#me and that man in his late 40s are basically twins

[mittenhater]

cool. cool cool cool.

[funnyscienceman]

Ok but like WHYY did ubisoft have to insist with the one game a year thing. Why couldnt they let syndicate cook in the oven more. Why do they have THREE queer men in the same game and not do ANYTHING with them!!!

Like yes, yes, i get it, i get wanting to for once make a story in a fun setting where you dont have to think about real life prejudice and hardships and bigotry and just have characters be silly, i love that too. I do! And id be all for that if doing it just didnt waste a potentially banger study of the characters and the setting ;-;

Like god i go back and forth on this constantly. I already love syndicate as it is, i think it's fun and neat and the happy gaming vibes about it is core to its identity, it's just that simultaneous to that, three queer men in the same game!!!

like GOD im still miffed that there are only, like, two or three fics about this, and so far i havent found any discussion or anything of it, but oh my god how different all three of them are from each other. You could do so much just with having any of them in the same room — and they are often enough in the same room (jacob and either ned or roth at a time), but nothing's really done there!

we have roth who sees fcking nothing wrong with getting kids hurt, because he doesnt actually care about anyone or anything, he's just some fucking joker wannabe that yeah, sure, probably has some anger and resentment at society because he's a gay man in his 40s or 50s by now, but jesus fucking christ retaliation against homophobia does not equal rampant needless unproductive violence roth!!!

then we have ned, who — i mean he doesnt ever give his opinion on whether kids deserve any respect or anything but considering in every other department he's pretty much just Some Guy, it'd be fair to assume he also has the extremely average stance of 'dont fcking kill kids and dont blow up buildings for no good reason??' in the grand scheme of the templar-assassin stuff he has just about as much relevance as roth: roth was just the boss of the blighters, ned just finances the fryes by virtue of them working for him. He probably doesnt even know about it, and tbh i dont even know if he'd care??? But like i imagine roth doesnt care in the way of 'as long as you dont get in my way, it's all set dressing,' ned i imagine would be smth like 'are yall fckin serious? are you kidding me rn? i have to skirt around transphobes on a daily basis, now youre telling me there's a secret society on top of that with even worse ideas?? What the fuck???'

like uh, not caring about it as in 'I cant deal with this rn i need a nap'

HE'S JUST AN EXTREMELY REGULAR PERSON (besides the crime lord stuff) IS WHAT IM GETTING AT.

then there's jacob, who's the youngest out of these guys btw, fckin 21 good god he should be at the club not trying to disassemble systemic oppression— ANYWAY

(ned is 27-28 over the course of the game, btw; we dont actually have a solid timeline for anything, just the year, so tbh jacob could've also been 20 and not 21 yet during the game. both he and ned have late birthdays, just a month apart)

so, yknow, being extremely early 20-somethings, both frye twins just take a train to london completely on impulse and dive headfirst into undoing the templars that've had an iron grip over the city for basically as long as they've been alive, yknow, as you do; and throughout the game jacob has to deal with goddamn daddy issues and fighting with his sister and insecurity and trying to be an assassin — and that's a lot for a guy to handle!! Especially one who's still just a couple years out of being a teenager! That's a fucking lot and if the devs are right, then he hasnt even realized that he's bi yet! Not until roth fucking kisses him while jacob's got a knife in his throat for the aforementioned indiscriminate, unproductive violence!

i mean, granted, yeah there were gay undertones during sequence 8, but i have to admit my bias here because i honest to god cannot take those missions seriously. Roth fucking preaches this and that about freedom and whatnot and then im plopped into the mission and it's the most rule-heavy shit ive ever seen in my short life as an assassin's creed player. Like what the hell, those missions were atrocious. Apprently i need to detonate the bombs a specific way, i cant just shoot them from a distance, i have to hold a button crouching down right next to the bombs, and then run the hell away! I have to avoid THIS and THAT while kidnapping xyz! Like there's freddy's apprehend missions and then there's THIS.

at least with ned's missions all you have to do is get the shit and go… i'm still salty that ubisoft cut his questline because they fucking insist on releasing a game a year >:((

my battery's dying. All these guys are different flavors of queer on top of just being pretty different and pretty similar in various ways, and there's just… barely anything about it. Ned especially, since he's just a quest giver whose screentime totals to, like, 2-5 minutes. I just wish they really did more with the setting; not just the queerness and these three specifically, but like, evie, henry, the class conflict — like there are shreds of it, seeds, but there's not much before you kill starrick and credits roll :((

idk. im just gonna refresh ao3 again cjemddjekjx

[kozumesphone]

hi! your writing style is so cute!!! <3

could I request for a jason x sister!reader fluff? maybe a holiday theme oneshot at camp ft. leo's silly little dialogues of course 💞

masterlist

💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ LIKE WE JUST MET .ᐟ

⤷ platonic!multiple x daughter of zeus!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅

ᝰ. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 . . . percy jackson and heroes of olympus

ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 . . . jason grace’s sister!reader and tooth rotting fluff ft. jason (ofc), leo and his adorable dialogues, just fluff basically, christmas party, and a fun day out for the demigods. ft. y/n saying a few words here and there in french, princess passenger!leo again <3, sugar crashed!leo, matching lightning mcqueen pjs for y/n & jace. alsoalso jason’s weatherman nickname inspired by this post.

ᝰ. 𝐤𝐞𝐲 . . . y/n — your name | n/n — nickname | r/n — random name | ‘merde’: shit | ‘mon amour’: my love

ᝰ. 𝐰𝐜 . . . 1.5k

ᝰ. 𝐚/𝐧 . . . uhajshwkjs this request is everything! tysm anon, bc I miss winter sm 😭 this was the perfect way to get over my summer depression fr <3 hope you like it!

“rise and shine, my lovely buffalos!” clarisse’s voice rang loudly.

“stop, no,” jason groaned from the opposite side of the room, grabbing a pillow to cover his ears.

“I love you, but it’s christmas eve. let us sleep in, clarisse! even jace wants to!” I yelled.

I cracked an eye open, and sunlight filtered through the now-open door as clarisse walked in, her hand intertwined with a sleepy chris’.

“oh, the light, i’m going to go blind, merde-” I rambled and picked up a pillow, throwing it in the general area of the cabin’s door. a thwap sounded as clarisse caught the pillow before it maimed chris.

“man, wake up, where’s the christmas cheer, yeah?” chris said, extremely unenthusiastically.

“you’re half asleep, dude. let me sleep,” jason mumbled.

“yeah, we all know clarisse dragged you here-” suddenly, my blanket was yanked off my body as I muttered a string of curse words. “nooooooo, my lovely and warm blanket-”

a squeal sounded from jason’s side of the room and I sat up on my bed to see him blanket-less as well. satisfied that I wasn’t the only one who was being annoyed by the two lovebirds, I grinned.

“you know, this is the first time you didn’t wake up the second your clock hit 5 in the morning,” I chuckled at jason.

before he could reply, clarisse started ordering us around. “get out of your pyjamas and come around to the dining pavillion for breakfast at 8.”

she glanced at jason’s and mine matching lightning mcqueen pyjamas, and grinned. chris and her walked out, leaving the door open.

“at least close the door,” I mumbled.

we disappeared into our sides of the room to get ready, and met up outside the cabin in 20 minutes.

it was absolutely serene to wake up to an almost-empty camp as it was snowing, with the harpies asleep. a butterfly landed on jason’s nose and I smiled. in that moment, it felt like nothing could disrupt the harmony of the world-

“HEY, WEATHERMAN! oh hello, lovely n/n,” leo skidded to a stop in front of us and grinned.

“morning, princess,” I said. leo and I did our handshake, as jason was still preoccupied with the butterfly.

“dude, how did you not wake up at 5? did your alarm malfunction? I can fix it for ya,” leo commented, looking at jason.

“what, i’m not allowed to wake up late?” he rolled his eyes, and started walking towards breakfast. leo and I followed him, talking about our prank war against the stoll twins and the general ongoings of camp half-blood.

we all take our seats at the hermes cabin’s table since chiron decided we should just sit at the same table because we’re only 40-ish campers, as compared to the usual 150 or more.

jason talks with clarisse for a while as leo and I engage in conversation with connor and travis, as we wait for the food. when everything we could ever want for breakfast turns up in our plates, we collectively get up and make a line to offer some food to the gods. I drop in a portion of my french fries and some vegetables I didn’t want.

“good luck receiving burnt vegetables, my dudes on olympus,” leo said, looking at me dropping some broccoli into the pyre, making me roll my eyes.

as we ate, chiron walked trotted in and took his seat at the head of the table, as mr. d echoed his actions on the other side.

“merry christmas eve, kids,” chiron said. “we have an announcement to make.”

we stopped talking between ourselves and turned towards chiron.

“as you all know, most of our campers have left camp to visit their families for the winter,” chiron said, as we all nodded along.

“and in lieu of the small number of you left in camp, we wanted to let you know that we are giving you pesky kids permission to have a ‘party’ for christmas.” mr. d continued. “and as a bonus, for gods know what reason, chiron asked to send any four of you to the mortal world to buy some decorations, or whatever, and anything else you might need.”

chatter broke out at the news of camp’s first ever christmas party.

“no alcoholic drinks will be permitted, unfortunately,” mr. d remarked sadly, which no one bothered to hear.

by the end of breakfast, we were all talking about the things we’d need for the party, and I began making a list. after an hour of begging, chiron decided that jason, leo, travis, and I (or as mr. d called us: “lee, jackson, tyler, and r/n”) could go to buy decorations and food ingredients. he gave us a few american dollars, and told us to eat something with any remaining money. he also pulled jason and me aside, asking us to look after the other two.

we piled into the camp car with travis driving, and leo beside him. ever the passenger princess, he put on his sunglasses, turned up the radio, and started singing to some pop music.

in about half an hour, we reached a store called 7-eleven (“but why would you name a shopping centre in numbers?” leo had asked us the last time we’d been there) and walked into the store, the sound of the bell resonating behind us.

we split into each of the four aisles for food, use-and-throw cutlery, decorations, and board & card games.

I finished picking out the decorations first and met up with jason, who got lots of food, near the cashier.

“ooh, percy, hazel and nico would’ve loved the cocoa and marshmallows,” I said to jason, peeping into his basket.

“yeah. and frank, will and annie would’ve loved to help you put up all those streamers and everything,” he said.

I realised that it was the first time we were spending christmas without them.

“why do you guys look like someone ran over your favourite stuffed toy? it’s christmas eve, guys! cheer up!” travis said, slapping jason’s back.

leo joined us too, suddenly smacking my shoulder as well, earning himself a glare from jason.

jason and I scanned travis and leo’s baskets to make sure they didn’t get anything extra. satisfied, jason grabbed all four baskets and made small talk with the cashier about a football game till the billing finished.

