#no i haven't played cold steel yet
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nihilismbot · 1 year ago
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Hi. My name is Juna Dark'ness Dementia Raven Crawford and I have long pink hair (that's not how I got my name) with fushia streaks and salmon tips that reaches my mid back and minty green eyes like sparkling emeralds and a lot of people tell me I look like Estelle Bright (a/n: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm a Crossbellian but I wasn't in Zero. I have pale white skin. I'm a cop, and I go to a military academy called Thors in Erebonia where I'm in Class VII (I'm seventeen). I'm a prep (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly my school uniform. I love the Times Department Store and I used to buy all my clothes from there. But today I was wearing a white mini skirt with blue stripes on the bottom, a blue jacket with white cuffs, a blue vest underneath, red socks, and black boots with gold trim. I was wearing pink lipstick, natural foundation, black eyeliner, and neutral eye shadow. I was walking outside Thors. It was raining and snowing so there was no sun, which I knew meant a dramatic scene was going to happen. A lot of students stared at me. I put up my hand in greeting at them.
"Hey Juna!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was.... Kurt Vander!
"What's up Kurt?" I asked.
"Nothing." he said shyly.
But then, I heard my friends call to me and I had to go away.
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morgenstern16 · 1 year ago
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The geopolitics of the Trails series are so funny. In Trails in the Sky SC, you have an entire chapter dedicated to figuring out who is trying to disrupt the signing of a major non-aggression pact, during which you learn a lot about the internal politics of all sides and what the treaty can and can't do. It's a really interesting chapter that teaches you a lot about Liberl's place in the world and it helps to ground the setting in a good way.
All that being said, it turns out the disruption was caused by a bored child supersoldier with a fucking gundam.
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princess-starscourge · 11 months ago
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Trails of Cold Steel has reentered and re-ruined my life so send me some asks about it if you please
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beomiracles · 4 days ago
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𝓞𝐅 𝓢𝐍𝓞𝐖 𝓐𝐍𝐃 𝓢𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝓔𝐑𝓔𝐃 𝓦𝓘𝐍𝐆𝐒
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𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝
𝓹airing dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f) 𝔀arnings descriptions of injuries/blood, supernatural au, kissing, character death (not main), shitty and poor writing, lowkey rushed toward the end, kills myself.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 14.1k ་༘࿐
#serene adds ✎.. my contribution to The Veils Of Aethera which is kind of very shit and probably the worst piece I have ever written (I'm exaggerating, maybe..) no but theres a lot of plot holes, which I did not have time to fill out but could definitely explain if someone wants me to, because in my head I have all the answers and um yes. I haven't proofread this once and I'm not going to because im nic sick off my ass and also on the verge of just falling asleep hm, anyway I love u guys heh please don't be mad at me for posting something so below my usual level >-<
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ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 
FIRE, burning hotter than the sun. Orange and yellow flames dancing before your very eyes, their warmth caressing your face, shunning the cold around and embracing you. Fire warm enough to kill, if they wanted to. — Turning forests into ash, melting even the firmest of steel armor, incinerating entire kingdoms with one mere breath. 
The dragon’s powerful roar echoes over the mountain tops, loud enough for trees to shake. Even the wind gave way as they soared through the sky. Large wings slapping against the cool air as they danced through the clouds. Untamed beasts, that’s how most described them. Wild and fueled only by their desire and rage to destroy everything around them. 
Few humans were fortunate enough to face one of these creatures and live to tell the tale. But the ones that did were graced with luck for many generations to come. These humans, those who sought not to fight but to learn about these beasts, were a different kind of people. Reckless in the eyes of other humans but courageous in the eyes of the dragon. 
Together they conquered the skies, not as two but as one. Their souls connected with one another as they played a game of perfect synchronization. Moving swiftly in the dark, silently communicating with nothing but the twitch of a muscle. It was a different kind of understanding, a mutual one, a bond that ran far deeper than any other. 
A raspy cough slices through the image of the dark fiery dragon gliding through the sky and your attention immediately shifts to the old man in front of you. — “Grandpa! Are you alright?” Quickly rising to your feet, you scurry toward the old man as you kneel before him. He gives a weak nod, dismissing you with the wave of his wrinkly hand. 
“I’m fine, dearest..” He mutters, though the strain of his voice betrays his words. Still, you nod as your thumbs caress the back of his hand. “Now, where was I? — Ah yes, the dragons..” He shifts in his chair, the blanket slipping from his legs, and you rush to shove it back in place. Your old grandpa clears his throat as he prepares to continue. 
“You see there were these formations they would do in the air and–” — “Alfred, that’s quite enough.” The brisk voice of your aunt, Fiona, pierces through the air. She sways by the doorway, her arms folded neatly across her chest as her dark gaze narrowed on your grandpa. With a small grumble he adjusts himself in his seat, muttering something about Fiona being “a persistent know-it-all.” 
Your aunt doesn’t seem to care for his bitterness, for she did not enjoy hearing him talk about those “creatures” as she referred to them as. Instead she brushes past you, her arms wrapping around the old man as she helps him to his feet. “Enough about those lizards, come to bed.” — With a small glance over her shoulder, she addresses you in a most derogatory tone. “Make use of yourself out in the garden will you? Your grandpa needs to rest.” 
The sun is warm against your face as you squint toward it. Your aunt had a lovely garden, situated just on the edge of the forest, by the very far end of the kingdom. Humming along to the soft tune of a slow melody, your hands busy themselves with hanging the damp garments on the clothesline that was tied between two posts. 
A gentle breeze makes the wet fabric sway in the wind and you skip out of its way as you reach for one of the dresses. — “Thought I told you to let those things go.” The voice of your aunt slices through the relaxing atmosphere. She bends down to pick a pair of smaller pants from the basket, belonging to your younger cousin. 
Even if her words remained vague and dismissing, there was no doubt that she was referring to the stories she’d walked in on your grandpa sharing, yet again. When your silence has gone on for a good minute she continues, “You know how he gets, going on and on about that nonsense..” Fiona huffs as she gives the pants a harsh shake before folding them across the string. 
“But I should like to hear him out- His stories are beyond interesting, and he’s delighted to share them!” You chime in, a small, hopeful smile stretching across your lips. It was true, to reminisce about the tales of his youth seemed to be the only thing that brought your grandfather any sort of joy these days. It made the wrinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiled, a low breathy laugh rumbling within his chest. 
Your aunt Fiona shoots you a pointed look, her attention then drifting back to the damp clothes. “That is all that they are, stories. But your old grandpa does not seem to know the difference between tales and truth anymore.” She heaves a sigh as she turns to you, “Lest us not make matters worse by encouraging these…fantasies.” Her tone was final, like a large wooden door being slammed shut in your face. You held your tongue, returning to your chores as the day continued on. 
Dinner was chaotic, as it always was. With plates clattering against the small wooden table and glasses being tipped over. Your younger cousins bickered, their loud and whiny voices filling the cramped room. “Boys! Enough.” Fiona looks tired when placing the large pot of soup on the middle of the table, in the center of the whirlwind. The twins however, immediately quiet down though they continue to glower at one another. 
“He started it!” William shouts as he points to his brother, Theodore, who merely shakes his head. “Did not!” — “Did too!” For each time their whining voices grew all the louder, soon overpowering any coherent thought you might have. A small tap to your side diverts your attention from the arguing taking place. Mira, your youngest cousin, points to the jug of water, silently requesting you give her some. 
She was quiet, awfully so, in fact you don’t think you’d heard hear utter more than three words during meal time. You oblige by pouring her a glass, setting the jug back just in time for your aunt to give the twins a harsh tug to their ears, making them protest loudly. — “Give your mother a break will ya?” Her voice is harsh, leaving a thick silence behind as she lets go of her sons and takes a seat by the high end of the table. 
Opposite your aunt Fiona, sits your grandfather. He seems lost in thought as his wrinkly fingers play with the spoon on his hand. Everyone is now turning his way, waiting patiently for him to begin eating. It was customary to let the oldest man of the house eat before anyone else, and usually your grandpa was not late to indulge… Today, he seems distracted. 
“Father, are you not hungry?” Your aunt tries as she leans forward, gripping her own spoon tightly. You watch as his brows raise on his aged forehead, and your grandfather hums as his gaze drops to the bowl before him, as if he’d just realized its presence. — “Huh..” He huffs, readjusting his grip on the silverware as he stirs the warm soup. “Oh yes..” He murmurs, bringing a spoonful to his lips as he begins to eat. 
Everyone sighs in relief, all following as they, too, begin to feast. For some reason you find yourself unable to. Your gaze lingers by your old grandpa, noting the slight tremble to his hand and the effort it took for him to swallow. Often did you worry for his health, for how long you had left with him. Regardless of his condition, there was little you could do for him. It pained you greatly. 
Just like everynight, you tucked your grandpa in before bed. He’d gotten quite disoriented during later months and needed help getting from one place to another. With your arm around his weak frame, another one waiting to assist, you move him from his rocking chair and over to the soft mattress. — “There you go, pops. — Careful with your knees.” 
Your grandfather scoffs as he waves a dismissing hand your way. “Enough dear, these legs used to conquer battlefields, they shan’t submit to a short walk..” Still, there was an undeniable tremble to him as he slowly lowered himself onto the bed. — Only once you’d drawn the thick blanket over him, did he finally seem at ease once more. 
He hums to a foreign melody as you fiddle with the oil lamp on his bedside table. — “Ah, did I tell you about that one time… The one where I met a sundragon head on?” Your grandpa stifles a cough against his palm before shaking his head lightly. Though his train of thought was cut short when you place a gentle hand on his chest. 
“It’s getting late pops, you need to rest.” The smile you send him is far from convincing and you quickly avoid his piercing gaze as you adjust the lamp one final time. You never turned down one of his stories, even if you’d heard it a hundred times before. He was bound to catch onto it, and he did. The sounds of sheets rustling rings in your ears as he props himself up on a weak elbow. 
“Did my daughter tell you to stop encouraging me?” 
It wasn’t a question but a statement. Despite your reluctance, you slowly admit to it as you give a meek nod. Your gaze trains to your hands as they rest in your lap, seated on the edge of his bed. Your grandpa makes a small noise of disbelief as he thumps back against the mattress. “Just as stubborn as her mother..” He mutters as he gazes up at the ceiling. 
For a moment, a still silence fills the small bedroom, nothing but the wind tearing through the trees outside to be heard. Then your old grandfather suddenly speaks again. “Your aunt has every reason to resent those creatures, given what happened to my father..” — Your ears perk up at the mention of your great grandfather. He was, according to your grandpa, a man like no else. One who not only faced the dragons but even soared through the sky alongside them. 
Well, at least until… Your grandpa’s hoarse voice interrupts your scattered thoughts. “I do not blame her”, he murmurs, sounding almost melancholic. Yet you’re able to catch the undeniable glint in his eyes, the one that would shine whenever he spoke of his past. “Still…”, he coughs, a low and weasel sound, “I would like to see them one last time.” 
“To see the dragons once more, that is my final wish.” 
𓍼ོ
The very next morning is cold, a lot colder than a typical summer one in Aethera. You tug your coat tighter around yourself, even your gloved hands slowly succumbing to the biting frost. It’s early, much so that the sun itself has yet to rise over the horizon. — Quietly, you slip out of your aunt's small cottage, sealing the door shut behind you as you give a final glance over your shoulder. 
