#just wanted to say that i love you. dearly. and am so fortunate to have you in my life.

[the-mighty-het-speaks]

august 3rd, 1963, downey, california, usa

[endless-ineffabilities]

I will never say that I am in love (18+)

{ alternate title: you are the love of my life }

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

When the one-eyed prince falls, the realisation comes to him in the scent of flowers. In his nephew's laughter. In his dreams.

themes/warnings : just pure sweetness, our emotionally constipated and repressed Aemond Targaryen, he thinks some *impure* thoughts in this one (how dare he!!!), he does NOT want to even think about falling in love (what a stupid distraction, he is not weak, you all should know) - also, he is DOWN BAD for the reader.

all my other works

a/n : this is the first fic I'm writing completely in the male lead's, in this case Aemond's perspective. Complete train-of-thought type of storytelling. (also, this is not in my scheduled works, the idea came to me after watching the new promo clips for s2... never in a million eons did I ever think I would hear Ewan Mitchell utter the word "cheugy" but oh well) - Enjoy! 🖤

{ I. flowers ▪︎ II. innocence ▪︎ III. dreams }

I.

Aemond decides that he finds pleasure in your scent.

The thought comes to him as he strolls through the halls of the Red Keep. Not a strong one, not a revelation by any means. A mere inkling of something he favours.

It is innocent. It is nothing.

He had spied some flowers peeking from just beneath a window. Roses, peonies, or some other, he did not bother to truly look. He glanced them out of the corner of his eye.

And he thought of you.

You smell something rather akin to those flowers - blooming and enticing and sweet.

A simple observation, rising to him now from his memory.

That is all.

Your scent reminds him of springtime in the gardens. You are pleasant, there is no doubt, but that very sweetness can only be construed as sickly if divulged in for far too long, too often.

Besides, his icy disposition does not really take well to flowers in the spring. They are more like to whittle under his boot, and shrivel from the coldness in his gaze.

You are not for him. No.

Flowers. Sweet things. The gentleness in your voice when you call him 'my prince'. Aemond scoffs at himself as he walks on.

It is no transgression to be distracted. It is a natural thing.

You are a distraction, and Aemond decides to think of you no more.

II.

Aemond comes to Helaena's chambers to visit with his niece and nephews. It is only by coincidence that you are almost always there too.

"Prince Aemond." Your voice resembles a song in greeting him. "Queen Helaena has just left to speak with Lady Alicent, but she should return shortly."

"Hmm." You are not a lady-in-waiting to Helaena, but more of a companion, a friend. Yet you do not mind looking after Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor when their mother is indisposed.

This is where Aemond finds you, most mornings. Were it anyone else, he might have sent them away, so that he can spend time alone with the children.

But he lets you stay, because, of course, Helaena would prefer it so. She dotes on you so dearly, Aemond has noticed.

In these instances, he lets you stay only because it is what Helaena would want. Why else?

He settles on an upholstered stool and beckons to the children. They eagerly waddle their way over to their beloved uncle.

You watch the interaction with a smile, as you always do. With your legs curled underneath you, comfortably seated on the floor a few feet in front of him.

Aemond used to pay you no mind, but increasingly it has been nagging at him that you are observing, taking him in.

It is inane to be self-conscious; there is no reason to be. He is the Prince - being perceived has been a constant all his life.

He is the Prince, and you are merely a lady companion.

But when you say things like, "They are very fortunate to have you as their uncle, my prince," it makes him feel a sense of pride. Like it is some accomplishment to be complimented by you.

He knows this. He knows he is a good uncle.

Perhaps it is just that. Vanity.

You pointing it out has nothing to do with anything.

Jaehaerys crosses the many strides it takes for him to reach you again, and he pulls at your hand.

"Come," he giggles.

"Where, sweet boy?"

"Come, come here, come here," he mumbles mostly to himself, grunting when you are unmoving and his three-year old form is unable to magically transport you as he wishes.

"Okay," you laugh once, getting on your feet with your body bent to his level, and you let him pull you to where he wants.

Which is... right next to his dearest uncle Aemond.

"There." Jaehaerys claps his hands in glee, as you curl up on the floor beside Aemond's outstretched legs.

"He has a sense of humour, that one," you grin, looking up at Aemond.

Aemond sees your expression up close and you look okay. Comely. Fine. You are not bad-looking, by any means.

You are the most beautiful lady in the court.

You are fine, just fine.

Aemond would not mind seeing your face everyday; he already sees it every night in his dreams.

And it is just fine.

"Is something the matter, my prince?"

Call him that. Do it again. Or better yet, replace prince with his name. Call him 'my Aemond'.

Aemond desires nothing more than to hear it.

Because... because he is vain. Nothing more than that. It would take a high degree of devotion for someone to utter the words 'my Aemond' to him. And who would not want to be at the end of such idolatry.

Perceive him. Worship him. Consume him.

You already consume him.

Aemond stands abruptly, and you scramble to follow suit.

"Aem... Aemond," you stammer. "I mean, forgive me... my prince, what is wrong?"

Aemond looks down. Your delicate hand is gripping his arm, the sleeve of his tunic doing nothing to mask the heat of your skin.

He is of dragon, he is of fire.

But your touch burns.

The clacking of wooden toy horses ring in the background, the children lost in their imagination.

"Nothing," Aemond clears his throat, and folds his arms behind him so your hand falls. "I am alright. I must go."

The smell of sweetness lingers in his nostrils. Your sweetness. He is growing weak.

He steps away, "I bid you farewell, my lady."

"My prince."

Call him Aemond. Call him by his name, title be damned. By the gods, call him yours.

Aemond nearly rushes out of the chambers, his gait sure and his footsteps heavy.

Tonight, in his dreams, he will finally release his foolish desires and that will be the end of it.

Behind his eyes, he will touch you and taste you and watch you crumble underneath him.

And he will be your Aemond.

That will be the climax of this passing fantasy.

III.*

Aemond has stripped down to his undergarments, supine above the silk sheets of his bed. He runs a hand over his face, and he sees you.

All the better for it, he supposes, that he gets rid of it now before it ruins him further.

It is a memory, from only one moon ago, but he sees it clear as day.

You had let your hair down that day, and it flowed freely, following the gentle breeze. Nestled in what Aemond found out to be your favourite spot in the gardens, needle and thread in your dainty fingers, you tell him that you are embroidering a veil for your dear mother.

You request for him to sit with you, and Aemond obeys.

Pleasantries are exchanged, about the weather, your duties, his training. All the while Aemond watches the contour of your lips, how it stretches back to reveal your smile when he says something that could not be the farthest from amusing, but you find it amusing anyway.

He stares you down questioningly.

You blush then, turning your focus back to your work, "Apologies, but I... I admire the way you speak, my prince. As if every word is deliberate, carefully chosen. You are intelligent, and you care what you say."

"Hmm," he said then, but now...

In his mind, he lets you know just what he wants, "Have you ever been bedded, my lady?"

You look at him in shock, of course you do. Those rosy lips part, and Aemond wonders whether your lips below possess the same shade.

In his grand chambers, Aemond lets his hand drift down, down from the planes of his stomach, to his hardened cock. He licks his lips, and imagines the softness of your own. He strokes the leaking tip with his thumb. The picture continues.

"Do you not ever wonder about the deed?" Aemond asks.

"M-my prince...I do not... I - "

"You must," he sneers. "You must, as I do, and when I do, it is you who floods my very thoughts, and consumes my very being."

"I do not know what to say."

"Say you want to kiss me."

His grip tightens, drawing down and up his cock, covering it with the milky white that has leaked from his tip. He is pained, teeth pressing down on his lower lip. He imagines your hands on him, your dress undone as you watch him come undone.

"We mustn't," you look down in shame. Your legs clench together to keep in the warmth.

"Come here, my sweetness," he leads you to sit atop him, and your work clatters to the ground.

You try to look away, try to hide just how much he is affecting you.

"Kiss me," Aemond pleads.

You comply. He slips his tongue past your lips.

Faster, wetter, he gets harder and it is unbearable. His hands are not enough, he wishes to plunge his aching member right into your soaking folds. Wishes to watch beads of his sweat fall on to you as he pounds you without mercy, his cock squelching deep inside your cunny until it is sore. If only you will ache as he does. Come as he comes.

Aemond lifts you up and the two of you end up stumbling down on the grass. He does not relent. His fingers make quick work of the strings and ribbons holding you together. Your breasts come free and he latches his mouth on one, his tongue swirling against the nipple.