“shotgun!” leo called, as soon as we got our receipt, and he ran away along with travis to get into the car. I chuckled and took two of the four bags from jason.

from the store, we drove to a cafe for some coffee and bagels before getting back to camp.

timeskip

by half past 10, the hecate, tyche, hebe, hypnos, hera, poseidon, and hephaestus cabins had all the decorations set up, while the athena, demeter, nike, iris, and hades cabins whipped up the foods. the remaining cabins (ares, apollo, artemis, zeus, hermes, nemesis, aphrodite, and dionysus) set up the various games and logs for the campfire. chiron and mr. d chopped and dragged a tree from the woods to decorate.

we began settling down in a circle around the campfire with the decorated and well-lit christmas tree to one side. the apollo kids began singing, and the hermes kids put on their own version of a musical they called ‘hamilton’.

games were played and christmas carols were sung until we felt sleepy, and the chirping of the crickets increased. I was on my fourth cup of hot chocolate (jason said it wasn’t healthy, but whatever) and fifth packet of mini marshmallows, while leo was… passed out beside me from way more than just five cups of hot chocolate and lots of candy. typical leo valdez sugar crash.

“ay, mon amour,” I laughed at him.

beside me, jason was smiling warmly at the fire. his face was glowing in the harsh light of the campfire, making him look every part thalia’s brother.

I was a few months younger than jason, but I was at camp before he stumbled in. thalia was almost like my blood sister, always taking care of me. at this moment, everything about jason reminded me of the girl I once loved like a sister.

campers’ clocks struck 12, echoing wishes of ‘merry christmas’ throughout the camp.

“merry christmas, n/n,” jason smiled down at me.

“merry christmas, weatherman.”

“N/N!!! mErrY cHriStMaaaaaaaS!-“

“merry christmas, your honour, bad boy supreme,” I laughed at leo.

getting up from our spots on the mattresses around the campfire, everyone made their way into the hermes cabin. they had the biggest beds, and we’d all gotten our cabin’s heaters into one for more warmth.

the stolls fell onto the bed first, followed by around 10-12 campers, jason, leo and me. everyone readjusted themselves to comfort, and we were all falling asleep.

in the morning, I wouldn’t have anyone to share a miraculous christmas kiss with, but I will have many hugs to give to the boys I loved like my own brothers, and that would be enough for me any day.

bonus!

“i’m not crying, you are,” chiron said, wiping a stray tear away, looking at the huge cuddle pile in the hermes cabin. “my babies!”

mr. d scoffed at him.

taglist — @sunnitheapollokid @puffoz @canonfeminine @taytayluvr @urmomabby @cinemaconrad @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @jgracie @cherigall @percabethluvr @pjoverseluvr @maybxlle

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[awriternamedart]

Akrasia has met its end, so heres a quick FAQ with a few questions you might have about it !! (Minor spoilers if you havent finished the ficc below the break!)

What does Akrasia mean, and why did you name the fic that?

Akrasia - The state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.

I came across the word while doomscrolling pinterest while I was writing Akrasia. Fun fact, the original name for Akrasia was actually Ice Shards, Mask Fragments. But Akrasia as a word stuck with me, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the word really suited Sampo in the fic, and his constant back and forth with himself over his feelings for Gepard. So yeah, I renamed the fic.

Was Akrasia ever going to have a happy ending?

Nope. From the very beginning, Akrasia was meant to have an ambigious/bitter ending. It felt fitting, to me at least, because of Sampos nature, and the whole angle I took with his character.

You can actually find various hints about the ending throughout the fic, mostly in Sampos dialog and thoughts. I tried (key word tried) to write him with a flighty sort of air around him, a kinda sense of doom from the start. Sampo knew what would have to happen the moment it started.

What happened after Akrasia?

Up to intepretation! Personally, I think Gepard didnt end up joining the Astral Express, instead asking them to just keep him up to date if they ran into Sampo, up until the time the epilogue happens. Reverse Serval situation, because he is honorbound and Gepard is a military man at heart. He knows where his duty lies. But like I said, its really up to you guys and what you wanna think happened.

WHERE IS LYNX ?!

So I started writing Akrasia the month of Star Rails release, (MAY 2023 TF?!), before we knew anything about Lynx. Because I didnt want to mischaracterize her, I ended up just not writing her explicitly

Will there be any more Akrasia fics?

Yes, actually! I made an Akrasia series on Ao3 for a reason. Im planning on doing a few DanCae shots to compliment the Starch7th ones already there, as well as a few side stories for the GePo/SamPard moments that were in passing in the main story. Things like missing scenes, more sexier times, and elaboration into characters I didnt really get to explore in the base story. But Akrasia itself is done and dusted. All fics pertaining to its small lil universe will be under different names.

How old is everyone in Akrasia?

I wrote and percieved Gepard and Sampo to be in their early 30s, maybe extremely late 20s. Seele and Bronya are mid 20s, Serval is mid 30s and Natasha is late 30s early 40s. As for the Trailblazers, well we know Dan Heng is probably far older then we think, Caelus and Stelle are.. weird, and March cant fucking remember. So I wrote them all witu the idea of mentally mid 20s.

Why are Stelle and Caelus in Akrasia?

cause I wanted them to be. Like, genuinely I just didnt want to choose and I wanted both Starch and DanCae so yeah. I just said their both here.

If you want the internal lore reason, the Stelleron was unstable enough that it ended up needing another vessel to contain all of its power. So Stelle and Caelus are just really weird twins, basically. They share a level of physical connection outside of looks as well, (ie, the matching scars from cocolia) but only to extreme , permanent damage. They also trade off who uses the lance and the baseball bat at their leisure.

Why are there some plot inconsistencies ?? (they bug me the author alot)

because its fanfiction /j thats not my excuse

Nah theres actually a reason for it. Akrasia originally was written to be aroind 10k words long, and clearly thats not what fucking happened.

So i ended up going back and editting alot of scenes, removing one scene entirely that actually was pretty important and i tried to make sure i caught every error but- well yeah i missed some.

If your curious about said scene, well- Remember the drunk Sampo scene? Yeah originally they had a drunk hook up and that was the main catalyst for the story. I ended up completely scrapping the scene and changing it around as it became more of a slowburn and the scene felt more and more out of place with the story i wanted to tell.

Hell in the original manuscript for the fic they never even got together, so theres that -

Will there be a sequel to Akrasia?

maybe? Im not planning to have one but the possibility is there, though im not sure what it would entale. For now, just indulge yourself in the side stories.

Do you allow fanwork ?

hell yeah mate, and this goes for anything I post on ao3. your more then welcome to draw or write stuff based on what Ive made, to take inspiration from the ideas Ive had. Writing, alt ending, art, hell playlists if you want(strangers by kenya grace is my assigned akrasia song btw). As long as you aint takin it and claimin it as yours.

[crystallinearts]

so hey guys, I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year! if you want, come be writing buddies with me! https://nanowrimo.org/participants/aj-strong

and check out my latest project, which I'm hoping will be my first published novel (if I'm able to publish it for people to read for free somewhere uwu), The Lovely Disaster Sideshow! It's a mystery, horror, adventure, historical, weird mishmash that takes place in a Victorian Era circus!

Here's the cover, and below the cut are some bullet-point details about the main characters!! Let me know what you think so far, and... well, get ready for me to do very little else throughout November XD

ABIGAIL HUGHES AND EULALIA "LALI" HUGHES

Mother and daughter protagonists

Abigail (late 20s) is missing a hand and Lali (6 years old) is unable to speak due to trauma (Abigail’s missing hand and Lali’s trauma are both from the accident which killed Abigail’s husband)

They fill the jobs of whatever needs done within the circus after joining; cooking, mending, running errands

Abigail occasionally performs with Bharata after he teaches her tricks on how to live without one hand

Lali enjoys working with Estelle and Cedar particularly, but the entire circus is protective of her as their youngest member

Native English

RINGMASTER

The circus ringleader, the master of ceremonies who runs shows and hires new workers

A friendly fellow (late 30s-early 40s) who welcomes anyone into the circus, regardless of disabilities or age, as long as they can work in some way or another

Creative in describing the sideshows to attract the attention of the public

In reality a cold, calculating bigot who is bitter toward, resentful of, and disgusted by the ‘freaks’ he employs in the circus

Native English

GWYNN

“The Eyeless Albino” visual oddity (pure white hair, no eyes)

A young man (early 20s) who is completely albino and was born without any eyes

He is entirely blind and relies on other people (most often Bharata and Siobhan) to help him around, though he’s learned to navigate most of the circus by sound as long as he has landmarks to go by; new areas confuse him until he learns the layout

His skin burns incredibly easily, meaning he often carries a parasol to block sun rays even when it’s cloudy

(His parasol also double functions as a makeshift cane) Welsh and a little English

SIOBHAN

“A Marvelous Mouth” sword swallower and fire breather

A young woman (early 30s) who is a former prostitute, leading the Ringmaster to capitalize on her relaxed gag reflex to make her into a sword swallower (and, occasionally when the shows need that extra oomph, fire breather)

Quite heavily tattooed, at least for the time period, she sports many tattoos on her arms, legs, back, and hands, as well as one on her neck; this causes many people to view her as a degenerate and adds to her ‘freakishness’ for the circus

Irish

CAIN AND ABEL

“Two-For-One Twins” visual oddity (conjoined twins)

Two young men (mid 20s) joined at the hip, they’re unable to be separated and sometimes have issues with moving around; they have separate bodies (two arms each, two legs each, separate torsos, separate heads, etc.) but their bodies are fused at the hip and doctors have all told them separation is too risky

They get along fairly well, with the occasional sibling fights, though they feel isolated even from the rest of the circus, stemming from only having had each other for most of their lives, especially given that they were the most recent additions before Abigail and Lali

Native English

ESTELLE

“Silent Angel” trapeze artist

A young woman (early 20s) who is almost entirely deaf and can only hear (barely) if someone is shouting right next to her ear, she cannot speak very well and prefers to communicate in other ways

She can’t read or write, but she’s made up her own variety of gestures (basically an individual sign language) to speak with the other circus performers, and she can read lips quite well

Short, petite, and kind… and will simply walk away from anyone who treats her or her friends cruelly

Spends hours teaching Lali her individual sign language, so that Lali can communicate even though she’s too traumatized to speak verbally

French and English

BHARATA

“One-Armed Wonder” knife thrower

A young man (late 20s) who has only one arm, and is perceived by many others as very clumsy; every household he’s worked for has set him up to fail by assigning him tasks that simply can’t be done with just one arm, leading him to find a belonging in the circus

Wanting to prove everyone wrong, he trained to do something that others thought couldn’t be done with only one arm: knife throwing… and is very good at it

He’s sympathetic toward Abigail and tries to teach her every single tip he has about how to live without one arm/hand

Indian

CEDAR

“Crystal Ball” fortune teller/palm reader/astrologist

A young nonbinary person (mid 20s) who was ostracized from society when they refused to answer to ‘she’, who ran away from home after their parents tried to beat them into conforming

No physical disability aside from dysphoria (which is obviously helped when they’re around supportive people who respect what they want to be called), and very supportive themself of the people in the circus who do have disabilities

Rather easygoing in terms of interacting with other people, they tend to simply go with the flow, but they’re also incredibly perceptive which is what makes them such a good fortune teller; while they do study palmistry, astrology, and tarot, they also employ the use of cold reading techniques (“might as well take advantage of all the gifts I have, including observation, right?”)