Your footsteps crunch against the leaves and twigs as you make your way through the thick and dense forest. Nature around you was still asleep, at least, most of it. You did not dare stop to think about what kind of creatures roamed these woods, what kind of entities lingered in its shadows.. A shiver runs down your spine and you shudder before pushing those thoughts aside, marching forward with hasty steps. 
And soon enough, the trees part, making way for the large mountains ahead. With newfound eagerness, you rush forward, more than ready to leave the dark forest behind as you emerge from the treeline. — You pause, finding yourself in complete awe as you stare up at large stones, crafted by nature itself, their tops covered in a bright blanket of white snow. 
Here you were bound to find what you were looking for. Dragons. Determined to fulfill your grandfather’s dying wish, the least you could do was set out to bring back the one thing he sought to see the most. You knew a lot about dragons, well, as much as he’d let on to in his stories. Still, the thought of seeing one up close.. It made your stomach tingle. 
But the mountain is a lot crueler than you’d anticipated. The hike to the top is unforgiving, tearing your limbs apart as your body aches. You’re panting, knee deep in thick snow as you battle against the harsh winds. In spite of it being late July, the harsh conditions of the Frosty Peaks seemed to know no bounds as it served you whiplash after whiplash. 
Frantically your gaze searches for an entrance, for any way to access the mountain. Your grandpa had long ago told you about the dark caves dragons resided in. “They’re quite tricky to find, not something you would just stumble upon. — A dragon’s nest is its most treasured place.” That’s what he’d said. 
You knew to look for small, almost unnoticeable anomalies. Something that any other bypasser would mistake for nature's misfortune. A twisted branch, a cracked stone.. The cold wind hurls against you, making an almost ear piercing screeching noise. You can no longer feel your face as you keep your gaze trained to the ground, intently looking for something, anything that would give way to an opening. 
But you come up short. There was nothing here. It felt like you’d been climbing this mountain for forever. It was never ending, everywhere you turned there was just snow upon snow upon snow. Every rock and every tree looked the same, perhaps you’d been walking in circles. What if you couldn’t find your way home, what if you were to freeze to death upon this quiet mountain, all alone and shivering as you take your last breaths.  
The lantern you had brought along had burned out, yet you clutched it tightly as you stumbled forward. With your head bowed and your desperate eyes seeking what you thought to be the impossible, you’re unable to foresee the snare that protrudes through the white snow, not until it’s too late. It catches around your wrist, causing you to yelp as you fall forward. 
It’s cold, it’s so cold that it burns. The hard ground caresses your tired body, the soil beneath welcoming you. With shaky hands you brace yourself against the mountain, daring to lift your head only an inch, wincing at the pain that throbbed within. “Ow..” You whine, clutching your temple as you screw your eyes shut. 
When you open them again is when you see it. At first you didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. In disbelief your gaze flickers between the lily that was currently in full bloom, thriving in deep snow, and over to the opening presented before you. — Unbelievable. 
Excitement coursed through your veins as you scramble to your feet, eager to escape the menacing wind. It’s without thinking twice that you dart for the cave’s opening, throwing yourself inside with a relieved sigh. Your soft pants leave small clouds of cold in their wake, and you lean against the wet stone walls as you catch your breath. 
With wary eyes you survey your surroundings, taking in the endless pit of darkness that awaits you. The cave curved in a C-like shape, and the sounds of water quietly dropping from its ceiling fills the otherwise eerie silence. — It takes you a moment to re-light your lantern, but once you have, its warm glow manages to bring you at least some sense of comfort. 
Your hesitant footsteps bounce off the wet cavern walls as you delve deeper into the mountain. With your lantern held high, it guides you through the passages, an unexplainable tug at your chest urging you forward. Perhaps you should turn back, perhaps this had been a bad idea. After all, you did not know anything about dragons apart from what your grandfather had told you.— Was this really such a good idea? 
A turn to your left leads you onto an even darker path, and you feel a shiver crawl down your spine, sending a shockwave of nervosity through you. With a small gulp, you readjust your grip on the lantern, its light casting your face in yellow-ish hues. — So far there was not a single sign of any other living being, and you had been listening to nothing but your own shaky exhales for the past twenty minutes. 
Just when you had begun to consider retreat, did the tip of your shoe crash against something hard. Not being able to catch yourself in time, you stumble forward a second time that day. But this time, there’s no snow to catch you, and you hit the hard and cold cave floor with a loud crash. 
“Ow..” Your groan pierces the thick silence, and you wince as you grab ahold of your already pounding head. Not again you sigh. Everything hurt, your body felt sore and bruised, you could only imagine how you looked beneath all your layered clothes. 
Upon turning around, you find that what you had tripped over had been not a stone, not an overly large branch or any other of nature’s call. No, this was something entirely different… With squinting eyes you peer down at what appeared to be scales covering something the size of a smaller tree trunk. Confused you glance around in search of your lantern, it had slipped from your grasp during your fall. 
You find it a few feet away, gingerly shuffling over as you retrieve it. Thankfully the flames within were still alive and you cradled it close as you turned back to the strange scaled thing you had tripped over, only to find it gone. — Your heart catches in your throat, making your eyes widen and the lantern threatening to crash against the ground once more. 
A cold and harsh puff of air hits your back, hard. You gulp, slowly and carefully turning around as you clutch the lamp in trembling hands. Immediately your gaze falls on the exact same scales you’d seen just moments prior. White and smooth, perfectly covering four large legs, your attention fixates on the long and sharp claws on its feet. Then over to the almost translucent and magnificent looking wings, neatly tucked against its sides. 
Dread fills you when you realize that what you had tripped over had been its at least 10 ft long tail. With a gawking expression you watch as said tail curls around its body. In almost cinematic slow motion does your gaze shift toward its head, where sharp canines rested in its mouth. There was no doubt that this was exactly what you had come here looking for. 
“A dragon..” 
The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Your soft whisper of disbelief carrying out into the cold air. It looked stoic, yet far from the dragon's your grandfather had described. This was not the dark and fire-spitting beasts he’d told you about, this was… A wet droplet splashes against your cheek and you glance up to find icicles peering down at you from the ceiling, their pointy ends looking ready to pounce. 
A low huff brings your attention back to the creature before you, just in time to watch as it cracks an eye open. Its ice blue irises a stark contrast to the narrow slits of its pupils. This dragon did not hold the gaze of warmth and fire. — It held one of ice cold death. 
You stumble backward on trembling legs. The wet and hard cave wall feels like daggers against your back when you crash against it. Your breath comes out in jagged pants, your heart beating through your chest as you realize the dangers of your situation. The plan had been to watch them from afar, to silently slip away as if nothing had happened when you had gotten what you’d come here for. The plan did however, not include coming face to face with one of them. To become trapped within the cold and eerie darkness of these caves with the very beings that ruled them. 
With fear in your eyes, you watch as the dragon rises to its feet. Cold blue eyes locked on your small figure as you stay pressed against the wall, cowering before it. The sounds of its heavy steps echo between the icicles hanging from the ceiling, it makes the floor shake and rocks move as it slowly makes its way closer. 
You can feel its chilly breath all over you, freezing your already damp and shivering body tenfold. You screw your eyes shut as you turn your head away, preparing yourself for the fate inevitably to come. — Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. You should’ve listened to your aunt. You had been a fool to believe your old grandpa. You should have never come here and you should have never woken this beast. 
But the sharp and soaring pain of its large canines never came. And when what feels like an eternity has passed, you finally dare crack an eye open. Your vision is clouded by blues and whites, its nose hovering inches from your face. You couldn’t understand why it hadn’t made another move to attack you, to snap your frail body in half and rid itself of your invading presence. 
The dragon only watches you, the slow waves of cold air washing over you when it exhales. You swallow, gaze drifting down its long and majestic body as you wait for death to come. It is then you realize that something was wrong. There, tarnishing the translucent hue of its large wing is a large and ugly crack. Dark crimson spills from it in dramatic fashion as it taints the dragon’s shattered wing. 
It was hurt. 
A pang of sympathy washes over you at the sight. The frantic beating of your heart faltering for a short moment as you exhale the sigh you’d been holding in. The dragon seems to notice where your attention lays and immediately covers itself up by tucking its wing to its side. — A low, predatory sound builds in its chest, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise as you will down a gulp. 
It pulls back, and for a second you think it might retreat. But instead it opens its terrifyingly large jaw, presenting you with rows upon rows of teeth sharp as swords. You want to scream, but the dragon beats you to it as it lets out an ear piercing roar. — It makes the icicles above you shatter, their splinters flying everywhere. Even the walls tremble under the powerful sound and you find yourself darting for the exit without a second thought. 
The sound continues to plague you as you run through the murky and long cavern walls, fighting your way through the maze you had once entered with curiosity and hope. Now you claw onto the desperate feeling of life, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart in your throat. 
It’s not until light presents itself and you catch the sun on your face that you breathe out. Your lungs burn, your legs ache and your head pounds. The snow feels warm and inviting, and your knees sink to the ground as you plummet toward it. — One glance behind your shoulder shows the entrance gone once more, and you sigh, whether it was in relief or not, you can’t tell. 
But as you make your way home that day, you can’t help but think of the dragon up in the mountain, and the large wound on its side. 
𓍼ོ 
Your grandpa accompanies you as you prepare dinner that night. Your aunt Fiona was out gathering wild berries and fruits along with your younger cousins, and so the kitchen had become a peacefully quiet and inviting space. The air is warm, the steam coming from the hot stew cooking over the small fire, caressing your face. 
Perched on his stool by the high end of the table, your grandfather watches as you prepare plates and spoons for the family. His expression is calm, serene even. He doesn’t look as exhausted today, and you’re glad. These quiet and tender moments with him were ones that you cherished, for you didn’t know how many you had left. 
Yet you can’t help your mind from wandering toward the mountain on the other side of the forest. Your thoughts are plagued by the lonesome creature hidden within the stone. “Grandpa…” Your fingers drum against the rim of the glass you were wiping down, a small frown tugging across your brows. 
The old man hums as he shifts his gaze over to where you’re standing, obviously waiting for you to continue. It’s just… You don’t know how to. With a small, almost inaudible sigh you set the glass down. “Did you ever.. I mean was there ever such a thing as… ice dragons?” — The question catches him off guard, sure your old man was used to your inquiries about both the dragons and his past life. But something like this had never been brought up. 
“Ice dragons?” He echoes, and you think you catch a flicker of intrigue behind his otherwise pale eyes. “Where have you heard about those?” He then murmurs as he attempts to sit a little straighter. You immediately rush to his side as you place an arm around him, “Careful.” But your grandfather only swats your helping hands away as he stifles a cough. 
You purse your lips, but keep a steady grip on his shoulder as you hand him a glass of water. “I’ve just… Been doing a bit of research, and I stumbled across the topic.” You bite the inside of your cheek before adding, “There was hardly anything documented, so I was hoping you knew more..” 
Your grandpa hums, the sound long and drawn out as he takes a sip of his water. “Well of course there’s nothing documented, ice dragons have been extinct for centuries.” He says it so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. But it wasn’t. You had just seen one, you were sure you had seen one. 
