EOZ strip in the anime is what had made me go cuckoo for dragon balls initially, or, it was the circumstance surrounding the inevitable. And, yknow. When I found out about the EOZ Kakarot DLC, I was stoked.

And, yknow, I had the thouhgt the other day. "Is there EOZ manga? What is Kai sticking true to?" Easy google, right?

No . . . I decided tyhat if that was real, SURELY I would simply Know about it by now. But I've never heard of it, So it must not be .

Which is unfortunate, becasue ive always mourned how the art at EOZ kind of sucks. I would like to see it by Toriyama's true hand.

Um . . .

Well . . . Howdo I put this . . .

IT'S REAL !!!!! TINY VWEGETA !!!!!! NEVER BEFORE SEEEN SCREENSHOT OF GOTEN !!! GOOD ARTSTYLE !!!

LOOK AT VEGETA'S BILL MURRAY SWAG !!!!! HIS BROWN JACKET & ORANGE SHIURT

TUNKS !!!

TEE-HEE !!! Ive observed in he anime and in the kakarrot dlc, how Cool Trunks is/thinks he is ... He's just like "yeah."

Awesome Cool panels and scnees

MR SATAN AND MR BOO SWAGGED UP

ARE YOU SEEING THIS /1/1/!??!?!\

IM SO THRILLED BY THIS !!!!!! IT'S REAL IT';S SO REAL !! ! ! !!!

Goten Rude AF for just calling him "Satan." I'd slap him if he were mine. No I'd slap him anyway. It takes a village to raise a bastard.

Perusing this EOZ strip in the managa, I feel like I understand Goten's character BETTER .... Therwe's always been this teeth-grinding contradiction to me, with what I want and what I extrapolate from his circumstance and what they actually present. But this makes sense to me.

Goten is like ... an insect. Like a dragonfly or butterfly. Just sort of . . . Floating.

He is what he is ... He frowns when the more lucid Trunks rememberes to smile . .

He is just ... There ... NOT COMPLETELY DAFT .. Just .. Earnestly airheaded. He's definitely present but . . . . Not intensely.

He still looks around and talks shit.

And he is like a frazzled little bee. LOVE HIM <3

Also what did Goku mean by that. The coupling was by chance (save for a few. . .). There's really no correlation or causation. "Why did all the dinosaurs die out?" "Becasue you touch yourself at night." That's pretty much what they said

VEGETA BUTT:

Truns & Goten Tee-Hee

I LOVE THIS PICTURE OF TRUNKS. FLINCHING HARD WITH BOTH ARMS

Now Fopr Something Really Impressive .

They Cut This Out For The Anime And They SHOULD NOT HAVE .

It is Key .

THIS

THIS IS THEMATICALLY SIGNIFANT OR WHATEVER .. LIKE .. IT'S CYCLICAL . THIS IS IMPORTANT .. WHY DID THEY NOT REPRESENT THIS IN THE ANIME ?

I always assumed that Kinto-Un must be a family heirloom or something. BUT NAUR .. UUB SHOULD GET IT. HE'S GONNA PROTECT THE EARTH AFTER ALL.

Also these were in the prwevious chapter so I ddint see them until the end but this is here too. I love how Trunks just doesnt mince words. None of them do becasue it's the manga and it's shorter but still, it was like this on screen too. In the anime he didnt hang around to visit with Chichi. In the mnaga he doesnt even hang around to visit Gohan. He's like Hey what's up. Where's Goten. I have business with his candy ass

JUST WHEN YOU THINK YOU COULDNT BE SURPISED ANY MORE ...YOU FIND EOZ MANGA ONLINE.,

CHEERS

[katy-l1988]

Chapater IV: The child

Zestial was momentarily paralyzed as he saw Carmilla standing, illuminated by the spotlight, her figure shining amidst the dimness of the venue. Their eyes met, and in that instant, everything seemed to stop around them. Buried feelings and forgotten memories resurfaced in his mind, reminding him of how much he missed her. Araziel, noticing Carmilla's intense gaze and reaction to seeing Zestial, felt a flash of jealousy ignite within him. His fingers slightly tightened on the edge of the table, and a cold, defiant gaze settled on the angel who had interrupted his night.