"Oh Aemond!" you moan, and it is a scandal. It is everything unholy. It is every dirty thought nestled in his mind.

Soon he has you bare, your skin practically glowing under daylight. You are perfect, and you are his.

"Take me," you say, practically begging. "I want you to fill me with your cock. Fill me with your seed, my dragon prince. Please."

"My sweetness," Aemond reveals himself to you, undoing his breeches and slipping out of his tunic. How could he resist?

"Do you want me?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I want you, my prince," you affirm, squirming under him, you hips bucking up with desire, hopelessly attempting to rub your cunny against his skin.

"My Aemond," he corrects you. "Say it."

"I want you," you say, "my Aemond."

Aemond rubs his cock faster and faster, the thick green veins in his hand and arms straining angrily under his skin. He feels you, he sees you in his mind so clear. You are his, and he is your Aemond.

He plunges his cock inside you, and you are left mewling and writhing as he quickens his assault.

He groans loudly. The lewd squelching of his cock turning sloppy, hasty, mindless. A few more strokes and he comes all over himself, hot white streaks decorating his torso. His silver hair in disarray on the pillows, like a broken halo. Beads of sweat falling from his temple. His mouth parted as he whispers your name.

He gives himself a few more tugs, emptying out. You would do him so much better. Touch him so well.

In his mind, he still sees it. Fragments of his memory bleeding through his fantasies. He does not know anymore what is real and what is not.

He cleans himself up with warm cloth afterward, feeling shame at his actions.

This is enough. Now he has released you from his being. The desire he holds so closely to his chest must have dissipated along with the lewd act he just committed.

"My Aemond," you whisper from behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Enough. No more of such useless musings.

"I love you, Aemond."

I love you too.

🌸🌸🌸

* In III, reality is fully italicized, and his memories + fantasies are typed as normal.

this was meant to have more sections ( IV to VII )... maybe I'll come around to it eventually.

Let me know what you think of this sort of writing from Aemond's perspective!

To be tagged in Aemond or Daemon fics, comment on this post !

[xiaobaosnoona]

Noona's 2024 Drama Wrap-up

Yeah, so don't expect me to make sense, I just need to gush my entire soul out about the dramas that kicked butt for me this year. Also gifs.

Atomic bomb of the year: The Untamed (2019)

The show that altered the chemistry of my brain completely and threw me into an obsession so serious I pulled several people down with me (you're welcome and I am sorry). A chinese fantasy drama that centers around a young man who wants to do what's right even if it costs him everything (and it does), and his soulmate who loved him through two lifetimes. Censored bl that feels zero censored because of the brilliancy and hard work of the cast and crew. Clearly a labour of love for everyone involved. Impossible to water down into a blurb, watch it and you'll understand.

Love blorbo of my life: Li Lianhua

No one else made me fall as deeply as Li Lianhua of Mysterious Lotus casebook (2023). This cynical, too clever, highly whumpable lying liar got me in a chokehold and has yet to let go. His love language is to push people away, but thankfully some people are hard to get rid of. Deserves to be lovingly wrapped in a blanket and fed chocolate until his sadness passes (or possibly forever).

The one I never thought I would love: DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise (2016-2024)

Hi, hello, what the hell happened? This show kinda took over my life and I am seriously confused (standard dmbj experience). One of the queerest shows I've ever laid my eyes on featuring one of china's most famous m/m ships; Pingxie. Filled to bursting with adventure, conspiracies, tomb shenanigans, snakes and the best character dynamics I've ever seen on the small screen. Don't expect everything to make sense, just enjoy the ride. It's a hoot.

I cried my face off because of this: Fangs of Fortune (2024)

This made me suffer from dehydration, flailing arms with feet kicking, and severe gif-making-syndrome. Stunning Chinese fantasy with characters that will unapologetically roundhouse kick you in the heart. Repeatedly. Very queer and doesn't even try not to be. Did I say stunning? The cinematography and costumes are so fucking beautiful that this alone brings tears to your eyes. Just watch it, I can't possibly explain what it's about without starting to cry again.

Has a dear and special place in my heart: Oh no! Here comes trouble (2023)

So well written I want to chug vinegar because I didn't write it myself. Some of the best character dynamics known to man, fantastic stories told with a supernatural twist and (you guessed it) queer vibes that will smack you in the face. Has a wonderfully dumb and grumpy ml that will make you love him unconditionally in a very short amount of time. The drama deals with heavy topics, like grief and abuse, and balances it out delicately with ridiculousness and humour.

Favorite BL: History 3: trapped (2019)

The cutest little twink police falls in love with the mob boss he's been trying to catch for four years. Adorable low-spicy Taiwanese bl that utilizes the often seen het-romance drama tropes in a low key hilarious and endearing way. Enemies to lovers? Uhuh. Grumpy/sunshine? Mhm. Catch the love interest in your arms as they trip and fall? Yup. Everything wrapped in soft romantic lighting as you stare into each other's eyes? Yesss. And do i love it? FUCK YEAH. Actually does have a pretty solid plot as well, which made it a real home run for me.

Underrated gem: 19th Floor (2024)

A less queer version of Spirealm (but watch me try and find every queer crumb in it if it kills me). Got me on the edge of my seat most of the time, had characters I loved dearly with great development, adorable bromance with cheek smooches, and het-romance that didn't make me want to scratch my face off. FL kicks serious ass and is allowed to be unapologetically herself throughout the whole show. Also this show has Bai Shu and that is always a win.

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

As someone who writes and someone who reads a lot of writing, I have something I'd like to say to other creators.

At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, I never leave comments. On anything. It's actually a habit I'm actively trying to break out of as I get further along into my writing career because I know how much comments mean to me and so I want to provide that for the creators I come across.

But the grand grand grand majority of work I have read and loved? I have never commented on. To this day, I have never written a review on Goodreads. Not even for books that have stuck with me since I was a child. I've never written a comment on any of the fanfiction I've read or on any Tumblr art that I come across.

I am speaking about work that has literally changed my life. There are fanfictions out there that I have remembered for years after I read them. The authors have no idea. I never wrote a comment letting them know. They have no clue how much their work meant to me and impacted me. Just yesterday I was thinking about a fan fiction I read when I was early in my teen years (so about 10 years ago or so). To be fair I don't think I could have written an eloquent comment at 13, but that's not the point. The point is that I remembered that fanfiction after 10 whole years and the creator doesn't have the slightest clue in the world that their words re-entered the mind of someone who has not revisited the work for a decade.

There are so many fanfictions that I have bookedmarked that I genuinely love to death, and I've never said anything under them. I still reread them to this day even though I bookmarked them when I was much younger. There are certain lines in them that have given me feelings that I have tried to replicate in my own writing. I hope that people who read my work can feel how I felt when I read some of the fanfics that I have saved on my phone. The creators, again, have literally no idea. Don't get me wrong: their fanfics have gotten comments from other people, but if I'm anything to go by then there are so many other people who never verbally expressed their love even though they absolutely do have love for the work.

To be quite honest I am just not the type of person who thinks to write comments. Even though I fully understand how much comments mean to creators (which is why I'm going out of my way to be better about leaving them), I just... Have never been the type of person to write about how much a piece of art means to me. A piece of art can shake me to my absolute core and imprint on me and I will never tell the person who made it how much I love it.

As someone who also creates, I know how it feels to get low engagement on work you have spent an inordinate amount of time on. I know it can be discouraging and make you feel like what you make isn't worth anything. I also know firsthand that someone can have an indescribable amount of love for what you do and keep that to themselves. I am not the only person out there like this. That's not a guess. I've heard people before say that they feel weird commenting on work that is "too old" even though they love it. Or they feel like creators don't want to get a notification for a simple "woah".

Someone can love your work dearly and not think to comment for a number of reasons. That doesn't mean that your work isn't valuable and it doesn't mean nobody loves it. And honestly? Even if your work really does only bring you joy, I still think that you should create it! But that's a point for another post. My point for this one is that a lot more people silently love your work than you realize. Unfortunately (or very fortunately depending on how you look at it) they probably outnumber the people who do comment.

So I'm sharing this with all other creators. You have so many silent lovers. Secret admirers exist in the world of creating, too, and I think that that is very important for you to remember. If you ever feel down about the fact that people may not say the things that you want them too? Consider that they're thinking it instead. Keep creating!!

[chaosfairy18]

perchance some binch (buttons + finch) drabble??? they're my sillies and i love them so dearly /nfta

@finchesslingshott

First of all Hello!