Images of the dragon up in the mountains flash before you. The blue and white scales, its frosty breath, its icy and penetrating gaze. But that would be impossible then.. It shouldn’t exist if they were extinct. — “Are you sure?” 
With a small scoff, your grandfather sets his glass down. “What kind of question is that?” He quirks a bushy brow, his expression gauging as he studies you closely. “If there was as much as a single ice dragon left, I would be sure to know of it”, he states with a huff. You did not want to argue over the matter any further, and thus kept your silence as you continued setting the table. 
Perhaps it had been a flicker of your imagination. The cave had, after all, been dark. It was possible that what you thought was real could have been all but an illusion. — But the ice cold shiver that ran down your spine as you recall its cold breath on your skin was most real. You think of the blood, of the large wound slashed across its side. How defensive it had gotten when it caught your gaze lingering. 
You pitied the being. What awful it must be to feel pain like that. 
“Why do you want to know about ice dragons?” The hoarse voice of your grandfather pierces the warm air and you turn to him with a small almost helpless smile. “I don’t know… Curiosity I suppose. ” You mumble, choosing to not bring up the day’s events in front of your old man. Your grandpa nods, his face looks sunken as his eyes drop to his empty plate. 
Outside, you can hear the faint noise of your aunt and younger cousins as they approach the small cottage. “Curiosity will get you far”, your grandpa agrees, though his voice sounds almost solemn now. — “But we should not let our thoughts linger in the past.” 
𓍼ོ
You find yourself setting out early in the morning that follows as well. But this time, you’ve brought more than a small lantern. The bag you carry is heavy on your back, making each step up the steep and snowy mountain twice the labour. Yet you persist, stubbornly trudging through the thick snow that reaches all the way to your knees. 
The cold and harsh winds make for a narrow view as you squint against them. Your nose has lost all its feeling, and you’re certain that you’re developing frostbite on parts of your body. Frantically you search for the tiny lily. You had tried your best to retrace yesterday’s steps, wantonly stumbling back and forth as you scour the ocean of bright white. 
“Where is it… Where is it..” Your lips are numb, your tongue feels way too big for your mouth and your words come out slurred. Never in your life had you been this cold before, and only God knows how much longer you’ll be able to carry on forward. 
But then you see it, its bright pink hues lighting up your world like fireworks in the night sky. And just a few feet away, the familiar entrance presents itself. — Despite your better judgement you had returned. Pity, that’s what you told yourself. Pity and empathy, that’s what you felt for the lonely dragon. It was why you had come here, with the intention of helping, as best as you could. It would’ve been what your grandfather would have wanted. 
Guilt weighs you down. It weighs heavier than the large bag on your shoulders. This secret you kept, it was bound to kill you. But such a thought seems small in comparison to the large cave that awaits you. — One final harsh thrust of the wind wins you over as you hurry inside, desperate to get out of its claws, even if it means finding yourself in the grasp of another. 
The maze-like system that was the dark and wet cave is strangely familiar, even though it shouldn’t be. Your feet move on their own, carrying you through the long and narrow labyrinth. For each step you take, your heart beats a little faster. Fear and anticipation courses through you. — Scared as you may be, but this time you had come prepared. This time you knew what waited around the corner, and as you made a final turn to the left, you exhaled. 
It’s dark, but now you know to watch where you place your feet. You’re silent, moving carefully through the cold air. Your lantern casts the cave in a warm and yellow glow, a stark contrast to the murky greys surrounding you. The icicles are sending gentle droplets of water down your way, one by one they splash against your cheek, the soft noise filling the open space. 
You had expected it to be there, you had tried to imagine it over and over for the past day. But the large dragon still catches you by surprise when your gaze falls upon it. Hurled up by one of the rocky and uneven walls, its large wings folded over what you presumed to be its wounded side. Its chest rises and falls with each slow breath it takes, the dragon appears to be in a calm slumber. Cold puffs of air shoots through its flared nostrils, the condensation vanishing in the darkness. 
It takes but one misstep on your part, the sound of rocks being crushed beneath the sole of your shoe echoing out into the silence. The disturbance wakes the sleeping dragon, and you find your gaze glued to its icy eyes as they snap open. Naturally, you expect for it to come lunging at you, just like it had the day before.  
But the dragon remains oddly still, slowly exhaling yet another wind off freezing air as it watches you with an almost expectant glint. It was impossible to read the creature, no matter how hard you tried. Your grandfather’s stories only did so much, and it was admittedly far different to come face to face with one on your own. 
“Hi.”
The greeting comes without you even thinking twice, it’s quiet, soft and timid. You’re surprised by your own rush of calmness at its semblance of indifference. For some reason, you did not feel threatened by the dragon today.
With slow and gentle movements, you let the bag slip from your shoulders, placing it down on the hard stone surface beneath you as you begin rummaging through it. You had not known what to bring along, for anything involving medicine was far from your expertise. The moss you’d brought from just within the forest line was thick and wet, but you vividly remember your aunt dressing your scraped knees in such. 
Gauze was sacred, you had to venture all the way to the kingdom in order to acquire some. It was why you had taken as little as you could from your aunt’s medicine cabinet, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be able to tell. — It wasn’t much, but it was something. 
You feel the dragon's intense gaze on you as your trembling hands undo the roll of gauze, you wondered if it’d be enough to even go around its large body once. It was worth the shot. — You stand up straight, clearing your throat as you draw in a short breath. “I uh, I’m here to help you..” You give the dragon an awkward smile. It was impossible to know if it could understand you or not, but judging by the way its gaze narrowed at your words, you would guess it did. 
It’s okay, you tell yourself, gripping the supplies in your hands tighter. You take a hesitant step forward, gauging its reaction as you keep your eyes on its head. But the dragon remains unmoving. Alright. Three more steps. Still good. — It’s not until you reach its side, your outstretched fingers reaching for the shattered wing, that the dragon flinches. 
A low, menacing growl builds in its chest. The sound makes you falter, your eyes widening as you swallow the shriek about to escape your lips. “I…” Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly as your heart hammers in your chest. Had you taken it too far? Your intentions were pure, sure, but could this beast see that? 
“I mean no harm…” You say as you let the moss and gauze drop to the ground, presenting your now empty hands before the dragon. The creature watches you with pupils that are narrowed into slits, clearly untrusting of your ways, but makes no move to snap you in half. — It meant something, at least so you thought. 
Your attention slowly returns to the pale wing pressing against its side. If only you could get a closer look. Your palm graces the smooth and cold scales, fascinated by the foreign texture. But the action is almost immediately met by a harsh snarl from the dragon as its large head jerks your way. 
Its breath is just as freezing as you’d remembered it, coming out in harsh puffs against your already shivering body. You’re so close that if you leaned forward as much as an inch, your foreheads would meet. — Your gulp is painfully audible inside the dark gave and you fumble for words. 
“Y-You’re hurt…” Your shaky finger points in the direction of its wing and the dragon follows your direction. You watch in slight bewilderment as it flexes the broken wing. The wound looked harsh and deep, you were sure it restricted most of its movements, not to mention causing it great pain. 
The dragon makes a small noise that sounds almost like a human grunt. The sound catches you off guard and you turn back just in time to catch its head shifting forward again, its attention seemingly fixed on something far away. It looked almost… defeated. You wondered for how long it’d been isolated up here, how many sleepless and painful nights it would’ve had to endure. 
When it doesn’t make a second attempt to snap you in half, you take it as your sign to move forward. A brief inspection of the long cut helps you determine that it would probably not need any stitches. Said discovery relieved you as you had little clue of how to work both needle and thread, especially on dragon scales. 
You pick at the moss you’d previously discarded, bunching the wet plant up in your hands as you sought a suitable approach. It would’ve been easier had this dragon been slightly smaller, or you slightly bigger. — Nonetheless you give it your best shot. The dragon hisses when you press the cold moss against the crimson cut, but you try your hardest to ignore the way it tenses beneath your touch, praying and hoping that it would remain as still as it had up until now. 
Once the thick layer of moss is in place, your foot blindly reaches for the gauze as you roll it over. With the help of your teeth, and a lot of effort as your arms fought to keep the earthy moss in place, you managed to throw the small roll over its wing, only to catch it as it came down on the other side.
The process was tedious, and due to the size of the wound, it required you to repeat your original move a multitude of times. You work quietly, biting your lip in concentration as sweat pooled on your forehead. To try and get your mind off of the situation and task at hand, you try to figure out just what could’ve caused an injury like this. 
Had the dragon taken a fall? Gotten in a fight with another of its species, or even worse, a completely different creature? You were no fool, and you knew that dragons were far from the only spirits that roamed this forsaken island. There were beings far more dangerous than a pair of claws and a large jaw. The thought alone made you shiver. 
A loud thud snaps your attention to your left, your heart leaping out of your chest. But the terror subsided just as it had surfaced when your gaze fell on the dragon's head, resting atop the cold and hard cave floor in an exhausted manner. It exhales, the condensated cold air blowing from its nostrils like smoke out of a chimney.  
It was impossible not to pity the lonely creature, and you feel your stomach twisting as you watch its defeated expression. There was much you wanted to ask, things you longed to know. For now, you were content with not getting torn in half as you tended to the crack on its wing. It was enough, you tell yourself. 
Once you're done, you take a step back to inspect your work. It looked… messy. The gauze was wrapped in uneven layers, with moss peeking through here and there. An amateur's job, that much was evident. But the dragon doesn’t seem to mind, for it spares no more than a quick glance toward the now dressed wound. Instead, its cold and harsh gaze lingers on your fidgety frame as you debate your next move.
Your eyes dart around the dark cave, lingering on its sharp and rough edges. You wondered how uncomfortable it must be to live like that. The lack of sunlight, the lack of warmth.. Not that this dragon seemed to need it. — But there was really nothing here. And as you fetch your lantern once more, throwing the now empty bag over your shoulder, you turn to meet the dragon’s icy gaze. 
“I’ll be back”, you say, and though it did not reply, you caught the faint shimmer of its once tired eyes. 
𓍼ོ
You return to that same dark and cold cave for many days to come. As time passed, you found yourself growing all the more comfortable in the dragon’s ever looming presence. You would bring fresh moss, making sure to check on the wound as best as you could. — And though your bag weighs half a ton, you still managed to bring some nutrients all the way up the mountain. 
“Here”, you had said as you threw the bag on the stone floor. The dragon had given you a small glance, its expression appearing almost judgemental before its gaze had flickered to the fish you’d brought along. — “Why come on, you must be hungry.” You motioned toward the fresh meat, feeling rather proud of the accomplishment. The dragon had let out a huff, blowing a cold puff of air your way before begrudgingly indulging in the food. 
Conversation was difficult to make. You often talked to yourself, thinking out loud as you rambled on about whatever topic came to mind. Sometimes you didn’t speak at all, instead choosing to let a comfortable silence envelop the two of you. You did not know if the dragon enjoyed your company, perhaps it only put up with you because it had too little strength to snap you in half. 
Yet the creature continued to occupy your thoughts. Its almost translucent wings, the pale scales covering its body, the sharp pair of icy eyes. One day you’d brought a small notebook along. Using a piece of charcoal, you sat perched against the opposite wall as you drew the dragon to the best of your abilities. You found it to be a great excuse to watch it for long periods of time rather than stealing subtle glances. 