Meanwhile, Carmilla, standing in the middle of the restaurant, struggled internally, her heart torn between illusion and commitment. On one hand, she longed for the lost connection with Zestial, a spark of nostalgia and desire burning in her chest, something Araziel could no longer awaken in her. Asmodeo seized the opportunity for his own entertainment. Without hesitation, he took to the stage.

For him, it was all comedy, entertainment for his drama-hungry audience. However, behind his mask, there was a disdain for love he had never managed to feel, a belief that darker desires were superior to any romantic feelings.

"Listen up, everyone! Today, three great celebrities from Hell visit us!" Asmodeo exclaimed sarcastically, with a mischievous smile, relishing in the audience's attention. "Come here, Araziel!"

The angel combed his pink hair, which shimmered under the spotlights he loved so much. Among the Infernal Rings, he was known as the "Father of Titans," the first angel to break one of God's sacred rules by conceiving hundreds of Nephilim with human women. These giants were violent beings who wreaked havoc in ancient times, wiping out many human settlements. Upon their death, they became demons of great strength but little intelligence. Araziel gathered them all, turning them into thugs whose services would be offered to sinners and other renowned beings, including, of course, Asmodeo.

"This demon is a legend! The very embodiment of desire and rebellion!"

"If Sin of Lust says so, I'll take it as a compliment," he smiled, delighted that the audience praised him. "Remember, my friends. If you need protection, don't hesitate to call."

"Oh, Carmilla, how did you manage to snag such a stud?"

"Come on, Asmodeo, who could resist my charms?" Araziel continued, addressing his wife and inappropriately groping her breasts.

"Don't touch me!" Carmilla shouted, pushing Araziel away. "Is this why you brought me here? To humiliate me?"

"Look at that! You have a real firecracker, Araziel. These kinds of jewels are too valuable and desired. You should take better care of her," he declared, pausing dramatically before continuing his biting comment. "After all, a 'relationship' of so many years isn't maintained solely by good manners."

"Don't you know any other way to attract your customers?" Carmilla interjected, trying to camouflage her distress with anger, though the pain and shame were evident in her voice. "Or are you so miserable that you only feel powerful by playing with others' lives?"

"Carmilla, enough," Araziel warned, grabbing her arm, but she pushed him away.

The audience, surprised by the woman's audacity, murmured among themselves, some even discreetly applauding her bravery. However, Asmodeo, accustomed to being the center of attention and having absolute control over his stage, felt increasingly uncomfortable for being challenged in that way.

"Touché, Madame," he muttered under his breath, trying to regain his composure in front of the audience watching the tense interaction. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But don't forget who owns this place."

"Oh, I know who you are, Asmodeo. The question is, do you really know who I am?"

Asmodeo, momentarily taken aback by the firmness of her response, quickly regained his composure, though his eyes flashed with a mix of disbelief and resentment.

"Mmm, a purposeless soul? Araziel's doll? A caged bird?" Asmodeo said, his tone sarcastic and contemptuous, echoing Carmilla's doubts and insecurities.

Araziel watched with a mix of amusement and arrogance, relishing in his wife's submission. For him, that moment was like punishment, punishment for always preferring an old man from heaven over him. Shame consumed her, as she struggled to maintain composure under Asmodeo's ruthless gaze and the scrutiny of the audience. Zestial, consumed by anger, chose to use his monstrous form, an imposing and threatening creature. With a quick movement, he moved toward Carmilla to shield her. His eyes gleamed with fierce intensity as he looked at Asmodeo, warning him in a grave and severe tone.

"Don't ever stick your venomous tongue where you're not called, Asmodeo. I won't allow you to dare insult Carmilla again," growled Zestial, his voice resonating with authority and determination.

Asmodeo, surprised by Zestial's intervention and the fury emanating from him, instinctively recoiled, though his expression remained defiant.

