#me: cracks my knuckles and prepares to write up a character's

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. ix

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chapter summary: “When you're born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not.” - Richard Kadrey, Aloha from Hell. But maybe it's about to be. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 5.0k chapter warnings: HEAVY ANGST. Panic attacks. Referenced death of a parent. References to abusive/neglectful parents. Complicated sibling/familial relationships. Alcohol consumption, smoking. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: I know it's annoying, but the thing about me is that I’m never able to write compelling things if I don’t include complex family/sibling relationships. Like I’m so obsessed with putting them in everything, even my stupid little love stories. But it does serve a purpose, I promise. There is an important character in this chapter….just saying.

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

-September 15, 2003-

Joel can sense that something is off with you the minute you get home from work. 

For starters, your voice sounds a bit too syrupy-sweet when you come through your garage door, and chirp out ‘Hey!’ when you spot him sitting on the couch in your front room, your cat curled up on his lap. 

Just ten minutes earlier, he’d let himself in, using the spare key you’d given him and Sarah. Your house felt vacant, dark, and shockingly quiet without you there, and so he’d turned on the lights, put on a record, and washed the plate, two mugs, and a bowl that were sitting in your sink. 

Joel stirs, and Martini immediately jumps off his lap as though he’d personally offended him in some way. “Hey, darlin,” he stands, accepting your affectionate kiss on the cheek. “How was your day?” 

When you pretend you don’t hear him, that’s the second thing that tips him off. You turn to hang your messenger bag over the hook in your front closet. And then you flex your fingers like you’re trying to stretch them out, cracking your knuckles one at a time with your thumbs, and rolling your shoulders back before heading into the kitchen and gesturing for him to follow. 

“Do you…uh….do you want something?” you turn your head slightly, but not enough to meet his eyes. “Let me get you something.”

He follows after you tentatively, remaining silent until he figures out what's going on. Martini, who was walking underfoot, scatters out of the way as your heels click over the tile and retreats to a safe distance alongside Joel, who pauses to lean against the threshold. 

Even despite the clear tension in the room, he can’t help but check you out. Before, Joel wouldn’t say that he necessarily had a type, it still is a little shocking that he ended up with someone like you. 

Before you speak again, you retrieve two lowball glasses out of your cabinet along with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, and pour two drinks, turning to offer him one. He accepts it cautiously, and you nod at him before taking a long pull of your drink. 

“So uh,” you say. “There’s something I kind of need to talk to you about.” 

You take another sip and then unbutton your blazer, shimmying out of it and tossing it over a barstool. Pushing the sleeves of your blouse up to your wrists, you cross your arms and chew on your bottom lip, like you are trying to decide how to break some sort of horrible news to him. Joel prepares for the worst. He racks his brain for anything he could’ve done or said recently that might have upset you, maybe even scared you off. But he’s coming up with nothing. What could he have done? 

At this point, his parents even know about you, even if he hasn’t had the chance to introduce you. His mother tries, in her I’m-not-prying-but-I’m-definitely-prying type of way, to get more information out of him. She asks him questions like ‘Do you think she’s the one?’ and he doesn’t answer directly but it does make him think. He already knows you’re his one. He just wonders if he is yours.

It’s consistently been his fatal flaw. Joel falls hard, even when it’s not right. It’s how he has always been, and that’s how he ended up alone with Sarah in the first place. The very thought of you ending things makes him feel sick. He knows he’s in love with you, that he doesn’t want to look elsewhere. It’s becoming harder and harder to hold back. You’ve filled up all this space in his life that he didn’t even know existed. What is he going to do with it once you leave? 

“What’s going on?” Joel asks, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as pinched as his throat feels. 

“I should’ve told you this earlier,” you begin. “But….my dad has been sick the past few months.”

“Oh,” Joel says, but relaxes just a little, which feels a little selfish because it’s still unfortunate news. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m not really sure. Just…my brother called me today and apparently he’s taken a turn for the worse. The doctors…they think he doesn’t have that much time left. I…I need to go see him, I think. Before…” you don’t finish your sentence, you just shrug and look down. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah no, it’s fine, I’m fine,” you say dismissively. “I actually booked a redeye that leaves tomorrow night. I wanted to make sure I could still take Sarah to the office with me for her career day and everything, so you don’t have to worry about that. So yeah.” 

“Do you need to leave earlier?” He asks. “She can always come to work with me.”

“No, no…” you give a soft smile. “I made a commitment, and….I want her to see how boring my job really is.”

Joel wants to smile back at you, but he doesn’t. Because despite the jokes, when you meet his eyes for a second, they look so dull and desolate it feels like it’d be inappropriate. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” Joel sets his glass down just as you pick up yours for another hearty gulp before continuing. “I got my company to approve me working remotely for two weeks. I don’t think it will be that long, but…I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Joel reaches out and rests a hand on your own.  “You should go be with your family. Sarah and I will be fine.” 

“I know that. I just…I don’t really want to go,” you say. “But I’ll feel bad for the rest of my life if I don’t…and at the very least, I need to be there for my brother. He’s closer with my dad than I am.” 

Bringing the glass back to your mouth, you take another sip – at this point, the drink is nearly gone. Joel steps behind you, because he can’t really hug you the way you are now, facing forward and bracing yourself on the countertop. “Come ‘ere,” he murmurs softly, pulling you back against his chest. For a second, you tense. It’s like you’re surprised, still, that all he wants to do is be gentle with you. Once you remember, he feels your body relax, and your head falls back to tuck under his chin, one of your hands clutches his arm that wraps across your collarbone. “I wish you could come with me,” you say. 

“Me too,” Joel says against the top of your head. He knows he can’t. Not with Sarah, and not with work being the way it has been. Unfortunately, the excuse probably wouldn’t go over well with the guys there. Not that he cares that much what they think, but he can’t jump ship right now. “But I’d have to find someone to look after Sarah….maybe I could ask my parents.”

“No,” you shake your head.  “No, no. I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Everything will be fine.” 

“Well at the very least, do you need me to take you to the airport?”

“You’d endure rush hour traffic for me?” you tilt your head back to look up at him. 

Joel laughs softly, leans down for a kiss. “That and more.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 17th, 2003-

The room you’re in is dark, but the lack of awareness of your surroundings seems to be the only thing keeping you from suffocating. You’re standing in your childhood bedroom, which doesn’t look much like it used to. It's a guest room now, but it never really felt like yours all the way, did it? You clutch at your stomach – you’ve been nauseous ever since your plane touched down at JFK – and reach towards your old dresser to steady yourself. 

The vanity that had once been scattered with trinkets and trophies and photos of childhood memories was now vacant – pristine and polished. You wondered if the items had been thrown out, or dumped in a box somewhere in your old closet. It almost doesn’t matter – you aren’t interested in digging up any more memories. The feeling of your fathers hand clasped around your own had done enough.

You inhale deeply, bracing yourself against the glass top as you try not to throw up or pass out. For some reason, you had underestimated what you were walking into, and hadn’t expected your body to react so….viscerally.  On the other side of the closed door, you hear your name, muffled from down the hall.

It’s hard to make out who it is, perhaps your stepmother, Meredith, or some other distant relative you hadn’t seen in years who had crawled out of the woodwork and now lingered in the apartment, hoping to get their piece. But you’ve locked yourself away. That’s what you had gotten so good at whilst living here. Hiding. 

Until the door opens, and you squint against the light that floods the room to find the only person who has always known where to find you. Your brother. 

“Hey. Ethan and Elizabeth are on their way up,” he says, then pauses. “Why are you standing in the dark?” 

The lightswitch clicks, and the harsh ceiling lamp illuminates, starting the fan up with it and causing you to shiver. Vincent is frowning, standing halfway into the doorframe, his brows pinched. 

You widen your eyes at him. Come on, don’t give me away yet. “Will you please turn that off?” 

Vincent rolls his eyes, but obeys, switches on your desk lamp instead and closes the door behind him. “Are you okay?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know that you aren’t.

“It was a lot…being in there with him,” you look at the floor. 

“Well, at least you know he still likes you. He’s not going to take you out of the will.”

It feels like a smack across the face, and your jaw drops. How could he be so oblivious to your pain, when he’s the only person in this house, in the world, maybe, who understands exactly how you are feeling right now. “Is that all you think I care about?”

“No, I-”

“I’m here because of you,” you say. “You wanted me here. So I came, and I shouldn’t have.” 

“Oh come on,” he says. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“I wish I wasn’t here,” you continue on, despite his wishes. “I wish I didn’t have to wait my entire life to hear him say those things.”

Vincent’s expression shifts. He had been in the room. He had heard it. Your dad had been so….sweet. Gentle. Whispering praises even though his eyes were closed. You had expected, had wanted cruelty. This was somehow worse. Maybe he had known what you wanted all along, held it over your head, and waited only until the end of his life to give it to you. Even his admission of love was somehow malicious. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from regretting everything you’d done to get away from him.

Just outside the door is the flight of stairs that leads to your father’s room. And suddenly you aren’t an adult. You feel as helpless and as scared as you did when you were just a little girl – looking up at him, the view of his figure obscured by your brother’s shoulder. 

“God, it’s so fucked up.” you choke out. 

Vincent steps forward wordlessly, pulls you into a hug, and it’s only after you hear a quiet sob leave him that you let your own tears fall. There’s nothing either of you can say to fix the damage that has been done, so all you can do is cling to each other and cry. 

“I know it’s fucked up,” he says. “I know. Maybe I should’ve….I could’ve done more.” 

You pull back, relieved to see your tears didn’t ruin his cashmere sweater. “What could you have done?” you ask, dejectedly. “We were kids.” 

Vincent doesn’t know how to answer that, but he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, and looks at the ground a moment before lifting his head. “We’ve got each other.” 

But that’s hardly true anymore, and he knows it. You’ll always resent each other for different reasons – he had adapted to the circumstances, and you had left them. Neither strategy did anything to fix the damage. 

You’re still weeping, but softer now, face wet with tears that fall everytime you blink. Swiping under your eyes, you sigh and attempt to compose yourself. 

“Come on,” Vincent says. “Say hi to Ethan and Elizabeth. Dad is stable for the time being. We can take a walk or something. Get some fresh air.” 

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll be out in a second. I have to get my shit together.”

After he leaves, you check your makeup in the vanity, wiping away some smudged mascara before following him out. When you enter the front room, still sniffling, you pray that you don’t have a run-in with any other family members. But the only person you see besides Vincent is your sister-in-law coming through the door. 

Elizabeth’s face is pinched in concentration as she tries to wrangle your nephew out of his coat. “What up, champ?” Vincent holds a hand out for a high five, just in time for her to free Ethan’s arms so he can reach towards his father, who stoops to accept his hug. 

“Hi, Daddy.” 

Elizabeth steps back and makes eye contact with you as you approach. In the past, you pitied her for the decision to marry into your family and then go on to have children with your brother. She was a little too good for him. But now, you feel like that was kind of a callous way of looking at things. You wonder if your brother would feel the same way about Joel for getting mixed up with you. Fortunately, Joel is still a well-kept secret. 

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Elizabeth says. “I’m so sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“It’s alright,” you accept her hug and return her kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She looks down at her son. “Honey, do you remember your aunt?”

“Hey, Ethan,” you crouch alongside your brother, and he nods, but still side-steps closer to his dad and smiles over at you bashfully. “How are you doing?” 

“Good.” 

“Don’t be shy,” Vincent encourages, but your nephew doesn’t seem interested in your attempt at an embrace, so you let them drop by your side. 

“It’s okay,” you stand up, feeling a fresh batch of tears threatening their way to your waterline. Ethan’s treating you like a stranger because you basically are one. 

“You’ve met a lot of new people the last few days, haven't you?” Elizabeth asks, then looks over at you. “He might be a little overwhelmed. He’ll warm up.” 

Vincent stands at the sight of you starting to cry. “I am going to take her to get some air,” your brother puts a hand on your shoulder, speaking about you as if you are not in the room with them. You feel so useless, you might as well not be.

“That sounds good,” Elizabeth says. “We can catch up later. I ought to say hello to Meredith.” 

You both nod, stepping into the hallway. 

The fresh air helps, even if you can’t go far from the apartment. You walk around the block in silence, which gives you a chance to compose yourself. It’s a surprisingly warm day, although it’s much colder in New York than it is in Austin this time of year. In early fall, the leaves have only just begun turning. 

You’re about to turn the corner to the stretch of sidewalk that leads back home, when Vincent plops himself down on a bench without warning. He fishes through the front pocket of his jacket and retrieves a flask. 

“Jesus, Vincent,” you mutter under your breath. “Right now?”

“Uhm, yeah,” he answers. When you scoff, he continues, rolling his eyes. “Oh, get off your high horse. It’s just a little.”

“Aren’t you sad?”

“Of course I’m fucking sad,” he defends. “But I go to therapy now, so….I’m better at processing.”

“Yeah?” you gesture towards the flask. “Is that what this is called?”

“No. But it is the only way I can deal with Meredith.”

“You’re insane,” you say, but can already feel your exasperation fading. In your absence, he’s been dealing with all this alone. “Give me that.” Reaching forward towards the flask, he jerks his hand away just before you make contact. 

“I’m not sharing.”

You pout at him. Come on. He rolls his eyes and passes it over. “Fine.” 

While you take a sip, he produces a pack of cigarettes and plucks one out of the carton. “You don’t smoke these anymore, do you?” 

“Not really. But I still have not managed to kick the weed habit.”

“Well I’m jealous,” he says, lighting it. “Now that Elizabeth and Ethan live with me again, I really have had to get my shit together.”

I’m sure you’ll fuck it up soon enough, you’re primed to say, but even as a joke, you feel like it’s a little too mean. It’s okay to let this be a nice moment. 

“You know, if you wanted,” he says. “You could stay here for a couple months. I can get you set up with a place in the city. It might be good to be home…after…” You do your best to ignore his reference to the inevitable storm that hangs over your heads.

Any other time, and the offer might tempt you. This is your home, always would be, and you will always feel called to it. If you came back, all your family and childhood friends would be here. And without your father, things may be different. But now you have other priorities. “I can’t do that,” you shake your head. 