Truth was that no matter how many times your eyes fell on the dragon, you still found it hard to believe just what you were seeing. Suddenly your grandfather’s stories all made sense. The suspense and thrill of the dragons. The dangers and the courage it took. You understood why he enjoyed talking about them so much, you could feel his passion as you sat in silence with something so sacred. 
But for each day that passed, the large gash on its side lessened in both size and severity. You wondered how much time you had left before it eventually spread its wings and took off. The thought plagued you more than you’d like to admit… 
The morning is crisp, the moist and warm summer air had yet to fall over the small cottage you resided in. Just like any other morning you’re up and about, quietly shuffling throughout the tiny space as you pack today’s essentials. You were thinking of bringing along a book, perhaps you would read out loud to the dragon, any form of entertainment would surely brighten its mood. 
Your eyes roam the crowded bookshelves, stuffed with literature of all kinds. From herbal tea recipes to novels and history books. The pad of your finger stops atop one of the shorter pieces, something you’d easily be able to finish within the day or the next. But before you can as much as pull it from its spot, squeezed between two thick history books, the sound of a floorboard creaking startles you. 
“It’s a little early to be up reading.” Your aunt Fiona sounds like she’s just caught a thief in the midst of its burglary. And when you turn to face her, you find a satisfied smirk stretched across her thin lips. — “I…” Your words fall short, your throat suddenly thick with a fear you couldn’t quite place. “Well I was just-” 
“You know I’ve noticed you sneaking around lately.” Fiona takes a step forward, and you start to wonder if she’d perhaps gotten up early solely with the intention of catching you. Her eyes gleam with satisfaction when they land on the book you had been reaching for just moments ago. — “Gone all day without as much as a word, you worry you old grandpa.” 
Your aunt would often use your grandfather as a pressure point, knowing that the mention of him would get you to crack. She takes another two steps forward, stopping a mere feet away. “Perhaps you’re trying to get out of your chores”, she nods toward the garden outside, even though it had been left unattended for a mere week. 
You shake your head, immediately trying to deny the accusations she was pinning on you. “It’s not-” — “Then what?” Fiona cuts you short, her voice snappy as her face twists into a small grimace. “What could be keeping you from your frail and old grandpa?” She had a point, and the fact that she did was a bitter thought indeed. You should be spending more time with your grandfather, you should be helping your aunt around the house, there are a lot of things you should be doing. 
The sound of your swallow is painstakingly loud, shattering through the brief silence. “I know…” You bow your head, shame trapping your will to go see the dragon up in the mountain. “I’m sorry.” 
Fiona seems satisfied with your answer. She purses her lips, humming to herself as she eyes the bag flung over your shoulder. “Leave it here”, she points to the sofa on your right, “You won’t be needing it for now.” — Reluctantly you do as she says, letting it drop to the soft cushion before turning to your aunt with disappointment surely written across your face. If she catches it, she doesn’t bother to acknowledge it. Part of you is relieved that she seems to have little interest in prying further. 
“The garden needs tending to”, she states before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs, likely with the intention of waking your cousins. But as she reaches the first step, she throws a glance over her shoulder, her sharp gaze landing on your still unmoving frame. Her eyes narrow, “And don’t even think about leaving the house until you’re finished.” 
You could understand your aunt’s reasoning. Raising three children and taking care of her sick dad would surely take its toll on anyone. Fiona was strong, a lot stronger than most people seemed to think. Usually you did not mind helping her, for it made you feel useful. — But today your heart yearns to be elsewhere. You find yourself glancing toward the mountain, your thoughts occupied by the pale dragon, the image of its icy gaze burned into your mind. 
Because of that you find yourself hurrying through your tasks. Your fingers pull carrots from the moist soil, they pick basil from the fresh plants and pluck ripe apples from the old apple tree that leans to the right. Sweat dribbles down your forehead, and you mindlessly wipe it with the back of your hand as you carry on forward. 
The work felt tedious today, and you stole peeks at the kitchen window, trying to catch a glimpse of your aunt as she moved about the house. When finally, after what felt like decades, your basket is filled to the brim with fresh nutrients, and the plants had all been watered and tended to, you return inside. 
Setting the heavy bag down on the kitchen table, you look for Fiona, but she’s nowhere to be found. Your eyes drift toward the living room, lingering on the book you’d reached for that morning. You had done your chores for the day, so there was technically no harm in sneaking away, if only for a few hours. 
𓍼ོ 
Your way up the steep mountain feels lighter that afternoon. Your steps have a slight skip to them as you bounce forward. Nothing seemed to weigh you down, not even the full on scolding that you might receive from your aunt upon your arrival back home. 
By now you find the lily with ease, its familiar and bright pink hue standing out perfectly among the clear and white snow. You’re excited, giddy even. The thought of spending time with the grumpy dragon brought you a kind of joy that should definitely concern you, and had you been any wiser, you probably wouldn’t have entered the cave that afternoon. 
It was even colder than last time, yet the air was still, not a single gush of air hurling your way. You creep forward, without getting lost, because you’d acquainted yourself with the layout of the maze-like mountain. Now every twist and turn felt like a familiar face, one you’d seen so many times before and would always remember with a nostalgic smile. 
You enter the opening that leads into what you had begun to call ‘the dragon’s nest’. The name was quite silly, but you didn’t mind since you were the only one to use it. But a frown quickly finds its way to your face as you regard the empty space. — The dragon was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you take another couple of steps forward, instinctively calling out for it, “Hello?” 
There was, of course, no answer. You didn’t know what you had expected to come out of the simple greeting anyway. Rocking back and forth on the sole of your shoes, your mind rakes with different possibilities of what could have happened. Had it taken off? Maybe someone had found it, even worse, killed it. 
No, that couldn’t be right. 
Then you spot it, light. That was new, for the cave had been nothing but a room of complete darkness, ever since you first stepped foot here. Eager, you approach the source, forgetting all about your lantern as you discard it on the floor. Due to your previous visits being spent in such dim light, you had never noticed that the cave curled in on itself, leading even deeper than you’d originally thought. 
The squeeze to get through however, was tight. There was no way a dragon would be able to fit through here. Rough and cold stone scrapes against your chest and back as you push yourself between the rocks, determined to find your way to the other side, to the light. — With a heavy sigh you finally stumble free, bracing your hands on your knees as you allow yourself to catch your breath. 
When you glance up you realize that what you had stepped into was an even bigger part of the cave. But this one was basked in the warm rays of the sun. You’re almost blinded by the bright light, and you shield your eyes with your arm. Half the cave opened up and out into the sky. From here, the snowy mountains looked absolutely breathtaking. 
And as you regard the snow coated treetops, the way the sun reflected off the white surfaces, it suddenly hit that you had never actually stopped to admire your surroundings. Each day had been a battle to the top, never once had you taken a break to glance around, to appreciate nature in its truest and rawest form. 
But your moment of serenity is quickly broken by the sound of what you assumed to be a rock rolling across the cavern floors, the noise ripping you from your trance. You spin around, eyes wide as you try to locate its source, all to no avail. This part of the cave seemed just as empty as the last and the frown on your face only grew. 
The dragon was really gone. 
Then, just as you’re about to turn back, all air was knocked out of your lungs. The first thing you feel is pain, sharp and flaring through your body when your back is slammed against the cave wall. Your scream never makes it past your lips. And suddenly, the light that had previously enveloped you whole, was gone, shielded by something – by someone. 
Your jaw hangs slack, the same terror you had felt on your first encounter with the dragon returning. It takes a moment for your flimmering eyes to adjust, but when they do you finally see the man before you. His face is dark, clouded by rage. The almost pitch black hair on his head falls in front of his eyes but you can hardly focus on his complexion, much too aware of the large hand he had wrapped around your throat. 
Your breath hitches, a faint and helpless gasp escaping your open mouth. Who was he? Why was he here… How did he know about this place? — But then your gaze falls on his naked chest, there, covered in gauze and moss, the very same gauze and moss you had so carefully wrapped around its once large wing.
Finally, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re dark and gloomy, but they’re familiar. As they narrow on you, there’s an undeniable hint of blue, shining within their irises depths – an icy and cold blue. 
You realize then that the man before you was the dragon himself. 
“I…” Desperately your fingers claw at his hand, trying to pry him off of you. The urge to speak is strong, but his vice-like grip overpowers it. His chest heaves, his breaths coming in ragged and rough, his hand around your throat tightening with deadly force. — “Why did you come back?” It’s the first time he utters as much as a word. It sounds strained, as though he’d gone years in silence. 
When he finally releases his hold on your neck you fall forward, clutching at your throat whilst gasping for air. He watches you soundlessly, his expression twisted into a scowl. “W-What..?” You finally manage to croak out, feeling as though your wobbly knees were about to give out any second now. 
The man scoffs, his fist connects with the cave wall next to you and the stones crack under his knuckles. “You should not have come here”, he barks, fury radiating off of him. “You do not belong here, human.” 
He says the term with such distaste, making it sound derogatory. Perhaps it was. Yet you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it. This was the very same dragon you’d been tending to for almost a whole week now. The creature in which you’d poured your love and affection onto, carefully building what you thought to be a relationship based on trust. 
But as he stands before you in his human form, you hardly recognize him. 
The man takes a step back, leaving you to exhale in relief. He turns away from you, as if trying to disregard your presence completely. You watch as he approaches the edge of the cave, where the bright sky meets the dark mountain. — Even with his back turned, you could tell that he was beautiful, breathtaking. 
“I don’t understand…” Your quiet whisper seems to echo, a sound that you should be used to by now. Still, you can’t help but cower at the intensity of your words. The drag- man, does not turn to look behind him, does not spare you as much as a single glance. “It is not for you to understand”, he firmly states, his tone holding a bitter and resentful edge. 
You shake your head, “I helped you-” — “You humiliated me.” He’s looking at you now, his cold gaze reaching you from across the cave. Your stomach drops at the statement. Have you done something wrong? You thought you were helping… “You degraded me by putting your filthy human hands on me.” He spits the words out, his voice laced with a venom so poisonous that it sunk into your veins. 
“You were hurt-” 
“I would have been fine”, he snaps. You feel frozen under his stare, unable to move as you shrink against the cave wall. He glances toward the bandage around his chest, the traces of what you had thought to be a gesture of kindness and empathy was something he regarded with hatred. It hurt. His jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists by his side. 
“You should leave.” 
Your blood ran cold at that and your lips part, an objection ready on your tongue. But he’s quick to realize that you won’t budge. With a small grunt he turns his back on you a second time, as he does, you catch a glimpse of the many scars slashed across his skin. They were a bright white, appearing healed though it seemed not even time could make them fade completely.
Before you can get another word out, before you can reach for him – he leaps off the edge. A terrified scream leaves your lips, and you slap a hand across your open mouth in shock. For a second you thought that he might have actually taken his own life, right before your very eyes. Everything is silent at that moment, and you do not dare move. 
The sound of wings, slapping against the cold air is what gives you new hope. You see him, the pale blues easily giving him away as he pierces through the clouds, riding out the hurling winds. Your heart aches at the sight, for reasons unbeknownst to you, reasons you don’t think you wanted to get to the bottom of. 