Native English

SALEM

“The Lizard Man” visual oddity (has X-linked ichthyosis resulting in scale-like skin)

A man (late 30s) who was cast out from society because of his strange appearance, stemming from his medical condition; people have been ‘terrified’ of his looks before, not to mention fearing that whatever he has is ‘contagious’ (despite him knowing from experience that he’s not)

Soft-spoken and gentle in general, but if one hits the right buttons he’s very capable of getting violent, particularly in defense of his friends

He has anywhere from 1-3 animals (that he’s nursing back to health) in his tent at any one time, even though he’s allergic to anything with fur… he has a soft spot for reptiles, though he adores all animals

Native English

[triviareads]

Could you suggest any books where the heroine is a widow who discovers how good sex is with a new lover?

Her Protector's Pleasure by Grace Callaway: She's a lady, he's a cop; what's really great here (apart from Ambrose basically pouncing on Marianne like every 10 seconds) is that because Ambrose knows Marianne's husband was shitty and abusive towards her, he makes sure to check in with her during sex (specifically before a blowjob I believe, because Marianne's late husband forced her to perform them).

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway: Pippa's late husband was another shitty man who shamed her for seeking pleasure during sex, so when Pippa gets with Cull (The Prince of Larks lolol), she's finally able to be fearless in her sexuality (so fearless that they use the first sex swing ever invented... at least I'd like to think).

The Viper by Monica McCarty: Bella's husband dies midway though the book from what I remember, definitely after she's met the hero Lachlan. They don't get off to a good start; they both have immense trauma they're dealing with (Bella's husband was abusive and they had huge political differences) but when her and Lachlan do get together, it's probably some of the sex scenes in the Highland Guard series.

The Recruit by Monica McCarty: Mary is the widow of a philandering traitor when she comes across Kenneth (Kenneth! who knew a hero named Kenneth would do it for me!) having sex with another woman— truly one of the great historical romance voyeur scenes, and Ken has excellent follow-through with Mary too.

Wicked Again by Kathleen Ayers: Marissa has been widowed thrice and she's had lovers before the hero, but she chose purposefully dull "age-appropriate" men (she's 49) before the hero Haddon, who's 40 and fabulous in bed (the book starts with them having sex, which made me very happy).

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera: Similar to Wicked Again, Cora has had relationships with other women since she was widowed, but sex with Manuela, who bargains with Cora to to take her to all the lesbian haunts in Paris in exchange for her land, is a *revelation*.

The Duchess in His Bed by Lorraine Heath: Aiden is the owner of a sex club and rumored to be a great lover, and Selena is 100% trying to take advantage of that... so she can get pregnant and pass the baby off as her recently-deceased husband's child. Classic bonkers Lorraine plot, and it WORKS.

Between the Devil and Desire by Lorraine Heath: Classic fire-meets-ice; Jack is a former street urchin turned gentlemen's club owner, and Olivia is a widowed duchess (her husband was much older) and Jack is named as Olivia's son's guardian so now they need to live together.

The Earl Takes All by Lorraine Heath: So uh, the heroine is not aware that the man she's sleeping with is not her husband, but rather, his identical twin as the husband died in a gorilla attack but, the sex has gotten way better since her "husband" came home, and he's a lot more jacked.

Lost in Your Arms by Christina Dodd: Another instance where her estranged "husband" is recovering from his injuries, and is suddenly giving wayyyy better sex than he ever did before, and is also way taller and jacked...

The Scandal of it All by Sophie Jordan: Graciela's first husband was a cheater and called her "cold" in bed, and now she finds herself inconveniently attracted to her step-son's best friend (who is younger! le gasp!). Colin's always had a crush on her and his vibe is very "I'm not a boy anymore; I'm a MAN".

Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night by Stacy Reid: Georgiana's first husband came to her "the third week of every month for three years" so Rhys is understandably a revelation for her sex-wise, being the bit o' rough hero that he is.

The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt: She's a widow and the hero's secretary, and decides to disguise herself as a prostitute to have sex with him. I'll never stop recommending this book because the sex scenes in this one are that great.

Thief of Shadows by Elizabeth Hoyt: This one has an older, more experienced widow and he's a virgin(!!!!!) so like, yes Isabel is surprised by how good the sex is (hell she cries at some point), but also, Winter is wayyyy more shook.

I know Scandalous Desires by Elizabeth Hoyt is another good widow romance but I've yet to get around to reading it (rereading it? honestly, 2020 is a fever dream).

Cold-Hearted Rake by Lisa Kleypas: Kathleen's (abusive alcoholic) husband of three days dies and the new heir to the earldom, Devon, arrives to take charge and they immediately antagonize one another even as as he's chasing after her and dragging her into carriages and stuff.

Devil's Daughter by Lisa Kleypas: Kind of the opposite of Cold-Hearted Rake; Phoebe's late husband was sweet but very ill all the time before he passed away, so a lot of the plot is Phoebe being afraid to move on, especially with a more unorthodox, forward-thinking, and comparatively vigorous man like West.

The Harlot Countess Joanna Shupe: Simon and Maggie kinda had a Thing back in the day, but then Maggie was compromised and forced to marry an older man and now the two of them have hella beef, BUT their chemistry is amazing and the voyeurism scene might be tied with the aforementioned Kenneth/Mary scene.

From the VIllian I'd Like To F... anthology:

Seven Sinful Nights by Nicola Davidson: Estelle is a recently widowed duchess who's sold off to Blake, a gambling hell owner, to pay off her BIL's debts and is thrown in the deep end of exhibitionism, voyeurism, and sex toys galore.

Lady Viper and the Bastard by Eva Leigh: This is a cusp rec for me because Violet has been widowed for a while and I think she's had good sex, BUT obviously none are on the level of the chemistry she shares with Ian (and their shared propensity for excellent roleplaying is unmatched).

I was gonna include The Conquering of Tate the Pius by Sierra Simone but I think Adelais has had fulfilling sex before she met Tate lol... but would absolutely recommend.

Erotic Romance:

His Countess by S.M. LaViolette: Another case of a prim and proper widow falling for her late husband's slutty disreputable heir; Gideon allows Alys to explore all her fantasies (bondage, having sex with other men, etc.) after their marriage of convenance.

Passion by Lisa Valdez: This book literally starts with Passion's post-mourning sexual awakening when she's groped by a stranger in the Crystal Palace, and they have lots and lots of cervix-hitting sex. Don't worry, it's better-written than the way I'm describing it.

Modern:

Wrong to Need You by Alisha Rai: He's her late husband's brother, and he's back in town and she nearly has sex with him without realizing who he is; a fabulous start and there's sooooo much guilt and angst.

Sin and Ink by Naima Simone: Another late-husband's-brother book, more angst and guilt with a side of stomach licking(?) and really good sex.

[rivaindaisies]

some dragon age music headcanons bc it’s fucking late and i feel extra neurodivergent today

origins

morrigan is such a fucking edge lord in this game, she absolutely gatekeeps what she listens to but it’s pretty basic alternative stuff. arctic monkeys but only am and fsvorite worst nightmare, mindless self indulgence, a lot of joy division (she absolutely is the type of person to go up to someone in an unknown pleasures shirt and ask them to name three songs), some nirvana, pixies, etc. her favorite songs are arabella by arctic monkeys, back to the old house by the smiths, and probably mascara by deftones. she doesn’t listen to metal a lot but has a few deftones and lamb of god songs on her playlists.

leliana is trying to recreate her life in this game. she’s running from a lot of things, but also beginning to reflect. since she hasn’t been through as much as she has in inquisition, her music taste is much more relaxed here. i think she’d love dreamy shit, like the cocteau twins and the sundays especially. she listens to some lana del rey as well, mostly just nfr/lust for life. there’s a band called another sunny day i feel like she’d fuck with a lot too. her favorite songs are goodbye by the sundays and white mustang by lana del rey.

alistair listens to top 40 and nothing else

origins is my least favorite so i can’t think of much else for companions, i have the lowest time played as well so 🤷‍♂️

da2

varric has the most dad music taste you could imagine. all classic rock, nothing else. i can very clearly imagine him cruising around blasting ac/dc and kiss.

fenris doesn’t listen to music, he just sort of goes along with what the others are playing. he likes slower songs, they help calm him down. if romanced, he ends up listening to the songs hawke likes and developing the same music taste as them and i think it would be a connection for them

isabela has some rare genuine self awareness in the music she listens to. she listens to lana del rey and marina and the diamonds, and that’s about it. her favorite albums from lana are born to die, paradise, and ultraviolence. her favorite marina albums are electra heart and froot. her favorite songs are i’m a ruin/rootless by marina, ride by ldr, and the other woman by ldr as well. hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have is the only later lana song she like LOVES. basically 2014 tumblr taste but oh well

merrill listens to mainly instrumental music, either classical guitar or orchestral music. it helps her focus and calms her down quite a bit. she also really enjoys folk music. some of her favorite albums are shaken by a low sound by crooked still, someday we will foresee obstacles by syd matters, and dear wormwood by the oh hellos.

anders is also an angst fest. he listens to a lot of the smiths, mother mother (and hes very particular about being a “real fan” and knowing them before they blew up) and some nu metal as well. his favorite songs are this charming man by the smiths, 7 words by deftones, and you should all be murdered by another sunny day. calm me down by mother mother as well.

aveline listens to ed sheeran and coldplay exclusively. i don’t know why i feel this way but i do and im gonna leave it at that

inquisition

leliana has been through so much over the last ten years, and the music she listens to reflects that. she doesn’t listen to music much anymore, but has a couple songs that she listens to. her taste is a lot heavier now- deftones, lamb of god, and some death metal as well. no specific bands, just whatever is the loudest and heaviest. i hc that morrigan showed her a few smiths songs during origins, and the one that stuck with her most is that joke isn’t funny anymore. she listens to it a lot, and relates to it a lot. it’s her favorite song. a few honorable mentions to that are sextape by deftones, and blood of the scribe by lamb of god. sometimes, she listens to the songs she loved back in dao times and gets lost in the memories of that time. her favorite song for that is the greatest by lana del rey.

josephine is mainly a classical/opera listener. i cannot picture her listening to anything else. maybe sometimes she gets angry, or exhausted/fed up with her job, and listens to the things she considers to be “heavy” but it’s something like acdc which she considers to be basically death metal because it has an audible electric guitar.

the chargers just blast dad music 24/7, along with varric/sera/blackwell.

cassandra absolutely listens to love songs all the time. she falls asleep listening to a playlist filled with songs like video games/love song/without you/lucky ones by lana. i feel like she was absolutely a tumblr girl and never grew out of that music taste despite presenting as an absolute hardass.

dorian adores artists like kylie minogue, lady gaga, etc. his favorite songs are shampain by marina, aura by lady gaga, and 911 also by gaga lmao. he also for SURE owns a justice for artpop shirt.

i have a lot more but don’t want to type any more out if this gets any attention i’ll add more tho- if you’ve somehow read this far into my adhd rambles thank you 🙏🙏 and comment ur thoughts/ideas of what characters would listen to

[fellow-traveller]

Okay, this is purely an expansion of my JoJo OC - Il Gatto - and his world as a thief. Expanding his backstory is gonna be the death of me hence why I held back from talking more about this idiot.