“Why not?” He asks. You sit down on the bench, swipe the pack of cigarettes from where they sit between you, and take one for yourself. “Didn’t you say you were approved to work remotely?”

“No, it’s not that,” you light the cigarette and take a pull, coughing when you inhale too deeply. It’s not a joint. “I actually….met someone.”

Vincent frowns like he doesn’t believe you. “Really?”

“Yeah….he’s actually my next door neighbor.”

“Oh, you managed to wrangle a fucking cowboy-”

“How many times have I told you? I don’t live on a farm. You know what? Nevermind,” you roll your eyes, shake your head. “Forget I mentioned it..” 

“Relax, I’m joking. Always so emotional-”

“Emotional? Emotional?” you ask. “Remind me which one of us was the one who had to be sent to a-” 

Vincent’s eyes roll back, and his head tilts with them. “Oh, here we go.”

“It’s not a joke to me,” you say, desperate to end the argument, and it actually works. 

“So is this….serious?” 

You shake your head. “I mean, I…I think I’m in love.” It’s not as insane to say out loud as you had expected.

“I didn’t think you cared about that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t either. But…I don’t know. It just sort of happened.” 

“What’s his name?”

“Joel,” you say. “He’s got a daughter, Sarah…she’s sweet. So is he…hardworking, thoughtful, kind….” you trail off, and veer away from becoming too sincere.  “In other words, he’d fucking hate you.” 

“Yeah, you know I repel the honest type.”

“No,” you correct him. “I actually think you’d get along. And you’d like Sarah. She’s funny.”

“I’m sure you’re a great influence on her,” he quips, sarcastically. 

“I’m good with kids. I’ve always been a good aunt to Ethan?” you insist. “....when he knows who I am, at least.”

Vincent chuckles. “He knows who you are, he’s just in a shy phase. That or I’ve already fucked him up.” 

You’ve heard some variation of the same from Joel while talking about Sarah, and it makes you smile, just a little, and wonder how terrifying it must be to have a child of your own. 

“You couldn’t,” you tease. “Elizabeth wouldn’t allow it.”

He nods as if you’ve made a good point. “So that’s it? You’re really never coming home?”

“I mean, never say never,” you say. “At the very least, I should probably visit more often. I could bring them sometime to meet everyone. We could try to be a normal family.” 

He wrinkles his nose. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Only your brother could find a way to make you laugh even under such dire circumstances. For a while, you’re quiet, and then you speak up again. “Being in love….it’s fucking scary.”

“That’s part of it,” he says. You sigh, shake your head, and put out your cigarette. “I’m happy for you,” he says, after a while. 

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’m happy for you, too.” 

Despite the fact that your stomach still hurts, you’re sleep deprived from the flight, and your father is standing at death’s door, you are thankful for what feels like a huge step forward. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 19, 2003-

Joel’s hand stretches out to stop whatever thing is ringing in his ear at such an ungodly hour. His phone. He doesn’t even think, just answers it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers it might be important.

“Hello?” he grumbles. 

“Hey,” He can tell instantly that something is wrong. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t check the time.”

Joel looks at the clock. It’s six in the morning for you, and he’s never known you to be an early riser. He already knows what you’re going to tell him, but he asks anyway. “Yes but it’s alright. Are you okay?” 

“My dad is gone.” 

“Oh, baby,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shockingly stoic. “It will be okay. I just, I wanted you to know I’ll be staying longer than I thought. I’ve got to help my-” you clear your throat. “I’ve got to help Vincent with the arrangements and then my dad wanted his ashes scattered somewhere in Colorado. It’s where he grew up, so I’ll probably go there before I fly back, and-” You keep rambling, and Joel cuts you off. 

“Hey that’s fine, that’s okay. Don’t you worry about that.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna miss your birthday,” you say. “I had this whole thing planned where I was gonna take you and Sarah out to dinner, and it was gonna be really nice and-” 

“We can celebrate another time,” Joel insists. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, so quick it sounds like a reflex. “I knew it was going to happen, so...” 

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t want to push you, but it’s very clear you’re holding something back. 

“Yeah, I…” you trail off. “I don’t know.”

Joel doesn’t answer right away, just gives you a little space to process. The silence is excruciating, and lasts so long that he wonders if you’ve hung up. But eventually, you speak again.

“I don’t….I don’t feel anything,” your voice breaks, all strained and choked and horrible. “I feel like I should.” You’re hundreds of miles away, and Joel has never felt so helpless. “Something….something is really wrong with me. I can’t-” 

“Babygirl,” he hears himself say, doing everything he can to calm you down. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He hears you take in a sharp, staggered inhale on the other line, struggling to catch your breath. “I wish you were here with me.”

Me too, I wish I was too. He wants to say, but all he feels is panic, tight around his throat. He feels like if he can’t get to you, something horrible will happen. What had he been thinking, letting you walk into this alone? Things must have been worse than you had let on. “Maybe I can try to figure something out.”

But almost as quickly as you lose control of yourself, he hears you clear your throat, a hard swallow. “It’s….it’s…it will all be fine. I will be okay, sorry, I just…” Joel can’t tell if you’re answering him, or if you’re talking to yourself. 

Joel knows the routine pretty well at this point, each time you show any sort of vulnerability, you immediately pull back – like there’s some invisible boundary you’ve crossed that snaps you back into place if you test it. He’d be able to actually help you if he was there. In some ways, you being so open with him, but only over the phone….makes sense. It’s just another way to avoid him.  He won’t resent you for it, but it doesn’t make him hurt any less. 

“What can I do?” Joel asks. “I’m worried about you.” 

“I’ll be fine, Joel. I promise,” you sniffle, clearing your throat, pulling yourself together. “I’ll be home soon and everything can just…go back to normal.” 

“Yes, it will,” he says. “You’ll get through this. And you’ll come home to Sarah and I. I’ll have a martini and a back rub waiting for you the second you walk in the door. 

“God,” you say. “You’re so hot.”

Joel chuckles, relieved to hear your smile. 

“You know,” your breathing steadies. “I would like you and Sarah to come out here. Not now. But another time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I was thinking about it. My brother has plenty of room. We could crash here, and you could meet everyone. I mean, Vincent comes across as like….such an fucking asshole, really, truly…but I don’t know. I think ultimately you’ll get along.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel breathes softly. 

“You just have to promise you won’t leave me if you don’t.”

“That wouldn’t make me leave you.” It’s you I love. He’s not going to tell you that over the phone. So he settles. “You are what I care about.”

“I feel the same,” you say softly. 

You’re silent for a spell. 

“I probably should go and eat something. I’ve felt awful for like three days straight and I finally have an appetite. And there’s really no problem that can’t be solved by a bodega sandwich.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll feel better if you eat something.” 

“I will call you later, okay?” you say. “Thank you, Joel. I miss you, and I’ll see you soon.”

“I miss you too,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you soon.”

See you soon. For the next few days, everytime you call each other, every conversation ends with the same promise. Neither of you are aware it’s one you can’t keep. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 26th, 2003-

Joel sits in the front seat of Tommy’s car, and tries to hide the fact that his hands are shaking. There’s blood spattered on the front of his shirt, blood that didn’t belong to him. He’s done a lot of things to protect Sarah. To protect his family. He’d used that turn of phrase, that he’d kill for them, in passing, but never actually thought he’d have to do it. He did. He did. And he’s suddenly scared of what else he might be capable of. 

He does not want this burden, to be a protector, but he has no choice. It has been his entire life. First an older brother. Then, a father. It’s worth more than his own peace, than his own life. He would sacrifice that every time if it kept his family safe. 

And you, too.

He’s only just now looking down at his phone, trying to block out the noise of the voices on the radio that cut in and out of static. And it’s not because it’s broken. The world he knows is crumbling, he’s freefalling towards the earth, and he’s gotta grab the only things that matter or they will perish upon impact. 

Sarah says your name from behind him. “Do you think she’s okay?” 

It’s the first minute he’s had to think since he arrived at the prison to bail out Tommy. He has several missed calls from you and one voicemail. He doesn’t even think to listen, just immediately tries to call you back. 

“I don’t know, babygirl.” The phone doesn’t even ring. Sarah’s hand falls to his shoulder and he squeezes it tightly, hoping she can’t feel that it’s still trembling. Joel has no cell service, and none of the calls are going through even after trying several times over.

Joel looks down at his watch to see what time it is. It’s working now, thanks to Sarah, who had told him that she’d got it fixed at a place you had recommended before you left. It’s delusional, but he hopes maybe this isn’t happening in Colorado. You’d called him this morning to wish him a happy birthday, things had been fine then. How could it all fall apart so quickly?

He accepts that he can’t reach you, and listens to the voicemail you’ve left.

“Hey Joel, I….something is going on here. I don’t know if it’s happening everywhere. People are sick. It’s….it’s…If I don’t see you again I hope I- I want you to know that I love you. Okay? You and Sarah. Thank you, Joel. Please…please stay safe.”

I love you, too. Why didn’t he just say it when he had the opportunity to? What had he been thinking?

Joel tells himself that this is not the end. Things will settle, even if it takes time, and you will keep yourself safe. You won’t get sick. All the promises you made to each other will be kept. Even as he tells himself this, he knows it’s probably a lie.

Still, he indulges. Things will go back to normal. As long as he keeps himself safe, he’ll find his way back to you again. It’s just a matter of time. 

But his hope for the future, for anything else, dies an hour later.

-

-

-

[clarisinne]

hi there claris!

you inspire me a lot artistically, and recently i’ve come to the conclusion that my biggest goal with my art journey is to make a comic. but, it seems so daunting! i was wondering if you had any tips or tricks for things you do to make comic-drawing easier, more coherent, etc. i hope that makes sense? i’m just, interested in your process. thank you :D

I'm honored you think of me as an inspiration and you'd reach out to me for advice! Cracks knuckles this will be Long

Alright so first off I want to address the "daunting" aspect: it doesn't need to be! It's only daunting if you feel it has to be good good from the get go, but it doesn't! I actually recommend fucking around for the first few chapters god knows I did if you couldn't tell just to stay relaxed and positive

From a drawing perspective:

do not confine yourself and express yourself freely. If this means your characters change art style in the middle of your series, so be it! Harvey and Cringefail look so different in part 1, they will probably look even more different in part 200 or whatever, who cares!!!

I also want to prepare you for this: making a comic means you will be drawing a LOT. a lot lot. a looot lot lot. I'm personally insane and can do it for up to 14 hours a day but i do not recommend it. This ties to my previous point, drawing a lot = improving faster, so of course your art style will change and that's fine, actually do not focus on art style at all just do what comes natural

Writing-wise:

keep your notes app at hand because you will get random ideas in the middle of the night. Write down what you got, but remember you do not need to be faithful to it, and if you're anything like me you'll change things up a million time until it feels just Right.

Re-read your comic often (not all of it necessarily but at least the last few parts) and you'll get a clearer idea of where it needs to go. I usually know there's some "milestones" ahead and I adjust the pacing according to how I feel it should go, inserting filler scenes that will still be significant for character growth or for establishing some kind of element you might want to address later

For ideas: brainstorm, talk to the wall if you don't have a friend or s/o to torture, talk in your car

Generally speaking, youuu basically have to find what works for you. I openly struggle with OCD and when I give in to it I get NOTHING done as you can imagine. When I let go of control that's when I actually get some juices flowing, I need quite some wiggle room to actually feel relaxed enough to make art, it turns out!! If I feel like I have to stick to one art style, or to one plot line in one way I decided a few weeks ago I just get stuck. I need it messy and chaotic and unplanned

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Craving Ice Cream

@jayalaw

Summary: Set after Httyd 2. Hiccup has a craving and Astrid wants him to voice it.

Warnings: Pregnancy

Rating: General

Words: 546

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Valka

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Author's Notes: Written for a request because I got an ask on Tumblr a few days ago telling me that they loved my Pregcup fics the day after I posted two, so I made a post asking for requests and this is one of them. Really enjoyed writing this one!

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

“I…” Before he dares to finish his sentence, Hiccup closes his mouth and presses his lips together, wondering if he should finish.

It’s not quiet in the house, Tuffnut and Snotlout are in a heated discussion with Fishlegs about something while Ruffnut watches and instigates wherever she can. Gobber and Valka are in the kitchen. Eret stokes the fire and Astrid sharpens her axe. But when Hiccup decides to speak, they still hear him.

Curled up around him, Toothless lifts his head to look at his Rider and Astrid stops her sharpening to gaze at her husband, the fur of her hood still damp from the falling snow outside. She was chopping wood until minutes ago. Devastating Winter is steadily approaching and they need to be prepared.

“Finish that sentence, Babe,” she tells him, already using a more motherly tone even though the baby isn’t even here yet. The baby that grows in his womb.

Somehow even more dramatic in his pregnancy, Hiccup opens his mouth again to speak, hands up to animate, only to sigh, drop them on his quiet belly and lay his head back on the dragon he sits against near the fire. Toothless snorts at him, which gets him a look as Hiccup wipes at his face.

He’s seven months far, which means he’s getting quite round by now even for a tall and skinny lad such as himself and they can expect the baby to come in the middle of the most devastating time of the cold season. It’s why the other Riders are here. Because they’re about to get buried by snow inside their homes and they want to be here when the first of a new generation of Dragon Riders is born. And they want to help where necessary.

“Hiccup.”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“What’re you craving?” Astrid asks. If he says it’s something stupid, it’s almost always because he’s craving something. And his new appetite, that was something he needed to get used to.

Looking over his shoulder at her, he takes a moment to consider it. How badly is he craving? “... ice cream.”

“That weird invention from the twins?” Snotlout asks, now standing nearby after having torn himself away from his discussion with Fishlegs when he grew too annoyed.

“Uh, weird?”

“Try “genius!” At that comeback, the twins high five.

“Weird how exactly?” But Hiccup takes offense, crossing his arms and glaring up at him. He feels a hard kick inside of him, like the baby agrees. When Snotlout feels a lot of eyes on him, he notices that almost everyone seems to share Hiccup’s sentiment. Especially his soulmate and life partner.