"Who do you think you are to give me orders? This is my house, and I do as I please here," Asmodeo responded disdainfully, though it was evident that Zestial's imposing presence made him uncomfortable.

Carmilla, sensing the tension in the air, gestured for Zestial to calm down and return to his normal form.

"It's not worth it," she said, giving Zestial a smile. "Come on, anyway, I don't like this place. It's just trash."

She and Zestial left, leaving the two demons behind. However, they had barely taken a few steps outside the establishment when Araziel quickly caught up to them. Blinded by fury, he pounced on Carmilla ferociously, his hands gripping her hair tightly, and with a swift motion, he pulled her back, causing her to fall to the ground with a dull thud.

Zestial, witnessing the violence against the woman, could no longer contain himself. With a wild roar, he lunged at Araziel, and in an instant, the scene turned into a whirlwind of blows, grunts, and the dull sound of bodies violently colliding with the ground and alley walls. Their fists danced in a deadly ballet, each blow laden with fury and desperation. The golden blood splattered on the pavement, reflecting their true nature. The rage in Zestial's eyes was so intense it seemed to glow with its own light, while Araziel fought with fierce determination, fueled by indignation and wounded pride.

Carmilla, still dazed from the fall and the blow to her head, tried to get up from the ground, but a sudden sharp pain pierced her stomach, paralyzing her completely. The spasms of pain shook her as she clutched her abdomen with her left hand, feeling as if something was tearing her apart from the inside. Desperate and in tears, she screamed with all her might, begging them to stop the fight. As expected, Zestial was the first to react. He pushed Araziel away with a shove, freeing him from his tight grip, and turned to Carmilla. Without hesitation, he reached out his hand to her, offering assistance to help her up.

Carmilla clung to Zestial's arm, trying to alleviate the discomfort in vain.

"Stop pretending already!" Araziel exclaimed, visibly frustrated. "We're not fighting anymore."

"She's not pretending, Araziel," Zestial responded firmly, as he lifted Carmilla in his arms. "She's in a lot of pain. She urgently needs medical help."

Upon Zestial's words, Araziel nodded somberly. Without saying another word, he opened a portal to the Ring of Sloth and rushed Carmilla to the hospital. There, both Zestial and Araziel remained by her side as the doctor examined her. With a peculiar mask reminiscent of the plague era, the doctor asked them what had happened, but none of those present could offer a clear answer. They explained that they were in the middle of a fight, and suddenly she started screaming.

The doctor, with expert gestures, examined the affected area in Carmilla's stomach, causing her to cling tightly to the top of the stretcher, with Zestial holding her to prevent her from moving too much. The doctor didn't offer immediate explanations, instead, he positioned Carmilla in a specific way and ordered the nurse to prepare some additional supplies. He also requested that they call obstetrics, which further puzzled Zestial and Araziel.

Carmilla, feeling great pressure on her back and hips, spread her legs trying to relieve the discomfort. The doctor, observing the woman's unusual position, instantly understood what was happening. Without wasting time, he pulled out a pair of scissors and skillfully cut the pants she was wearing, revealing what was causing her pain.

"Do you want me to prepare her for the delivery room?" the nurse asked.

"It won't be necessary. The baby is already coming, and she won't let herself be moved," the doctor responded calmly, assessing the situation.

"A baby?" Carmilla, Zestial, and Araziel said simultaneously.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?!" Araziel exclaimed, his tone filled with anger and frustration.

"How could I tell you something I didn't know? ¡Carajo!" Carmilla responded, her voice trembling and on the verge of tears.

"Don't give me that! You should have known!" Araziel insisted, his anger growing with each word.

"Enough!" Zestial intervened, his voice resonating with authority. "Now is not the time."

The seraph fought to hold back tears as she clung to the edge of the stretcher, trying to endure the pain. She was aware that God, her father, had designed her with the ability to conceive, but she never thought she would face this situation so suddenly and overwhelmingly.

As Carmilla struggled to stay awake, Zestial approached her with tenderness. His presence was comforting, and his warm hand on hers offered silent support amidst the enveloping agony. Although Araziel was the father of her child and her husband, at that moment, it was Zestial who could help her. Their eyes met, seeking comfort. Despite everything that had happened between them, at that moment, Zestial was her rock, her refuge in the storm.