But wth. I guess it's better to share it now than let it gather cobwebs at the back of my head.

So, Il Gatto is part of a gang unrelated to Passione (I don't have a name for them yet). Their modus operandi ranged from petty thefts on unsuspecting tourists, to robbing stores and banks. There are 6 people in it, including Il Gatto.

Each of them are Stand users, obviously. I have a rough image of how they'd look like but that'll be for another post, I think. Neither had a name yet, not even a Stand name...except one I've already contemplated about.

First, there are these twins. One girl, one boy. Probably about 10-12yo. I was thinking the girl has a Stand ability that could change a human into any animals she wished, and vice versa. She can also select only a limb to change, like changing a human arm into a lobster's claw...you get the idea. Useful for misdirections. She's cheeky, playful, a bit clumsy and likes to toy with her victims. I personally made her solely to change Coco Jumbo into a human temporarily to include a Stand-less Polnareff into this version of HoHo's Bizarre Adventure.

As for her twin, he's more quiet, stoic and calculative. I was thinking that his powers would be something like Khnum and Matte Kudasai combined. The people and animals his Stand touches will change into something similar but not quite. However, the ability doesn't work on him. Useful for recon and also misdirections.

I also have another guy, about Il Gatto's age, who's more reserved and timid. I'm not sure yet if I want him as Il Gatto's childhood friend or not. His Stand is an obscure one. It manipulates a confined space he is in (like a room or a in a car) and changes everything according to his will. It's much like Tenore Sax, except that the small range and time window are compensated by how much it can manipulate the room. It can even manipulate the air, the temperature, the electricity and water that goes through it, almost anything, really. Great for deception when running a heist.

Then, I got one mommy older lady, probably in her late 30s, who's the second-in-command of the team. She takes care of the younger ones, basically. Now this is the character I sort of established a bit more. It might not be a great idea, but I gave her the von Stroheim surname. She's a huge, strong gal with a Stand called Feuer Frei, a Stand with the ability to take a piece of anything, living or not, and propel it like bullets. Bigger ones will work like bazookas. Great ability to have when in a shootout.

The last one is the leader. A man in his 40s, with years of experience in heists and robberies. He and the Stroheim lady go way back, in their own mafia organisation, but Passione came in and practically bulldozed their gang to the ground. I haven't establish what his Stand is yet, so I'm keeping him a mystery for now.

...

Sounds like I just wrote the plot of a new JoJo spin-off. Now you know why I don't wanna expand on Il Gatto's story before this...I'd get overboard...

But, yeah, if I have the time, I'll try to get a drawing of the team out.

[medijoshanks]

11. things you said when you were drunk.

warnings: drunk, tipsy smiley. cursing. timeskip smiley so he's in his 20's, but i don't mention any manga spoilers!

genre: fluff. established relationship.

playlist; won’t go home withouth you - maroon 5, stereo hearts - gym class heroes ft adam levine.

40 things you said ask prompt now closed.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️ ️️

️️ ️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️ ️️

“Hoya, we can’t get in if you don’t tell me your password.”

Nahoya Kawata cutely shook his head no, an innocent smile present in his face.

He moved out of his brother’s and his apartment recently, and only a few hours prior he had fully settled down in his new house, and had changed his password from the generic one that came with the system to a personalised one that same day. But you couldn’t be with him yesterday and he had been an absolute child about it, whining at you at any chance he got about how much he missed you, even if you had been with him the whole day before. You rolled your eyes, hiding your own smile at his adorable pout. You couldn’t show him your weakness for this soft side of him or else the intoxicated little shit will simply take advantage of the situation and exploit it.

You damn him and his charming face. “I can’t do that, baby, password's a secret. But,” giddy blue eyes stared at your own expectant ones, trying to clumsily pull you near him. He hiccuped, and it shouldn’t be as endearing as it was, but he was too stubborn on this new sudden idea he had to notice your softening eyes. “I’ll tell you if ya sing a song to me, deal?”

“Or you just could put it in yourself, Nahoya. Here, come,” you grabbed your whining boyfriend from the waist, trying your best not to let him fall, and moved him to the door where the lock awaited the required 6 numbers to let you pass through.

Nahoya, of course, decided to be difficult. With a childish stomp, he refused. “Nuh uh. A' want you to sing to me first.” Gracelessly pulling himself out of your grip, you let him slump to the floor, crossing his arms at you as if to prove he could be more of a brat that he already was. “I won’t do anything ‘less my baby sings to me.” 

You covered your face with your hands, repressing your need to yell in frustration and instead heaving out a long sigh. Where the hell was Souya when you needed him? Ah, right, he wasn’t home, he was out there using his twin’s bike because his broke down, being the whole reason you had to drag your boyfriend’s ass home at 3 am, basically carrying him alone from the bar to his apartment. Massaging your temples, you cursed the twin. What a wasted opportunity, you thought, he could at least be here to record this on his phone and send it to you later.

“Nnngh, you won’t sing to me, won’t kiss me, won’t even call me baby and now you're not paying ‘ttention to me? What kinda significant other are ya?!”

You rolled your eyes, again, wishing this man child wouldn’t be so fucking loud this late. You didn’t kiss him because as soon as you put your face close to his, he pushed you far from him and vomited all over the poor bar’s entry, but you didn’t have the patience to remind him that. “Fine, I’ll sing to you, you giant baby, but only if you promise you’ll get inside as soon as I’m done.”

You gave up fighting him, lowering yourself until you were sitting beside him on the ground, and Smiley quickly draped himself all over you, legs over yours and both your arms linked with his. He was a clingy drunk. “Of course!” he shrinked to himself at your deadpan stare, quietly repeating, “of course, I promise.”

Leaning closer to him, you put one of your hands out from his grabby hands to cover your mouth, hopefully saving his neighbours from hearing your voice this late, and softly started to sing to him the first song that popped into your head. You started humming a random Maroon 5 song, hearing him let out a dreamy sigh at your choice. Still singing in a low tone, you smirk, knowing this would calm him down. His lame ass enjoyed all of their songs.

Maybe it was the late hour, the liquor on his veins, or the hallway’s lighting was playing tricks on him, yet all Nahoya’s hazy mind could see was you. He thought you never looked more beautiful than right now, taking care of his spoiled self, being so good for him, with your love and attention. Did you even know what you did to him? To his heart? Who’s kingdom has he saved in his past life to deserve you, now?

Nahoya hugged himself closer to you, like he wanted nothing more than to merge himself with you until you both were one body alone, and quietly behaved. It didn’t matter if he deserved you or not, he thought, he’s not letting you go anywhere anytime soon.

When your tranquil humming came to a stop, you swore he purred in content, squeezing you against his body. “Mhm, I love you, ya know? Password’s your birthday. Souya teased me so badly for it, baby, ‘wasn’t even funny.”

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the nth time this night. Of course it was your birthday, you think as you aid him to shakily get up. Nahoya stands with your help, slowly puts his password in and when it’s done, he proceeds to lay all his weight on you, once again. He comfortably nuzzles to your neck, and you try to hide how shy his answer made you, putting up your best uninterested face. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” 

As always, naturally, Nahoya sees straight through your façade. He laughs out loud, totally amused, ignoring your menacing “quiet down!”, his breathy laugh on your neck giving you goosebumps. He turns fully around to you, giving you one quick peck on your lips before you can protest, “I got you all flustered, haven’t I, cutie? You already know I love you."

You only chuckle at him, “move, c’mon”, and yeah, you think as you the both of you finally go inside, a framed picture of his twin and you greeting you two on the wall by his front door, you know he loves you all right.

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[tottymatsuno]

I have no writing ideas atm but I do have doodles for this au.

So my regular OC kids Chinatsu and Timatsu are here, Goonie too and my baby Vivi...and it takes a while for both Todo and I to fall for each other bc i really just want to raise his son and Todoma is very much still grieving.

He's got complicated feelings bc i look a lot like his late wife, to the point where it's easy to confuse us as twins. I was like his work wife specifically bc i looked like her so we were buddy-buddy and friends for several years while he experienced martial bliss, even gave him tips based off of my dangerous pregnancy. We were close work friends but had no contact outside of work, so even tho we know each other and trust each other there is a lot to understand and learn.

I basically created like a mirror image oc of myself who would've absorbed all of my typical fucked up totty love shit instead of me. Anyways it's a mutual slowburn with one awkward and drunk encounter with us until Todoma is able to like recover from his grief, meanwhile my baby fever is being scratched like crazy with my two kids.

I'll call Totty like "Put my son on the phone" and he would be confused like "your son? 😍" MISS MA'AM, I AINT CALL TO TALK TO YOU PUT MY JUNIE GOONIE ON THAT DAMN PHONE. Anyways eventually we'd fall in love with each other after our marriage of convenience, and like I'd want more babies and he'd be stressed the fuck out bc my first pregnancy was dangerous, the trauma of having to relive that experience, the fact I'd be damn near 40, and almost like passes away when he finds out they're twins bc hes scared that'll definitely kill me especially bc I'd stay in the hospital for half the pregnancy.

But they'd be born healthy and the delivery would actually be stupid easy

Anyways love after grief and stuff, oh and old man kissing 🥺✌🏼💖

[astradrifting]

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted  - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!

[immxrtalbi]

Tomarry Fic Rec: Politics Related

I saw @infinite-verse3 asking for some stories about politics fics so I checked in my bookmarks. Sadly you’re right about not enough about it... But yeah I found these!! I also put how much of politics it involves and etc., below as feedback <3 Also please read the tags carefully in the site. And don’t forget to comment and give love to these stories!!

Aconitum by VivyPotter (18k, Not Rated)

Merope Gaunt lived ten years longer, and everything changed. In which Harry Potter is a successful young Auror, trying to keep a crumbling relationship with his wife afloat. He and Ginny argue almost constantly, as they discover that their values do not entirely match up. Enter Tom Riddle: handsome owner of a flower shop on Knockturn Alley, who lends a willing ear to Harry’s woes. This is not as light and fluffy as it sounds. The Ministry is rife with corruption, the Muggleborn Registration is at peak popularity, and Lucius Malfoy is Minister for Magic. Harry is determined to get to the bottom of it- something has gone wrong here. Otherwise known as the flowershop AU that spiralled.

8/10 in politics. This story is chilling and downright good. I’m sure everyone at least heard or read about this story once. Tom in his finest *chefs kiss*

Everything's Fine in the Beast Division by Merrinpippy (15k, T)

Harry's lifelong ambition is to become an auror, but as his knowledge of Dangerous Beasts is somewhat lacking, Newt Scamander agrees to take him on as an apprentice. Contrary to the Weasley twins' predictions that Harry would die of boredom, Harry finds his time at the Ministry very interesting, and befriending the very attractive Tom Riddle doesn't hurt at all- in fact, quite the opposite.