“How would you like your ice cream?” He asks, deciding that is the only way to avoid invoking Astrid’s wrath. She’s been very protective of her husband ever since Gothi confirmed their suspicions. Which is also the reason why she just needed to hear him utter a single vowel before jumping on his case.

“Good boy,” Valka praises his change of mind before disappearing into the kitchen again, Gobber guffawing a laugh from within. And the twins crack their knuckles, deciding to make a batch for their craving friend.

Needless to stay, he got his craving satiated with a bowl of ice cream.

[call-me-copycat]

Heyoo, I hope your having a great day/night!

Congratulations on 400 followers!! That's a great achievement right there 😁

I was wondering if I could join your writting event? If so, can I please ask for a "Pick a Prompt" for number 8, the characters being present mic and a f!reader? (as in "xreader")

It can be romantic, but can you please avoid any drinking/sexual themes?

If not, it can just be platonic!!

Wish you the best!

Hello! Thank you so much @bingewatchintilldawn for requesting for my writing event! I'm so glad you're here ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧

I'm so sorry for the delay, I do hope you enjoy! Sorry for any grammatical errors as well, it's a little late where I am right now, so I'm a little tired ‪(´•ᴗ• ก )‬՞ ՞

Request for my writing event!

Slot Chosen: Pick-A-Prompt 1

#8: "Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?"

➜ CHARACTERS: Mic & Fem! Reader (Platonic - I'm sorry, I didn't know how to write this off as romantic)

➜ Word Count: 2230 [I got a little side-tracked with this one, I hope you don't mind (ㅎ.ㅎ ) ]

➜ WARNINGS: Mentions of food, I believe that's it

Students chattered amongst themselves as the day passed by, with conversations ranging from light-hearted compliments, to angered rants, to teasing taunts and the scoffs that would come from the receiving end. It was a relaxing day, one that you were grateful for since that usually meant that there wasn't much work for you to do.

Glancing at the small stack of papers that needed to be organized and stapled so the class can receive them the next day, you sighed before cracking your knuckles and getting right to work.

One might begin to think you were a teacher at UA, what with all that you do, but that wasn't exactly what you were. While you weren't a teacher, you were a teacher aid, tasked with helping and following the orders of whichever teacher called upon you for the day.

It seemed you were doing something new each day, whether that be helping out Snipe with rearranging his books for history class, or answering the students' questions when Eraserhead was sleeping, or even dashing throughout the halls to get a folder to Nezu. It's one of the many reasons why you enjoyed your job so much. Not only was it interesting, but the people were also quite amusing as well. Some more than others.

That was probably the reason behind why you were always offering to help assist Present Mic with his class, often enjoying the thrill of his funky attitude and excitable demeanor. Kind to everyone and ever so intriguing, you felt it was just a little easier to talk to him at times. He wasn't very judgemental (then again, neither were any of the teachers really), and could hold and start any conversation with anyone with ease if he so wished.

Oftentimes a couple of his students would stay behind in his class during lunch and eat there, enjoying the jokes and conversation their teacher brought. It was only a plus to it all that he never really required you to do much work for him. While it seemed he wouldn't be one to do much work or preparing, you couldn't help but notice how each morning a newly stacked pile of papers were always printed and stapled before everyone else had even started. Or how you never had to help grade any papers since they'd all be finished the same day they were turned in. It was one of the many things he never really spoke about but still quietly did in the background.

Thinking back to that fact, you smiled as you found yourself once again not needing to do much work, the stack of papers thin and simply needing to be stapled in groups.

"Sorry it's a bit much today! The printer wasn't workin' on me, so I'm a little behind today. Oh well! Ya live ya learn!"

Turning to the voice coming from the door to the classroom, you smiled as you saw Mic walking through, work bag and a folder in one hand and a water bottle in the other as he fumbled with the door. After getting up and helping hold the door open, you smiled at the "a-thank-you" that you were given as he walked by.

"It's not much really, did you need anything else done today? Or is that it?"

He placed his work items down as he waved his hand at you, "No, no! That's all for today! No need to overwork yourself, I'm no Eraser!", he laughed, enjoying his jab to his good friend while you shuddered. Aizawa was much more strict, and wasn't always keen on having a new face around. While he did have his moments of leniency, they were often overshadowed by the stacks of paper given to grade, or the number of times you had to run down the halls to fulfill the errands he had asked. No, he was indeed no Eraser.

The day ran smoothly, with schoolwork being handed out and students being taught. It was something you hoped you'd reach one day. Until then, being an assistant wasn't too bad.

Debates were common occurrences in his class, seeing as he taught English after all, and not only did they commonly happen, they were sometimes encouraged. 'It's good teaching material', he had told you as the students discussed the pros and cons of having heroes advertise products. There were times when they had to be shut down though, sometimes provoking the wrong kind of passion in the students. And when screaming matches occurred, there wasn't a single soul that challenged the Voice Hero.

UA was certainly a one-of-a-kind school. All the teachers there treated you as an equal despite your lower profession, and each had a unique spark to them. Midnight always loved having you around for her art classes, though there were times where you couldn't handle the risque attitude that she radiated. Vlad was much more professional in a sense, but that never meant be didn't enjoy a good conversation every now and then.

You learned that during breaks Snipe loved to play cards, and that Midnight loved to challenge anyone in anything. Lunch Rush appreciated having company whenever he was cleaning, and Recovery Girl loved to have someone to listen to her stories about her past work. It was a tight-knit community, and although everyone ran under the same set of rules, it couldn't feel more familiar.

-

The bell rang for lunch, signaling the day to be half-over. Resorting to mindlessly doodling on a piece of paper at the teacher's desk could only ever get you so far before it became redundant. You normally sat at Mic's desk since he rarely ever sat still, always up and walking around the class, or up and down the length of the chalkboard when the students were taking a test. Even then he wasn't completely silent, settling on whistling some jaunty tune he either made up or heard somewhere.

With the class being dismissed, all the students left for the cafeteria for the day, leaving you and Mic to eat your lunch in the teacher's lounge for the day. It was only when you entered that you remembered you had left your lunch at home.

Turning to Mic, who was whistling that same tune to himself once again as he flipped through his planner, you spoke up.

"Hey, I forgot my lunch today at home, do you mind if I run down to the cafeteria to pick something up real quick?"

This caused him to look up, but before he could say anything, a woman's voice cut him off.

"You can have my lunch, honey. I actually just came from the cafeteria so I don't need it."

Midnight walked the rest of the way in and held up a little tray that she had gotten for herself from Lunch Rush. "I couldn't resist, he made my favorite today so I had to go down. Take whatever's in the fridge, I should've left my bento in there from yesterday"

Nodding, you smiled and thanked her as you rummaged through the fridge, finding it empty except for a single bento box in a plastic bag. It didn't look homemade, but rather store bought as the box still had the price sticker on it.

"I'm gonna head off to the office, I need to work out some typos on an assignment before I print it out. You okay with staying here?" Mic questioned as he packed his things and headed to the door.

"I'll be fine, you can go if you need to" Was your answer as you ate your lunch, the bento being an oddly simple one that just consisted of three compartments; one for rice, one for beef, and one for pickled vegetables.

This was the best photo I could find, I hope it helps (=ﾟДﾟ=)

It wasn't something you were used to seeing Midnight eat, as she normally picked bentos that mainly consisted of vegetables, and her go to protein being fish. It was new, but you didn't question it.

Once lunch was finished, you checked the time to see you still had about 20 minutes left to yourself. Taking advantage of what time you had left, you decided to go give Mic a visit, tired of sitting alone in the lounge as Midnight had only come by earlier to grab a cup of coffee.

However, you nearly bumped into a figure that was entering the lounge at the same time you were exiting, the deep "Watch where you're heading" giving you a clue as to who it was before you even saw him.

Looking up and meeting eyes with Aizawa, you hastily apologized and went to leave, only for a single sentence to freeze you in place.

"Who ate my lunch?"

Aizawa was crouched in front of the communal fridge, frowning at the empty shelves before slowly turning to look at where you were frozen in the doorway with one foot out.

Hesitantly, you slid your eyes over to him. As soon as your eyes met you panicked and quickly scuttled out of the lounge, giving him the answer to his question and causing a chase to form.

Dashing throughout the empty halls, you immediately spotted Mic walking down in the opposite direction of where you were headed, casually chatting alongside Cementoss.

"Hey, [Name]! So nice of you to stop by- Whoa, whoa, whoa, why the rush?!" He questioned as you quickly made your way over to him, only to position yourself right behind him and attempt to use him as a human shield of sorts.

Just the same, his question was answered as an annoyed Eraserhead stomped his way to where the three of you were standing.

"I just want to talk to her-"

"It wasn't me!" You retaliated, trying to weasel yourself out of this mess.

"Okay, okay, why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?" Mic was beyond confused, having been forcefully tugged into the situation.

"She ate my lunch, that's what she did" Aizawa answered, an agitated tone to his voice. "The one day I actually bring some food to eat, and it's gone"

"N-no, I... "

Aizawa raised an eyebrow and silently waited for your answer, never one to raise his voice or cut someone off to argue. His belief was to just let the person try and fail to explain themselves, causing them to dig themselves into their own hole without him having to retaliate.

Mic then thought back to what Midnight had told you earlier, suddenly understanding what had occurred.

"Ah, man, it looks like ya caught me Shouta"

You, Cementoss, and Aizawa all turned to look at Mic with a confused expression, the situation growing even more complex at the sudden confession.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued, "I'll pay you back, promise, just don't go blaming her. Y'know, maybe you should've labeled your lunch in the first place, then we wouldn't be here, now would we?"

Aizawa scowled at his friend's cheeky tone, throwing his hands in the air. "You know what? I'm not going to stand here and argue about the food." Turning and beginning to walk away, he muttered just loud enough for you all to hear, "I'm going to take a nap, don't disturb me"

You watched Aizawa's retreating figure disappear down the hallway, possibly to his class, and turned to Mic. He spoke before you could get a word out, "Now that that's taken care of, let's get back to work, shall we?", right before bidding Cementoss a temporary goodbye.

Walking down the halls, you still had to ask him why he had taken the blame, especially knowing he'd be getting an earful as soon as school got out.

"Oh, none of that! No need to get so worried about me, I've been annoying everyone here since I first started working." He slipped one hand into his pocket as the other held a folder and a clipboard for his teacher-ly duties. "Did I ever tell you about the time I put plastic wrap across the door frame, only for Nemuri to walk right into it?" He laughed out loud as he spoke, clearly enjoying the memory that was brought back to him.

"Man, she was pissed! I had to hightail it out of there if I wanted to see the next morning sunrise! Y'know, I ought to ask her if she remembers that, cause I sure do! "

You chuckled alongside him, happy to have such a kind, yet intuitive coworker... No, friend. Yeah, it was nice to be surrounded by such charismatic people you could call your friends.

There was just one thing you needed to do.

-

Aizawa scowled as he walked through the halls towards the teacher lounge, hoping that at least no one stole his rice koji packets. Those were strictly his, at the very least.

Honestly, this was my best guess as to what it is that he eats ┐⁠(⁠‘⁠～⁠`⁠;⁠)⁠┌

Opening the fridge though, he was met with a surprise.

Inside was a plastic bag with his name on it, in handwriting that was clearly not his. Opening it revealed the same bento he had bought from the store, only this was a new one. Alongside it, was a note:

"Sorry for eating your lunch. I didn't know it was yours. Hope this repays for the mistake.

Till next time, [Name]"

Aizawa smiled.

He knew it was you the whole time.

Thank you again for requesting! I really appreciate you taking the time to do so! Please have a lovely day ( ⑉¯ ꇴ ¯⑉ )ﾂﾝﾂﾝ

*A little side note: I think writing for Present Mic is actually very fun. I love his character a lot! ʕ ◦`꒳´◦ʔ

[yaut-jaknowit]

I did know we could ask about your OCs! I would love to know more about Gawtin 🥺🥺🥺 is there any headcanons or backstory you can share that won’t come up in one shots 👀

Did people not know this?! Of course anyone can ask about my characters. Actually, I encourage it! Make me write more about them. Make me get up and actually use my brain to figure out their stories.

I already have some information about Gawtin written. I use this wonderful app called Campfire to help keep my stories in order. Specially The Monarch.

Alrighty *cracks knuckles* Buckle up, I've got some history for our loving Yautja.

Her full name is Gawtin Yot Vernt-oilq. She's left handed and prefers to use a crossbow for her main weapon. Though, you don't get to see her fight often since she stays home. But, when hunting for food, she'll bring it out.

Positive Values: Loyalty, self-control, determination, persistence.

Negative Values: meanness, abrasiveness, upfront, unnmercifulness.

Very Confident. Like, how could she not be. This is Gawtin we're talking about.

She's more in the middle for extrovert-ness and introvert-ness. Like, she's not a hermit but won't put herself out. If she's invited to go somewhere, she'll join you. Only leans slightly towards extrovert but still closer to the middle for those two.

She comes in at a whomping five hundred and seventeen pounds without any armor or clothing. It helps when she's 8'8, easily towering over any human she comes into contact with.

As for her tribe/clan, she's part of the War-ak'ox. Don't ask me how to say that because even I don't know. Before I forget, I pronounce her name like Guh-jaun-tin. It is a made up name so, the way you say doesn't matter to me.

We all know she has her current child Qui-oki that you helped slightly through the pregnancy. She's also has sixty-seven children throughout her life. I would probably say about half are still alive. A high number for Yautjas.

Her mother's name is Mother Ma'tan-Aih. She was part of the council of the tribe. Gawtin didn't follow her steps but is still thought as a high member of the tribe due to her mother (who is still alive).

As for her age, she's four hundred and seventy-nine years old. About middle life for a Yautjas life span if they're not killed. She knows you won't grow old with her but she'll have to watch as you wither away. She prefers quality time for a reason, prepared for the day you leave her to join Cetanu. But she'll do everything in her power to increase your life span, even if it's for a day.

That's all the information I have written down for her. I have more about her than the boys combined. If you or anyone has any questions about any of my OCs, please, please shoot a DM. I love talking about them. I also love that you guys enjoy them maybe more than I do!