Araziel, feeling once again displaced by the presence of an elder, stepped away frustrated. Without saying a word, he headed towards the hospital exit, needing a moment alone to process everything he had just discovered. The cool night air greeted him, and with trembling hands, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his coat pocket. He lit the cigarette with brisk gestures, letting the smoke slip between his lips as he sank into his thoughts. On one hand, he felt hurt and angry by Carmilla's sudden revelation of her pregnancy and the apparent emotional bond between her and Zestial. On the other hand, a part of him knew he had no right to feel that way, given the state of his relationship with Carmilla.

As he took a deep drag, a wave of understanding suddenly washed over him. That woman he so desired was having his child. The thought hit him like a lightning bolt, momentarily clearing his mind of all worries and fears. He extinguished the butt, letting the night breeze dissipate the remaining smoke. With firm and determined steps, Araziel returned to the hospital with a clear resolution in his mind: that creature was his, and he would not allow Zestial to take his place as a father, having stolen his wife's heart.

With a quick gesture, the doctor turned back and exclaimed excitedly:

"There you are! Come, do you want to see?"

Araziel approached cautiously, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he watched attentively. As he leaned in to get a better look, he could distinguish how the baby's head began to emerge, with strands of white hair identical to her mother's.

With a gleam of excitement in his eyes, Araziel turned to Carmilla, his voice full of enthusiasm and astonishment.

"It's our baby, Milla!"

But Carmilla, still overwhelmed by the pain and surprise, looked away. With one final gentle push, the baby emerged completely. A beautiful girl with silver hair and a tan complexion, identical to her mother. She had no wings, but that was beside the point, as there was a precedent that Nephilim, and even the Princess of Hell herself, did not possess them. Araziel, momentarily forgetting his resentment, cut the cord with the doctor's guidance, and with the baby wrapped in a towel, he approached his wife. However, Carmilla, overwhelmed by confusion, was not ready to face reality. She shook her head, refusing to take the baby into her arms.

"No, I don't want to see it," she murmured, looking away and feeling a lump in her throat. Zestial, sensing Carmilla's distress, tried to reassure her by gently caressing her arm.

"Milla, it's a girl…our daughter," he insisted, his voice soft but firm.

"That's exactly why. What can I expect from her if you're her father? Will she inherit your lies and deceit?" Carmilla responded, with a hint of bitterness in her voice, as she diverted her gaze from the baby towards Araziel.

Zestial knew the child shouldn't bear the brunt of their issues, so he sided with Araziel, and after a few moments, Carmilla relented. With his large hands, she held the baby against her chest, while the little one instinctively sought her source of nourishment. Araziel watched in silence, while Zestial stepped back.

"I can't believe you want to name her that," commented Araziel, furrowing his brow.

"Why not? It's a beautiful and unique name," Carmilla replied, defending her choice with determination, though a hint of doubt lingered in her voice.

"But…Velvette? Don't you think it's a bit…extravagant?" Araziel persisted, not hiding his disapproval.

"What's wrong with that? I like it, and that should be enough," Carmilla retorted, maintaining her stance.

"Fine, I won't argue with you."

Five years passed since that event, when Carmilla and Araziel made the difficult decision to officially divorce. They agreed, of course, on a shared custody arrangement that allowed them both to spend time with their daughter. According to the agreement, from Monday to Friday, Velvette would be with Carmilla, while on weekends, namely Saturday and Sunday, it would be Araziel's turn.

However, Velvette still grew up under the predominant influence of her father. He was her idol, her role model, although let's say he wasn't the best. Under his rule-free upbringing, Velvette became a passionate young woman, with great energy that could sometimes turn into a problem. Araziel, though he loved his daughter, was not the conventional father figure. His approach to parenting was more relaxed, allowing Velvette almost total freedom to explore the world around her. This resulted in a close relationship between father and daughter, but also in the lack of boundaries and structure in Velvette's life.