I do have to say I don't really do much livesies/stage musical stuff (sorry) nor have I ever really done much thinking on Finch or Buttons even as individual characters nor as a ship (I prefer Redfinch) but since you've been so kind to send me an ask I tried my best. I really only have Hotshot as a recurring character in my writing and even then she is very different from canon Hotshot.

Buttons is Tadhg McCarthy (his canon name in UKsies) and he got the name because he 'has his buttons' (being smart) but I still made him sew. (Thanks to Nox for the UKsies infos <3)

Finch isn't even here that much but I write him mostly like my dear friend @clevereverest makes me think of him, I love her Redfinch writing

Mostly this is actually Buttons character study a bit and his friendship with another pickpocket who sews: Swifty. Because I am 99% 92sies focused and I needed to at least have one character I already know how to write.

Now enjoy: (750 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buttons wasn’t sure what to do with Finch always having some rip in his clothes. Naturally he’d help him, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. For most people he’d ask for a fee for patching their things up – if they didn’t want that they could go to someone else – but with Finch he regrettably couldn’t do that as they were close.

Didn’t mean he had to be happy about not getting a bit more money.

Admittedly he had gotten more than enough today by relieving some people of their change.

In the bunkroom – where his sewing kit was – there was only one other newsie, Swifty, apparently doing the same thing. They got along well – thief’s codex and all that – so he sat on the bunk across from him to do his own stitching. “Hey Swifts.”

“Buttons.” Swifty grinned his usual lopsided grin. “Finch again?”

Buttons groaned, looking at the ceiling. “Idiot tears his thin’s every day. Shirts, pants, hat. Last week t’was his socks.” Of course he knew partly how it happened, Finch climbed up some tree and the branches nicked his clothes, he fell down and scraped his knees, he got in fights and teared something else.

“You’d earn a fortune if ya actually took his money.” As much as his tone was teasing, Buttons had a feeling Swifty was thinking something more than what should be going on.

“Can’t rob ‘im blind like that.”, he just said dismissively, getting out his scissors and thread.

“Mhm.”

“What’re you doin’ anyways? One of the littles ripped somethin’?” The kids always tumbled around and Swifty was close to both Flipper and Tumbler – mostly through them being close to Skittery and Bumlets, who were his best friends – and he’d also do a lot for Boots or Snipeshooter, not to mention Splasher. Though Splasher would have come to Buttons for sure.

Swifty held the shirt he was doing something on closer to Buttons, showing a little cat on the hem of it, embroidered in black. “I’m puttin’ little cats on all of Skittery’s clothes to see when he notices. I’m runnin’ out of clothes actually.”

“Bold of you to assume he’s lookin’ at his clothes when he puts them on.”

“It’s still fun. Tumbler loves it, says Skitts is like a cat anyways.”

They talked a bit more, also about what they had stolen the last few days, laughing about some of the close escapes they’d had or reactions they got after stealing various things. Swifty even managed to get a whole dollar, not even wanting to show it, already having it stocked away somewhere. Not that Buttons would have stolen it from him… probably. It would have gotten him such good clothes and sewing equipment though.

It was tempting, but thief’s honour kept him from actually doing it.

A bit later Finch came in, just as Buttons was almost finished, looking eager to get his vest back. “You done yet?”

“Almost.”, he just said dismissively, Swifty snickering from his bunk.

“Let the man work. With how much you’re givin’ him one could think you’re doin’ it on purpose.” Before Finch could reply to that, Swifty had jumped up, shoved the newly embroidered shirt in Skittery’s drawer and quietly disappeared down the stairs, steps light as always.

Finch’s eyes widened a bit, and he looked apologetic. “I promise I ain’t doin’ it on purpose, Tadhg. Just happens.”

“Yeah yeah. You’re just a clumsy bird.” Jumping up, cutting off the last thread, he held out the vest, newly patched, almost looking like new. Or at least the same as before. “There you go. Don’t go and rip it open again, if you keep givin’ me that much business I will have you pay for it. Runnin’ out of thread with all this.”

“I’m sure you won’t lose your buttons though.”, Finch laughed, referring to how Buttons got his nickname, from having all his wits with him. Having his buttons in order, so to speak. It was one of the better nicknames anyhow, as it also fit with sewing.

Finch slipped into the vest and grinned, leaning forward and kissing Buttons’ cheek. “Thanks again, really. I’ll get you some thread or cloth or somethin’. Promise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Just don’t keep making people suspicious with all this. They’s bound to notice I treat you special.”

“Not that they’re wrong.”

“Finch.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He pecked his lips. “See you later.”

Buttons got to sew up two more of his clothes just this week.

[sillywabbits]

👉👈 ...does anyone else kinda wish Tumblr had an option that allowed you to hide the Note count on posts? Like, just a completely optional thing each user can toggle on/off according to their comfort/preference. Kinda like how insta gives you the option to view the number of likes, or just hide the number completely.

Lil' RSD vent/feeling share below. No pressure to read. Just been meaning to put my feelings down somewhere;

It's just.. for me personally, my mean RSD ridden brain overthinks when I see numbers.. constantly putting me in a state of comparing myself.. or question the appeal of my work.. or making me feel like my value as an artist is measured by that count. And maybe it partly ties into my own weird insecure, self worth feelings. But mostly just.. it makes me get caught in my brain about if my art is even likable or decent enough to be appealing? Or annoying for people to look at? Or.. if the kind of stuff I make isn't a lot of people's cup of tea? I draw nothing but fluffy mush. My brain makes me anxious and insecure if that's boring or.. not interesting enough for others to like. I don't really dabble in angst or what my brain has deemed the, "cooler content."

I know rationally I nor anyone can draw to appease everyone. As I would tell anyone else feeling these types of things, someone out there will enjoy what you do. (And I've met some super kind of people who have said immensely sweet and endearing things about my stuff. And I thank you endlessly for it! /gen 💞)

And ultimately you should just draw what makes you happy to make yourself happy. Draw for yourself first and foremost.

..but

I wish my brain wouldn't emotionally rely on engagement from others for motivation to make art. I wish drawing things that make me happy, and the joy of making it in general was enough to motivate me better.

I don't think this is helped by how slowwww my art process is, and how my undiagnosed ADHD really makes it hard for me to will myself to draw as often as I'd like. My muse comes in spurts, one drawing/sketch can take me days to finish. And after all the energy and time it took, I think maybe I emotionally take things harder and am susceptible to getting disheartened/sensitive when my brain locks in on that number count. Making it a little harder to muster up more desire and energy to wanna draw again.

Sometimes thoughts of, 'when there are so many people that make the things you like to make, and it already exists and they're so cool, good and special for it.. why should you bother trying?'

And as a disclaimer, these are just anxiety-ridden thoughts! I don't think I fully 100% actually believe them!

They're just the thoughts my brain likes to bring to the forefront sometimes. When I'm experiencing RSD or feeling insecure/anxious. (I think these feelings can feel bigger maybe due to how my neurodivergency can affect me too.)

And god is it such a double standard. If any fellow person were sharing similar types of thoughts/feelings, I would have 101 ways to rebuttal and assure those mean thoughts of theirs away.

..but it's so hard to apply to same exact advice/care toward yourself. It's harder when it's you on the inside. You brain has made you feel like you're the exception. Like you don't deserve that same assurance for some reason. (Not saying this is true; just.. how my mean brain likes to talk at me fjdk /hj)

Again, I want to emphasize these aren't rational thoughts. They're just the feelings that get welled up inside me when I feel insecure. (It's one of many talking points I'd love the opportunity to bring up when I'm fortunate enough to get myself a therapist lol <3)

--

💕~Thank you dearly to anyone who was curious and felt they were in a place to read all this. They're just feelings that have been burrowed inside me I haven't really put out there yet. I know this community is super sweet and supportive, which is why I love being here. But I couldn't help feel a bit shy about sharing this stuff.

[androgynousblackbox]

Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 1 [Appleradio]

"Hello, hello, my dear listeners! Your dear radio host Alastor is here to give you, once again, the most warming welcome to your favorite station here in our splendid town of Hazbin Vale. It's truly quite a pleasure to being back on the air after that rather unfortunate murder that happened near the studio.

Yes, indeed, truly unfortunate that an unruly teenager didn't pick a better target to pick on late at night when some individuals want to just grab some milk at the gas station and had to live the consequences. But is exactly as they say, my friends; you reap what you saw and that night the scythe of death must have felt a little bit… impatient than usual.