If there any grammar mistakes, please ignore. I just typed this up in the middle of the night and I'm too tired to check. Plus, words get mixed up in my head. You all have probably realized this by now... and English is my native and only language. Ugh...

[hiatuswhore]

♕ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥—ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ sɥʇnɹ⊥

♕ A/N: Hey all! Thank you so much for all the feedback it is a great motivator and always makes me smile. I am really enjoying writing this and I already have a vague idea of where I want it to go. Keep in mind we only have season one of HOTD and will not being getting season two for a while so I am going to try to incorporate the plot of the book with my own ideas. I do not have a set number of parts for this mini series yet. If you cannot make out the title it says The Prince and The Street Rat—A Game of Truths. I introduced a new character, I am picturing Daniel Sharman but that’s because I am in love with that man. Also who are your favorite characters, I LOVE older Rhaenyra (young her was cool but I feel like older Rhaenyra is such a mood. Anyhow enjoy, and tell me what you think!

♕ SUMMARY: The world works in mysterious ways and so does the residents of Kings Landing. One never knows what they find in the alleyways and rooftops. Whores, drunks, knights, thieves, sometimes even Princes.

♕ WORD COUNT: 4.5K

♕ WARNING: Cursing, Violence, Sexually Suggestive. HOTD Spoilers.

previous — Masterlist — next

Aemond did not return the next day or the day after that. You busy yourself with work from Mysaria, listening to the whispers of the King’s failing health. Viserys the Peaceful, what a joke. Everyone but seemingly the royal family prepares for the pending war.

You sit at your window, staring mindlessly at the rain that falls from the sky. The darkness looms over the city, the annoyingly bright torches of the castle teasing all who reside outside of it. Yet, where the darkness meets, the light lies in the perfect view of your window. An almost mercurial design.

The door opening does not phase you. The silver-haired Prince slowly enters his steps across your room, filling the silence.

“Quite a long conversation with your mother,” You scoff, ignoring his stare as he stands to your right.

“Much came up. I’—“ Aemond's nonchalant tone makes your jaw clench.

“Too busy to at least pass a message of assurance?” You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, near seething as a grimace holds your features.

“(Y/n) you are overreacting,” He says. You stumble back as your eyebrows furrow. His demeanor contradicts the previous conversation. “There is no war coming.”

“Dammit, Aemond, you let her do it again! So what, your mother said all would be well, and you just believed that?” You gawk, shaking your head as you watch him sigh.

“(Y/n)—“He sighs, rising to your feet as you pace, cracking the muscles in your knuckles.

“Aemond, your life is the last thing I have ever desired,” You whine. His hands capture your own with a patient stare. Neither of you says a word as you squirm beneath his gaze.

“I’ve come with your gift,” He says, revealing a forearm-length box. The top’s identical to the one from his mother. A stillness captures the room as you eye the box wearily before accepting it from his hands. You open slowly, gaping at the lustrous glow of the metallic. The handle carved skillfully into river-like ripples, paying homage to your bastard status.

“I—this is beautiful, but we must discuss—” You huff. Aemond merely takes your arm, disregarding your words. He guides you to the fireplace, careful to not reach too forward.

“Heat it up,” His tone’s commanding as he studies your face. You frown, chewing on your bottom lip as you turn toward the fire. The blade reveals fiery red lines forming intricate patterns. “Do you like it?”

“Aemond, you’re dodging my questions,” You suck your teeth, dropping your shoulders as he drops his gaze. His silence makes your stomach churn as you fail to blanket your despondency.

“(Y/n) it is only a dinner,” He says, his eyebrows furrowing as you run your hands down your gown.

“In what world do I agree to this willingly, Aemond?” You say, leaning down to capture his gaze. Despite the scowl that paints your features, Aemond says nothing. A pregnant pause follows; pulling away from him, you place the dagger on your desk. Back at your window, you sit, your legs bouncing incessantly.

“I really tried, but mother insisted. She expects you present in a week’s time—in the gown, she gifted you,” His shoulders fall at his wide with a doleful look in his eyes. He watches as you visibly sink, your mind stuck in an endless loop of the Red Keep corridors.

“You promised. No royal drama,” You swat away his hands, your eyebrows knit together.

“You’re impulsive and an over-thinker. A painfully dramatic combination. This dinner shall be easy for you—smile and drink,” He reasons. You scold yourself for knowing better than to befriend a Targaryen.

“Dramatic is an exaggeration. You are protected by your title. I am merely a bastard. So my worries are reasonable,” You push at his arms, frowning. “I have nothing that protects me.”

“I’ll protect you,” He says, squeezing your hand.

“Aemond,” You say, tilting your head, and he mirrors you. A dry chuckle leaves him as he says you worry far too much. “You worry too little. If I’m doing this, I want something in return.”

“A comfortable room, coin, perhaps safety and security?” Rolling your eyes at his jest, he chuckles before asking you to name your price. Biting the inside of your cheek, the high possibility of war unnerves you more than you dare to share with Aemond. Nevertheless, you mutter, you will get back to him on the topic as you inspect your new dagger. The weight’s unlike your cooking knife you keep handy.

“I could kill you, you know?” You say, inspecting it closely—a tired smile taking your lips. He pulls your other chair by the window, scooting closer as his finger lazily traces your knee.

“You could try,” He says. Leaning back, you turn your gaze to the fire. His eye stays on you, the soft hum of the fire giving you an ethereal glow.

“A bastard dining with the royal family. That’s something you don’t see every day,” You chuckle dryly, but a hearty laugh booms from Aemond.

“There was a time when I saw it every day,” He says, and you meet his eye rolling your own. You swing the dagger between your fingers easily, wearing a blank stare as Aemond watches you. The rest of the night continues in a quiet hum. You are uncertain when Aemond left or when you even climbed into bed. The following day drags without a word from the one-eyed Prince.

You stop by Daltis’ stand to find his son, Cayde. A smirk tugs at your lips, seeing the large metal crate in his hands.

“Lift me next? “You say, leaning on the wooden stand. Cayde chuckles, shaking his head, placing the crate down. “Just you today?”

“Yeah,” You nod, grinning ear to ear. Cayde unloads the crate behind the stand carefully. Amusement dances in his eyes at your mischievous smile.

“Where’s your royal shadow?” He asks, crossing his arms. He towers well above you.

“Why, jealous?” Then, tilting your head, you wet your lips.

“Of a Targaryen? Never. I like my simple life,” He scoffs. His eye travels from your tunic to the dagger on your hip. Shaking his head, another chuckle leaves him, “What can I do for you (Y/n)?”

“I need to talk to your Dad about traveling to Pentos,” You say, casually earning a frown.

“Does your shadow know about that?” He asks. You scoff, placing the usual rate for the travel arrangements on the table.

“Does it matter? I’m coming back. I’m looking to leave in two fortnights,” Cayde grabs the coins from the table, raising an eyebrow. He nods his head, pursing his lips. You pull back from leaning on the stand, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Are you coming to Goran’s tonight?”

“Yeah. First round on you?” You walk away before he can continue. Despite your departure, he calls out, “First round on your Prince!”

Back in your room, you stare at the box beneath your bed. Aemond’s absence and a long time before meeting with Cayde leave you with your thoughts. Removing the gown from the box, the room proceeds to flip as you foolishly put it on. The front detailing’s meticulous, revealing a sliver of your chest. Clover-like patterns bind the slit, almost hiding it from view as the sleeves reach your wrists, and extra cloth hangs beautifully from your elbows. A walking message to Rhaenyra and her family—a pawn.

You nearly rip the dress as you struggle to remove it. Hastily fumbling with the clasp as though it burns your skin. Then, back in your tunic and pants, you abandon your room to the best seamstress you know. Daltis’s wife. Taliya welcomes you warmly into her home. You mirror her expression seeing many of Cayde’s features from his mother.

“Mother, I’m going to meet—“Cayde trails off at the sight of you. His mother stands holding a piece of thread around your midsection.

“Alright, dear. I will have it ready, I assure you,” Taliya says, taking your hands with her own. The corner of her eye crinkles as she smiles at you.

“You ready?” Cayde says, grinning ear to ear. He waits to follow you out. The night sky greets you both with a soft hum of nightlife chatter. People drink, laugh, and fuck unapologetically through the streets. You both navigate the crowd with an unflinching calm. “Hey, should we be worried about the succession? I don’t know how much your friend tells you.”

“Honestly, I am uncertain. Aemond blindly listens to his mother, who stays blissfully ignorant of all that is to likely come,” Cayde matches your pace perfectly. The torches set an orange glow beneath the night sky.

“I do not believe he likes me very much,” Cayde says, raising an eyebrow as a laugh leaves your lips.

“That is just Aemond. Ignore him,” You say, turning down an alley. The sound of loud music fills the dirt passage. Cayde knocks three times before Aryn’s face appears at the door. He gives you both a once-over before opening the door.

Cayde orders the first pitchers of ale as you both settle at a table. You listen intently as he explains his concern for the safety of King's Landing. You both speak over the music, just enough to hear the other.

“You are not alone in your fears,” You confess, placing your hand on his. He sips his drink, eyeing your hand. Your eyes scan the room—a woman laughs obnoxiously on a man’s lap as they speak with others sitting around them. A couple dances lovingly by the musicians, and the bartender moves at the speed of light to keep up with the growing crowd.

“What’s in Pentos?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You pull back, taking a long sip of your ale.

“You know the rules of this business. No questions outside of the necessary,” You say. Taking another sip, Cayde rolls his eyes. “Shall we play our game?”

“I’ve known you most of my life. What more could we possibly not know about each other?” Cayde questions, a grin growing on his lips as mischief dances in your eyes.

You sit up on your knees and narrow your eyes at his nod. Your gaze softens as your lips part, “You fear taking over your father's business.”

“I told you this; that’s cheating!” He says, shaking your head; you remind him he told you his father's intentions, not his own feelings.

“Drink,” Your smile widens in delight as Cayden begrudgingly brings his cup to his lips. You lean forward again, your ‘focusing’ stare pulling a chuckle from Cayde’s lips. “You—“

Trailing off after a few seconds, Cayde grins victoriously, “Too long, drink.”

You roll your eyes, raising your cup. He backs you into a corner with his first two questions, leaving you to drink for both. You both ping pong for a while, others within the room virtually disappearing. A mop of messy white hair pulls you both back into the room. Wearing a grin, he lazily blows a strand of hair from his face. The heavy bags blend seamlessly with the bloodshot of his eyes.

“What’s a place like this doing with a girl like you?” Aegon’s question earns an eye roll as he fills your pitcher with the contents of his own.

“You likely put the poets to shame your grace,” You raise an eyebrow as he closes his eyes, near shuddering.

“Say it again,” He coos, grimacing as you bring the pitcher to your lips and meet Cayde’s gaze. His knuckles turn white around his cup. Aegon opens his eyes, grinning near maniacally. He turns to Cayde, lifting his cup and bumping Cayde’s. “Come on, you two, I wanna play your little game. I’ll start—you two fucked.”

Neither of you moves as the Prince’s gaze bounces between you both. He chuckles darkly, reminding you both of the rules. After several seconds you bring the cup to your lips. Cayde hesitates before doing the same, an obnoxious laugh leaving Aegon.

He tauntingly mimics your tactic, narrowing his eyes at Cayde. The two lock in a silent stare before Aegon looks forward. He lets out a laugh as if he remembers something, “Mhmmmm. You’re in love with her.”

“I’m done playing,” Cayde’s baritone voice fills the silence as he slams his cup, rising to his feet. Your eyes flicker to Cayde, who glares at the unfazed Prince. The music stops as all around you watches. You lay your hand on your dagger as your heart pounds. Cayde heads for the door, halting as Aegon’s voice fills the silence.

His deviant smile gone, now wearing a chillingly calm demeanor, “Finish the game. You’re in love with her.”

Cayde’s back faces the both of you, and you glare at Aegon, who ignores you. He grabs Cayde’s cup holding it out as he turns back. Cayde snatches it from his hands, eliciting a quiet gasp as you watch him lift it to his lips.

“And you’re afraid my stiff—rather taciturn little brother will find out and rip you out, root and stem,” You rise to your feet before a word can leave your lips; he roughly grabs your face. He turns to you, his eyes boring into your own as he reveals nothing beneath his surface. “I am giddy with the news of your presence at court. No longer Aemond’s little discretion.”

“Enough,” You swat his hand away, tilting your head as he eyes you. Cayde storms out as Aegon sits back down. You stand gobsmacked as the entire room watches you. Swallowing thickly, you follow after Cayde, abandoning the tavern. The passageway to the streets reveals a blur of faces, but none of them are who you are searching for. You opt to return to the Inn Keep, uncertain what to say to Cayde after the night’s events.

You are sure Cayde avoids you avidly, the days following without seeing him. If Aemond knows of your time in the tavern with Aegon, he says nothing. The day of the supper arrives like a looming storm cloud.

You lay on your back, fiddling mindlessly with your coin pouch. The green gown sits beneath your bed, still in its box, awaiting the hour the Queens summons begins.

Sitting by the fireplace, Aemond pauses on his page. Re-reading the same section for the fourth time, his eye lands on you. Still fiddling with the coin pouch with an absent focus. Your nose crinkles, the skin crawling sensations pulling your gaze to the wayward Prince. His aloof expression and clenched jaw meet your furrowed eyebrows. Snickering at the face, he bares for the public.

“Your dramatic smolder-glare thing may work on others. But how can one expect me to be afraid of you when I know you cry like a blubbering baby,” You chuckle. He tilts his head, raising his eyebrow and sighing as you roll your eyes. “I’m rather nervous.”

“Are you? I never would have noticed,” Aemond hums, and you scoff, rising to your feet. You pull your riding pants off, rubbing your skin in mint oil. As the hour draws near, you know you must begin preparing. The crackling of the fire fills the silence. You sloppily unlace the tunic turning to Aemond, who almost stealthily averts his gaze.

“Certainly not Aemond the Honorable,” You tease, slipping on your nightgown. He fails to hide his sheepish pout while avoiding your gaze. Finally, he mutters sorry, earning a chuckle. “You wonder why I giggle when you intimidate people. If they only knew. Now you must go. I need to get ready. Do not start. Ser Barlo will escort me.”