7/10 in politics. This was a super cute story! And I love that Newt and other characters are there. Falling in love, protective Tom. Great bits!

Wizengamot Administration Services by under_that_sun (10k, T)

Tom became a politician rather than a Dark Lord, but still has small Dark, more underground following. Harry is a new intern in the Ministry who captures Tom's eye.

10/10 in politics. Really good story. AU where Tom isn’t darklord but stills rules the Ministry like an iron fist. Perfect. And hard worker intern Harry bonus.

What We May Be by darklordtomarry (alarminghella) (20k, T)

The pureblood nobility are known as the Sacred 27 and they have ruled magical Britain without a monarch for centuries. Lord Thomas Slytherin has appeared out of nowhere with a strong claim to the throne; he has aroused the interest of the nation, and of Harry Potter; A seventh year Slytherin who occasionally works as an information broker. Like everyone else Harry wants to know more about Lord Slytherin, but will he like what he discovers?

9/10 in politics. This is a series but I only read part one so far. Harry is smart and troublesome and Tom is intrigued. The I-want-you-by-my-side sold it to me, also Harry acts like a detective!

Growing Old With You by Batsutousai (28k, T)

A chance meeting between a Hogwarts student and the Minister for Magic spirals into a love story that the tabloids adore, while those involved are just trying to figure out how they actually fit together.

4/10 in politics. Soulmates and age difference and a bunch of family drama because of that. Poor Tom dealing with everything. I found myself laughing in some scenes.

Don't Fuck With Florists (They'll Fuck You Up) by MayMarlow (14k, T)

Unsatisfied with his post-war life, Harry decides to get to the root of all of his problems when that root was still working at Borgin and Burkes shop in the late 40s. He’s the Master of Death, damn it, he can do what he wants for once in his life.

Tom Riddle isn’t particularly happy about working at a small, dingy shop for magical artifacts, no matter how interesting those artifacts are. He’s even less happy when an insufferable stranger sets up the most obnoxious flower shop right across the street.

What follows would be a romantic comedy, if it weren’t for politics.

10/10 in politics. Tom and Harry are store rivals basically and try to ruin each other somehow. They bicker a lot about politics and Harry is great in this fic! 

Custodarium by Tina48 (73k, E)

Have you been missing a time travel Tomarry where Harry and Tom are on somewhat equal footing? Where Tom is a plausible budding political leader? Where Harry can stand up to him and their relationship doesn’t seem toxic? Where the surrounding events and characters don’t go unnoticed? I have, so I gave writing one a try.

“The war is over and the Wizarding Britain has been slowly rising from the ashes. Harry just wishes none of it ever happened – what will he do when he’s given a chance to change the past? Was Dumbledore right about “the power he knows not” after all?“

5/10 in politics. One of the first stories I read! And this was an emotional rollercoaster. The storyline goes in different directions from time to time but overall it’s a good fic to start with!

Backwards Thinking by this_bright_eyed_soul (32k, E)

Harry Potter has an empty feeling after he wins the war, and turns to the memories of one Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr for something to do. He soon finds an interest - he doesn't belong in this timeline now he's fulfilled the prophecy, and is out to seek a new friend, who will soon become a little more than that...

4/10 in politics. I like that Harry was on Tom’s side and both fall in love. Tom is hurting in the inside and only Harry can it. Some emotional moments.

Sweetbrier by SofiaBane (15k, Not Rated)

Tom Riddle is a Wizengamot member sent to audit Hogwarts in the transition after Dumbledore's death. Harry is an Auror assigned to provide his security. Also, nobody knows they're exes.

10/10 in politics. Great details about Wizengamot and Ministry. Also Tom cares more about his career which Harry hates. Exes to friends to back together. Love it!

Office Romance by thebrighteststar10 (17k, Not Rated)

The CEO of Morsmordre, Tom Riddle, is one of the richest men in the world. Oh, and he's a workaholic. Despite such fact, the new head of IT manages to seize the man's attention.

2/10 in politics. Nothing with politics but it’s an office fic. And a funny cute one! Tom becomes obsessed and possessive with Harry because of his attitude. Tom tries to get his attention but it backfires on him. Harry is oblivious and Tom is shitty at showing love and it’s hilarious 

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

[pinoyrella]

Inarizaki Giving You A Red Envelope on Lunar New Years

Inarizaki x Manager Reader

FT: Kita Shinsuke, Ren Omimi, Ojiro Aran, Michinari Akagi, Ginjima Hitoshi, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintarou

TW: Language 

Genre: headcanons + crack + fluff???

Word Count: 1,720 (They’re all rlly short! Like me)

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

had another crack convo w my bb @babydontstoop abt atsumu and red envelopes after seeing a funny tiktok 

a/n: i mainly went off from chinese/vietnamese tradition with the hóngbāos/ and lì xìs for these headcanons bc i celebrate with my chinese + viet relatives growing up, im not familiar with the other traditions, i’m sorry! also 1 week kinda late but technically lunar new years goes on for about 2 weeks sooooo-

FYI: i’m going off of u.s currency for this asdhfkjk just an fyi.

ALSO: all images are taken off of google search, none of them belong to me!

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEARS!! 🧧😚💖

Kita Shinsuke:

- He would give a kinda subtle yet pretty envelope

- With an ox on it (bc year of ox)

- It also has that coin u kno the coin, commemorative coin(?)

- He is very VERY generous

- Gives u $100, all in 20′s babbeyy 🙈

- He hands it to you with both hands like he’s ur ah ma / bà nội 

- He’s so kind and gentle please 🥺

Practice had just ended and you were helping the team clean out the gym, before packing and heading out to go home.

“Excuse me Y/n” You hear a soft and calm voice calling from behind you. Turning your head you make eye contact with Kita who barely a few feet away from you

“Kita-san! ” You turn to face him, your hands grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “May I help you?” You ask giving a sincere smile.

“I’m fine, but there is something I want to give you before you leave” He lifts his left hand from his back, now using his right to connect and grab the envelope with both hands.

“Happy Chinese New Year” He wishes as he extends and offers you the red envelope.

Blushing furiously, you accept it with both your hands and give him your most heartfelt thanks.

Arriving home, you open the red envelope curious. Your soul leaves your body the moment you see good old Benjamin Franklin on the $100 note.

“Kita-san holy fuck.” You cry in shock. Thinking of how you’re gonna thank him.

Ren Omimi:

- Envelope’s square shaped and plain af

- it’s just red with “lucky money” in gold or sum

- He too is very generous

- Gives u $50

- Also hands it to you with both hands

You sit in the gym with your clip board in hand, taking notes of the other players until you feel a presence approach you from your left side.

“Y/n” The deep voice says. You turn to see Omimi’s shadow towering over you, jesus christ this man’s so goddamn tall. “Yes Omimi?” You greet him cheerfully.

The man says not a word, but pulls out a red envelope, handing it to you with both hands.

Your brain short circuits, confused before he gives a nod. Sudden realization takes place, it’s for you. “Omimi!” You cry, setting down the clip board and taking the red envelope from his hands. Thanking him endlessly before he leaves to get back to practice.

As he turns to walk away, you grab your clip board again, shielding yourself opening the red envelope curious. ‘50$?!’ You scream internally. 

Running after Omimi, you tackle him from behind giving him a hug, your face buried into his shirt. “Xiexie” You muffled into his jersey.

Aran Ojiro:

- gets you a very fancy envelope

- Like the ones that isn’t sold in packs when u go to the chinese market

- Specifically the ones made from silk and has a jade ring attached

- He gets u ONE LIKE O N E THAT ONE SPECIFIC DESIGN (pls i sound crazy i’ll just attache the image so u kno what im talking abt)

- He wasnt sure how much to put inside so he gives u $40

- He tries to remember how to say happy new year to you and pronounces it perfectly

- No seriously like PERFECTLY like better than me.

- also take this man home right now to meet your parents i fken swear

“Y/N!” You hear someone yell from behind you as you were walking home. Turning you see Aran running to you, trying to catch up.

“Aran?” You run to meet him halfway.

Aran pauses and takes a few breathes before grabbing his backpack and grabbing something from inside.

He pulls out a beautifully crafted silk red envelope pouch with a tassel and jade ring tied to the front.

You stand there completely flustered and frozen.

He looks down, the envelope in both his hands offering it out to you.

“恭喜發財 (gōng xǐ fā cái)” He says perfectly, the sunset hitting his face. 

Akagi Michinari:

- Cute bb would give u the cutest fucking envelope

- Probably w hello kitty on it

- He gives you a $2 bill

- Shiiiii he knows whats up, that shit lucky and rare

- He’d hand it to u while giving u a back hug

“Y/n!!!” Before you can turn around, a heavy weight drags you down from behind. “A-Akagi-san?!” You yelp in surprise.

He stays cling onto you from behind as you try to gain balance. Hearing him let out a soft chuckle. “Here you go!” He says, his arms going around your shoulders to shove the super cute Hello Kitty li xi in your face.

You take a second to process what he had just given you to face. “AKAGI!!” You take it as he hops off your back. Then turning around to smother him into a hug. Giving him little cheek kisses.

Ginjima

- I love him, he would give u a cute envelope too

- Like with a little cartoon ox character on it

- With like lil horns sticking out

- U get the idea

- Gives u $10 but in $2 bills

You sit with the Miya twins and Suna during lunch, scanning around the cafeteria trying to find Ginjima, usually he’d be with you guys.

As you were about to ask-speak of the devil.

“Y/n-chan” He immediately sits beside you, placing his tray of food down.

“This is for you” He reveals the cutest red envelope with a cartoon cow on it, handing it to you flustered. His cheeks bursting red.

You sit and stare for a second, you start to blush feeling embarrassed. Slowly taking it from his hands, you give him a quiet ‘thank you’ before returning to your meal.

Unsure of what to do, before going back into your meal, you quickly turn your head planting a kiss to his cheek.

Osamu, Suna and Atsumu watched, their jaw dropped as Ginjima begins to turn into his own red envelope. Before you quickly place your face in your palms.

Atsumu Miya:

- This mfer would give the flashiest one

- Like you kno the ones that are so colorful and has like

- W those shitty knock-off characters from cartoons

- THE FUCKING MINION OR PEPPA PIG ONE BWHAHAHAH

- Hes broke as fuck so its p empty

jk

- He would put a coin inside.

- Not the fortune coin

- Literally a coin like a quarter or somethin

- Hed slap it against ur table while giving it to u

- He tries to say happy new year but fucking butchers it

You sit at your desk, it’s so early in the morning and your parents had woken you up early to help prepare some cooking essentials for tonight’s dinner. 

As you were about to doze off to sleep, you hear a CLACK against your desk, immediately waking you up and having you face up.

Just inches away was Atsumu’s face, that lil smirk oh how you just wanna-

You look down seeing the red envelope he placed on your desk. 