But there's no need to worry about that! I am sure that the thirst for death has been quench for now and there won't be any other danger on the horizon. You see, I am just cursed with an unbearable optimism, dear listener, so I am sure that you will be going home without no worry or concern in your tender, warm, little hearts tonight. Back to your lovely families who all can let a sigh of relief because there is nobody outside watching through the window. Or are there? I would close the windows and keep the lights out, just to be safe.

Back again to our waste of youth, I mean, our dearly departed young delinquent, I think I saw their foot sticking out from behind the counter at the gas station when I pased this morning. The police must have been too busy picking up all the other pieces that they missed it! If any of our valiant police officers could take care of that so the whole body could be put underground that would be lovely. For the family, of course!

I actually tried to get some comment from the police chief Husk to give you all, but someone must have skipped on their greasy filled donuts breakfast this morning because the old man Husk just shush me away, insisting that they were already taking care of everything.

Truly, how rude is that? Has the police never heard about such a thing as freedom of press? Outrageous, I tell you that! But even though I could stay and argue for my civil rights, as I had every right to do, dear listener, I instead walked away to my radio tower while humming to myself our last hit of yesterday, "Murder on the dance floor!" I don't know why I got that particularly melody stuck in my head so much.

Oh, nevermind that. For whoever may care, or be morbidly curious about it, the service for the body will be tomorrow at 9 AM in our local church. Despite the many flaws of her offpring, his mother is a nice lady that knows to stay quiet when it's convenient for her, so please, send her my most sincere condolecencies if you happened to see her. I believe she was planning to move out of town right after putting her son to rest, as she told me herself this morning on my way here. Since of course I had to make sure that she was in a good state of mind and wasn't causing a ruckus trying to say to the police things she shouldn't have.

Poor woman. I can't imagine what it must feel like to have such a loss. The sense of relief to have one less mouth to feed can be overwhelming. She will surely be missed, whatever her name was!

In other less satisfying news, the universe truly has it's own way to balance everything because as soon someone was out, someone else is comming in. That is right, dear listener, while I was having my morning stroll I happened to hear all about our new resident in town that moved to the old abandoned house at the outskirt of everything. From what I could gather by the power of people's gossip, this man is a inventor who primarly makes toys and has made a considerable fortune out of it. How nice.

He plans to revive the toy store that had to shut down two years ago when that whatisherface rude clerk was slaughtered in a particularly hilarious manner there and the cowardly owners ran away. We all remember that incident. They never did find her delicious soft hands, did they?

Another tragedy that we all mourned together, indeed. The closing of the toy store, that is. The youth does really need space to entertain themselves in a safe and controlled environment. Maybe if some teenagers had something like that growing up, they wouldn't have ended up on the ground, ha ha!

Who knows, it could even revitalize a little bit of the spark this town used to have. Now everyone is so afraid and paranoid, talking about all these sudden and inexplicable attacks as if they were worth mulling over rather than an inevitability of life. As if thinking about it is ever going to stop a knife directed to the throat. A waste of time if you ask me.

So a nice change of pace might be exactly what we all need! I heard that this inventor even brought along his own daughter, that should be starting in preschool for the next week if I am not mistaken. I haven't been able to meet the man yet, but it sounds like at the very least could be interesting for three whole minutes if I am lucky. Five if a miracle happens. Oh, along with my optimism, I have also been cursed with too high expectations, it seems.

What I can say? I am a dreamer at heart.

Ah, new blood is always rather exciting, don't you think, listener? Me, I am not particularly fond of children, especially the rude ones, but I am nothing if not flexible to whatever changes may come our way and my curiosity is always killing. That is how the saying goes, isn't it? Ha ha, we have a lot of fun here, don't we?

I think great things are about to happen here, in this lovely quaint town of ours, listener. I can feel it on the air. It's crinkling and static with energy, after so, so long. It's finally waking up. I know you feel it too.

Be sure to give the toy maker a welcome only worthy of Hazbin Vale when you have the chance. Tell him that Alastor will always be reporting the news of this town and to tune in with the rest of us whenever he wants. Remember: I am always here. I will be here to delight your ears for as long you breath and long after you are done breathing. I can never stop or be stopped. That is a promise.

Now, for the weather…"

[dragongirldeity]

there's currently a very rare thunderstorm in San Francisco. i am sitting on my couch and generally enjoying this moment in life, because the past several years have been full of trials and tribulations. life is exhausting as a transfem, since my existence is first and foremost Political, and Up For Debate, while i largely just want to exist with my friends and loved ones and not be bothered.

of course, civilization being what it is right now, i am largely not afforded the luxury of getting to simply not be bothered about my existence. i can tune out some amount of it, for sure, but there's just such a volume of transmisogyny across society that it's always a status debuff i have to work against or put out of mind.

the past few years have been difficult, between graduating shortly before covid-19 (most of my 20s have been a weird haze of quarantining), amicably parting with my partner of 7 years (we have grown and simply have different wants now). i've never actually had many long-term support vectors in my life: i was sent to a religious high school, and wasn't allowed or able to keep in contact with any of my friends from growing up. i am estranged from my parents since they e-stalked me and have generally never respected my boundaries or autonomy as a person, and that's without getting into the mess of them Not Liking Me Being Queer. a lot of my friends have been moving away from the bay area, because building queer-trans community is Fucking Difficult when basically everyone in the bay area is only here transiently (and when a lot of queer stuff in the bay is cis-queer and not trans-queer, too). and that's why i myself am moving away later this year: much of my social graph has moved, and my attempts to regrow things here for the past year-and-change..... haven't been unsuccessful, but i think have helped me realize that even if i have a Fulfilling Social Graph here again, i would still be happier elsewhere, away from all the tech companies and nimbys and generally-constant sunny days (i am a vampire who enjoys the rain).

suffice it to say that life is generally difficult for a lot of trans people right now. life is difficult for your average people in general right now with the general socioeconomic situation we're in. life is more difficult for trans people, since we face nearly constant discrimination and harassment and hate and legislation. and then life can be even more difficult in typical life ways on top of that.

i still have things better than a lot of my peers: my computer autism means i have a reasonably stable job & career path. my best friend, whom i dearly love and cherish, was just in town visiting me last week. a few of my long-time internet friends live a few blocks away, and my two cats unconditionally love me. i do have people in my life who love me and care about my well-being. i am, blessedly, not alone in all this. and on top of all that i am fortunate enough to have found a pretty good therapist who can help me navigate and compartmentalize and process all of the struggles i face, since it's frankly a lot for a disabled autistic transfemme to navigate on my own.

the main thing that has been so hugely positive here is The Internet. the community i have would not really exist if not for The Internet. the social hubs that i cultivate and operate for my friends are, of course, on the internet. i meet friends-of-friends on discord and tumblr and telegram and whatnot, and it's truly great being able to be and feel so connected because of it.

and yet......... even on the internet, we are not free of anything. if anything, we're more vulnerable on the internet; our online identities and presences are intertwined, connected, and visible; it's easy for hateful motherfuckers to find the most vulnerable people online and go after them. if one part of your presence is found, it's a thread a stranger can try and unravel to expose you, to wield against you. at least in person, you can always put up a façade, walling off strangers and giving them nothing else to go off of; online, we just project an entity to be perceived, and often times aren't really aware of everything.

there's. a point here i wanted to make, somewhere. i wanted to say something with all this. i think it's that for a lot of us, we are just tired of all the fucking transmisogyny around every corner. it's already so much struggling to exist as a person In General at this moment in time. It's even harder having to face hate and struggle to exist even online just because you're a transfemme who wants to drop the façade around those like you. we're not allowed to have our own digital communities without outsiders wanting to look in and police us there, too.

for a lot of us, we are simply too tired and overwhelmed from everything else to also deal with this a lot of the time. and yet, deal with it we must, because we will be harassed. we will have headass CEOs saying headass CEO stuff. we will have politicians trying to legislate our right to exist away.

this is a lot to say that i don't regret anything about transitioning or whatever. i love being trans. it's a beautiful experience and i am much better for it, and am wholeheartedly glad to be trans, glad to know the trans people i know, and glad to love as i love. it is, truly, the neverending transmisogyny that is the problem, and it is truly exhausting having to deal with the transphobia and transmisogyny. nowhere is free from it except for the small insular exclusive spaces we carve out for ourselves.

take care of each other. love the transfemmes and transmascs in your life unabashedly, because there's functionally infinite amounts of hate we have to deal with at every corner, and aside from absolutely bodying the hate out of existence, the next best thing you can do to help is to support and love the trans people you know and treat them with compassion.