On the other hand, her relationship with her mother was more distant. Although she lived with her and spent time together, Carmilla was immersed in her career and other responsibilities outside the home. This caused a gap in their relationship, and the girl began to resent her mother for what she perceived as a lack of attention and commitment to her. Arguments between the two were frequent, and the young girl openly expressed her dissatisfaction with the situation.

"I'm home!" Carmilla announced, placing her keys on the bedside table near the door. "Velvette?"

Carmilla went straight to Velvette's room, and upon entering, she was met with a dense cloud of smoke that made her nose twitch slightly. However, before opening the window to ventilate the room, she noticed the surprise on her daughter's face, who had obviously been startled by her sudden entrance.

"Mom! You have to knock," Velvette scolded.

"Not when you live in my house," Carmilla replied, looking at her, noticing the cigarette in her hand. "I've told you not to smoke inside the house; you should go out to the terrace."

"But it's cold outside," Carmilla picked up some things to throw away, then came across a blue pill.

"It doesn't matter, there are rules in this house," she insisted, while picking up some things to throw away, then came across a blue pill among the objects. "What's this?"

"A pill?"

"Don't play dumb, pendeja. Tell me, where did you get this?"

Carmilla, unable to contain her frustration at not receiving an answer, grabbed Velvette's face tightly, her hand covering almost her entire head.

"Mírame, mírame..." Carmilla insisted, shaking Velvette harder. "I'm talking to you!"

Velvette, annoyed by her mother's treatment, looked at her with defiant eyes.

"Since when are you involved in this, Velvette? Since when are you taking drugs?"

Velvette forcefully released herself from Carmilla's grip, turning her face away with fury. Her eyes sparkled with a defiant gleam as she faced her mother.

"Since when?" she repeated sarcastically. "For months now, what did you expect, Mom? We're in damn Hell."

"I don't care where we are. I didn't raise you like this!" Carmilla exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and anguish.

"You? Raise me?" Velvette scoffed, with a look of contempt on her face. "Dad was right about you being a proud, selfish bitch."

Carmilla felt as if a dagger pierced her heart upon hearing her daughter's words. Anger and sadness mixed in a whirlwind of emotions within her. However, Velvette wasn't finished.

"You don't even bother to leave your office to see what's happening with me," Velvette continued, not stopping. "Do you think I don't notice how you hide behind your work to avoid dealing with your own problems?"

Carmilla was overwhelmed by Velvette's barrage of accusations. The tension in the room was palpable as mother and daughter faced off in a battle of wills.

"¡Ya basta!" Carmilla shouted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I won't allow you to talk to me like that, do you hear me? I'm your mother, and I deserve respect."

Velvette let out a bitter laugh, her eyes filled with disdain.

"Respect. Do you think you deserve respect after everything you've done? You know nothing about me, Mom. You never have."

A heavy silence filled the room as Carmilla's words hung in the air. Tears of helplessness began to well up in her eyes as she looked at her daughter with a mixture of pain and resignation.

"If that's what you think of me, then there's nothing more to say," she said firmly, though her heart was breaking in her chest.

Velvette looked at her with disdain, no hint of remorse in her gaze.

"Fine by me. I don't need anything from you anyway. I've always been self-sufficient, remember?"

Her daughter's words were like a direct blow to Carmilla's soul. She turned away, unable to bear the pressure of the moment. With heavy steps, she left the room, heading to hers. Velvette stayed in the room, feeling a strange mix of anger and sadness for what had just happened. She knew that things between her and her mother would never be the same again, but for some reason, that didn't matter to her as much as she thought it would.

On Friday afternoon, when Araziel came for his daughter, Carmilla led him to her room to discuss in private. Velvette knew that her mother's anger wouldn't last long, as every time those two were together, their instincts took over. Anger turned into desire, into bites, and scratches. The teenager, aware of the situation, sought refuge in her headphones, trying to block out the noise emanating from the next room. The muffled sound of

music flooded her ears, providing her with a barrier of isolation against the intensity of the encounter between her parents. With closed eyes and a heavy heart, she swallowed a pill, letting herself be carried away by the sweet promise of oblivion it offered. The enveloping melodies of her music intertwined with the passionate whispers filtering in from the adjoining room, creating a separate world where she could temporarily lose herself. However, even in her self-destructive retreat, a thread of concern persisted within her.