“CHUC MUNG NAM MOIIIIIII” he greets dragging out the “i” it’s like he didn’t even try to pronounce the greeting correctly. He ruffles your hair and gives another warm smile. 

You look back up to him, blushing before greeting back. “Ah, chúc mừng năm mới ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu quirks his eyebrow staring back down at you. “I’m pretty sure you said it wrong.” He says before walking off to his desk.

You sit there fucking flabbergasted. ‘What the fuck?’ You blink and turn your attention back down to your desk. Looking at the envelope you cringe. ‘It’s so bright...’ you internally think.

Osamu Miya:

- He gives you the basic basic red envelope 

- He was running late and didnt have time to stop by the bank, he wanted to be extra and give you $20 in $2 bills.

- So he just gives you a $20 bill.

- When he hands it to u, u notice its all bumpy

- Ur feeling around the envelope and theirs something else inside than just money

- U open and theres lucky candy stuffed inside

“Good-morningggggg” You turn to look up from your desk, seeing the younger twin walk in after his brother. He looks down at you, then to your desk seeing the red envelope his brother gave you. 

He cringes with you, before pulling out another, handing it to you.

“Happy Tết cutie” He greets. You thank him and greet him back as you take the envelope, you realize how bumpy and lumpy it is. 

You look back up to Osamu, he’s waiting for you to open it. You open it and out drops like 7 pieces of lucky candy. 

You look back up to him in confusion before he swoops in and takes back the 7 pieces, unwrapping them all at once and shoving them into his mouth.

Chewing, he winks at you before walking away to his seat. You can hear the audible crunch coming from the hard as fuck candy as he walks away.

Suna Rintarou:

- My guy doesnt even give you a red envelope

- He straight up just gives you cash

- Drops it on your desk and leaves

…

- Im jk he would come back and be like “sike u thought”

- Pulls out a red envelope, cute but has one of the most stupidest fucking design 

You listen to the crunching of Osamu’s poor teeth grinding against the lucky candy before-

“Yo” Before having the time to look up, you hear a slap against your desk as Suna begins to turn to walk away. You look down to see a $50 bill on your desk.

You turn to look at him, he stares at you for a second before walking away.

???

He comes back to you after settling his bag down.

He takes the $50 on your desk and slips it into the red envelope now in his hands. After sliding it in he brings the envelope to his mouth and begins to lick the ends as he seductively looks at you before folding the paper in. 

You watch him in disgust suna baby you don’t have to lick the ends of the red envelope that’s not how they work. He sets the red envelope back on your desk, his head coming closer to yours, enough for you to feel his breath against you.

He brings his mouth over to your ear before whispering in a husky voice “Happy Lunar New Year đẹp gái qua~” Before pulling away and walking to his desk like nothing happened.

You sit there absolutely shaken, until you look down to see the red envelope he left. Jesus fuck what the hell is that thing.

A/N: OH TO BE CALLED PRETTY GIRL BY SUNA IS AN ULTIMATE DREAM ASDFGKJHJK pls i wanna gib the inarizaki boys smooches theyre all so great AAAHHHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE MWAH ILYYYY!!!!

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 43)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: The usual, mentions of sexual acts but nothing explicit, and very minor descriptions of injury. Also, sort of descriptions/recollection of a panic attack? It’s Ivar breaking down on Gǫfga on the Reader’s PoV, basically.

A/N: I’m so sorry for being so irregular with updates lately, I’m trying to get better with that. Thank you so much for being patient with me.

This is a bit of a filler chapter, a breather made up of fluff (and a tad of foreshadowing, if you can call it that). Hope you enjoy!

Friendly reminder that in between the beginning of this chapter and the end of Chapter 40 only a night + half a morning went by.

The ground is bitingly cold against your bare feet as you make your way back to bed, but you still linger standing by it as you reach it, eyeing your husband with what you are certain are pleading eyes.

It is with a resigned sigh that Ivar, already used to your…particularities, moves from his side of the bed into the vacant spot left behind by you. Not missing a moment, you slip back into the bed, soaking up the warmth he left behind on what was his side of it.

“Your side wasn’t even cold.” He grumbles, complaining even as he lifts one arm for you to settle against him.

“Colder than this one.” You retort without hesitation, burrowing closer to the warmth of his body. A part of you is still thrilled at truly being able to feel his skin against yours without any barrier, a part of you still feels tentative at the new normalcy after everything that has happened, that has changed.

Still, it is a movement as usual and familiar as holding his hand on yours during a feast to drape one of your legs over his as you burrow against his chest; and to you there is no difference between feeling his skin against yours or feeling the fabric of his trousers. Too late, perhaps, you realize the same may not apply to your husband.

But Ivar makes no point of it. As always, there’s the barely-there moment where his body tenses up before he makes himself release that tension, and on a good day brings you a tad closer, or puts a heavy hand on the thigh that lays thrown over his.

And it is yet another small thing that you will never cease to revel on, to be in awe of, the fact that he trusts you enough to trust not only his heart but his body to you.

There’s responsibility in having a claim on someone’s heart, you have known that all your life. Yet you’ve recently learned there’s a responsibility in having a claim on someone’s body as well, especially when that someone is Ivar.

Earlier this morning, when you had time and freedom to do what you have wanted to do for so long -what you intend to do often- and traced with hands and lips every inch of him that you wished to; when you kept in mind his words you should say you love me more often, and reminded him of all the things you love about him; you witnessed a side of Ivar you hadn’t, in all these months, truly seen before.

There were glimpses, here and there, usually quickly overshadowed by explosive anger, or hidden behind biting words, or simple kept from you by stubbornness and pride alone.

Your heart still lingers on it, with a blend of a protectiveness you know well and a guilt you are sadly familiar with as well, on how he grew more and more agitated, holding himself more tightly under his control yet to you seeming more and more fragile, as the trail of worship that in your eyes would never be enough travelled down his body, leaving behind the parts he took pride in and reaching the ones he is usually intent on hiding, on making you forget about.

His eyes left you by the time you pressed twin kisses to the prominent juts of his hipbones, and they didn’t return to you for a while after that. You didn’t mind, though maybe you should have, maybe you should have made him look at you and kept him tethered then.

And his hands left you too, left you by the time the tips of your fingers had reached his knees, stayed instead by his sides where he clenched them into fists. Something you have learned about Ivar is that he finds solace in touch as much as he does in the sound of your voice, and with the useless benefit of hindsight you realize you shouldn’t have left him without your touch.

Because that is what it was, even while being everything else at the same time: the absence of you.

It was your touch leaving him so suddenly when you had done nothing but trail lips and hands over every part of him you wished to for as long as you had been awake; but it also was the promise that you would stay tied to his wrist when for so long he had believed you would leave him, had convinced himself of it, had resigned himself to it.

At the moment you didn’t think twice about it, and when you had had your fill, you lifted your hands off him and moved up on the bed to kiss him, maybe to start the trail again, and do so over and over again if he so let you, if that is what it took for him to believe you; but it was then that Ivar crumbled.

The until then carefully controlled breaths stuttered out of rhythm, rushed and frantic and uneven; and in between gasping breaths a whisper of your name, or what once could have been it.

The sharp tinge of the fear, the pain, the helplessness that ran through your veins in that moment is still lingering through you; because it was barely an instant, but Ivar’s breaths were choked and almost-sobs, and his eyes wouldn’t open and you weren’t even certain he was hearing you as you tried bringing him back to himself.

You pressed yourself closer to him, offered touch and words, and the Gods know in that moment -in all moments, if you are honest- there is nothing you wouldn’t offer.

It seemed impossible for a man his size, a man of his temper and his ruthlessness, to feel so fragile in your arms; but as he sat up on the bed, accepting the embrace you so willingly -desperately, if you are honestly- offered, wrapping strong arms around you and bringing you as close as he could, his face buried in the crook of your neck; all you could think was of drowning.

Unbidden to your mind had come the image of a man drowning, and you weren’t certain if the uneven breaths that trailed down the column of your throat were the relieved gasps of having reached the coast or if he was still lost to you amongst the waves.

He wasn’t, you remind yourself. He wasn’t lost to you, and in between shaking breaths and hands that maybe gripped you too tightly he came back to you.

The soft press of Ivar’s lips on the crown of head dissipates whatever hold your thoughts had on you, and you find your lips pulling into a smile at the small gesture, heart warmer.

Your fingers are still playing absently with the amulet of Thor that hangs from his neck. Your head resting on his warm chest, you find yourself enveloped in the strange peace that comes from the repetitive motions of your fingers on the amulet and the soothing cadence of Ivar’s breathing under you.

“Do you miss it already?” He muses. As always, presuming you know what is going on inside his head by asking such a vague question.

“Miss what?”

“Your pendant,” He explains, a subtle movement of his hand on the small of your back -or maybe it isn’t subtle, and the scars don’t let you fully feel the change- as he moves the hand you adorned with your pendant earlier this morning. “You always play with it, with that or your wedding ring. Do you miss it already?”

He isn’t asking about a pendant. You know him well enough to know that by now.

“I still have my wedding ring.” You remind him, but somewhere deep in your chest you find those words, that reassurance, ring truer for your foolish heart than you would have expected it to. You’d rather miss the pendant and the world it promised you for the rest of your days, than having to part from the ring engraved with flowers that adorns your finger and the promise that came with it.

Ivar’s eyes narrow, just slightly, and he presses, “That isn’t an answer.”

Chin resting on his chest, you sigh as you look up at him. Stubborn.

Tightening your hold on the amulet of Thor just enough to make Ivar feel the pull and obediently lean forward a bit, you rise and kiss him softly. When you part, you don’t resist the urge to give in, lingering for a few heartbeats on the closeness of an almost-kiss, of brows pressed together, of noses slightly touching, of shared breaths, of his eyes that even as you keep your own closed can feel upon you.

Finally opening your eyes, a knot of something on your chest making speaking somehow harder for a moment, you promise,

“No, I don’t miss it.”

But all the answer he offers is thoughtful hum, and with one last press of his lips on yours he pulls back slightly.

His eyes search yours for a moment, before his hand leaves your back to reach for the amulet hanging from his neck, taking it off.

It really is foolish that after everything your heart still does this strange jump in your chest, it really is hopeless that after everything your lips curve into a smile as lost as it is lovesick.

Ivar slides the amulet of Thor over your head, following with his eyes and the barest touch of his fingers the trail of the small iron Mjölnir makes until it sits low between your breasts, on the center of your chest.

A shiver runs down your spine at the faint touch of his fingers on your skin. Or perhaps it is at the way he is looking at you, as if you are somehow a dream.

His eyes travel from the amulet to your gaze, and he says, “It will do for now.”

Your eyebrows raise, “For now?”

“Mhm,” He hums, before offering a nonchalant curve of his mouth downwards, “I enjoy gifting you things. I plan on getting you more beautiful ones than that.”

You know there’s thoughts you can’t quite understand, words he isn’t quite saying, hidden somewhere in there, but you still choose not to argue or prod, and rest your head against Ivar’s chest once again.

With one hand reaching up for the amulet that now hangs from your neck, you question quietly, “And if I want this one?”