[jakeperalta]

On my third listen to ttpd and I am for the first time changing opinions on the mh affair. When the news of the rebound came out, I was extremely shocked and disgusted, because he truly is a piece of trash. I think listening to her music, I can put myself in her place more easily, because I too once fell in love with a guy who was a complete idiot (at the time I was truly blind and just too young). Then I thought about some family members who have awful political opinions and with whom I'm always annoyed, but whom I still love dearly simply because we have a history together, a bond and they did generous loving things for me as well and helped me when I most needed. I think in the end human relations are complicated and complex. Flawed people who are objectively idiots sometimes find their way into our hearts because of a series of (mis)fortunes. Everyone is nuaced and our relationships especially. All of this to say that in the end we are sometimes so chronically online that we forget that they are real people and that we don't know them at all, their stories and motivations, yet feel like we know how they should act. I am coming to the conclusion that I will probably step away from the fandom for a while to be able to enjoy things without completely putting so much my opinion and energy on them. Idk I'm having an existential crisis bestie and wanted to know your opinion since you also took a step away. Do you maybe understand what I'm trying to say?

I totally understand this! I do agree I think it was clearly a bad time of bad decisions and whilst it's never going to not give me the ick (particularly that quote that was like "she doesn't care what people think because she's on top of the world!" 😬) I can appreciate that sometimes people do just date shitty people that don't necessarily reflect who they are (the description of it in the prologue poem as a mutual manic episode and self harm says a lot about the decision making or lack of). similarly some of the lyrics of but daddy I love him are offputting but I know that her radar of what is valid criticism and what's just miserable haters is totally skewed (not that it's an excuse and I do think it's something she could do with being better on, but it does help understand it). like you say, people and their relationships are complex and flawed sometimes.

I think it's always a good thing to take a step back from fandom spaces at times — I know the past few days I've been a lot more in it but overall I've found that being a bit less immersed in every bit of discourse and debate makes it easier to just put that time and energy into simply enjoying the music!

[goldyluna]

🌟💖🤝🗝️🪓👔🃏🍀💭🪆🥦 (sorry for such a big ask, I’m very curious D: )

Holy moly. It is a lot and post will be looooong, but I am up for the challenge

🌟Who is your favorite yttd character?

Shin. He is my hiperfixation from yttd, (un)fortunately and has been for so long now. He just fits with all the other characters that are my favourite perfectly. He is mean, angry, scared, is repressing his true emotions, really cares for others he loves and is pretty... And at the beginning I found him so annoying. My type is really specific, I guess

💖Which character in yttd do you think you would be friends with?

Nao, Reko and Anzu, I think! I, maybe, would also be able to befriend Kanna and Gin. I just think they are so so soooo cool (especially Reko) and it is kinda my wishful thinking that I would be friends with them.

We have a lot in common! I am an artist, love music, jesters, cats and, uhhh, buckets? Lol, a match made in heaven, am I right or am I right?

🤝Which character in yttd would you trust the most?

Mishima. He just looks like a really reliable adult that I can trust. He is a little eccentric, but I love weird friends. He showed in the game he is a really good person and wants others to find comfort in him. But also I think maybe Reko. She also is really reliable and is really good with kids. Really gentle but also sharp

🗝Do you think you would pass your first trial?

I like to think that yes. But it depends on what my First Trial would look like tbh

If I was with one of the ones I love and care about, like Sara and Kanna were, then I am positive we would live. We would work together and get out. And if I was in one similar to Q-taro's or Shin's then I would also survive. The games were individual and, I think, easy enough

If I was in a game like Keiji had or like Alice, where I would be with someone that holds a grudge/I am dependent on the someone I am with, then it really depends on the person if I live or not...

Dunno if I would survive any of the Trials of the Dummies, If I'm being honest. They look bad and we don't really know much about them

🪓If you could design a first trial, what would you do?

I am really not sure. I usually take inspiration from different death games like Alice in Borderland, Saw, Squid games or any other thing where people must try to survive. BUT. I also have my Purgatory Trials au and I have some fanfic ideas from AiB so I can cheat a little and say some here (not a lot)

One is a Trial of Aletheia — participants make groups (4 people) and have to say truths about themselves. If the secrets are bigger then there is more points. If someone lies or tells half-truth, then points are taken away. If the points limit isn't met in 30/45 minutes then the whole group dies

Other ideas are just kid games, Hide and Seek where participants must hide from the Seekers but also find some objects. Rock, Paper, Scissors as one of the easiest but also really random. Or a game of Wolves and Sheep (or Mafia) with Wolves attacking at night and Sheep must figure out who are the Wolves before all of them die.

I know, not really original, but sometimes easy is key for interesting takes

👔Who is your favorite floormaster?

I think Miley. I really like her redesign and role in the game. I also didn't like her that much at the beginning, but with time I fell in love with this character. I can't wait to see what she will do in the final! Because I am sure we will see her again

Honorable mention: Maple. She isn't a Floormaster but I love her dearly. She deserves the best and she really was something interesting and nice in chapter 3

🃏Which card would you most want to have in a Main Game?

Keymaster I think is the most save cad, even if it is really weird to say. Then they can't pick me as all of them will die. The situation isn't comfortable as there is a chance they won't believe it but usually people decide to not play with fire. So Keymaster is the immunity in the game

Sacrifice is horrible because you have to be picked to survive and then only you and the one other person are safe. Sage and Commoners are safe choices to pick to die. Maybe as the Sage you know who the Keymaster is, but they still can die. With commoners is the same, they just don't have anything important going on with their roles

🍀What do you think your win % would be?

Something below 10% for sure. I would die so hard during Attractions. Like, it is possible I survive but also things happen, you know?

💭What is your favorite yttd AU idea?

I will be really self centric with this one but I really like my Your Turn To Live. It is nothing revolutionary or wow, I know there are so many aus like that, because it is simple and good. I just love the idea of some guys escaping and trying to live on. Mine favourite is Logic Route Escape with Shin, Sara, Gin and Keiji. But I love also seeing ones with Kanna and Reko/Alice

🪆If you could replace your limbs with doll parts like Sou, would you?

It would be really tempting as I am not really loving my body. But in the end, I think I would not if it was not necessary

🥦What name did you give Midori? Or did you keep it the same?

I stayed with the original, Midori. But while playing with @avopumpkin we decided to name him Chuj — a polish word for "Dick" but it can also be translated as "piece of shit". It was splendid and really funny for us lol

[josefavomjaaga]

Letter from Josephine to Eugène

Translated from “Les Beauharnais et l’empereur”, edited and published by Jean Hanoteau, containing letters written by Josephine and Hortense to Eugène while the latter was in Italy. This is in fact the very first of those letters.

Plombières, 18 Thermidor [an XIII = August 6, 1805]

No, my dear Eugene, I have not forgotten you [...]

Should be the standard introduction for any of Josephine's letters, considering how long it took her to write.

[...] for I am constantly occupied with you, with what you are doing, with your pleasures, but above all with your sorrows, and I assure you that when I learn that you are suffering some vexation, I am more affected than you are. The Emperor always seemed to me to be pleased with you; he was only a little annoyed that you had sent for a man who had made false statements. He said - and rightly so - that you should have had him reprimanded by the Minister of Police and that it was not in keeping with your dignity to have him come to you. But he said that this was coming from a young man and a young man with honour. It would be curious to know from whom he heard this.

Fortunately, Her Majesty's curiosity can easily be satisfied: The guy chatting so unwisely was a certain Prince Eugène, Viceroy of Italy, who still believed he had to dutifully account to his stepfather for every move he made. But he will soon receive a letter from Duroc with some advice between the lines: Just don't tell him everything, dimwit.

Besides, he knows your devotion to him and your attachment to him and he loves you dearly. The same is not true of his family. They saw with the greatest sorrow your nomination. Murat always plays the courtier. His wife has been ill. It seems so, because she is quite changed. She has retained that air which she calls dignity (which I call composure) which does not suit her at all. It's wrong for all these people not to like us. If they wanted to be good people, they could not have better friends than us.

Sounds like all bridges have already been burned between the Beauharnais and the Murat side of the family. Unfortunately, we do not get to know what "playing the courtier" means and if it is related to the "Duchatel" affair that allegedly caused Eugène some brief disgrace. Josephine does sound somewhat jealous of Murat's influence in these letters.

The Emperor is always very kind to me. I also do whatever it depends on me to do to please him. No more jealousy, my dear Eugene, and what I am saying to you is quite true. This way, he is happier and I am happier. I cannot tell you anything about the political news, it is a mystery which the Emperor never lets you in on. He is at this moment in Boulogne. All I know is that he has been waiting for eight days for a letter which was to decide his departure. You probably know that the Prince of Baden's marriage has fallen through, which gives great hope for the person you know.