Once her parents left, leaving behind a charged and messy atmosphere, Velvette felt a momentary relief. She sighed deeply as she removed her headphones, allowing the silence to fill the room, if only for a moment. The tranquility was interrupted by Araziel's voice.

"We're ready to go," Araziel announced, his tone firm and decisive. "But I need to talk to you seriously once we get home."

Velvette followed her father with quick steps, feeling Carmilla's gaze boring into her back. Though she tried not to look directly at her, she could sense the anger emanating from her mother like a stifling wave of heat. For the first time in a long time, Velvette realized that she had crossed a line, had hurt her mother in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Carmilla watched her with a mixture of pain and disappointment in her eyes. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her expression was cold and distant. Though Velvette tried to read her thoughts in her face, Carmilla's gaze was impenetrable, hiding her true feelings behind her mask. For a moment, Velvette wished she could turn back time and undo her words, but she knew it was already too late. She had made a grave mistake, one that had angered her mother to a new level.

[j-w-blerd-bulletin-board]

My Journey as a Starfleet Officer: A Fan Fiction Blog

As a Starfleet officer aboard the USS Venture, my journey through the stars has been nothing short of extraordinary. From tense diplomatic missions to exploring uncharted regions of the galaxy, I’ve had the privilege of not only forging my path but also meeting some of Starfleet’s most iconic figures. These encounters have profoundly shaped my perspective and ambitions in the fleet.

Meeting Captain Jean-Luc Picard

My first brush with Starfleet greatness came during a mission to Medara IV, where Captain Jean-Luc Picard was overseeing negotiations to bring the Medaran Confederation into the Federation. As a junior officer assigned to logistics, I didn’t expect much interaction with the legendary captain. However, during a quiet moment between sessions, he invited me to his ready room after hearing about my contributions to the mission.

“Starfleet needs officers like you,” Picard said, his calm but commanding voice filling the room. “It’s not merely about following orders; it’s about understanding the core values of the Federation and bringing them to life. You’ve shown promise in that regard.”

His words ignited a newfound sense of purpose in me.

A Tactical Lesson from Commander Worf

Later, while aboard Deep Space Nine for joint operations with the Klingon Empire, I had the rare opportunity to spar with Commander Worf in the holosuite. His intensity was unparalleled, and every strike felt like a lesson in perseverance. After I narrowly avoided his bat’leth strike and managed to land a counter-move, he grunted in approval.

“You fight with honor,” he remarked. “But remember, a Starfleet officer must also learn when not to fight. Your instincts will determine your path.”

His advice stayed with me, especially during my later missions in volatile regions.

A Fireside Chat with Captain Kathryn Janeway

During a conference on Voyager’s Delta Quadrant discoveries, I found myself seated next to Captain Kathryn Janeway. After a spirited discussion about temporal mechanics, she shared insights about leadership in uncharted territory.

“Every decision you make carries consequences,” she said, her tone reflective. “But the trick is to learn, adapt, and trust your crew. Your journey won’t be easy, but the best ones never are.”

Her words resonated deeply, especially as I considered future command opportunities.

Advice from Spock: Logic and Beyond

On a rare visit to Vulcan, I had the honor of meeting Ambassador Spock. Our conversation began with a discussion of the Vulcan philosophy of IDIC (Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations).

“Logic is a cornerstone,” Spock said, “but it is not the only path. Starfleet officers must often operate where logic ends and intuition begins. You must find a balance, Lieutenant, to truly excel.”

It was a humbling moment, speaking with someone who embodied the heart and soul of Starfleet’s ideals.

My Future in Starfleet

Each encounter reaffirmed my belief in Starfleet’s mission and inspired me to strive for more. While I am currently serving as a lieutenant in the science division, the encouragement from these iconic figures has fueled my ambition to one day command my own starship.