Aemond chews his bottom lip in silent contemplation before rising to his feet. He stares at you, and you raise your eyebrows as he appears ready to speak; his lips part for a second before shutting.

“I will see you at supper,” You nod your head, grinning to yourself. At the window, you wait until his silver strands shine in the sun outside your window. Then, deftly abandoning the widow, you retrieve the Targaryen box beneath your bed. Supplanting the dress with a satiny blue gown from the crown's coin.

Your advent to the hall disseminates a silence as an orator announces your late arrival. The clench of Aemond’s jaw and the droll of his eye leaves you smirking at your machinations.

“My apologies for my tardiness, your grace. This invitation is a very high honor. I put much effort into an appropriate appearance to offer reverence to your statures,” You curtsy with perfect precision ignoring all the eyes on you while holding the Queen’s gaze. Her frayed smile contradicts her warm tone. She has you sit between Helaena and Aemond.

“That is a very lovely dress,” Helaena breaks the silence with a giddy smile. You return her fervor by mirroring her expression before taking a sip from your chalice. Across from you, Otto Hightower eyes you unabashed as you match his stare. His cold look matches his stern features—akin to Aemond’s observant nature. Helaena closely inspects the neckline of your gown, “The ripple detailing is quite beautiful.”

“Thank you, Princess. I thought it would pay great homage to my upbringing in such a foreign setting,” Your eyes cut to Alicent, who freezes down at her food. You turn back to Helaena, entertaining her inquisitive nature of your life beyond the Keep’s walls.

The room fills with steady chatter as you find yourself, much to Alicent’s chagrin, exchanging stories with Helaena. The Princess covers her lips as she struggles to contain her giggles as you describe Aemond’s struggle to climb your rooftop home. A frown captures you as her giggles immediately dissolve. Helaena stares forward in a sudden stupor. Beneath the table, her hand grabs your own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“For only water can withstand the beast. Pride will drain it dry,” Your eyebrows furrow as she releases your hand, turning forward with an airy smile as if the last few seconds never came to pass. Whether the others ignore it or do not notice, you shrug off their ignorance.

“Princess—“Your whisper drowns away as the King rises from his chair. He removes his mask, revealing the decaying beneath, pleading for his family to come together. You find yourself fiddling beneath the table; glancing at Aemond, you avert your gaze as he watches you. Princess Rhaenyra rises to her feet, raising her cup. The King reattaches his mask with the help of his wife as his oldest child toasts to the Queen. While studying each of their faces, your gaze cuts back to Aemond. This time unrelenting at his commandeering stare. A common thread linking them, all of them fractured beyond repair. The King, wreaking glue that binds the lot of them. You cover your sigh with a sip of wine at the Queen’s toast, a meaningless gesture.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips, blanketing it with the clearing of your throat as Prince Jacaerys slams his hands against the table. Aegon returns to his seat while Aemond rises from his own, and a stillness accompanies the tension. You bite at your potatoes, meeting Otto’s easygoing gaze—no longer cold and calculating. He offers you a half nod, neither of your reacting to the brewing hostility. It’s almost as if you are the only two who understand the inevitability on the horizon. The Prince offers a tribute, uncertainty lingering as all resume sitting. You glance at Helaena with a frown as she whispers about beasts beneath boards. Once again, no one around the table acknowledges her.

“I would like to toast, first, to our guest (Y/n). You are as lovely and kind as my brother detailed. I desire more of your presence at court,” Helaena beams down at you as the table watches you. Offering a wry smile, you glare at Aemond’s amusement as all sip their cups. Helaena turns with a smile, “Also, to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad he mostly just ignores you—except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

The King calls for music as you finish your wine. Prince Jacaerys offers his hand to Helaena, and the two abandon the table to dance. You nearly flinch as the younger Velaryon holds his hand at your side. He smiles sweetly, and you ignore how Aemond grits his teeth at the sight.

“My aunt is right. Your dress is lovely, my lady,” Prince Lucerys says as he guides you comfortably from his brother and aunt. You tower him by several inches, chuckling softly at his words.

“Thank you, Prince Lucerys, but I am no lady,” You say, falling in sync; you both jump opposite each other twice before locking arms.

“While that may be true, that does not incline me to treat you any less than,” His smile almost infectious as his genuineness shines. He misses how your own smile falters. How is this the same boy who took Aemond’s eye? The Velaryon Princes grin as they skillfully switch without disrupting the pace.

“My lady,” Jacaerys says, spinning you carefully as he pulls you an appropriate distance back. His hand ghosts cautiously near the small of your back. “Is this alright?”

“Of course, Prince Jacaerys,” You force a smile on your lips as your mind tries to make sense of your juxtaposed understanding. Jacaerys chuckles, insisting outside the ears of formality to only utilize his name. Chuckling softly, everything said beyond his request fails to reach you. How are they the monsters of Aemond’s youth? Jacaerys spins, returning you to his brother, who greets you gleefully. You cannot fight the giggle that bubbles in your throat.

“May I?” Princess Rhaenyra appears at your side, ruffling her son’s hair as he steps back, bowing respectfully.

“It has been a pleasure, Lady (Y/n). You are an excellent dance partner. I hope to find you at the next,” You curtsy, glancing at his mother, who beams at her son the same way Taliya does at Cayden. Disregarding the twist in your chest, you clasp your hands in front of you.

“We shall, Prince Lucerys. I am many things. Never an oath breaker,” Lucerys returns to his seat as his mother leads you further from the table, “You honor me, Princess. I deeply admire the prospect of a woman on the Iron Throne.”

“Thank you, my dear. Your support, as well as others, mean everything to my claim, but I come to you not of politics but regarding Ser Harwin Strong,” Your smile falters as her words as she locks your arms, and the two of you circle each other. Her resolve softens as she manages to keep you both on tempo, “He cared for you deeply, and I fear I have failed in maintaining his desires for your well-being. If you ever need for anything, dear girl, know you will always have a place with my family and me.”

Before you can process her words, the music halts at the King's pained groans. Guards carry home back to his chambers as you and Rhaenyra return to the table. At your seat, Aemond sits with his body turned toward you—his gaze bouncing from his eldest sister to you. Silence sits between you, and neither of you moves to break it.

The kitchen servants appear around you, carrying a giant roast pig in front of you. You stare at the roast fighting the urge to glance at Aemond, who willfully ignores its presence. Beneath the table, you reach out in search of his hand, but instead finding his knee, you awkwardly rest it there. You look up, meeting his gaze, and despite the music, the room almost silences around the two of you. The moment's brief, snickering rips you both from the calm. Lucerys’s laugh reaches across the table as he deliberately glances at his uncle. It’s nothing short of child-like stupidity—cruelty. You squeeze Aemond’s knee as he stares at his nephew, failing to draw him back to you.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” He trails off as if he imagines the fire he will light, his condescending tone sending an eeriness across the room. The Queen calls out Aemond’s name in a warning tone, but it does nothing to stop her son from playing with unspoken tensions, “Strong. Come, let us drain our cups to these Strong boys.”

You gaze at the guards that line the walls, their hands ghosting on the hilts of their swords. Then, at Jacaerys’ challenging tone, you slip a dinner knife beneath the table cloth, casually sipping your glass, “Why? It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

The sound of Jacaerys’s fist against Aemond’s face sets off many moving parts. Prince Daemon grabs Lucerys, who rises to his feet as you shift right, stopping Aegon from lunging for his nephew. Unfortunately, you cannot see all that occurs behind you as Aemond lets out a dry chuckle. Aegon glances down at the knife that halts his movements dangerously close to his crotch. A smirk takes his lips as you raise an eyebrow at his amusement.

“You only grow more interesting with time, lady (Y/n). But, if I may, your presence only grows the hunger for what some call my salaciousness,” He whispers, grimacing; you retract the knife and your close proximity as the guards defuse the tension.

“I do hope you are prepared to starve, your grace,” You grit your teeth as Aegon grabs your wrist, pulling you back in. The others blindly focus on the Velaryon Princes, who struggle against the guards holding them back. Aegon chuckles, tormenting you right beneath Aemond’s nose.

“Make no mistake (Y/n). I will have you. This game of cat and mouse only makes it more exciting, wouldn’t you say?” He wets his lips, scanning over your features with a heady stare. You rip your arm away, watching as he drinks in your lack of subservience. His dark machinations for your body reflect in his eyes as he studies every inch of you. Finally, you rise to your feet, grimacing at the Prince, garnering the attention of the Queen. She frowns, her eyes watching her eldest son with wistfulness.

“(Y/n),” Ser Barlo appears at your right, holding out his arm to escort you home. Aemond’s no longer in sight, and you do not look for him. Ser Barlo says nothing as you grip his arm tightly through the corridors, your head nearly spinning as you do your best to hold your composure. Only back in your room do you allow the quiet sobs to rattle your entire being. Ripping the dress from your body fervently, gripping yourself as you watch the gown burn in the fire. Silently cursing yourself for ever wearing it—for allowing yourself to fall in the clutches of the dragons.

[trollprincess]

Okay, so some of you might not know this because I did this before I returned to Tumblr from the bird site, BUT. Last year I dictated almost two entire books to my phone.

Let me explain. One of my jobs is a twelve-hour weekend night shift. Six PM to six AM Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, so thirty-six hours with the other four hours paid just as long as we do the entire weekend. I first took it so I could have the rest of the week off, and then proceeded to go back to work at dog camp those days. For the most part, over the last five years, I have only have Mondays completely off solely because that’s when my therapy sessions are.

Anyway, my weekend job is full-time, dog camp is part-time. The weekend job is factory work, making helmets, a lot of which are for the military. (Which, as a pacifist, I manage to stomach because hey, it’s just protective gear.) The thing is, like a lot of manufacturing work, it’s boring and repetitive. Think about how bored you are after five or so hours of an eight-hour shift. Now imagine it’s one o’clock in the morning, you still have five hours to work, and you would literally rather shove nails in your eyes than work. It sucks.

Meanwhile, my free time is spent trying to work at my third job (making @disasterarea-podcast) and attempting to work on getting published. I had all these grand ideas about getting traditionally published back in my twenties, and now I’m 46 and I’m struggling just to come up with any ideas at all a lot of the time. Three jobs doesn’t help. Depression and anxiety don’t help. So for a while there, I had terrible writer’s block when it came to my novels.

So last year, I decided to try something. I have these massive baby-pink noise-canceling Bluetooth gaming headphones with a mic which I wear to work. Why not try dictating a first draft to my phone? Obviously it wouldn’t be exact, since voice-to-text dictation isn’t perfect under the best of situations, and certainly not with loud factory noises around you. But I tried it on dictating notes for my podcast a few times and it worked pretty well, all things considered. And a bad first draft is still a first draft.

So I figured, fuck it, and one night I just started dictating a story off the top of my head. No preparation, no outlining, no worldbuilding - just pantsing HARD with nothing but an annoyance following a Teen Wolf rewatch and a resolution not to edit until after I churned out a first draft.

It took fifty-one days.

Eighty thousand words or so later, I had a dreadful first draft which needed an absolute fuckton of editing and continuity correction and character work. BUT I had a finished first draft of a novel. Which is something I hadn’t had in a good long while.

So I tried it again for NaNoWriMo. I got up to 65k words. So I won NaNoWriMo, but I put the story aside because I hit a bit of a wall. Still! That’s almost two full fiction manuscripts in one year, AND the nonfiction memoir I wrote about my road trip to disaster sites during the pandemic. 2022 was a good writing year.

So I did what I do with first drafts and put them aside for a while. I knew they were awful. I knew they needed a ton of work. And maybe that was a tad intimidating, which is why I only JUST picked up the NaNoWriMo first draft to work on it and finish it off. It’s queer, it’s got time travel, it’s got disasters. It is right up my fucking alley. I may be just a tiny bit obsessed with that story.

Unsurprisingly, going through it now is taking more than a little while. I sit down, I spend an hour working on it, I maaaaaaybe get two paragraphs polished. If that.

But the fact that I’m working on ANY fiction is kind of remarkable. And fingers crossed, maybe I can get this damn thing, and the other manuscript, AND my road trip book, finished and polished over the next year so I can submit the fuck out of them.

NOW. Someone send me a twenty-pound bag of rooibos vanilla chai and ten pounds of red licorice laces. Mama’s gonna need it. *cracks knuckles*

[scarletsaphire]

tell me about kit!

*cracks knuckles* You have fallen into my trap. Prepare to hear about the singular best character that has ever been created.

Kit Baxter, also known as the Flying Squirrel, is the sidekick to Canada's greatest superhero, the marvelous masked man known only as the Red Panda from the radio show Adventures of the Red Panda. She is also his chauffeur for his secret identity (which remains secret even to the listeners for most of the show.) One other important bit of context is that the show is set during the great depression in Toronto, Canada, so life kinda sucks ass a little bit.

Kit is a first generation Russian immigrant, her father ran a boxing ring and taught her to drive. She's quick witted and quick on her feet, can throw a mean right hook, and drives better than most other people in the city, which earned her a spot as a taxi driver. Panda ended up in her car in his Secret Identity, asked her to drive (recklessly) to a crime scene he wanted to stop, and she, obviously, refused. She wasn't going to be running around like an idiot for some rich asshole. Panda than waved some money in her face to try and get her to listen, and what did she do? She said no, because she isn't some trained dog that'll bark for some rich asshole the moment he gives her a bone. She'd rather go hungry tonight than do that kind of shit for him, and if he's gonna act like he doesn't even know what manners are, he can get the hell out of her cab. (Once he says sorry and asks nicely, than she puts the petal to the metal.)

She's also like. So smart and cool and good with people, she's a jokester and flirtatious (mostly with Panda because she likes flustering him, its really funny) but she's allowed to be all of those things without ever feeling like "Oh she's just there to be the attractive side kick." Kit is very much her own person, its just that she happens to like being a thorn in Panda's side and sometimes that means batting her eyelids (and climbing up walls in a skintight cat suit).