Suppose you would miss him, the lonely dragon. 
𓍼ོ
Days passed. Days that would soon turn into weeks. The reality of your otherwise mundane life slowly sunk in, like fog easing its way from the ground after a rainy day. Only there was no sun to greet you after such gloomy weather. Your life seemed bleak these days. You did not know if that had to do with the absence of the dragon, whose name you never got, or your grandfather, whose health was declining each day. 
Your days had shifted, and you no longer spent as much time in the garden. Hours upon hours were passed in the presence of your grandpa. His hand in yours as your thumbs caress his old and wrinkled skin. — He would cough a lot, and you could tell that it his condition was starting to wear him out. Regardless of that, he continued to drag on his long stories about the dragons, only with slightly less action. 
Because even his stoires had found new attention. 
“You know, they were actually quite crafty too.” Your grandpa’s voice is hoarse, and sometimes you need to strain your ears in order to hear him. Nevertheless, you sit by his rockingchair as he inistied on not spending his entire days bedridden. A blanket is placed over his lap, for he easily got cold these days, despite it being late summer still. 
“The dragons?” You ask, to which your grandfather nods. “Ineed, in their human form of course. - And they were quite talkative too”, he recalls with a smile on his lips. You wanted to disagree on the matter, for the ice dragon you met had been anything but friendly. You thought you could still remember the glare he’d sent you, one that had stung through flesh and bone.
Your grandpa is attacked by another fit of coughs, and you help as best as you can by gently patting his back. “They sound lovely”, you murmur when readjusting the blanket over his legs. He gives your hand a thankful squeeze, humming in agreement. — “They are. Oh how I wish you should have known the gentle ways of a dragon, I think you would like it.” 
He remains silent for a brief moment, his tired eyes lingering on the open window. The soft and warm summer breeze occasionally brushed past, sending a refreshing wave of air your way. Outside your younger cousins play, their screams of both joy and youth bounce off the trees. “Even my daughter might come to terms with it, had she just given them a chance.” 
Something in the warm summer air shifted then, a darker cloud pulling over the otherwise clear sky. For long you had avoided the subject, danced around it because you were afraid, not of asking, but for receiving an answer. Still, your curiosity could not be contained, and as you witness your grandfather in his final moments, you realize that there might not be another oppurtitny for you to ask. 
You clear your throat, shifting on your own chair as your hands remained clasped around your grandpa’s. “Say… What happened with my great grandfather?” You present the questions calmly, yet you avoid his eyes, your attention fixed on your intertwined fingers. — With a wheeze-like inhale, your grandpa sighs. 
“You have not asked about him before”, he states and you can feel the slight tremble to his hands as they rest in your own. “No”, you say, “I haven’t.” You knew that avoiding this could not go on for forever, he knew it too. Your grandfather nods, taking another deep breath that seemed to cost a lot of effort. 
“My father was a fearless man..” He begins telling it like he would any other story, but there’s a definite melancholic edge to his tone. “He was the closest our family ever got to the dragons”, he pauses, eyes flickering to met yours for a brief second, “Some even speculate that he fell in love with one of them.” 
Your jaw slacks at that, the surprise evident on your face. “In love?” You echo, to which your grandfather chuckles. “She was a most beautiful woman, a man would be stupid not to recognize such, and my father was far from stupid.” He leans back in his rocking hair, it makes a creaking noise beneath his weight as it shifts backward every so slightly. 
“They did spend a great deal of time together, much so that it worried the others.” — “Days could pass without my father returning from the mountains once. It’s quite confusing for a young boy such as myself to be left with his absence. - But I knew then, that my father’s love for the dragons was something I should aspire for myself.” 
He made it sound beautiful, a lot more than it should have been. This was no fairytale for its ending was most gruesome. You knew that without having to ask. And with a heavy sigh, one that made his chest puff out before it shrunk again, your grandpa seems to come to terms with how the story had ended. 
“Despite their love she still carried the deadly traits of the dragon. - But his death was never her fault.” Your grandpa turns to you with a solemn smile, “That’s what he would have wanted me to say.” 
He doesn’t continue, even though you thought that he might. No, for once, your grandpa seems content with a shorter story, one that spoke for itself. Strangely enough it made you think of the dragon up in the mountain, he was not the same yet he was everything a dragon represented. He confused you, you told yourself that it was the reason he lingered in your mind, even when he shouldn’t. 
𓍼ོ
Ingredients for your grandfather’s medicine were of best produce if you harvested them yourself. Your aunt Fiona had therefore urged you out the house that morning, making you embark on a rather long walk as you searched for the plant she desired. It was of magical properties supposedly, and therefore it grew only under magical conditions. 
Lunarspore, or something along those lines was what it was called. A small, purple mushroom that thrived best in the murky waters of warm lagoons. Such a place did indeed exist on the island of Aethera, and as all humans, you knew its dangers. — Mushrooms weren’t the only thing that fed off of the almost glowing water. Beneath the surface lurked creatures far beyond any will of good. 
Your feet come to a halt by the edge of the lake, your eyes narrowed as they peered across the thicker layer of fog that coated the misty surface. An uneasy feeling bubbles within your stomach, but you don’t turn back around despite your gut instinct screaming for you to do just that. Instead, you crouch down by the water, gaze searching for the round and plump mushroom. 
It takes a while, but soon enough you stumble across one. With a relieved exhale you reach for the small knife stashed in your belt, flicking it in your open palm before reaching out to snag tha plant. You’re disappointed by its size, you would have expected them to be bigger. “This thing would barely last us a week..” You mutter as you begin searching for another one straight away. 
To your surprise you find a second mushroom almost immediately. But to your dismay it was further out in the lagoon. You hesitate, gaze flickering between the safety of land and the need for the mushroom ahead. These waters scared you, and you did not want to wade out further than absolutely necessary. — In the end your desire to help your sick grandfather wins you over. With one tug, you pull your dress above your knees as you begin your descent into the lagoon. 
For each step you take forward the water seems to get warmer. A strange and almost calm feeling washes over you, it puts you at ease, even as your mind yells for you to turn back. You ignore the strange sensations and keep your eyes set on the target ahead. Finally, as you reach the mushroom, you reach for it, but before the blade of your knife can slice it from its roots, a quiet whisper pulls your attention to the left. 
Nothing but still and purple water fills your vision, yet you can’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone. Something, someone, was there with you, lurking and stalking where your weak human eyes couldn’t see. The whisper is soft, it sounds almost like a melody, a sweet and enticing tune. You know you shouldn’t listen, you should scream for its silence and beg for your life. 
But you can’t help but fall under its trance. 
The water moves, gentle waves brushing against your naked legs. Your dress falls from the now loose grasp of your fingers, the cotton immediately being soaked up by the lagoon. The mushroom is long forgotten and the knife threatens to slip from your hands. 
You see it now, long and flowy hair reaching the surface, its arms outstretched as it approaches. But you do not feel fear, in fact your whole body is calm, frozen in place as you watch the siren approach. You knew what was coming yet you couldn’t find it in you to lift as much as a finger in order to stop it. 
Its wet and long fingers lock around your wrist, slowly tugging you toward the murky water. Its song rings clear in your ears now, but you cannot make out as much as a single word. You allow yourself to be pulled, the water is warm and inviting, enveloping you whole. For a moment you forget about everything, nothing exists and time is not real. 
But then, just as your head was about to submerge under the surface, something hard and sharp hits you across the stomach. You’re lunged backward, snatched from the siren’s gentle but firm grip and hurled into the sky. At first, you’re too dazed to even realize what had just happened, but when your vision finally clears, and you behold the ground so far beneath you, is when you scream. 
Everything was moving at an alarming speed, the wind whistling in your ears, the sound followed by that of winds slapping against the air. You glance up only to be met by the very same dragon you thought you had seen for the last time. He’s looking straight ahead, clearly unbothered by your terror as you squirm in the gras of his long claws. 
If he let go now, you would fall to your immediate death, reduced to nothing more but a pile of shattered limbs as you melt against the ground. The thought scared the living daylights out of you and you stop fighting and instead cling onto him with all your might. 
You’re… confused. Why was he here? After your last encounter you’d been certain that you were to never cross paths again. Yet here he was, not only that… He’d saved you. You dare another glance down, beneath you your surroundings are changing quickly. From up here they all seemed small and insignificant, even the lagoon which you had almost fallen victim to. 
Your eyes shift toward the dragon, watching as his now healed wings tore through the sky, carrying you to a destination still unknown. You swallow, feeling at loss for words. His hold on you was firm, but it didn’t hurt but you felt pathetically weak squeezed between his claws. — The questions of why and how continue to run through your jumble of thoughts, even when the snowy mountain comes into vision. 
Up here, the mountain seems a lot smaller, lesser. Fog covers the bottom half of it, making it impossible to even get a peek of the ground itself. He aims for an opening, one so familiar that your stomach dropped all the way to your toes. You knew exactly where he was taking you now. 
He slows down, large wings twisting in the air as he comes to an almost abrupt halt. You shriek when the claws around you loose, making you slip from their hold. But the wet and cold cave floor isn’t far, and you land on wobbly feet with a small thud. The dragon quickly joins you, but the sound of him landing is not the loud and powerful noise you’re expecting, and when you turn around, you find him in human form again. 
He runs his fingers through his dark hair with a small shake off his head, it looked almost as though he was dusting himself off. Your eyes trail across his muscular frame, something you had barely allowed yourself to look at last time. Briefly you wonder why he always seemed to appear without a shirt or any garment to cover his chest, but when your gaze flickers over his toned stomach, you find that you did not mind. 
Dark yet cold and almost icy eyes flit over to you, and they narrow as he catches you staring. You blink, pulling your invading gaze from him as it jumps across the cave, one you had been in before, both of you. It’s then that reality slowly washes over you, you were here, with him, and he’d just saved you from a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to say. 
“Thank you.” 
You smile, hoping that the sincerity and your gratitude would show. But the man only frowns, his stoic features twisting into confusion as he watches you from the other side of the cave, a far and safe distance from you. “What for?” He grunts, the disbelief in his voice clear as day. 
With parted lips you find yourself mimicking his perplexed expression. “You saved me…” Because he did, right? But he only shakes his head, emitting a small scoff as his jaw clenches. “The siren, the lagoon, I was… I would be..” — “You would be dead”, he calmly states, the simplicity to his tone made you want to shiver. 
“I paid my end of the bargain”, he then says and for a moment you could not wrap your head around what he meant by that. Then it all came together. He was making amends for his broken wing, the one you had so carefully tended to, even without his compliance or permission.. Still he was willing to do the same for you, even if only to pay back the debt that seemed to weigh him down. 
“Now we no longer have any reason to see each other”, he states as a matter of factly. You can’t tell if he looks relieved or merely tired, or perhaps maybe just at peace. He turns from you, and you panic, worried that he was about to take off once more. You don’t think you could stand seeing him leave, not again. Truth was, you had grown quite attached to the dragon… Yet you knew so little about him. 
“You have yet to tell me your name.” It was the first question that came to mind. You bite your tongue, but when his eyes only narrow you quickly add, “You know mine.” It was true, you had told him your own name on your third or fourth encounter, for it had felt rude not to introduce yourself when tending to his wounds. 