Yes, that person would be a certain princesse Auguste. Though, in her opinion (and in that of the whole Bavarian court) the marriage to Karl von Baden was still happening. Of course it would be happening!

I have seen her portrait. She is as beautiful as can be. Your sister is well, as are the children. I had the second child with me at Saint-Cloud, and he is very beautiful. Louis is still in the same state. I am looking forward, my dear Eugène, to midwinter. That is the time when you promised to come and see me. How happy your mother will be! You will know, my dear son, that I grieve every day at being separated from you and that my eyes are always filled with tears whenever I think of you or am spoken to about you. If I have not written to you since my arrival, it is because I have been very tired and tormented by visits. Besides, there was nothing new; I shall write to you every week from now on.

Eugène: Sure, mum... (It took her another month until she sent of her next letter.)

I have agreed with Lavallette to send him my letters. Goodbye, my good Eugene, the most tender of sons. Your mother embraces you with all her heart and loves you madly.

A thousand kind things to Mme Litta and Méjan.

[ermwhattehsigma]

Hi!! If you're still accepting prompts, can I ask one where Hop takes care of Leon? I imagine Leon did a lot of that to his baby brother before he became.champion so Hop can return favor! Thank you! (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

Of course! I love these two dearly, so I can never say no to a request featuring them. Also, I hope that you don’t mind me taking your idea and running with it. I am a fiend for suffering.（'̀ω'́）

——————————————————————————————————

These past few days have been a whirlwind of emotions for Hop. Between losing to his best friend in the semifinals of the Champion Cup, having to deal with Rose unleashing the second Darkest Day, and watching as his dream of defeating Leon falls into the hands of someone who isn’t him, he feels like a rag that’s been wrung dry. He is proud of his rival– immensely so– but their continuous triumph over him combined with the insanity that was Eternatus has left him emotionally drained. He doesn’t think he has the capacity to go out right now and congratulate his friend, who is likely stepping off of the field at this very moment to a swarm of buzzing reporters and adoring fans.

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), he doesn’t need to go and face that reality quite yet, because where there’s a winner, there’s a loser. Since he himself was a challenger, Hop is allowed to go where he wants within Wyndon Stadium, to a certain degree. So, the moment the battle has concluded and the screens switch to the broadcasters, he legs it towards Leon’s locker room. He’s the only one outside of it when he arrives, which he takes as his sign to head in without any repercussions.

He is immediately met with the sight of his brother, sitting on the bench closest to the field entrance, with his cape and his cap resting next to him. Leon is hunched over where he sits, and at first Hop thinks he might be crying, but as he steps forward he realizes he’s clutching his abdomen in pain. Alarm bells immediately go off in his brain.

“Lee? Are you alright?”

His abrupt question seems to startle the now former Champion, who pulls himself straight and looks to the side. He visibly relaxes when he notices the person with him is Hop.

“Hey, little bro. Yeah, I’m alright. Just a bit sore is all.” As if to prove his point, the other tries to stand up, but doing so causes him to wince and grasp his side once more. Hop rushes over when he hears him suck in a breath through his teeth, forcing him to sit back down so he doesn’t hurt himself further.

In hindsight, Hop should’ve known Leon hadn’t fully recovered from the injuries he received during his battle with Eternatus. He had been unconscious for almost two days, for crying out loud, and barely allowed himself an extra day of rest before insisting the championship match be held. On top of that, Hop had noticed some unusual behavior during the match, whether that be a twitch of the eye or hand from him. It might not have been noticeable to others, especially when everyone’s attention was fixed on the battle itself, but Hop has watched all of Leon’s matches multiple times over. These sort of discrepancies stood out like a sore thumb to him.

“You haven’t healed at all, have you?” Hop asks, frowning at his brother. All he gets is a guilty smile in return, so he goes on, “Didn’t you think about whether you’d be able to have a proper battle like this?”

“I was certain my team and I can weather anything, and we did just that.”

“That’s rich, coming from the bloke who can hardly stand right now!” He scolds him, then scoops up his cape and cap, “Come on, let's get you somewhere you can rest. You have a penthouse here in Wyndon, don’t you?”

Leon looks at him like he’s just suggested heresy, reaching to take his cape back from the other, only to have his hand slapped away.

“Ow!- But what about everyone waiting outside? They’re surely going to want a word from me, as well as some pictures-”

“They can wait until later. Besides, you don’t exactly look picture ready.”

He frowns at Hop for saying that, but upon feeling his forehead and finding it caked with sweat, he relents. The two of them sneak out from the locker room, Hop holding his cape in one arm and his cap in the other, taking a path through the stadium that would ensure they remain unbothered by the public. It takes longer than it normally would have due to Leon’s condition, but they eventually exit through a staff-only back door. From there, Hop lets out his Corviknight to fly them both, since Leon’s Charizard would be far too conspicuous.

After all of that, they finally arrive at Leon’s penthouse. Hop has always known of its existence, and he’s seen a couple of photos of the interior, but this is his first time actually visiting it in person. From what he remembers, the only reason Leon got it was because Rose insisted he had a base of operations here in Wyndon, where he spends a majority of his time. Rose is behind bars now, though, so Hop wonders faintly what Leon plans to do with the place now.

He pushes the door open the moment Leon’s turned the key to unlock it. The flat is far more spacious than the photos had led him to believe, and the overall design of it is quite modern and sleek. The living room and kitchen are joined together, with a marble countertop island separating the two. It’s about what he’d expect from a penthouse in Wyndon, but it doesn’t feel like the sort of place he can see Leon living in. His brother is the kind of person that can subsist off of the bare minimum, so long as he gets to continue facing strong trainers.

Hop makes a beeline for the couch, dumping the cape and the hat onto it. Shortly after, Leon collapses onto the articles of clothing, then lets out a grunt as he pulls the cap out from underneath his torso and tosses it aside without a care. Hop picks it up, not wanting to leave it on the floor. It feels like an important item, being Leon’s signature cap and whatnot.

“Lee, which way’s your bedroom?”

The other turns his head so that his face is no longer pressed into the couch and points down one of the halls. Hop quickly thanks him and heads that way, finding the bedroom door easily thanks to the fact it's open. He puts the cap somewhere it won’t be bothered before taking a pillow and a sheet from the bed. With those items secured, he returns to the living room.

Surprisingly enough, Leon has managed to wrangle himself into a sitting position now, and is reaching for the remote. He stops when he notices Hop approaching with the sheet and pillow, giving him a weak smile. “Aw, you don’t need to do all this for me, Hoppet. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Hop rolls his eyes. He’s been hearing that nickname ever since he was little, and even now after losing his Champion title and fighting a millennia old dragon, he’s still calling him that. He tosses the pillow into Leon’s lap, then spreads the blanket over him.

“Yeah, well, I want to do this! ‘Cuz if I don’t, who will? And don’t say yourself, because you’ve clearly not been doing so.”

“Touché.”

Leon glances once more at the remote, then decides against it, putting the pillow underneath himself and sprawling across the couch once more. Hop tilts his head at the other.

“You can turn the telly on if you want.”

“Nah. Probably better if I don’t. I was just curious what’s on the news.”

Obviously the only thing the news would be covering at the moment is the Championship match, Hop wants to say, but he supposes that’s the point. Every single detail of the event has probably spread like wildfire by now, from how many Pokémon were left on each side to Leon seemingly disappearing the moment the battle concluded. He’s certain his brother is probably fretting about what the public has to say on the matter, when he really shouldn’t. His health comes first and foremostly.

Speaking of, he walks over to the kitchen and begins searching through Leon’s cabinets. He eventually finds what he was looking for, taking a glass from the shelf and filling it with water. As much as he would like to watch Leon drink it right now, he can’t exactly force him to hydrate, so he just leaves it on the coffee table in front of the couch instead.

“Heh,” Leon lets out a chuckle, “This sort of reminds me of when you were little and I’d take care of you. Do you remember that?”

Hop looks to the other and racks his brain for what he’s talking about. It sounds like he has a specific scenario in mind, but he can’t recall any where Leon had been taking care of him like how he’s doing now.

“Was this before or after you became Champion?”

“Before. You’d caught the flu, which freaked Mum out. You were also pretty young at the time, so I suppose it makes sense you don’t remember.”

He does not, in fact, remember having gotten sick at that age. He’s a bit miffed about this as well, mostly because he already gets so few moments with his brother. Knowing there was a period of time they shared that he can’t recall is bothersome to him. Though, now that Leon isn’t Champion anymore, maybe they can finally make up for lost time.