Kit became the Flying Squirrel after, and I quote "I figured out your secret identity and then blackmailed you into letting me play." She cares so, so deeply about the people of her city, especially the people on the streets she comes from because she did not grow up in a nice area of town, and she is constantly trying to fight for the most vulnerable parts of town, despite many of them looking down on her as a woman, especially a woman in her field. She never takes anyone's shit, either towards herself or anyone else, and she is always ready to throw hands with someone she thinks deserves it.

(I'm going to be getting into spoiler stuff underneath the cut. I am asking so very nicely for you to listen to the Adventures of the Red Panda. They're on spotify here ad free, and you can also find them on their website decoderringtheatre.com along with all of their other shows and their audiobooks. It truly is one of the most impressive, fun, and thrilling stories I have ever read, watched, or heard, and it is Criminally Underrated. If you think this is even like. A Tiny Bit Interesting, throw on the first episode, its only 20 minutes, see if you like it. If you don't mind spoilers, or ended up not liking it, keep going.)

Something that I really, really like about Kit is how she's handled later on in the story, once we get into WWII. Her and Panda get married, and she ends up pregnant right as he ends up MIA (presumed dead by most of the world) and she is left to try and defend all of Toronto largely by herself with a child on the way and Archangel, a nazi spy whose manipulating p much everything, bringing havoc upon her city.

It would be super easy to let her fade into the background during all of this. It would be so, so easy to write her off as so many different things do as a mother and a wife and leave her at that. But they don't. She steps up as the mastermind behind everything, pulling the strings of their connections they've forged over the years, continues to fight in her suit until she physically can't anymore, working as hard as she can in and out of costume to make sure that her city, because with Panda gone (not dead. She never believes he's dead for a second and has and will fight anyone who says otherwise.) It is her city and her people and she will not let it fall to ruin. She will not let anyone else, Nazi or American or Canadian or anyone take her city from her.

Katya Baxter is a wonderful character who is just so, so funny and amazing and if anybody knew what the Adventures of the Red Panda were she would be an absolute HIT of a character on here. I love her so, so much.

[queen-scribbles]

— 10 Characters

I was tagged by @valkblue to play this game. Thank you for the tag, and sorry it took me so long to answer 😅(what I have learned from this is I gave my Pillars of Eternity girls lots of EXCELLENT dialogue) Also a lot are two characters to give context for the line or bc I'm proud of the back and forth(have I mentioned I love writing banter?)

Rules: pick up to 10 characters and share one of your favorite lines of dialogue you have ever written for them!

Tavi(Pillars of Eternity) in Deep Roots

Her eyes narrowed at the presence of kith, then flew wide when her gaze landed on Heodan. She physically recoiled, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “Aren’t you fuckin’ dead?” Apparently, in her mind, she had.

2. Cam/Liam (ME:A) in The Answer

Cam grinned and sat back on her heels. “Oh, so there was a plan that didn’t involve springing it out of the blue and almost givin’ me a heart attack?” she asked playfully. “I don’t think you wanna go there,” [Liam] shot back just as playfully, arching a brow at her. “Giving the love of my life a heart attack isn’t really a category where you have a leg to stand on, Camille.”

3. Jaaide (SWtOR) in Cracks 

 “If I’d opted for directness over subtlety and still failed to sway her, would my hands be clean enough for you?!”

4. Adi/Heodan(Pillars of Eternity) in a handholding prompt:

His fingers played along with hers, tracing soft lines across her knuckles and down her wrist. “I like listening to you talk.” A beat. “Especially about the things you love.” Warmth bloomed in her chest and sent a ripple through her fur. “Well, then.[...]Prepare to hear a lot about yourself.[...] Because there are few things I love more.”

5. Keme/Jorgan (SWtOR) in Got Your Back

“Thought-ah!-Thought I was the boss,” she joked, even as pain tightened her jaw[...] “Only when you’re not bleeding to death,” Jorgan growled. 

6. Janine(Wayhaven) in Jinx!

Adam had a very skeptical eyebrow arched by the time she finished. “Jinxes are mere superstition, Detective. They cannot cause you harm because they are not real.” “Says the vampire,” Janine shot back immediately with a grin and arched brow of her own.

7. Kayris/Atton(KotOR2) in Gamble

Kayris smirked teasingly at Atton. “We let him loose in a cantina, it’ll be anything but short.” “Hey, now,” he protested with a smirk of his own. “It’s not my fault a lot of people are worse at pazaak than alcohol makes them think they are.”

8. Endrali(SWtOR) in a kiss prompt

“Arcann. Aside from me getting to decide who ‘deserves’ me and I picked you, I fell in love with you, maybe it’s not about  deserve as much as what we have, and you” –she leaned in and kissed him– “have me.”

9. Ves/Kurt(Greedfall) in Wonder

“Someday I’ll figure what I did to deserve you,” he managed. “And I’ll happily reel off my list until it sinks in,” she returned quietly, sliding both hands forward to cup his jaw. “You are enough, Kurt. Just you.”

10. Bao-Dur in Old Habits

[Evony:] “Would you like some help?” “If you want, I know you like to tinker,” he said with a quiet laugh.  “But don’t feel obligated; I built it one-handed, I can fix it that way, too.”

(No Trinne or Harvey just bc there's SO MUCH I've written for them it would take forever to narrow it down, but I am v proud of their exchange at the Gnawed Noble in the most recent OWaP chapter and Harvey's "I love you more than always having [quiet moments] to myself" line in the Sunrise OC Kiss fill)

uhhhhhh just open tagging for anyone who wants to show off some writing stuff

[mewmewchann]

Sorry for the late submission, but the character theme song ask game: I have a whole list, but I’ll stick to the ones I really like that haven’t already been mentioned.

Last Stop by DoNotCrossP: I see this as a postgame Rantaro song as he leaves season 52 and heads towards season 53, knowing his memories are about to be wiped and he’s likely going to die in the next game.

Moonlight Densetsu: I definitely see this as a Kokoro song. Magical girls, romance, childhood nostalgia and shoujo manga/anime… if this isn’t Kokoro’s vibe wrapped up in a song I don’t know what is.

My Whole Family by Bo Burnham: Meme song for Haruto for… really obvious reasons.

Waiting in the Wings (Reprise): I THINK this was once mentioned as a baby Jasper song, but I personally associate it with Ayano more. Childhood neglect, yay!

LIAR DANCE by DECO*27: Saiko song. Admittedly mostly because of DFTH chapter 11. I kind of see it as Rantaro singing to Saiko, if that makes sense?

Hurricane from Hamilton: So a LONG while back you said Wait For It was a Saiko song, and after relistening to the Hamilton soundtrack I made the realization that Saiko is actually a Hamilton kinnie. …Seriously, think about it for a second and tell me I’m wrong. Anyways, I associate this song with the moment Saiko decides to kill Kaoru, since it’s sort of the same moment Hamilton decides to write the Reynolds Pamphlet: in an effort to secure their respective legacies, they cause their own falls from grace.

Magical Girl and Chocolate by PinocchioP: I know Kokoro had this assigned once, but I also associate it with Katsumi. I guess it’s because it kind of ties into her “atypical protagonist/I’m not your hero” thing? She’s not evil, but she’s no angel either, and she definitely prioritizes herself and Hide over everyone else (“I only want to protect the ones I love”).

Easy Easy Go by Pink Shark Music: Another Katsumi song, mostly based on vibes and the fact this song was originally made for a rhythm game (Superbeat XONiC).

Shoujo Rei by MikitoP: I know this is already on Hide’s playlist, but it takes two to Shoujo Rei IMO so if this isn’t also a Katsumi song I will riot.

Leave Them by LittleJayneyCakes: Hide song! I know I keep giving him really depressing songs (Montreal and God Must Hate Me), but in my defence he’s pretty depressed so it’s not like I’m WRONG.

Kira from Death Note The Musical: A Mastermind Rantaro song, because I really like your Rantaro and enjoy the thought of how thoroughly you’d have to break him to get Mastermind Rantaro. In my head, this is actually Monokuma singing about Rantaro right before V3 starts: he doesn’t really give a shit if Rantaro kills Tsumugi and replaces her as mastermind, he’s seen all this shit before, but he finds it entertaining nonetheless. Sort of like how people watch Hallmark romance movies even though they know exactly what’ll happen.

Finally, lightning rounds for Jasper and Naoki, because they both have several songs each and this ask is long enough already:

- Jasper: There’s A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered […] by Panic! At The Disco because this is just Jasper’s bullshit in song form, Higanbana Milk Tea by Vane because “fuck my dead parents”, Villain by Stella Jung because vibes, and Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off because this is just Jasper’s bullshit in song form again (and I can kind of see Rantaro singing it about him, if that makes sense?). Yes, half of those are already Slade songs but considering how similar those two are I think some overlap is justified.

- Naoki: Permission to Dance by BTS because I was playing Cookie Run during the BTS collab and now the association is just stuck there, Kick Up Your Heels because vibes/it’s another song about dancing and they’re the Ultimate Dancer, and Tangled Up by Caro Emerald (Lokee Remix) because it is the catchiest dance song ever and I love it to death.

WHOA OKAY THIS IS A LOT AND I LOVE IT

sorry for the super late response O

*cracks knuckles* now prepare for a longass response

Last Stop for DFTH!Rantaro

how have I not heard this song until now it is so underrated and such a mood what

But yes. This is absolutely PERFECT for his postgame mentality. I won't spoil what happens in chapter 6, but you're basically dead on here.

Moonlight Densetsu for Kokoro

well she certainly does fit the magical girl vibe teehee

My Whole Family for Haruto (meme)

When I tell you I choked-

Waiting in the Wings (Reprise) for Ayano

hmm. It's an interesting pick. I personally don't see it because of the Jasper association I already have, but it's an interesting pick.

(the Jasper association is mainly because I have a whole animatic mapped out in my head of this song involving him and Atsuki that just fits too well and I hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)

LIAR DANCE by DECO*27 for Saiko

oh this is an interesting one I personally associate it with Hotaru, but the parallels with Rantaro and Saiko's relationship are interesting ...And yes it was where I got the chapter name from I'M VOCALOID TRASH OK

Hurricane for Saiko

OOOOOOOOOOH THIS IS FUN I can see the parallels! The parallels are very juicy!

(also fun fact: Haruto did try to show Saiko the Hamilton soundtrack once and the moment it was over he said "...The songs were okay I guess but too many things were inaccurate")

Magical Girl and Chocolate for Katsumi

Hmm. I can see where you're coming from with this.

The main reasons I associate it with Kokoro is because of (at least how I read it) it being from the perspective of a jaded magical girl who used to see the hope of the world, before growing jaded and tired of it. And it just ties to Kokoro a lot to me because of that.

But the Katsumi read here is also very interesting ovo

Easy Easy Go for Katsumi

this song slaps what the fuck

Shoujo Rei for both Hide and Katsumi

Shoujo Rei fits Hope's Chains way too well.

...

And that's all I'm gonna say on that.

Leave Them for Hide

I'm crying now

Kira for MM!Rantaro

damn that's a name I haven't heard in a while

thinking of that whole thing is...Weird, given how long it's been and what I'm working on now, but it does fit.

Jasper lightning round

There's A Good Reason... - yes.

Higanbana Milk Tea - how have I not heard this song before this goes so hard

Villain - how do you have access to my "I need to animatic this" playlist

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - ah yes the iconic AMV song. Lovely

Naoki lightning round

Permission to Dance - yes. Also I love this song so much it's such a banger

Kick up Your Heels - this is absolutely their vibe yes

Tangled Up - this is also absolutely their vibe yes

WHOO this was a big one. Thanks for the ask, this was a lot of fun to do!!!

[thecrimsonwarrior]

Prompt by: write-it-motherfuckers on Tumblr

Person A: “Isn’t there some other way we could do this? Preferably one that doesn’t involve me being in pain?”

Person B: “Nothing with quite as high a chance of success. Just think of it as your punishment, or character building, whatever makes you feel better.” 

Person A: “....I hate you so much.”

Characters: Mazoga Durgat, Y’shtola Rhul, Alisaie Leveilleur, Urianger Augurelt

CW: Injuries, Blood

A group of four walked on towards the Crystarium. A Red Mage, a Black Mage, an Astrologian, and right in the middle of the group – a battered, half-conscious, shambling Warrior, propped up and assisted by her companions.  The group slowly made their way through the bridge and turned towards the infirmary. The operating table had already been prepared, and so the roegadyn was set down on it, and not without considerable struggle from everyone involved. „Gods, She’s so unbelievably heavy... „,Muttered Alisaie while attempting to flip Mazoga onto her back. „Huff... ‘Tis likely the armor our brave friend dons that’s at fault here...”, Responded Urianger, trying to catch his breath. „Alas, removing it out in the field would be very detrimental to Her state, dire as it is.” „Well, heavy or not, we managed to carry Her all the way here, haven’t we?”, Remarked Y’shtola while straightening out her dress. „The fact that She lived, and we’ve managed to safely cross the distance from Amh Araeng on foot is nothing short of a miracle.” She looked towards the chirurgeons entering the hall. „And now it’s time for them to do miracle work, too.”

The Scions stepped away from the table, making way for the medics, who immediately got to work. Mazoga’s body temperature was unnaturally low, and parts of her armor got frozen to her body. Careful removal all of the scale mail and fabric took about an hour of heating and careful scalpel work. Only then could the extent of the injuries be fully gleaned. Her abdomen, forearms and legs were covered in ice-cold, white patches that had a smooth, stone-like texture. A few afflicted spots were cracked, with a thick, golden ichor oozing forth from within them. All clear signs of Light corruption.

„By the Gods... She’s already so far gone. Healing magicks won’t work on these injuries anymore… Did... Did one of these bloody things get her?” “I’m afraid there isn’t much that we can do for your friend… We may only pray that her transformation won’t be too painful…”

Mazoga groaned and opened her eyes. Once she realized where she was, she tried propping herself with her elbow to get up. A sharp pain in her entire arm immediately thwarted that plan, she had to drop down. Wincing, she looked over at the chirurgeons, and then fixed her gaze on familiar faces standing further back. “Please, I’m fine. I just got bruised up a little bit more than usual. It happens sometimes. I just need a soft pillow to lay my head on and get some rest… I’ll be good as new tomorrow, I promise you…” Her voice was soft and meek; A far cry from her usual jolly, boisterous tone.