Picard taught me the value of diplomacy and vision. Worf instilled in me the importance of resilience and strategy. Janeway reminded me that leadership is about courage and adaptability. And Spock emphasized the need for balance and self-awareness.

These lessons are now etched into my core as I continue to explore strange new worlds and seek out new life and civilizations. One day, I hope to inspire young officers in the same way these legends have inspired me.

For now, I remain dedicated to my role and the principles of Starfleet, ready to boldly go where no one has gone before.

What about you? Which Starfleet figure has inspired you the most? Let’s chat in the comments!

[valinoar]

hotd ao3 recs that make me slightly feral

it’s finally here!!! i will potentially be adding to this in the future so keep an eye out <3 also this may not stick only to hotd and extend to the wider asoiaf world.

baby teeth by zoe_millin_writes

aemond x helaena. incredibly written aemond character analysis. chapters are from aemond’s pov throughout his childhood and into his adulthood and his trauma surrounding sex, his parents, his injury etc etc is so incredibly and profoundly done. i don’t think i’ve read anything more beautiful and intense. there is also one helaena pov and my god is it so amazingly written. the characterisation and details are out of this world. definitely read all the warnings because it is very intense and potentially triggering. the exploration of aemond’s relationship with religion and by extension his mother and sister is done so well and genuinely what kept me tied to this fic.

see, what had happened was… by daylander

aemond x rhaena. from rhaena’s pov. i can’t remember it all as vividly as i should because i read it a while ago but god is it a delight. it’s funny, sad, amusing, entertaining & overall just so incredible. there is so much about rhaena’s experience living without her sister for so long on dragonstone and how it impacts her relationship with baela. so much about her relationship with daemon and by extension the velaryon/targaryen relations. just so so great. the scenes with rhaena and aemond are just.. chef’s kiss. they’re my favourite chaotic childhood friends to… whatever they are LMAO

spring’s end by navree

oneshot (9k words) from alicent’s pov about the lead-up to her wedding to viserys. made me wince more than a few times just because she deserved so much better :( the way her relationships with rhaenyra, her father, viserys & even criston (although brief) are shown is so beautiful and haunting to me.

would that they were not by navree

i fucking cried. a oneshot (7k words) about the fateful encounter with blood and cheese. so beautifully written and the relationships between the kids, alicent, cole and otto are described so heartbreakingly.

in your grave by 136108

This is the thing you married, the voice in the back of her head whispered gleefully. You saw its pretty smile and its dainty hands and so you dragged it into your bed and upon your cock and trusted that it could never hurt you. You bred it like a bitch and you promised to cut out its tongue and all this time you should have been worried about its teeth. But you did not and now it will leech your throne and your legacy and its pretty mouth will swallow the House of the dragon whole.

SO FUCKING CATHARTIC!!! we deserved vengeful evil alicent and i’m forever mad we didn’t get her… season 2 will be her moment trust. this is a short yet incredibly impactful piece about alicent visiting viserys on his death bed. amazingly written and the most satisfying thing ever.

5 times alicent and criston almost kissed and the 1 time they almost didn’t by gracelesson

I FUCKING CRIED!!!!!!!!!!!! most healing comforting beautiful thing ive read in a while oh my god op is crazy talented i’m in awe. the way s/a, marriage, sexuality & growing up were handled here were literally incredible and i cant even begin to express how much i love this. this is a modern au and it’s probably very different from whatever you’re expecting. i adore the dynamics shown between alicent, cole & her children ugh i swear i feel giddy all over. beautiful.

my hand was the one you reached for by nuncasais

literally the best. snapshots of alicent, criston, and her kids’ lives at the keep during the time jump. i love these types of fics that cover unseen periods of time — the detail and thought gone into each chapter is incredible and so so meticulous. chapters are from either criston or alicent’s pov’s. beware u might (definitely) cry.