Once he’s recovered from his injuries, that is.

“Guess so. By the way, you need anything else?”

The older of them lets out a noise that's halfway between a hum and a sigh. He seems to think about it for a moment, then answers.

“Some pain medicine would be nice. There should be an orange bottle behind the bathroom mirror. It’s the door across from the bedroom.”

“You got it!”

Hop is about to take off down the hall once more, but a tug on the hem of his jacket causes him to freeze. He looks towards the couch. Leon has a handful of the cream colored fur of his jacket, which he lets go of once he’s gotten Hop’s attention. Despite being the one to initiate, the ex-Champion hesitates.

“... I wanted to say thanks. For everything.”

He stares at his brother for a moment before smiling.

“Of course, Lee. Anytime.”

[lorei-writes]

Letters: From: Me ; To: You

(And Some of What Happened In-Between)

Clavis Lelouch & OC (OC Chart: Laura) Summary: A letter sent out in desperation, and how -- or whether -- it manages to rescue Laura from an arranged marriage. Word Count Estimate: 400 Other chapters: Masterlist

Content Warnings: none

—

My “Oh-so-dearly-in-love-with-me” Klara,

It seems you misunderstand: I have been raised to be a gentleman, and as a gentleman, I offer help to those in need without expecting any sort of payment in return. By the time you are free, you will have fallen for me organically, although I bet you have already done so and are just cutely shy to admit it, even to yourself.

Would an amethyst be to your taste? Silver or gold?

My overwhelming charm aside, I have already begun the necessary preparations. I will explain the plan to you soon, but before you feel compelled to agree – and for certain undisclosed reasons you will be made to understand by the time you are to reply to this letter, I am sure you will be – I feel obliged to say: the exit out of this situation will prove far more dangerous than simply marrying Dönhoff and faking headaches until his shell cracks AKA he kicks the bucket. You would inherit quite a fortune then as well.

Do not despair. I am not backing down. You, on the other hand, must also be absolutely certain you want to risk your life. If you do decide to stay and marry old Dönhoff, I can promise you, nobody will learn of our little affair.

However, if you decide to commit to this act of heinous villainy together with me, you will most definitely lose all ties that bind your to your family. You will not be able to ever return to Obsidian, at least not with your head attached. Additionally, an even greater threat will await you in Rhodolite. The gossip may have it that the brutal beast has dulled its claws, but a certain twinkling star is yet to soften up my older brother enough for him not to interfere. If that could ever even happen, that is. For all I know, he may already be aware of our scheme; Chev is too much of a monster for anything to be hidden away from him.

Think it through. Thoroughly. You can ask Cyran for advice, he surely is so lonely and bored now that he has not seen a proper pit trap for around a month. Perhaps I should surprise him with a designer Cyran-oriented trap once he returns?

I am afraid I cannot give you too much time, though – write me before the week ends. Any further delay could put you in harms way.

We shall meet soon, so until then. Try not to miss me too much, although I am aware I am asking for the impossible.

The most twisted gentleman among the trap architects, brother to a beast but not a beast himself,

Clavis Lelouch

[tiredsalaryman]

11/22 (Wed) TS blog #1

Good morning. 🌞

This is Tired Salaryman Tim.🕴

Welcome to my journal series where I talk about points of the day related to my fortune. Sometimes, I may say beyond that.

Today's ranking: 12

When it comes to love, I seem inexperienced. I have been told before I hold myself in a very practical and rational manner. Because of this, I am also told I can be very cold and intimidating. These are qualities I do not think are so bad. My personality gives me peace and space from others who may think to try funny business. 😑

I think I love people affably and show kindness and respect to everyone at first, then whoever decides to reciprocate will realize I can offer more. There is no big science to it for me. 🤔

My best friend and I were speaking via SNS last night. I am sick with a cold, so my cognition is not very good. I think they were joking? 🤡

For this season, they are in a lovey dovey phase, and it is strange to be on the receiving end sometimes. 🤨

I am uncomfortable being referred to as "baby" or "daddy." I almost said something I would regret when they started calling me pet names. Feelings can be volatile if one does not concentrate but I remembered my fortune advice in time.

I erased my message and made my request to them in a comedic manner instead. "Do I look like I enjoy taking care of infants? Also, I am an old man. Don't call me baby or daddy. Call me grandpa." 👴

I am setting my boundaries as an old man that I do not want to be anyone's father. Ocassionally, I am called in for babysitting services, and that is as much as I am willing to do. 🤷

I said, it is strange to be called daddy anyway. My mother is still alive and my father is deceased. I love them both dearly and I have no desire to be called anything similarly, especially from someone only a few years younger than me. 😩

I have read manhwa and seen media where this can be sexy or like a meme joke, but I do not think it is personally to my taste. I want to vomit a little every time someone thinks I should have paternal responsibility in a relationship. I just want to take care of my friends without the romantic affiliation, thank you. 💔

Moving to the other portion of my fortune. Cleaning the kitchen is my task for today. Even if I am sick, I should be able to do as much as I can. I had moved to a new apartment recently and I use the kitchen a lot. Because of this, it has also become a dumping ground... 💀

There are boxes everywhere, clean dishes drying on the counter and dishwasher, the floors need to be swept and mopped, and miscellaneous items not for the kitchen should be put away. 🗑

I am slowly starting to lose my mind from the disorderly mess. Hopefully, will save myself in time. 🫠

【Credits】

Illustration by Amy Wong @tofu.pants on Instagram.

They offered to illustrate some entries of my blog and I am grateful for their support. We have formed a mutually accountable relationship in that they wish to draw daily and I wish to journal daily.

I am hoping to illustrate my own works as well and recently purchased a graphics tablet to start me on this habit of daily doodles.

I will not promise to be consistent because life just makes me tired sometimes.

TS Radio random song of the day:

[ashcroft-writes]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @bluedaddysgirl! Thank you; this fits well into my master plan of attempting to be more alive online hahaha @unmarked-credits @xinambercladx @sinisterexaggerator Not obligated to do this, I'm just trying to be social and thought it may be fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 5 🥹 I am baby compared to some people I see answering these

2. What's your total A03 word count? 512943 words!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Actively, right this second, Star Wars! I do have a huge Fallout 4 WIP that hasn’t been updated in a hot second, but I love it dearly and do wish to finish it one day.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Idiot’s Array

Rot, Dust, and Steel

Strong Hands

Homeworld Elegy

We can pretend this last one doesn’t exist lolololol (It’s the .hack Penguin Fic of DOOM, a reposting of my very first fic from the twee LULZ SO RANDOM era of my high school days. I like to have my history all together, and I own it, but goodness no one should read that.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Oh I desperately wish I still was. I used to, every last one, and I still read and treasure all the ones I do receive. Over the last couple years, my life kept getting quite… upended, however… and I my well of communication energy just… died… and this is also partially because I find it physically impossible to just say “wow thank u <3” in a few seconds; I usually get really into it! Still, the kindness and joy folks have left for me has been so deeply appreciated and cherished. I can’t help but want to go back and respond eventually (“Hi! I know this was left like, two years ago, but you pretty much gave me the gift of sunshine then, sorry this is so late <3”) Hopefully it won’t be weird.

(If you’re reading this and you are, in fact one of those whose delightful comment I have not responded to, hi, I see you, and thank you so much for the gift of sunshine)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ooo. So though my stories definitely contain some angst, they usually end in very hopeful ways. Even the one about the collective grief for a destroyed planet 😆 Especially that one!! The future yet contains light! So perhaps the answer’s actually in a story that I never finished and isn’t available anymore.

I had this series I was writing when I was a lot younger set in Sonic the Hedgehog. It has this character who had been a villain switching sides and helping the Sonic group win their fight, and thusly secure his own pardon and freedom, a redemption sort of story. And it ended pretty sunshine and roses for most! But for the POV character, he never really would belong among the victors. They gave him a ship and his freedom in payment, and he took it and left for a world he didn’t know, off to try and find some new life on horizons where he would be either at best a stranger, and at worst hated for what he’d done in the past. I suppose there is still some hope in all that! New chances, new beginnings. Like I said, I’m a hopeful writer. But it was the most uncertain and melancholy of the lot, for sure.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? HA, almost certainly The Idiot’s Array; there’s a frickin’ romantic poem, a hopeful promise to see each other again, healing and reconciliation, and a man who flings himself out of the window dramatically in lieu of saying goodbye. What more could you want, I ask you.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Fortunately, no!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sure have! The Gunslinger’s Paean series has been my first public work with a couple hot and heavy sort of scenes, mostly because at the time I was dying to write Cad Bane, who is an extremely blunt and direct character, told initially from the POV of someone bringing what he feels are shameful parts of himself into the light. Thematically, it just didn’t feel the sort of story in which smut should be anything less than on the page in every last detail where it had to be unpacked. I guess you could say they were the sort of scenes meant to reveal the changes in the characters because smut scenes are vulnerable scenes.