Alisaie ran over to the table and gripped its edge to the point of her knuckles turning white.

“You fool…”

Her breathing was irregular and her entire face was flushed.

“You godsdamned, reckless fool!” Her howl broke into a weep.

“I knew you would get hurt. I knew you were pushing yourself way too hard! How can you say such things?! Just look at the state you’re in! All these wounds, this affliction! You’re- You’re going to…”

She slumped to the ground sobbing, her head hanging down. Once again, Mazoga tried to get up to try and comfort the small elezen, when she felt a strong grip on her shoulder. Feeling a sensation of intense frostburn, she hissed and pressed her lips. Then, she heard a low, purring voice right next to her ear. “Don’t be ridiculous. Lay back down.”

She complied. Y’shtola’s grip eased, and now they were both making eye contact. Mazoga scrunched her brows and bared her teeth. “This was uncalled for.” She drawled. “And so is your stupid, unnecessary behavior. You’ve no strength to stand up, let alone walk by yourself, hero. Do you honestly believe a good night’s sleep will fix the overabundance of light aspected aether clinging to your very soul? You’re literally cracking under all this strain.”

Shtola’s voice was raised, yet stern. It was easy to tell that despite her rather harsh attitude, she was trurly worried for her friend. Mazoga took a deep breath and sighed. “What else am I to do? Every person here in this city, no, this entire world is depending on me. Who else but me can bear this burden? I can’t just lay down and wait as this… this disease takes over me. Not right now. Not yet. I need to fight. It’s how I live.”

Y’shtola completely eased her grasp on the roegadyn’s arm. She looked away, pursed her lips and stayed silent for a while, lost in thought. Then, she spoke in a soft voice: “…’Tis true that you are our finest. The only one who can even attempt to sacrifice themselves in such a way. But it doesn’t mean you have to do all of it without aid. Let me help you.” “…How can you even begin to help me?” “I’ve been thinking about it during our journey from the desert. It’s only a theory, and it’s quite risky, but… I could try and channel Darkness aspected magick into your wounds, similarly to how a Conjurer casts a healing spell. Hopefully this would reverse the effects Light has on your body, and allow it to mend. I won’t be able to fully cure you, however. Only staunch the bleeding for a while.”

Mazoga closed her eyes, briefly weighing her options. Then, she opened them to look at her companion again with a weak smile. “Well, It’s not like I have much of a choice right now. If there’s any hope left for me, I will cling to it. It’s just that… Do you reckon that it’s going to hurt?” “…Consider this your punishment for that display of bravado back in Malikah’s Well. Or just a test of your resolve. Whatever makes you feel better.” “...Hells take you, Shtola.”

[nanamis-bigtie]

*cracks knuckles*

Alright, we had a little slip because some dumb fuck (me, Bas) got sick as soon as new year started, but since I feel better, we can finally return to some normal blog activity 👀 Oh, how I missed it!

This year, while keeping the beneficial spontaneity, I want to set smaller goals for each month. Also as a way to inform you what is most likely going to happen 🤭

January Schedule:

Urgent: catching up with daily drabbles & continuing them, starting with the winter smut event, one time sensitive project Important: writing all giveaway works, remastering masterlist Also hoping: finishing at least one request from the last year & one or two from the new batch

I'm also working right now on stuff for @op-xreader-zine. Sadly, can't tell you what exactly it is, but just going through notes I prepared makes my ears burn 👀 I'm having so much fun with my assigned characters and topics, with each day I'm just more happy i gathered courage to join the team.

The applications for the zine are still open, btw, please consider, the project is super fun & the team is so welcoming!).

[selfboredom]

DAWNS COMFORT

summary :⠀It was five AM and Emin couldn't get themself back to sleep. Neither could their friend akari, it seems who came for a visit during the silent hour. It was meant to be for research help, but turned into some desperately needed comforting for Emin.

content warnings :⠀none

fandom :⠀pokemon⠀( legends arceus )

word count :⠀1570

notes :⠀this is my first fan fic ever, actually. I hope y'all enjoy it. I had a lot of fun writing it, although please tell me if I accidentally wrote anyone too out of character !⠀⠀and emin is a mostly non-verbal autistic, hence why they start out signing

        Emin stirred awake, peering through the cracked open blinds to the still-dark sky. They tiredly checked their arc phone to see the time. Five AM. They groaned and sat up on their futon. They couldn't prepare for a research excursion at this hour, but they also couldn't get back to sleep. Now they had a few hours to reflect.

Before they could begin their thought spiral, a quiet knock came from the front door. They rushed to attach their prosthetic leg and got up, stumbling their way to the door. Who else could be up this early? Captain Cyllene? they thought, opening up the door to the professor's assistant, Akari.

        "Hey, sorry if I woke you up. I need some help with my Pokédex." Akari said apologetically. Emin hummed and stepped aside, letting her inside before they shut the door. The pair sat down in the main room of Emin's tiny living quarters, and Akari pulled out her research notes.

        "I've been trying to do some research on Snorlax, but the only one I've found in the wild is that raging alpha. I know there's more up in the mountains, but the captain would never let us go up there. But I heard they've been appearing in those space-time distortions." She explained, showing them her unfinished notes.

        "So, do you have any notes on Snorlax? You're a much higher rank than me, so you could probably take on the distortions." She asked.

Emin nodded, grabbing their thick binder of research notes.

        "...And finished! I didn't know you had such detailed notes, Em. Those distortions must be way more common than I thought." Akari said, falling back onto the hardwood floor.

        "I'm observant." Emin signed, looking back out the window. Sunlight began to crack through the bottom slit of the blinds. It was still too early to prepare.

        "Say, you said you've been to other regions, right? Have you seen Snorlax in any of those places?" She asked, craning her neck up to look at them. They hummed and shut their eyes, thinking back to their time in Kanto before finally speaking up.

        "Yes, actually. Back in Kanto, there were wild Snorlax that would fall asleep in the middle of roads. Nothing would wake them up either, aside from a pokéflutes melody." They said quietly, drumming their fingers on the floor beside them.

        "Interesting. What was the Kanto region like? It must have been calmer if you're so casual about wild Snorlax there." She said, tilting her head as she sat up completely.

Emin tensed, drawing their lips into a thin line. Akari had been there for them since they'd first fallen into Hisui. And they spent more time with her than any of their other 'friends' beyond Kanto.

But she's just going to be gone like the rest once I'm finished with my business here...

It's not worth getting attached...

It's only going to make leaving worse...

They didn't even realize that Akari was still there as their thoughts spiraled. Until they felt a gentle squeeze on their hand.

        "Hey, hey, it's okay Emin, I'm here. Take a deep breath," She said, gently rubbing her thumb over their knuckles. They followed her instructions, grounding themselves before they spiraled too much further. They stayed silent as she wiped away their tears with her sleeve. Wait, when did I start crying?

        "I'm sorry, I didn't think that would trigger you. You don't have to tell me, I was just curious." She said quietly, keeping her hold on their hand.

        "No, it's fine. I just... Just..." They signed, trying to find the right words.

        "It's just. Stories from outside the region I'm in are very intimate for me. I can't share that with just anyone, you know?" They continued,

        "I'm already getting over-attached. I shouldn't be telling you and the others about the timeline-jumping stuff but I... I want to tell you about it. About Kanto, about all my adventures! But... I know that's going to get me more invested here. In you guys..." They signed, looking at the floor guilty as they continued.

        "And it's not like I don't want to be close with you, or the rest of the Galaxy Expedition Team. But I don't want to put myself through this again. I'll get attached, I'll care about you all and... and I'll have a family again..." They signed, rubbing their watering eyes before they finished,

        "Then I'll just go to bed one day and it will all be gone again... And if I ever come back to Hisui, no one will remember me... No one will care about me again..." They choked out. Too preoccupied with trying to rub the tears pouring out of their eyes to bother signing the rest. Akari stayed silent and hugged them, pulling them up against her.

Emin completely broke down, sobbing into her shoulder. Not bothering to cover their laboured and shaky breathing. She rubbed small circles into their back, doing her best to comfort them. She knew anything she tried saying would be empty platitudes, but it was worth a shot.

        "Look, Em, I won't lie and say I understand; because I don't. No one can. But I care about you, and I don't want to see you doing this to yourself. I know that you're going to fulfill whatever quest has been set for you here. And... You'll have to leave Hisui behind..." She said, her voice coming almost to a whisper as her sentence dropped off.

        "But, you being in my life has made it a lot brighter. Even if your time here is finite." She continued, feeling Emin shifting in her grip, sitting back to look at her.

        "It... It has?" They asked quietly, an expression of confusion on their face. “I… I always thought my presence was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. I’d go to a new region, stop the local evil team and be on my way.” They said, bitterness underlining their voice.

        "I couldn't control my Pikachu when you first fell here, Em. But you've taught me so much about catching pokémon. And getting over my fears while you’ve been here” Akari said, ”I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you.” She continued, holding their hands, gently rubbing their knuckles.

        "Funny you say that... I... don't think I'd be the same person either if I didn't meet other people. I didn't think being trans was possible for the longest time." They admitted, rubbing the back of their neck.

        “But when I met an actual trans guy, things just kind of... Clicked... And apparently, not all cis women get anxious over having boobs or a high-pitched voice. Who'd have thought.” They said, chuckling as their tears let up.

        “See? There's so much value in bonding with people, you shouldn't close them out on principle.” She said, smiling gently at Emin.

        “You’ve helped so many people just by being there for them. And that will stay with them forever, even when you move on. I know it will for me.” She said, hugging them close. They tightly gripped Akari, reciprocating the gesture.

        “Thanks, Akari. I… I needed to hear that.” They mumbled, a small but hopeful smile forming on their face. The pair stayed in that position, silently holding each other for a few peaceful minutes. Emin finally broke away, thinking over something.

I already put myself further out there with Akari more than anyone else... I guess there's not much of a point in being secretive anymore.

        "So... you wanted to know about Kanto?" They said, pulling their knees back to their chest. Akari's eyes lit up, but she tried her best to keep her enthusiasm contained.

        "Yeah! Well, if you're comfortable telling." She said, crossing her legs and looking at Emin intently.

        "Well..." They said,

        "...And that's how I became the Indigo League champion, at least until all this started," Emin said, finishing the retelling of their first adventure in Kanto. Akari was completely enthralled in their story of a region where pokémon were tame, even in the wild.

        "That's incredible! I wish I could see it myself, but it appears to be many centuries away from reaching that point in this timeline." She mused, eliciting a small hum from the other.

        "Yeah, maybe we can climb up Spear Pillar and throw ourselves back through the rift to modern times." They joked, getting a small laugh from her. Daylight had completely filtered into the room by now. The clock on their arc phone read seven-thirty AM.

        “I think the others are awake now, so we should get going. Thanks for coming over, Akari. I… Really needed some comfort. And it was nice telling you about Kanto.” Emin said, disappointment underlining their voice.

        “How about we go out to the Crimson Mirelands together? I finally got promoted, so I can go along with you.” Akari suggested, as she got up and stretched.

        “I’d like that. I’ll meet you at the entrance, alright?” They said, a smile tugging at their lips.

        “I’ll see ya there then, Em.” She said cheerfully as she made her exit, leaving Emin alone once again. They let out a sigh, turning to the chest on top of which their uniform was neatly folded up.

I’m gonna miss this when it’s all over… But Akari’s right,

I may as well make memories here before it’s gone.

thanks so much for reading ! reblogs and likes are extremely appreciated and I'd love to know what y'all think ^^

[rossumtrinity]

So what is Megatron like in Trekformers?

the million dollar question!

the short answer is: i don’t really like megatron, especially in idw, for a whole variety of reasons. so megatron doesn’t get his mtmte season 2 redemption arc, but i haven’t 100% settled on what i’m doing with him. 

in the present day of trekformers, he’s Full Shithead. in the past, he was kind of cool, but there’s not really any going back at this point.

the long answer i’m gonna go ahead and put below the cut, because in order to talk about megatron i have to talk about the whole federation-decepticon war. which is a lot. there’s another TL;DR at the end also. sorry i like to talk

(properly capitalized for ease of readability)

Megatron, at age six, was one of the first wave of settlers of a new Federation colony along the Federation-Cardassian border. A newly established colony a fair distance from the core of the Federation and very close to contested Cardassian territory is Not A Good Place To Have A Childhood.

Despite this, when Megatron applied to Starfleet Academy at age 18 he was a strong believer that, by joining Starfleet, he would be able to make a change. He had his life planned out: he would graduate from the Academy at the top of his class, become Starfleet’s youngest captain, and eventually command the fleet’s flagship and go down in history for his exploits. He’d be able to help people, to make change, to ensure others didn’t have to suffer.

During his first year at the Academy, Megatron was roommates with the Trill Orion Pax, with whom he became fast friends. They started dating in their thrid year, to the surprise of none of their acquaintances. Another goal was added to Megatron’s plan: He’d be commanding the fleet’s flagship, with Orion by his side.

In Megatron’s fourth year, he wrote an anonymous critique of the Federation standing by and doing nothing about the Cardassian occupation of Bajor. This caused quite a stir and, unfortunately for Megatron, ended his career before it ever started.

After graduation, Megatron and Orion served on the same ship for two years, before Megatron transferred to an out-of-the-way outpost, Messatine, where he hoped he would be able to advance his career.

A year into his posting at Messatine, and Orion broke off their relationship, stating their careers were headed in drastically different directions, but that he wanted to remain friends. This was bad enough, but Megatron also came to the realization that his critique of the Federation had made him no friends in Starfleet Command. The glorious career he’d planned was going nowhere fast.

By 2351 Megatron was a captain–but he was commanding Croteus 12, an outpost in the middle of nowhere, on an inhospitable, icy planet. However, his continued writings had gained traction, and he’d made a valuable friend in the form of Soundwave, a Betazoid with exceptional telepathic abilities. He’d also become aware that Starfleet was keeping a careful eye on him and conducting investigations on him. His resentment for Starfleet, and Federation ideals as a whole, only continued to grow.