He scoffs, averting his gaze as it roams the now pink sky, painted by the warm hues of the slowly setting sun. His cold skin looked raw under the orange rays, and you find yourself mesmerized by everything that is him. You had so many questions for him, so many answers you longed to hear. Was he really the last ice dragon? How did they all die, and why had he lived? 
Everything is silent for a minute, much so that you swore you heard the song of birds in the far distance. Then he exhales, a long and low breath. Without looking at you he says, “Taehyun.” 
“Taehyun is my name.” 
You instantly smile, practically beaming toward him. “That’s a beautiful name”, you hum. Taehyun snorts, giving a small roll of his eyes as he turns away from you to peer out over the sky. “There’s hardly anything beautiful about a dragon.” He says it so quietly, almost a whisper. It was probably never intended for your ears, but you hear it. 
Why did he loathe his own kind? How could he be ashamed of something so majestic as himself. It made no sense. — Your feet move on their own, slowly carrying you across the cave. You never stop to think, and Taehyun does not turn your way. Then, before you know it, you’re beside him. 
His skin is cold against your lips when you press a hesitant kiss to his cheek. His jaw twitches, and you feel his heavy gaze on you once you pull back. His dark brows are furrowed into a confused frown, but he doesn’t look angry. “It’s how we say thank you.” You smile in a way you hadn’t in ages. 
Taehyun watches you, his eyes studying your face intently, as if considering his next move carefully. “You humans are strange”, he mutters, but there’s an almost teasing edge to his tone, much different from his usual gloomy demeanor. “A good strange or a bad strange?” You ask as you nervously pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 
He shakes his head, turning to face your way and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize just how close you were standing. His expression is still hardened, as if stuck in a permanent frown. Within his dark irises swirl strings of cold blue, and they seemed to shimmer under the setting sun. 
You tense up when he suddenly moves even closer, his ice cold chest brushing against your flaring hot one. “Good”, he exhales, his cool breath slapping your across the face when he leans in to press his lips against yours. His kiss is not the same sweet and hesitant gesture you’d given, but it’s not rough either. It’s… him. 
A single shiver runs down your spine when his hand snakes to the back of your neck. It was so very different from when he’d had his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing with all his might. He touched you like you were made of porcelain, one push too far would make you shatter in his palm, and he would be unable to piece you back together. 
The kiss goes on for forever, time slows down until it ceases to exist. You want to watch him, drink in his almost serene expression. Yet your eyes flutter closed as you return the gesture. Never did you question why he did it, because that didn’t matter. He felt so perfect against you, as if he was made for you and you only. Perhaps in another universe he was, in a universe where you were just like him, and not a weak and frail human. 
He pulls back, lips parting only an inch from your own, his forehead resting against yours. He’s breathing softly, the tension washed from his face as he regards your flustered one. “That’s how we say thank you”, he murmurs. 
“Why are you thanking me?” You whisper, your wide eyes peering into his. Taehyun sighs, blinking slowly as he swallows. “I don’t know. Why are you thanking me?” — You smile, your shoulders slumping into a shrug. “I don’t know.” 
You saved him, and he saved you. A favor for a favor. You were no longer bound to the other yet it somehow felt like your heart was going to break into a million pieces if you let go now. Taehyun inhales slowly, his nostrils flaring when he does. “Can I kiss you again?” He wonders, and the question makes you almost delirious. 
“Yes.” You’re already pressing your lips against his, desperate to feel him on you once more. He smiles into the kiss, a gesture so warm and contrasting to the cold and freezing layer of ice covering him. — Your hands are on his naked chest, fingers splayed across the now healed scar. The soft groan he emits vibrates on your tongue, urging your bodies flush against one another. 
“You’re so warm”, he murmurs against your skin as his kisses move to your cheek and down your jaw. Your head falls back, the sunset basking the two of you in color, the world outside silently watching. — “You’re cold..” You whisper, your fingers intertwining in his dark hair regardless. 
Taehyun chuckles, a sound you’d never before heard him make, it made your heart flutter. “I am”, he hums, his own hands trailing down your sides, relishing in the way you shiver as you stubbornly cling to him. The cold could not deter you, it never had and it never would. For Taehyun’s heart held all the warmth you should ever need. 
The kiss ends for a split second in order for you to catch your breaths. Soft sounds of heavy panting fill the large cave, echoing off its dark and wet walls. You swallow, taking the moment to find your bearings as you gaze into his shimmering eyes. You knew then that he was someone you could trust, with your life if need be. It made your next move all the more obvious. 
As you brush a dark strand from his face, you exhale. “I… There’s someone I want you to meet.” 
𓍼ོ
“Careful”, you murmur as you lead your grandfather through the high grass. He coughs and tries to swat your hands away but you insist on keeping a firm hold around his shoulders. “There, there, don’t wear yourself out.” 
“Pfft-” Your grandpa scoffs, shaking his head as he trudges on forward. “I haven’t been out and about like this in weeks, I’ve saved plenty of energy for the occasion.” He assures you. But you could tell by his laboured breathing and trembling arms that he was tired. You would have felt bad bringing him out here, wasting his precious energy like that. — But today was different. 
“Why are we even out here anyways? You can hardly expect me to help harvest any herbs..” He mutters as his tired eyes flicker across the open meadow. It was calm, the late summer air basking the two of you in a warm glow. “No grandpa”, you smile as you pat his shoulder, “That’s not why we’re here.” 
Your old man hums, giving a small nod as you come to a stop in the middle of the opening. “I have seen grass before, dear.” He gives you a pointed look and you can’t help but giggle as you shake your head. “I know, you’ve seen what I’m about to show you before too… But I still think you’ll like it.” 
Your grandfather raises a brow your way, his lips parting as if to say something, but before he gets the chance to, the trees ahead rustle. The sound snaps both of your attention that way, and you manage to catch a glimpse of your grandpa’s curious eyes just as Taehyun emerges from the forestline. 
When you’d first asked him, the request felt pushy, perhaps a little too much, but to your greatest joy, he’d agreed. The white and blue scales on his skin shimmer in the sunlight, and his nearly translucent wings seem to sparkle when he moves closer. He looks magical, hauntingly beautiful. But you force your gaze away from him and over to your grandfather. 
He was watching Taehyun with a slack jaw, his eyes wide as sausages and you’re glad that you’re holding on to him when his legs buckle. “That..” He begins, his mouth dried up and his voice hoarse. He turns to you, as if in disbelief before quickly glancing back toward the dragon before him. “Is he real?” He quietly whispers and you bite back a giggle. 
“Of course”, you say as you take his hand in yours. “Do you want to get closer?” The question was hardly needed for your grandfather moves with both newfound strength and speed as he approaches Taehyun who’s standing a mere ten feet away. He stops only when the dragon’s cold breath caresses his old and wrinkly face, a smile unlike anything you’d seen before etching its way across his lips. 
“He’s real”, your grandpa states, and you swore you could see the happiness blooming in his heart. His gaze wanders across Taehyun’s blue scales, a small frown tugging on his brows. “He’s…” — “An ice dragon”, you nod, “They’re not extinct.” 
Taehyun makes a small sound that comes across as half a grunt, half a snort. Your grandfather doesn’t seem to mind, far too preoccupied with taking in the sight before him. “How?” He whispers as he reaches a trembling hand out to touch the very tip of Taehyun’s cold nose. The action is intimate, and it makes your heart swell.
You never give him an answer, you’re not sure what you could even say. All you knew was that you had made his final wish possible, nothing else could make you feel better. — He spends the entire day with Taehyun, and when he shifts into his human form the two converse for hours on end. You watch them, wordlessly admiring the two. From the way your grandpa’s face lit up whenever Taehyun spoke of his life, to the dragon himself when he listened to your grandfather’s stories. 
As the sun set you practically had to drag your old man home, promising that Taehyun would visit as soon as he had the chance. — Even though such a time never came. 
Your grandpa died that night, it was a peaceful death, one kind and gentle. You watched with tears in your eyes as he inhaled a last time, his chest rising as he did. And when he finally exhaled, everything stopped. Every story and every adventure of his were reduced to just that… tales. Something to remember and to cherish. 
You cried until the sun rose on the naked sky, your tears drying just in time for fresh ones to spill. You cried until your chest hurt and your lips were bitten bloody. You grieved your grandfather with every fiber of your being, until there was nothing left but large and hollow holes in your body, filled with an eternal sadness. 
Taehyun was there, he came when he heard your cries. Even though his embrace was cold and his arms freezing as they wrapped around you, there was never a moment where you felt yourself shiver. For there was warmth in his heart, enough for it to spread to your own. — Taehyun would help you live, just like you had helped him.
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theguywithaplan · 2 months ago
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List of Video Games turning ten (10) years old in 2025
Alone in the Dark: Illumination (if you thought the AitD game from last year was bad, check this shit out).
Angry Birds 2 (yes, there was a 2).
Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer
Animal Crossing: Amiibo Festival (two AC games from 2015 and neither of them were what people wanted).
Assassin's Creed Syndicate (the Bri'ish one).
Atelier Shallie
Axiom Verge
Batman: Arkham Knight
Battlefield: Hardline (the last game from Visceral Games, the guys who made the Dead Space series).
The Beginner's Guide (the second game from the creator of The Stanley Parable).
Bloodborne (anything for the 10th anniver-- no. Never gonna happen).
Broken Age
Call of Duty: Black Ops III
Chibi-Robo! Zip Lash
Cities: Skylines
Crypt of the NecroDancer
Devil's Third (one of the rarest Wii U games ever).
Disgaea 5: Alliance of Vengeance
Disney Infinity 3.0
Dragon Ball XenoVerse (the first one. not the second).
Dying Light
Evolve (these guys would go on to make Back 4 Blood).
Fallout 4
Fatal Frame: Maiden of Black Water
Final Fantasy Type-0 HD
Game of Thrones (the Telltale game)
Guitar Hero Live
Halo 5: Guardians
Hatred (a game so edgy and terrible that it got itself kicked off of Steam).
Helldivers (the first one).
Heroes of the Storm (the Blizzard MOBA).
Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number
HuniePop (for all you pervs out there).
I Am Bread
Just Cause 3
Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes (the quintessential VR game)
Kerbal Space Program
Kirby and the Rainbow Curse (one of the few Wii U games that hasn't been ported to the Switch. And probably never will be).
The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel
The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask 3D
The Legend of Zelda: Tri Force Heroes
Lego Dimensions (a crossover game with about a billion different franchises).
Lego Jurassic World
Life is Strange (controversial opinion: I sacrificed Chloe and felt nothing).
Mario Party 10 (the only MP on the Wii U)
Mario Tennis: Ultra Smash
Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain
Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate (back when the 3DS was single-handedly keeping MH alive)
Mortal Kombat X
Need for Speed (the reboot)
The Order: 1886
Ori and the Blind Forest
Pillars of Eternity
Pokemon Super Mystery Dungeon
Prison Architect
Rainbow Six: Siege
Rare Replay
Resident Evil: Revelations 2
Rise of the Tomb Raider
Rock Band 4
Rocket League
Saints Row: Gat Out of Hell (RIP Volition. You were too good for the modern day).
Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Skylanders: SuperChargers
Soma (the best horror game ever made. Play it if you haven't yet).
Splatoon
Star Wars: Battlefront (the EA reboot).
StarCraft II: Legacy of the Void (RIP StarCraft. You were too good for modern day Blizzard).
Steven Universe: Attack the Light!
Story of Seasons (the very fight one)
Super Mario Maker
Tales from the Borderlands (the best thing that Telltale EVER made).
Tales of Zestiria
Tembo the Badass Elephant (published by Sega and developed by Game Freak... the Pokemon guys).
Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 5
Total War: Attila
Transformers: Devastation (RIP PlatinumGames. You... kinda started sucking after Astral Chain).
Undertale (yep, it's happening).
Until Dawn
Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide
The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (just in time for the 4th game)
Wolfenstein: The Old Blood (remember, kids: Nazi lives don't matter).
Xenoblade Chronicles X (finally escaping the Wii U this year).
Yakuza 5
Yo-Kai Watch
Yoshi's Woolly World
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glow-worms-are-believers · 1 year ago
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Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3
Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)
Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell. 
That was another thing. Danny.
Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation. 
It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.
And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.
No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that. 
He could research. And so he did. 
And found nothing.
Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.
No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.
It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.
Damian breathed out slowly. 
It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.
An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.
Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.
“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”
That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.
“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”
Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.
“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.
“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.
“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”
“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.
“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”
Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far. 
“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”
“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”
Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it. 
Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.
“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.
“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”
This was getting insulting.
“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.
“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”
Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it. 
“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”
“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.
“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.
“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.
“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.
“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”
Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.
“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.
No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny
“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening. 
“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.
“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.
 “Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”
Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.
“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.
“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.
“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”
It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try. 
There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.
Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.
And then finally-
“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.
So this was it then. 
“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”
“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.
“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”
“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.
“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted. 
He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.
“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.
Whatever. He turned away and started walking.
It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.
It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted. 
The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.
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gabilina · 2 months ago
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Can you explain how Manon Blackbeak is a ripoff of Visenya Targaryen (I love Visenya)
Hi, virtual-dragon-almond-bakery! How are you? Thank you so much for your question.
I'm going to answer this in the best way I can but I don't know if I will be able to since this is my first Tumblr ask and my hands are shacking with excitement, but anyway this post will contain some spoilers, so if you haven't read Throne of Glass (TOG) or A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones (ASOIAF/GOT) or just any other George RR Martin's book and you don't want to be spoiled than don't read this post, but if you don't mind being spoiled than feel free to keep reading!
Before we start with the Manon/Visenya comparison I feel like we need to talk about how similar Manon is to Targaryens in general. As I mentioned in my previous post Manon IS very Targaryen coded. Even though some tog fans might argue that Manon's long, moon-white hair, and eyes of the color of burnt gold make her look different from most of the Targaryens whose main features are: pale skin, long, silver/gold/silver-gold/platinum hair and eyes in a variety of shades of light-blue/purple, the similarities are still hard to ignore, especially if we compare Manon's arts with those of the members of House Targaryen.
Manon Blackbeak-Crochan
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The Targaryen's
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Now onto the similarities between Manon and Visenya:
Their personalities
Monon in the Throne of Glass books is depicted as a person who is cruel, heartless, ruthless, yet cunning and resourceful. She is also described to be cold, uncaring, and icy. Meanwhile Visenya in Asoiaf is stern, serious, and unforgiving.
2. Their connections to the iron
In the world of Throne of Glass, there are 3 clans of witches: the Blackbeak Clan, the Blueblood Clan and the Yellowlegs Clan. Each of these clans belong to the group known as Ironteeth Witches.
As Ironteeth Witch, Manon has a specific physiology such as iron teeth and claws.
In George RR Martin's books, iron is also very important. As a metal, iron is used in tools and armaments. We also have ironborns, we have iron islands, but most importantly we have The Iron Throne which is a seat of the Lord of Seven Kingdoms. The Iron Throne was constructed by Aegon I Targaryen, also known as Aegon the Conqueror, first king of the Seven Kingdoms and Visenya's husband (and brother). It was made from the swords surrendered by Aegon's enemies.
3. Their connections to magic/sorcery
As I've said previously Manon is a witch but she's also the last surviving Queen of Witches. Visenya apart from being a skillful and powerful warrior was also rummored to be doing some magic stuff, including dark sorcery and poisons:
“Some claimed that Visenya dabbled in dark sorceries and played with poisons.” (Martin, A Wiki of Ice and Fire)
4. Dragons and blades
Just like Manon, Visenya is also a dragonrider. Her wyverns name is Vhagar, while Manon's wyvern is named Abraxos. What's interesting in all of this is how they named their dragons. Both of these names were associated with Gods of their respective series.
Manon named Abraxos after the Three Headed Goddess' pet and Visenya named Vhagar for one of the gods of Old Valyria
Apart from that they own swords, Manon - Wind-Cleaver and Visenya - the Valyrian steel longsword Dark Sister.
If you want more examples of this then go to @1800naveen blog and @autolykus one.
If someone has much more information on Manon/Visenya similarities or other Throne of Glass characters being Asoiaf characters copycats fell free to reblog and write about it.
Anyway that's for now. Hope you have a wonderful evening ❤️
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jumpywhumpywriter · 4 months ago
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Spinoff Story Vampire & Vampire Hunter part 1
Warnings: severe silver poisoning of vampire, ambush attack, fight scene
(Highly recommend reading the original series first for better context for those who haven't seen it yet - this spinoff story takes place 5 years after the original story ends)
I got OVERWHELMING requests for a spinoff/bonus story, so here it is! :)
Mallory wrung his hands anxiously as he walked up the long driveway to an old mansion. It gave him more time to think about exactly how bad of an idea this was. What was he thinking, coming here?!
But… he needed help. And the type of help he needed only one person could provide. The danger he was up against was one no human could overcome.
Once he reached the giant wooden door at the front he stood and stared for a long five minutes. He could still turn tail and run…
…But he didn't. It wasn't merely his own life on the line. There was a lot more at stake. He needed this to work.
He lifted his hand, hesitated, then steeled his nerves and knocked lightly. The door opened a heartbeat later, and a frighteningly familiar figure stood before him. He instinctively wanted to recoil, and only managed not to flinch in fear by sheer willpower alone, even though he already knew who would be answering the door in advance. It was different to see him in person again. The cause of so much pain and trauma.
"Well, well, what a surprise. What has become of the famed hunter and why is it on my doorstep?" Alex's polished voice drawled. The vampire's eyes were wide with surprise, before they narrowed suspiciously. "Are you alone?" He growled, his voice losing its teasing edge.
Mallory knew a trap when he heard one. The vampire would be able to tell from his heartbeat if he was lying. And he was most definitely not alone.
"I came here because we need to talk," he said with a sigh, dodging the loaded question entirely.
Alex tilted his head slowly to the side and stared at him in such a distinctly predatory way it made Mallory shiver, like a cat locking sights on an interesting piece of prey. "Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "You must be rather desperate, to come to me for help. Why risk me ripping your throat out... unless your situation was dire?"
"It certainly is a serious matter," Mallory replied, and subtly shifted to the side a little, no longer facing Alex head-on.
But Alex didn't miss it, his pupils sharpening. "What game are you playing, human?" He hissed, his voice dropping low and dangerous. "Why are you really here?"
Mallory froze, mouth dry. He was caught. "I really do need your help," he said, but his voice came out thinner than before, more nervous. "...But probably not in a way you'll approve of." What was taking so long...?
Alex's piercing gaze was zeroed in on him, cold and calculating, until the snap of a twig in the forest behind him gave it all away. Alex's eyes went huge in realization. But there wasn't time for even a fast vampire like him to react.
Three loud bangs, followed by three objects whistling through the air, and Alex jerked backward in the doorway, roaring in pain, three feathered darts lodging in his front with puffs of silver dust.
Alex yanked the darts out and smashed them on the floor, before lunging straight at Mallory with hands outstretched, skin sizzling everywhere the silver dust had touched him. His eyes were dark with white-hot rage.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He snarled angrily.
Mallory barely sprung out of reach in time to avoid the attack, darting around him and bolting into the mansion.
Predictably, Alex whirled around to pursue, snapping and hissing like a feral animal, and two more darts zipped out of the forest to hit him in the back of his shoulder. He howled in agony, clawing the darts out of his skin before slamming the door shut to keep more darts from finding their marks. Then he spun back toward Mallory, who was cautiously backing away from the enraged vampire.
"What... was... THAT?" Alex barked viciously, and took a lurching step toward the hunter -- stumbling.
Mallory had the audacity to look a little guilty. "Sorry, but I didn't trust you to hear me out without trying to imprison me again -- so I took some precautions."
"PRECAUTIONS?!" Alex shrieked indignantly. "You call THIS 'precautions'?! This is a murder attempt!" He rushed forward and caught Mallory by surprise, charging his shoulder into him and tackling the human to the floor, pinning him down with a hand on each wrist holding them to the floor above his head.
The vampire was absolutely livid, eyes blazing as he glared down at Mallory. "I warned you what would happen if you returned here with other hunters," he snarled in his face. "Truce is over. I'm going to rip every last one of your team's human throats out--" his voice ended in a choked cough of air as Mallory kicked him hard in the stomach with both feet, throwing the vampire off him.
"This isn't meant to be a hunt!" Mallory argued defensively, scrambling back up.
Alex sprung back to his feet, but swayed unsteady, brow furrowed with dazed confusion. The world was tilting -- why was everything spinning? Silver dust darts were meant to blind and weaken vampires -- but why was his strength fading so fast? It shouldn't be affecting him this severely...
"What did you... do to me?" Alex hissed, voice slurring. It shouldn't have been that easy for the human to throw him off, and his chest tightened with fear -- raw, genuine fear, something so old and foreign he'd forgotten it existed anymore. The fear of not being able to fight back, the fear of no longer holding the power in the room. He stalked menacingly toward Mallory, fangs bared -- but wobbled, lurching and staggering as he tried to attack again with a body that just... wouldn't... cooperate!
Alex took a clumsy swipe at Mallory, but the hunter gave him a hard shove in the chest, and to Alex's own disbelief, he moved with the motion, almost losing his balance entirely. He was usually rigid as a boulder.
"Don't fight me, Alex," Mallory said grimly. "You won't win. Those darts contained silver and heavy doses of Hemlock, which would usually be lethal to humans -- but only acts as a strong sedative to vampires. It won't kill you, I promise."
"You little bastard--" Alex growled through gritted teeth, making another angry lunge for him -- but he crumpled to the floor instead, legs buckling and refusing to support him anymore. His whole body hurt with the silver dust coursing through his veins, suffering severe silver poisoning. And the worst part was, the hunter was right -- it would be agony in the meantime, but it wouldn't be enough to kill him. Only enough to neutralize and incapacitate. But why would he possibly need him alive?
Alex's swirling vision was starting to darken around the edges, and he felt rather than saw Mallory crouch next to him, and heard the door to his own mansion come crashing in -- several other blurry shapes coming to loom over him alongside Mallory. He bared his teeth weakly, breathing harsh and strained.
"Huh, you weren't lying about the vampire," an unfamiliar voice said. "You sure this will work?"