But judging how I’m talking about it, you might detect I’m running some obscure ace algorithm in my internal software that demands a very particular ratio of what it deems smut too unprompted 😆 AND THAT WOULD BE RIGHT AHHHH. I don’t write a lot of pwp, though I’m known to partake (and I hope this even answers the question lmao)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Not really my thing, but it sure is a valid lifestyle!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge, unless you count the LLM-training data scraping of Ao3, which I suppose doesn’t precisely qualify as theft in the classical sense 😅 I do wonder if a shard of my characterizations will some day jump out at people using those chatbots. Weird to think about.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have not. I think I’d like to try some day, however, if I vibed with someone hard enough on an idea!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Hilariously, I don’t even write for this fandom I'm about to name. I HAVE NOT READ A SINGLE FIC AND THE FANART ARRIVES ON MY DASH WITH NO ACTIVE SEEKING. But Good Omens really went off with Crowley/Aziraphale! Gives me SO many warm fuzzies. What a great queer yearning story.

And I know, I know, that’s weird, someone probably expected me to say something I read/write for at the very least, but the character ships I adore exploring creatively genuinely exist on such a different brain circuit for me than the “fave ship I cheer for like a sports team” heh, though they are in no way lesser.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? You know that Sonic the Hedgehog series I mentioned earlier? That. My remaining mojo-energy in the Sonic-verse is just not powerful enough to overcome the inertia of revisiting something YEARS AND YEARS gone, and I have too many works other works open and waiting, but I’ll always look on that unfinished beast with affection. Yes that means all other stories I haven’t updated in a long time I still intend to finish 🥺 Please don’t throw rocks 🥺

16. What are your writing strengths? I’ve been told it’s my worldbuilding and characterization! And boy howdy do I love doing those things, so I’m really happy I’m doing it well!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I get real maudlin sometimes in my early drafts! A LOT of characters on my pages work through a complex array of feelings and internal monologues before I can wrest a moving story from their emotional morass. You would not believe how much I tone down in editing. And oh god I write a lot of words. Somehow my chapters are now often 9-12k words and I just can’t stop myself; they feel complete when they’re complete 😭

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I dislike it usually, because in my work I’m often trying to immerse my (sometimes monolingual) reader in the headspace of another person… and if that’s the case, and my character runs into someone speaking a different language than the story's overall text, there’s usually three outcomes:

The POV character understands the other language fully. In that case, the reader should likewise feel the understanding is effortless, or they might get jarred out of the flow of words and character headspace. So I just write the translation of the words, i.e.

“I really wish I had a pet raccoon,” said Talky McTalkerson in soft-spoken French.

The POV character does not understand the other language at all. In that case, why would they mentally be able to give us a perfect transcription of the foreign words for readers? In that case, the character experience really is:

The man was saying something in a bashful sort of French—at least I think it was French. But I didn’t understand.

The POV character partially understands the other language. In that case, the translation struggle might even be part of the reader experience, and remains immersive, i.e.

“I really wish I had a…” Talky McTalkerson was saying in his quiet French, my poor student-learner brain straining to pick apart the mumbled crumbs. Something about… laveur? Washing? “I really wish I had a new washer too,” I tried in solidarity, and he looked at me as if I was an idiot.

(Note, I do not speak French and picked it out of a hat for examples <3)

Anyway, I think some exceptions can be made for words that don’t have precise translations! I like to do that with some of my alien language stuff if talking about the words deepens some understanding about the culture and people who speak them.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Pokemon, when I was a wee sprout in elementary school. It was never published lol but it was so incredibly dramatic and terrible. And it rocked

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? I will never get over Homeworld Elegy. It gets a little less attention than its predecessor—ah, such is the fate of all sequels, especially when it's not quite the same sort of story! But it means just as much to me. I don’t know how I pulled it out of my brain in six months, though I think I was processing a lot at the time, and looking back at the themes, hoo, it makes sense. I’ve never written something quite that complex before, the multiple POVs, all the wholesale alien culture invention, the making use of a past and present timeline, and the endless little circles connecting the two right up until the end. That and bringing in a stable of OCs and hoping people would like them… and I think it all worked even better than I’d hoped. I had no idea if I could stick the landing writing it, but I’m so proud of how it turned out and the things it’s inspired in some of my readers since.

Here’s hoping the next thing I publish will continue the trend of being my new favorite thing!! I’m really excited about literally everything I’m working on!!!

[mysteriawrites]

Hi! Could I get a matchup for Attack on titan, Twisted Wonderland and My hero academia, please? -Pronouns: Any -Sexuality: Bisexual -Zodiac/MBTI: Scorpio, INFP -Appearance: I have short and curly dark brown hair, the eyes of the same colour, pale skin, hooked nose and I'm tall 5'8". I'm overweight. -Personality: I am very shy, I always try to be nice to everyone, and I am very reserved at first. Once you get to know me I become a great joker, with a great sense of dark humor. I always try to take care of my loved ones, although I have a hard time telling them how much I care about them. -Likes and Dislikes: I really like romance books and likewise horror books. I like flowers, cats and pretty things. I also have a passion for gothic. I don't like arrogant people, cheaters and people who tease others. I hate wasps and any insect that causes pain when it stings. -Hobbies: Writing, reading, cooking, reading tarot, watching anime and playing videogames. Thank you in advance!

Hello thx for the request! If possible can you send me separate asks for your other fandoms it makes things easier on me thank you (gonna do twisted wonderland cause i haven’t gotten a twst one yet). Anyway DRUM ROLL PLEASE!!!

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

SILVER!!!

I think you and Silver would be good together. You guys may not have a lot of hobbies in common, but you two have a nice understanding of each other where you can just enjoy each other’s company in silence.

When you fell into twisted wonderland you made a lot of new friends. Of course, you had the first-year trio, you were friends with the dorm leaders, and you had your faithful companion grim. However, you were the closest with one particularly sleepy student.

You and Silver became best friends over your similar personality and likes such as romance, flowers, and animals (he reminds you of a sleepy cat).

Sometimes you’ll give tarot readings to your friends as a past time. One day you decided to do a reading for Silver. (I'm sorry ik nothing about tarot but let’s pretend twst tarot works a bit differently).

As you read his fortune you notice something quite interesting. In your reading you discovered the identity of his future lover. The person was a beautiful and kindhearted royal from a faraway land who would come and sweep him off his feet. Sadly, that person was not you...

Despite being devastated, you wanted to be a good friend and support Silver, so you plastered on the best smile you could and told him your findings. His expression was unreadable, but he thanked you nonetheless.

Since then, your feelings for him have grown stronger day by day. The longing, the jealousy, and the sorrow for a love out of your reach became ever consuming. You began to distance yourself from him to for you believed it was the best way to support him without your feelings clouding your judgement.

Weeks pass and the distance between you two grew ever greater. You missed him dearly and he missed you too, but he decided it was best to let you have your space and just be there for you when you were ready.

Fortunately for both of you, a certain bat dad was not going to let this silence last any longer.

You got a note in your locker (do they have lockers at Night Raven College?) from Lillia, saying he had an urgent matter to discuss with you after school. So, you went to meet up with him in his dorm room as planned only to come face to face with Silver. If that wasn't confusing and awkward enough, as soon as you stepped fully into the room the door closed and locked shut behind you.

It seems that Lillia had decided to take his own spin on the 7 minuets in heaven idea by magically locking you and Silver in a room together to force you to talk. A very cheeky idea as expected of Lillia.

So, after a long period of silence, you two finally started to talk. After the tension in the air was cleared you finally revealed you reasoning for breaking away from him. How you only wanted what was best for him.

After you reveal he takes you hand in yours. He tells you that he appreciates you wanting what's best for him, but only he gets to decide that. And that he has decided that you are the only person for him. You were the most beautiful and kindhearted royal he had ever met. That was when the answer finally fell into place.

You were indeed the beautiful kindhearted royal in the reading. With the revelation you gave him a big, deep, heartfelt kiss on the lips. Suddenly you two were free from the dorm and in a ballroom wearing the finest clothes and danced the night away (because Disney magic and stuff).