By 2353 the Decepticon movement was named and had attracted a fair amount of attention, both positive and negative, including attention from forces outside of the Federation. Three Tal Shiar operatives, Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker, were sent to Croteus 12, undercover as Vulcan scientists, to investigate the Decepticon movement, hoping to manipulate what could become a Federation civil war in the Romulan Empire’s favor. Megatron ended up gaining three new, loyal recruits.

In 2357, Sentinel Prime, head of Section 31, was assassinated, the Decepticons defected, and the Federation-Decepticon war officially began. Initial Decepticon efforts were covert, keenly aware of the fact that they were fighting a war on two fronts against the Federation and Cardassia, a war that they would not win openly. This created an image of the Decepticon as ‘underdogs’ which, combined with Decepticon ideals and Megatron’s charismatic leadership, meant that the Decepticon forces only grew over time, including Federation defectors as well as recruits from outside of the Federation.

Over time, the idea of loyalty to the Decepticon cause soon became indistinguishable from loyalty to Megatron. When the idea of a “Decepticon empire” began to spread, no one questioned it. When the Decepticons shifted to more violent tactics in the 2360s, causing harm to innocents, no one questioned it, as long as Megatron was leading.

Starscream was one of the few who openly disagreed with Megatron’s tactics, stating he was unfit for leadership and losing sight of the bigger picture, prioritizing his anger and personal resentment over the movement’s goals as a whole. But despite being second-in-command, Megatron had ensured that Starscream had few friends and little support among the Decepticons for his attempted betrayals, none of which succeeded.

In 2368, Megatron authorized the use of biogenic weapons on Cardassia Prime, rendering the planet uninhabitable and effectively eradicating one of the Decepticons’ enemies. Cardassia out of the way, Megatron took control of Bajor, defenseless, its government in shambles. He claimed his intention was purely to help the ravaged planet rebuild–despite establishing martial law and occupying the planet with Decepticon forces, putting puppet leaders in power of the provisional government while he insisted he knew what was best for the planet.

In 2370, following the discovery of the Bajoran wormhole and a Whole Bunch Of Galvatron Bullshit (sincerely sorry to people who haven’t read phase 1 and want to know the specifics; phase 1 is a nightmare and I prefer to leave most of it Vague in trekformers to spare my sanity), Megatron disappeared. Without their leader, the Decepticons were left largely directionless, and many dispersed in various directions, with various new goals.

Megatron shows up again in 2371 for some Dark Cybertron But Trekformers Bullshit, and from then on Trekformers is kind of a shapeless mass in my brain because I haven’t figured everything out yet. 

I’m not sure if I’ve actually done a great job Summing Up Who Megatron Is As A Person in all this… so TL;DR: He’s an idealist who came to realize that the people and organizations he believed in were corrupt and selfish. Becoming the leader of a movement of defectors only granted him more power and magnified his resentment and anger, leading him to resort to more and more violent tactics and lose sight of the ideals he once espoused, turning into a self-righteous despot and imperialist who believed he knew better than the people he claimed he was trying to “help.”

And I have barely touched on his relationship with Starscream here because we would be here for days, but it’s! Bad! Megatron is abusive, that’s really not up for debate here. He’s interesting in several aspects, but also he sucks, and he’s not getting a redemption arc in my self-indulgent AU.

[manjiroro]

hii,, can i request for sanzu n rindou with a short s/o ?? ty ^^

them with a short s/o

characters: sanzu, rindou

content: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack?, cursing

hii thank you for requesting~~ omg yay ive been having rindou brainrot recently and im so excited to write for him~~

i apologise for any mistakes and i hope you enjoy~~

s a n z u

sanzu loves to tease you for your height

he will verbally tease you, calling you tiny at any point of the day

he thinks that you are so little whenever you stand next to him

so he rarely takes you seriously

especially when you're mad

"Sanzu Haruchiyo, are you even listening to me?!"

you were currently nagging at him because he had got hurt from getting into a fight which HE initiated with another gang

but the whole time, he was trying to muffle his laughter as he watched you strain your neck to look up at him as you scolded him

that was when he couldn't hold it in anymore and laughed at you before rubbing your head and bringing you into a tight hug

"Hah.. sorry sorry, you just looked so cute, you're so tiny~"

that just made you even pissed as you smacked him in his chest

"Could you at LEAST take this seriously sanzu, I don't want you getting hurt."

"Alright alright, I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

but the both of you knew that was a lie

he makes fun of you for being unable to reach for things

he'll watch you struggle for a while for his own amusement

he'll only help you if you asked

sanzu sat on your bed as he watched you stand on your tip toes, trying to reach for a book on a high shelf

he watched in amusement as you struggled to even graze your fingertips against the book

"Sanzu, for the love of god, could you stop laughing at me and help?"

"Huh, I wasn't even laughing."

"I know you wanted to, but could you help me?!"

"Nah, you can do it yourself babe."

that was when you got so pissed at him that you gave up trying to reach for the book, crossing your arms as you sat across from him

that was when sanzu let out the loudest laugh you've heard from him

"Aww, you're adorable aren't you. Alright, since I'm such a great boyfriend, I'll help you~"

he easily reached up for the book and gave it to you but in a fit of rage, you took hold of the book and smacked him in the head with it

but if anyone makes fun of your height, he will step in to defend you

he's a very loyal person after all, so he will do anything to keep you protected and safe

you and sanzu were walking around when someone bumped into you. you would've fallen right on your ass if it weren't for sanzu's hand on your waist

"Oops, didn't see you there, you're so tiny after all~"

"Hah? The fuck did you say to my girlfriend?"

sanzu seethed at the person, cracking his knuckles at them, preparing to fight them

the person was intimidated and they hurriedly mumbled a sorry before hurrying away

in the end, even if sanzu doesn't show it, he genuinely loves the height difference between the both of you and he thinks that your height is perfect <3

r i n d o u

this man will also tease you to no end

instead of it being just verbal, he will physically tease you as well

sometimes he'll just rest his elbow on your head and maybe put his weight on it

he'll laugh at your reaction afterwards

"OW, THE FUCK RINDOU?"

you would yell at him while elbowing him in his side

"OW, THAT HURT."

rindou would wince as the jab you gave him was pretty hard

"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET, ASSHOLE, YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME SHORTER?"

while wincing in pain, he can't help but laugh at your remark, which made you even more mad as you smacked him hard in the head

he'll take you seriously when you're mad, even though he wants to laugh at how tiny you are, he manages to suppress it when he remembers how hard you can hit him

"I really don't understand how- are you laughing right now?"

you were in the midst of nagging at him when you heard a scoff coming from him

"N-no. Look, I'm sorry babe, it won't happen again."

he would say while bringing you into a hug, it was his way to make you calm down

he knows he's in so much trouble since you found out that he was trying his hardest not to laugh

he thought his plan had worked when you returned the hug

your hands move to cup his cheeks, which made him melt against them before he winced in pain as you pinched his cheeks

"Hm, you better mean that Haitani Rindou."

You said, giving him a small smile before walking away.

all that aside, he really thinks it's cute that you have to tip toe to be able to kiss him on the lips or how he has to bend down slightly to give you a kiss on your temple

he loves it whenever you guys cuddle and you mange to fit against him so snug

if you're trying to get something high up, he'll stand at the side to watch you struggle

but you always know how to get him to help you

"Rin, can you stop staring and actually help?"

you don't get a response and you sigh

"Fine, I'll ask Ran."

"NO, which one do you need?"

Rindou practically sprinted up to your side to help you get the item you needed

you snicker at him before giving a kiss as a form of thanks

as payback, he'll purposely put all your stuff up on high shelfs

but don't worry, he'll actually come help you if you give him all of your affection

rindou wouldn't outright say that he likes your height, but he really does and you know this from his actions and love towards you <3

❥ masterlist

[violettelueur]

INUMAKI TOGE || PRETTY

| featuring : inumaki toge from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1282

| published : 29 december

| request : hi! i would like to order an imagine for inumaki where he says a non onigiri related sentence to the reader for the first time :D ah but you can also skip this if youd like because i think i remember you saying that inumaki was a hard character! i hope u have an amazing day/night <3

| barista’s notes : i hate you all...you didn’t tell me that episode 120 of Black Clover was this emotional...guys it made me cry ffs....i hate you all ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ but what i wanted to say was that this imagines curse technique was inspired but Bleach (my favourite anime of all time) and their use of Kido - which is kind of like spells they use during battle - and the name and number is the same as in the anime and this was because i was watching a fight scene from bleach once again while writing this ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and you’re welcome to come again anytime soon!

With the sunshine trying to peek through the branches, you as well as other second years were walking around the premise of the school, taking a short break from the training that you were all doing with both Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara for to Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event to prepare for the team battle that going to happen on the first day.

“Y/N, are you okay? You have been in a daze since we started this walk,” someone suddenly asked, causing you to look away from all the tall trees that covered the sky to the girl with the high ponytail, who was looking at you with a concerned look on her face.

“Leaf Mustard?” Inumaki then questioned, leading you to realise that they were actually worried. Wanting to put them at ease, you quickly put a small but gentle smile on your face and waved your hand up and down to wave them off, “yeah, yeah, I’m fine guys don’t worry. I’m just a bit tired from training,” you said in a calm tone leading to both Maki and Inumaki to smile back at you as a sign of relief.

“I can’t really blame you, you did use a lot of curse energy to train those two idiots, but don’t push too hard, we need you for the individual battle against Todo on the second day since Okkotsu isn’t here,” Panda explained, causing you to look down to the stone pavement as you began to ponder what Panda had just said.

Panda was right, you couldn’t use up all your curse energy right now since you were one of the sorcerers that could even take on Todo for the individual battle that was happening on the second day of the event. However, unlike your senior, you were just a grade one sorcerer like Todo meaning you were the strongest student within the Tokyo side right now. 

Breathing out a huge sigh, you looked back up to your classmates before quickly mentioning with an annoyed tone, “ahhh I don’t want to see that fool again, I don’t want to even fight him, what a pain,” leading to both Maki and Panda laughing at you knowing what was going on your mind.

Even though you were in the Tokyo end of the schools and the complete opposite of his type, for some odd reason Todo had a well-known crush on you ever since you had helped him defeat the curses during the attack that Geto launched in Kyoto and now you were just stuck in that whole different situation...even though you had a crush on a different person.

Slyly looking over to the cursed speech sorcerer, you couldn’t help but start to wonder if he had the same feeling as you did - and to be honest, you had no single clue. However, knowing how Inumaki was as a person, he probably just saw you as his friend due to his caring and protective personality traits.

You and Inumaki met at around the same time when you both started at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College and became really close the second you both started getting to know each other. From the light conversations to planning different pranks, as time went on, you began to realise that your face would always have a light pale pink flush every time you would talk to him as well as your heart rate going a little faster than it originally should. What had done it for you finally was when Okkotsu came into the classroom with Rika and Inumaki immediately stood in front of you even though he knew that you were capable of defending yourself from the curse.

“Well maybe if I use my domain expansion-” you quietly muttered causing Maki to suddenly interrupt you.

“Y/N that will kill him,”

“But that was my plan,” you answered back with a pout, causing everyone to laugh at your joke before all of you continued walking before you all started to wonder where both Fushiguro and Kugisaki were.

                  ��                         ꕥ

‘I am going to kill this bastard’

“Curse spell number four: Hainawa!” you yelled out, causing your curse energy to form a bright cracking rope around your arm - somewhat resembling lightning - before your fling your right arm towards the direction of the Grade one sorcerer that you and the second years were gossiping a few minutes ago, leading to the brightly lit rope to wrap itself upon Todo, halting his movement completely before he falls down onto the wooden platform he was standing on.

Walking towards the fallen sorcerer, you began to click your knuckles as if you were ready to physically beat the large man before placing your foot on top of his head to press his face further onto the ground.

“Now,” you started with a menacing tone before continuing with, “since you caused my junior’s head to bleed, should I cut your whole head off first?” leading to Panda, Inumaki and even Fushiguro to shiver at your deadly and frightening presence that was in front of them.

“Tuna tuna,” Inumaki quickly said as he raised his arms up and down as a way to mention you to calm down to which you instantly did the minute you looked at him directly in the eye, only to quickly turning your head the other face the way to avoid him seeing any rose hues that may sudden paint themselves on your cheeks.

Slowly taking your foot off from Todo’s head, you quickly made your way towards Fushiguro and crouched down to his level. “Are you able to get up Megumi?” you asked kindly to which Fushiguro nodded at you before you slowly helped him up and passed the young jujutsu sorcerer to Panda, so he would get to the infirmary a bit quicker. 

Suddenly, you felt a slight tap on your shoulder, leading you to turn to look over your shoulder to see Inumaki place his two index fingers on his cheek which caused you to instantly blush at the adorable sight.

‘Damn it..why do you have to be so adorable Toge?’

Once again, he pressed his cheeks as if what he was interpreting was not understood by you. After tilting your head to the side in confusion as you couldn’t understand what he was trying to do, you unexpectedly saw his two fingers reach over to your face before feeling them being placed at the corner of your lips. Starting to blush profusely by his actions, you suddenly felt your lips being lifted up to form a smile on your face.

“Are...are you telling me to smile, Toge?” you confusingly asked in a struggle since your lips were still being pushed together due to Toge’s fingers still being on the corners to force the smile you were wearing now. Nodding at your question, Inumaki moved his fingers away leading to the drop of your artificial smile before you quickly replaced it with a real smile that he was so desperate to see.

“Pretty!” Inumaki cheerfully commented, causing you to look at him with widened eyes which now, in turn, confused the speech curse user. “You...You said ‘pretty’ Toge, that is not an onigiri ingredient!” you shouted as you grabbed his shoulders before looking left and right to see if anything was going to happen since you knew the effect of his curse technique. 

However, all you heard was laughter causing you to turn to him once again to see him with a joyful expression on his face. You look at the boy for a second before beginning to laugh yourself.

“Ah what are you talking about Toge? You’re the pretty one here!”