“It is yours.” He promises, and you seal your smile in a kiss over the ink on his chest.

It proves easy to lure Ivar into staying in bed with you. Too easy, and you have a feeling he will come to regret letting you know of how you can make him cave with your body pressed against his, your voice just a tad rougher.

You have switched places and dozed off at some point, Ivar’s head a comfortable weight against your chest and his arms secured around you lulling you into lingering in that place between awake and asleep for so long you lose track of time; but you are woken up by Hvitserk’s voice on the other side of your door.

“Get up already, we need you.”

“What is it?” Ivar asks, more alert even if his fingers continue to trail lazily up and down your sides.

“Not you.” Hvitserk huffs.

Sharing a look with your husband, you get up from the warm bed and quickly get dressed, Ivar staying behind to take the time to set the splint over his broken leg and put on the iron braces.

The blood staining Ubbe’s shoulder is the first thing you notice as you walk out, and quick strides take you to the almost deserted room where he and Hvitserk stand.

“It is too early for you to be injured.” You sigh, turning to one of the thralls and ordering her to bring some stuff from the apothecary, before your eyes return to Ubbe.

He shrugs with a wince, “A scratch.”

“It’s also the middle of the day.” Hvitserk points out.

You concede with a gesture of your head, and signal for Ubbe to sit by one of the hearths of burning coals.

“What happened?”

Hvitserk takes a seat on one of the chairs across from his brother, a handful of berries making their way to his mouth before he chooses to speak.

At this point you are starting to think he makes sure to have food in his mouth when he talks to you so he can annoy you.

“He dared an Abbasid to spar with him.” He tells you, ignoring his older brother’s glare.

You shake your head with a scoff, “By all the Gods, why didn’t you use wooden weapons?”

Ubbe shrugs again, which makes him wince in pain. Again.

“He had a curved sword, I was…curious.”

You gesture with your hand and he takes off the bloodied shirt, and the thrall was luckily quick, and you have the bay laurel and horsetail salve and the utensils needed to clean and close the wound.

You rest your weight against the table as you get to work on the worse of the injury, thankfully not to deep, just the press of a scimitar too close when eh tried parrying it like a normal sword.

You always were methodical -slow, Galla would accuse you- when it comes to stitching up wounds. A blend of the patience teachers like Aamir instilled on you and the care for scarring that years in the Eastern Roads left you with. So, in the time that you are working on the stitches, Hvitserk mutters a goodbye and leaves you and Ubbe in the room where men usually speak of battle.

“So, now that we are alone,” You start, gathering some of the strong-smelling salve and beginning to apply it to the edges of the cut. Ubbe hisses away from the sting of it, but you make him stay still with your hand on his opposite shoulder. “Will you tell me why you wanted to see me?”

“I needed your help, as you can see.”

You shake your head with a scoff.

“You are a terrible liar,” Ubbe adjusts in his seat, a gesture you’d write off to nervousness more than pain. You still click your tongue with a quiet order of, “Stay still.”

He ignores your words, but obeys anyways.

“Ivar told me your people came to find you, to take you back with them.”

Your hands still momentarily at his words.

You are certain he will deny it until his Gods call him to Valhalla, but Ivar trusts and counts on Ubbe more than you would have thought when you first came to Kattegat. And this is more than proof of that.

Ubbe is -as far as you know- the only person aside from Freydis that knows about the deal you made with Ivar on the morning after your wedding, now you know Ivar told him about what it meant that the Greeks are alive; and you know he went to Ubbe with those secrets, with those problems, because despite everything he still relies on his older brother.

There is much of what goes on between them -between all the sons of Ragnar- that is still much of a mystery to you, both because you have no experience with siblings to compare them with, and because they are all…particular, to say the least. But you know Ivar relies on Ubbe, trusts him; and you know Ubbe is protective over Ivar, exceedingly so maybe.

From the very first moment he saw you in Kattegat Ubbe distrusted you, most likely thinking you had gotten to his brother’s side by whispering lies and promises; and he has kept a subtle but watchful eye on you, you know this.

So now you take a deep breath, and continuing the motions of your hands over the wound, you offer, “Is that what you wanted to see for yourself? Whether I had stayed?”

Ubbe holds your gaze, headstrong and unwavering. You have to bite back a smile.

It is once again standing before a Viking holding on to an axe who yet holds more dangerous threats in the blue of his eyes, and him warning you, despite all the differences I may have with Ivar, I will never stand by and allow someone to stab him in the back; he is many things, but he is still my brother.

He presses, “But have you? Stayed?”

“I am here, am I not?” You offer, but of course it isn’t enough. You sigh, “I won’t leave your brother, you needn’t worry.”

A flickering narrowing of his eyes, and he huffs, “I wasn’t worried.”

“Once again: you are a terrible liar,” You tease, and Ubbe huffs a laugh. Grabbing the linen for the bandage, you start, “If he hears…”

Ubbe rolls his eyes, interrupting you, “I know. He would call it pity; say I still treat him like my poor crippled brother.”

“Well…aren’t you?” You ask quietly, hands folded on your lap now that you are through with healing him. “You don’t try to protect Hvitserk the way you do Ivar.”

“Hvitty didn’t bring home a woman in chains and claimed he would marry her,” He retorts, and you concede with a quiet chuckle. He adjusts in his seat, again. “I have underestimated Ivar before, I know this. But…I know my brother, and I know he is more…vulnerable than he lets on. You can call it pity if you want, but it isn’t, I just-…he is my little brother.”

At the end of the string of jumbled thoughts leaving his lips you find the only reason that matters, the only justification that anyone ought to care for. You nod your head once, your eyes on his and what you hope is a comforting smile curving at your lips.

“You intend to protect his heart, that is something I can understand. But like I said, you needn’t worry.”

Ubbe leans back on his seat, studying you for a few breaths before he says, “So you have chosen to stay.”

“I have.”

“Why?”

Eyebrows lifted, you make a face at his words, “I’m afraid some secrets are between my husband and me.”

“It is no secret that you love him.”

You offer a smile that the Prince returns, and after a breath you cross your arms and gesture with your head for the door.

“Then there is no reason you should be still sitting here covered in blood.”

____

When you first walk into the room where you are to have dinner together, you don’t pay much attention to the presence of the three men sitting by the table already, finding yourself too engrossed in studying -and marveling at- the embroidery work on Thora’s sleeve.

“I’d say you have to teach me your ways, but…”

“It isn’t something you have talent for, no,” She retorts, sweet even in her brutal honesty, and you chuckle. “I can make something for you. For a price, of course.”

Your smile widens, “Of course.”

Your attention is diverted to the sons of Ragnar when Ubbe calls your name in greeting, and though you turn your gaze to the table you are focused only on the bandages over his shoulder.

“A woman from Kufa told me she wants to speak with you, her na-…” Ubbe starts, but you dismiss those words with a gesture of your hand.

“How is your shoulder?” You ask, striding forward towards him to press your hand lightly over the bandages, checking for fever. Ubbe shares a glance with Ivar over your shoulder, but you still press, “Ubbe? Are you in much pain? If you are I can m-…”

“No, I’m not,” He retorts, somewhat hesitantly. Satisfied, you pull back, and start walking back to you. Clearing his throat behind you, he questions, “Is she…always like this?”

“She is,” Ivar answers dryly, “Try making her stop, brother. I dare you.”

You reach his side and tug lightly at the braids at the back of his head, chastising, “Don’t talk ill about your wife.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, one hand grasping at yours where it was childishly tugging at his hair, and the other grasping firmly at your waist. Ivar brings you closer, raised eyebrows and mocking smile.

“I wasn’t,” He promises, his head following his words and accentuating his taunt. “You just know you are difficult, so you assumed I was.”

You shake your head with a laugh, but answer the call and lean to let him capture your mouth in his, a sigh leaving your nose as you give in to his kiss.

You settle on the seat by his side before long, and in quiet, almost intimate ease, you start having dinner.

Ubbe leans forward and starts, “Your betrothed.”

“Late betrothed,” You correct, at the same time Ivar quips, not anymore. “What of him?”

“You said he was once of the best in your homeland,” He starts, and you nod your head once with a hum, in your mind seeing the countless times you saw Narses in a battlefield. It was a dance for him to be in the midst of battle, it was an old song that he knew by heart the sound of war. The world needn’t know of all the times he came back bloodied and bruised, they only need to remember his courage, his strength. Ubbe presses, “Why was he of the best? How?”

“He had me,” You retort around a smile. Hvitserk scoffs, and your smile widens as you turn your attention to him. “You doubt it?”

“I’d never discredit what you can do to a man, no.” He says, a taunt hidden somewhere in his words. Looking out of the corner of your eye to Ivar, you watch him narrow his eyes as he raises a cup to his brother with a purposely false smile, a poisoned acceptance of his words.

You offer Ubbe a more truthful answer, “He was raised to be the best from birth. Trained in battle like a Spartan, in war like a Macedonian.”

“There’s a difference for you Greeks?”

“Between war and battle? Of course,” You reply, taking a sip from the cup of rose wine before you continue, “Narses won the battle for Dublin, but because he refused to lose another battle when Ivar and the army joined yours, he lost the war.”

Your mind lingers on thoughts of those last few days with Narses, thoughts of the arguments as you demanded he listened to you and retreated before Kattegat’s army joined Dublin’s, thoughts of the rage and desperation and helplessness.

You wonder if him doing as you told him to and retreating, even if he had to defy Stithulf and the Arabs, would have been the better outcome.

Because you will never be able to shake off the memory of the stench of blood and iron as you tried feebly to hold death at bay with shaking hands and hastily-made concoctions, the memory of the bodies of familiar armor and familiar faces that littered the battlefield, the memory of Narses’ gasping breaths as he choked around the syllables of your name; and so you have to believe that there was something you could have done differently.

Believing a better choice could have prevented it hurts you, of course it does; but resigning yourself to the massacre of the last free Greeks being inevitable, being somehow mandated by the Fates themselves, is something you simply cannot do.

The dinner progresses, and Ubbe doesn’t let go of the topic of Narses. Holding a piece of lamb by his mouth, Ubbe lifts clear eyes to you and insists,

“How did he fight against these Abbasids?”

“Firstly, he did not spar with real weapons,” You try with a tilt of your head. He narrows his eyes at your mocking, but there’s insistence in his silence. “Get close so their spears are of little use, in close quarters try to be…quicker than them.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I am not a shieldmaiden, Ubbe. I’m just telling you what Narses taught me.”

“Hm. Did all your Greeks fight like him?”

You shrug one shoulder, taking a sip from your drink before you reply, “If they had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Hvitserk leans forward, injecting himself in the conversation while a moment ago he was entirely focused on the quiet giggles and easy smiles he coaxed out of Thora.

His smile is mocking, taunting, so alike Ivar’s when he asks, “So certain that you Greeks would have won, sister?”