[eleanorandphantom]

For the DR ask game 💙

— 🍏 CRISP GREEN APPLE … what’s a memory from your childhood in your DR that stands out amongst the others? the edges of the picture are crisp, it may not be particularly good or bad—but intricately memorable

— 🍅 SCARLET TOMATO … what’s the juiciest secret you’ve ever kept or will keep in your DR? the kind of scandalous thing that would positively burst into drama if revealed

— 🍊 SUNSET CITRUS ORANGE … what’s your favorite kind of outing to go on in your DR, with your friends, family, or your partner? whether it’s a classy art gallery, a carefree rocky beach, or an urban jaunt to the mall, you know you’ll have a good time every time

{+ if you have an s/o}

— 🍉 JUICY WATERMELON … what’s your favorite thing about your lover in your DR? the way they smell like home, how they make your chest hurt with laughter, how they take care of you. maybe the way their hair falls in their face just so

EEEEEEEK IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK THIS!!!! Thank you so much!!

I will be answering from my MPHFPC DR self, Eleanor Peregrine :>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1. 🍏

The first time I’ve ever created my own loop. The sparks I felt coming from my hands, my wings being in flames, seeing the world spin around me as I floated in the air. The wind whipping around me and then it all stopped. It paused, time paused for me. I looked around the once powerful waves of the Wales ocean, now still as a stone. And once I set my pocket watch back, everything went back to motion. The loop was inside of the already created 1940 loop in Cairnholm, and it spanned a few feet wide, it wasn’t much, but it was my first loop. The intense feelings of pride and excitement and exhilaration flowed through my veins like nothing else. That was the moment I felt how truly powerful I was

2. 🍅

I promised myself to never tell this to Emma, but once Abe left, Miss P would ask me to go outside the loop to check in on him at different points of his life. No normal ever saw me, as normals see me as a mourning Dove while peculiar folk see me in my white-phoenix form. I was there when Abe got married, when Franklin and Susan were born, I watched them grow up. I remember how disappointed Abe was that they weren’t peculiar, but he loved them greatly. I would report back to Miss P after every visit, she loved him as her own son and it made her happy to know he was safe and had his own family. it was years later that I went back to check in on Abe, as Miss P decided it was time to stop meddling and let him move on. But now, I left on my own reasons. I had gone to visit Abe give him hell about not answering Emma’s letters, because the week before I came to visit she had a full mental breakdown because of some shit Enoch said about Abe leaving her behind. She begged me to check in on him and to find any form of consolation. But when I got to Florida, it was 7-year old Jacob who answered the door. I was stunned, I could basically see the peculiarness fuming off of him. I introduced myself as a relative to Abe’s neighbor as to not cause suspicion. I ended up giving Abe hell later that day after hanging out with Jacob for a bit. when I got back to Cairnholm, I couldn’t allow myself to tell Emma about Jacob, after I told Emma about Abe getting married and having kids, she wouldn’t speak for months. Now if she knew he had a grandkid, I couldn’t let that happen again. It would be only until Jacob got to Cairnholm that she found out, and thankfully it went well.

3. 🍊

Of course I’m going to say the hidden part of the beach at Cairnholm. We’ve spend endless hours there, it is our go to place for every hang out, date, or party. We walk the beach twice every day, we go swimming, we practice our peculiarities without worrying there would be normals. It is our sanctuary, where we can be us, and not be confined in the house. We can breathe as we run through the thick forestry to get out to the cold waters.

4. 🍉

(so I made a recent change to my MPHFPC script, as well as the rest of my scripts, that my S/O in all of my DR’s is my boyfriend in my CR)

I’m about to rant a lil bit teehee

THE WAY THIS MAN OH MY LAWD-

He is so sweet and gentle and funny and cute and silly and smart OH MY BIRDS HE IS SO SMART

He looks at me like I am the world in his palm, he kisses me like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, he holds me so tight that all I can feel is our warmth and our hearts beating. I’ve never felt so much love and affection and mutual respect for another person. I could never choose one favorite part of him, because everything about him is perfect to me. Yet I understand his flaws, his own burdens, his angst, and I accept and love every bit of him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you so much for the ask, I love answering things about my DRs and it brings me so much motivation ❤️

Happy shifting everyone!!! ♾️