“Stop calling me that, but yes, of course. Greeks were never something you knew how to fight, while we knew of Varangians and their ways. Imagine if…” You stop, and hesitate, eyeing the couple of bowls of different dried fruits on the table. Reaching for them, you clear a spot on the table with your free hand, and put the pieces as units. Ivar leans closer, almost leaning against you, to pay attention to what you’re doing. Lifting a piece, you tell Hvitserk, “This is something the army back home did very often. We make sure our disadvantage in a direct confrontation is certain, and we retreat, taunting your army into chasing us by using our archers. It is a matter of winding your warriors, but also of giving ours time to get into position, and keeping your attention on the archers. When we stop, we face you almost a direct line, a thin shield wall that isn’t a shield wall at all, with our archers on the left wing. So, what do you do?”

Ubbe huffs a breath, leaning back on his chair as he takes in the rudimentary formations you display on the table. He understands, he remembers.

You share a smile with him, but return your eyes to Hvitserk.

“Why would w-…”

“Try to remember what happened in Dublin before you arrived, brother.” You taunt, a tilt of your head that you know is annoying. But you are right, and there’s no harm in letting him know.

Hvitserk’s warm eyes travel from the pieces you set on the board to the small piece of dried fruit you hold between your fingers, and he sighs his response,

“They split and went for your archers. They went left.”

Smiling proudly, maybe a little arrogantly, you drive a wedge in between the pieces that symbolize their army.

“And so Ubbe allowed us an opening for our cavalry. We split his forces in two, our spear wall folded over his warriors; and…he lost,” You lift your eyes from the pieces on the rudimentary board to the Prince, “We knew how you Vikings fought, we knew you lacked formations, and it cost you.”

“But you Greeks rely too much on them.” Ivar offers, diverting your eyes and your attention to him. He smiles, his hand circling your wrist and bringing your fingers and the small piece of dried date you hold to his mouth.

Even if it should be an innocuous sight, it sends a pang of heat through you to watch Ivar bite the piece of fruit from your fingers, eyes on yours.

Swallowing past a dry throat, you still insist, “Alright, Varangian,” His smile widens and so does yours, but you continue, “How would you win?”

“I already did,” He retorts easily, a small shrug of his shoulders that you know is meant to irritate you, and you hate the fact that it succeeds. Ivar’s smile is smug and infuriating, but he leans closer and you find your gaze lifting from his lips to his eyes with your heart doing a strange thing in your chest that it has no business doing after all this time. “Because you thought I’d do things how you wanted me to. You tried your phalanx when you faced me. It didn’t work, did it?”

“It wasn’t me.”

“That is not the point, my love,” He taunts, annoyingly arrogant, before shrugging with a downward curve of his mouth, “When our armies clashed before Aneridge, you held that formation. You shouldn’t have.”

You turn on the seat to face him directly, noting the maddening trail of his hand up and down your thigh but saying nothing, instead insisting,

“Narses led with the Arabs at his right wing, and you accommodated to it, Ivar. You followed, just like Ubbe.”

“He kept the mercenaries at his right flank because the tree line was on the other side. Unlike you, he expected our tricks, and he knew we had an ambush waiting. His mercenaries would have been at the left, like they were before, but I didn’t let him,” He corrects, annoyingly smug. His hand on your leg tightens, moves slightly up. “And because you Greeks rely so much on those formations, you were out of balance. And I won.”

There’s this thrill that runs down your spine, this flickered beat of your heart, as you hear him speak so surely, as you have him challenge you; that makes you think this time by his side has turned you a bit mad, because there is no reason why your lips should part, why your thoughts should daze.

Still, because the Titans may walk the earth when you keep your mouth shut, you insist arrogantly, “You didn’t win.”

Ivar smiles regardless, “What?”

You lean closer, “The Greeks retreated, so you didn’t win against Greeks, you won against Christians; and what you fought were my people following someone else’s command. You didn’t win against me, Ivar.”

You know the look in his eyes by now, you know hunger when you see it shining in pale blue eyes. And it just makes the thrill all the more exciting.

____ ____ ____

Hope you liked this, whatever it was lol

This was originally supposed to continue, but I ended up with a 7k+ words chapter on my hands that had a very clear break down the middle, so I split in two. So, next saturday’s update is a given at least, since it’s already written and edited lol

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[katierosefun]

i originally had a september wrap-up post queued but then tumblr fucking ate it, which made me very angry because i didn’t want to re-type the whole thing, but i’m procrastinating, so here i am, re-typing the whole thing of all the things i watched/consumed over the month of september, even if it’s a little late: (it’s fine, i didn’t watch a whole ton of stuff except...a lot of kdramas lmao. oh, and visions.) 

k-dramas: 

beyond evil 

okay, so i think this has been on my rec list for literally forever now, but...besties, i’m on my fifth watch of this goddamn show in the span of maybe two months, so if that doesn’t tell you how much this show has been a comfort/eating my brain lately, idk what will. 

i literally never shut up about this show, but if you’ve somehow been missing from my blog for a little bit, a quick summary: lee dong sik (played by the ever-wonderful shin ha kyun) was accused of murder + kidnapping a few young women, including his own twin sister 20 years ago. he’s lived a pretty quiet life on his own, and now 20 years later, his whole world is turned upside down again when hotshot new inspector han joo won (played by the talented yeo jin goo) comes into this little town. when the murders start up again, these two are thrown into a hellishly complex mystery. will throw you in for a hellish loop. i think my thoughts best summarize this show as come for the murder mystery, stay for whatever the hell joo won and dong sik have. 

okay, but all joking aside about how much i love joo won and dong sik (because...i truly do love them), this show was incredibly healing. once again: this show has quickly become a comfort show, basically to the point where i just watch it whenever i feel down (which happens to be a lot these days). idk man. humans aren’t meant to carry burdens on their own and all that stuff. sometimes u just need to remind yourself that. 

the crowned clown 

so, after watching beyond evil the fourth time, i realized that maybe i wanted to watch some of the actors’ other works. that was how i found myself watching the crowned clown, which...is an excellent kdrama now available on netflix (also on viki for free, just as beyond evil is). honestly, it’s been a hot second since i’ve watched historical dramas (saeguks), so i was a little unsure what to expect, but this show. bro. this show reminded me just how much i love historical dramas, because the court politics? the costumes? the music? the acting? fantastic. 

basically, this show is about the young clown (ie. performer) ha seon (played by yeo jin goo) who now has to replace the king, who might be like...two seconds away from snapping (if he hasn’t already). the reason they’re able to do this is because they look exactly identical despite not being related. 

this story is honestly wonderful. i loved it, and it’s an interesting way to look at the story behind the actual king (because. apparently this king was a real person, and i think his story has inspired quite a few other korean movies/shows). i thought yeo jin goo was brilliant in this show, and it’s really no surprise he became the youngest person ever nominated for a baeksang award because of this series. i was truly blown away by just how versatile he proved to be of an actor, and his dynamics with the other characters (the queen, the secretary being my fave, as well as the old eunuch jo), i just...bro. i’ll admit i wasn’t the biggest fan of the romance (don’t get me wrong! it was sweet!), but i think that might have been because this was so court politics heavy, and i adored it for that. if you’ve never watched a historical drama but want to and just don’t know where to start, i highly recommend this. 

d.p. 

bro....this show was dark. i watched it all in 2 days (pretty easy to do, considering it’s 6 episodes and maybe 40-50 minutes long per episode), and i needed to lie down. this is just one of those shows that i feel is...very important to watch, even if the content matter isn’t very bright. 

basically, dp is about two deserter pursuit officers: ahn jun ho (played by jung hae in) and han ho yul (played by koo kyo hwan). deserter pursuit officers are basically people who chase after people who deserted their military post--and for those who don’t know, being in the military is mandatory for men in south korea. this is the result of the armistice between the north and the south--basically, since north korea never agreed to an actual peace treaty, south korea is constantly under threat of war, which is why men need to serve at least a few years. (this is why a lot of actors + kpop band members often take breaks from their careers--to fulfill their military service time. because yup, even celebrities aren’t exempt from service!) 

anyways, this show really doesn’t pull back their punches. major trigger warnings for things like intense harrassment, suicide, domestic violence...it really does capture just how dark life can be, and also how toxic the military can be for men. because of that, i felt this show was incredibly well-crafted, incredibly nuanced, and in the end, i just felt sad. that said though, there was a hopeful ending, and i’m glad that this show was renewed for a second season, as i think this show is just...really important. 

squid game 

okay, so i don’t want to be that person, but your girl was watching squid game right after it came out, so i was here before the hype train--but okay, okay, i digress. (i am glad that this show is getting hype. i feel it’s very important that people watch this show.) 

if you haven’t noticed how squid game’s climbed to #1 on netflix worldwide (i think, anyways), well, then...buddy. squid game is about a bunch of people who have the chance to earn lots of money by playing what seems like innocent children’s games. (spoilers: they are far from innocent.) 

this show scarred me, to be honest. i needed to watch something lighthearted after this, just because it was so intense. lots of trigger warnings for blood and gore, as well as just. losing faith in humanity. but also, like dp, i felt this show was necessary. it was incredibly well-constructed in that it showed just what desperate people will do in order to survive, as well as exactly what a terrible capitalistic society will do to the working class. it’s depressing and sad, but also incredibly chilling because like. you can’t help but watch the characters and think, but would i do the same thing? i just want to pay off my own debt and take care of my family. wouldn’t i do the same thing? 

i won’t say more of this show for fear of spoilers, but. let me just say. that i really am glad this show exists. i hope people actually notice what the fuck it’s saying about our current system too, because hm, maybe i just want to suck the fun out of things, but there’s something very disturbing about how people are already cute-ifying this show (ie. “this is what i would wear to the squid games! :D” and “look at these squid-game inspired cookies! :D”, as if this show didn’t just deliver a heart-crushing message about capitalism + how the wealthy fuck over anyone who isn’t the 1% BUT ANYWAYS) 

tv 

star wars: visions 

lately i’ve been feeling weird about star wars for lots of different reasons which i don’t particularly feel like addressing today, but. visions really reminded me why i fell in love with star wars in the first place. i think for starters, well. it’s no surprise when i say that i felt an intense amount of joy of seeing east asian cultures so beautifully incorporated and respected in this show (no surprise seeing that this show was literally crafted by japanese anime studios), but like. it really was. a beautiful thing. i cried at least once per episode, either because i was so in awe of the animation and the themes or because i was just in awe that this thing exists. 

i think my favorite episode had to be the village bride--there was something so incredibly powerful about seeing someone who looked a bit like me say i am a jedi. what an iconic line. what an iconic story about a sad traumatized gal deciding to step up and fight, actually. peak star wars. 

but besides all that...i really did feel like...this show captured the beauty and essence of what makes star wars actually good. the themes of good versus evil, a lot of stuff between siblings (bro....the twins and lop and ocho FUCKED ME UP), choosing to have brighter and better days ahead (the village bride, the ninth jedi, the duel, tatooine rhapsody)...like, i really loved how each episode really took everything that was good about star wars and just turned it into something even more beautiful. this series will stay with me for a long time, i think--and i am very grateful for the people involved in this project for reminding me why i fell in love with this universe in the first place. :”)