"I suppose we'll find out soon," Mallory's voice answered. "Get him ready to transport back to base."
Alex groaned in protest as he felt cuffs clamp down on his ankles and wrists, restraining him. He mustered all his strength into glaring at Mallory with every ounce of venom he could manage. "I never should have let you go," he hissed. "When I get out of this, I swear to you I will--" he didn't get to finish, as something sharp was forced into his mouth, followed by the feeling of something being strapped to his face.
He was being muzzled, he realized in horror. And now he was helpless and weak at the mercy of humans, of all things. He didn't know what they planned to do with him, but it couldn't be good.
Alex's eyelids slowly slipped shut and his body relaxed against his will, the darkness rushing in to take him, and the sound of the hunters bustling around him soon faded into a dull, static buzz.
He hadn't gotten to finish his threat... but he never lies.
And then his thoughts were no more.
Next ⏩️
Masterlist
@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump
@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump
@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10
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fortheunsungheros · 6 months ago
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𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝑭𝒊𝒄 (𝑨𝑼)
*For clarification, Y/N was in the car at the time of the Curtis parents death. She survived though, with only a few injuries*
TW: Mentions of blood, car accident, death, small panic attack
1st Person Y/N POV:
Everything is coming back. The car is on the train tracks. I see my mother. I see her platinum blonde hair infested with a crimson liquid.
Blood.
The same hair my mother had just brushed out of her face was now different. Five minutes changed everything. My father is slumped over the steering wheel. The same steering wheel where he taught Darry how to drive is where my dad's lifeless body lay.
I feel my head pound so hard as if someone was knocking on a steel door. My left side aches in an unexplainable yet excruciating way. I taste a metallic sensation in my mouth. It reminds me of when I was little and lost my first tooth after Soda bonked my head into a wall. I hear the sound of a police siren wailing. Wait, it's getting closer.
I desperately try to sit up to help my parents but my body overpowers itself. I realize my right thigh has a huge gash letting out an immense amount of blood. My mouth cannot help but wince in pain. A single tear comes sliding down my cheek followed by many more. My own tear lands on my thigh and I yell out in agony. My body begins to shake in fear.
The sirens, they're coming closer. The repetitive wailing plays in my head like the nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to me. I suddenly see red and blue flashing lights. "Help" is all I can mutter. The emergency service lights begin to fade away. What are they doing?
"Y/N....Y/N....wake up you're having a nightmare." A voice says to me as they gently shake my shoulders.
I sit up in a panic, a cold sweat overfills my body to an uncomfortable degree. I glance my surroundings. It's my bedroom. Another tear falls from my cheek as I raise my hand to wipe it away. I look at over at my bedside. There kneels Darry with a remarkably soft demeanor.
"Hey, you were calling for help in your sleep again kid. You haven't done that in a while. Did something happen?" My brother asks protectively as he cracks his neck.
"No...it's just been bad recently... I can't stop getting back in that car, I'm sorry that you had to get out of bed Dar." I say softly as Darry wipes another tear that slips off of my cheek.
"Hey, none of that sorry shit Y/N. I'm your older brother, it's mine and Soda's job to protect you. Well, technically Pony too but I know you don't like to bring up that fact." Darry says with a small chuckle.
I follow his laugh with my own, as I glance at my nightstand and notice my clock reads 4:27 am.
"Dar, don't you have work tomorrow?" I ask inquiringly.
"Yeah kiddo, I do. But I was thinking about calling off. I haven't called off in God knows when and I need a break." He says letting out a sigh. He runs a hand through his short chestnut hair and sighs once more.
We sit in a comfortable silence for a while until he finally speaks up, "What about you sleep in my bed tonight, just like we did when we were kids? It might make you feel better." He says to me in a comforting tone.
"Yeah, that would be nice." I say in reply as a happy grin paints my face.
We both get up and walk to his bedroom that lays just down the hallway. In a matter of seconds, we
have arrived in his room. He allows me to settle into the bed first. The familiar aroma of cheap cologne and a sweaty teenage boy encapsulates my senses immediately as I hit the pillow.
Seconds after I lay down, the opposing side of the bed sinks down. Darry lazily throws a protective arm over my stomach. With his other hand, he gives me a gentle noogie on the head.
"Hey. I love you kid. You're my favorite sibling I've got. You're never annoying, well most of the time you're not." Darry says with a laugh.
I mirror his actions and begin to close my eyes. We lay like this for what seems like hours until the silence is broken like an egg in the morning hours.
"Y/N, you awake?" I respond by shaking my head lethargically. "What do you say we go to that new bowling alley that opened up with the gang tomorrow? I heard that the place is great." Darry asks me.
"Of course that sounds fun!" I say with as much energy as possible for 5 o'clock in the morning.
After just a few minutes, both of us are sound asleep - without nightmares in sight.
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m-jelly · 2 years ago
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Royal flush
Levi x fem!Reader
Modern AU, fluff, romance, casinos, gambling, drinking of alcohol, flirting, gangster Levi, rich Levi.
After being forced along to a massive casino for the rich, you get bored and go to the bar. While at the bar, you are joined by a handsome raven-haired stranger who promises to show you a good time and all the money gambled will be his. You go for it. The night is full of fun and laughs and then it ends with him getting you a room and staying at your side as you fall asleep.
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn
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The casino was a buzz with the rich flaunting their money. Every cent that was exchanged went right into the Acker company and then was rewired to make free hospitals for the poor, along with homes for the needy. Acker was very much like a Robin Hood operation, some minor criminal activities were used to help those in need.
With a frustrated sigh, Levi walked through the main floor buzzing with activity. Rich couples were making bets, cash was thrown around and chips were being slammed down. Greed was oozing from every corner of the room. Every laugh, scream and cry made Levi wince due to the unsufferable volume.
As if a spell was cast on him, the world slowed down and the loud voices became a dull murmur when he cast his steel blue eyes over to the cocktail bar to see the most divine woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. He strolled across the room and into the bar as you lifted your appletini and pressed the glass against your red lips.
A delicious rush shot through you as you sipped on your drink. Your friends had dragged you here to gamble but you weren't interested, in fact, you found it boring. So, you ended up at the cocktail bar sipping delicious drinks and eating sushi.
"You're not gambling."
You turned your head and felt your heart skip as you gazed at the alluring man before you. His steel blue eyes were hypnotic as they locked with yours. Soft raven hair was pushed back but a few strands escaped the hold of the product. Most would say this man had a cold and harsh look about him however, he seemed rather handsome and charming to you.
A kind smile graced your lips. A man like Levi could never be interested in a woman like you, or so you thought. Amusing the man with conversation shouldn't be that bad, so you indulged him.
You hummed. "I don't care much for gambling. I find it boring."
Levi gazed at your lips as they pressed against your glass. "And yet you're in a casino." He waved the waiter over "Why is that?"
"My friends dragged me here." You pointed to a little group. "That's them."
He didn't look over at them, he couldn't because you were so captivating. "So, you don't enjoy gambling or is it something else?"
You released a long sigh. "I don't find it fun and a lot of them I will admit I don't understand." You fiddled with your glass as you felt your cheeks burn. "I have tried my best."
Levi shifted closer and hummed at your intoxicating scent. "Perhaps you haven't had a good teacher."
"I need a patient one." You giggled making Levi smile. You introduced yourself "who are you?"
He offered his hand. "Levi."
"Charmed."
He took your hand delicately and kissed the back of it. "May I show you a good time?"
You gasped. "I'm sorry?"
He frowned at your reaction. "Gambling. I'll take you around and show you how to play."
You laughed as you felt silly for thinking something rude. "Forgive me, I thought you meant a good time in another way."
Levi stared at you as he processed your words. As soon as the thought clicked, his eyes widened and a soft blush spread on his cheeks. "Oh, well I would rather enjoy that with you multiple times. However, our focus is playing a few games." He offered his hand to you. "Would you like to join me?"
As you stared at Levi's hand you thought of many things that could happen to you, bad things and good things. You thought about how you were dragged here and were bored, but maybe Levi could really show you a great time and change your night.
You happily took his hand and walked with him through the casino. The craps table was your first destination and you knew this was about dice throwing, but that was it. You thought it was all luck and yet Levi made it seem so much fun.
The warm broad chest pressed against your back as an elegant hand lifted the dice up to your lips. Hot breath tickled your ear as Levi spoke. A shiver ran up your spine when he asked you to blow on the dice. You lightly blew and watched the dice fly across the table and roll exactly what Levi wanted over and over.
With arms full of chips you both moved from table to table as you played all the games and won all. Every game you went to Levi stayed close to you and made you laugh. He always had a part of him touching you so you felt close.
Finally, you reached the last table, poker. You didn't expect the dealer to allow Levi to stand behind you, but he did. It was sweet how he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and tapped cards to help you. He turned slightly and whispered in your ear how to play. Arousal burned through you, so you hid your smile with your cards.
You turned your head and smiled at Levi. "What do you think?"
"Well, my darling, I think you've got this in the bag."
You giggled and placed your cards on the table. "These are my cards."
Levi squeezed you. "Royal flush."
"Is that good?"
Levi chuckled. "It's the best poker hand."
You squealed and began jumping up and down on the spot. You turned on your heels and jumped into Levi's arms. "Thank you! That was so much fun!" You tangled your fingers in his hair and kissed him.
Levi gripped you and kissed you back with just as much passion. His heart raced in his chest as he felt elated. You were the woman for him.
You pulled back and hummed. "Forgive me. I uhh..."
"I liked it and wanted it." He rubbed your cheek softly. "Collect your winnings."
You gathered your chips and let Levi lead you to cash it all in. With a bag full of money you were in shock that your night had taken such a turn. At first, it was boring and now it was the best night of your life. It did sting your heart to know it was all over and you had to return home.
You lowered your gaze and shifted on your tired feet. "I should go. I'll get a taxi home."
Levi cupped the side of your face. "Stay. I'll get you a room." His hand rested on your shoulder. "Wait here and I will get a keycard."
"I couldn't possibly...you've done enough."
"I insist. Besides, I don't want to let you go just yet."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Okay."
Levi rushed to reception and talked to his staff before returning to you. He placed a hand on your lower back and guided you to the lift and pushed in his card to access the top floors meant for special guests only. He helped you into the bedroom and pulled his phone out and began talking.
As you inspected the grand room you realised this was a room meant for the richest of people. You had everything you could ever dream of and more. The living room was massive with a TV. A pool was outside on the balcony that was clearly heated. The bed was huge and incredibly soft, it'd be the best bed you'd ever slept in.
You didn't intend to listen in to Levi's conversation, but something in the way he talked to staff over the phone made something click. As the staff hurried inside and handed him what he ordered you went from thinking he was the manager to possibly being the mysterious head of the Acker group.
"Levi Acker?" You saw Levi pause and look over at you as he arranged your gifts. You gulped a little and shifted closer. "That's you, right?"
He sighed. "Yes. I'm Levi Ackerman. I removed the man part of the company because Acker was better." He moved closer to you with soft pyjamas in hand. "I hope that is not an issue. I rather like you and I don't want to let you go."
You smiled at Levi before taking the pyjamas from him. "Not at all. I just feel a little stupid that I said bad things about this place to the very man who put it together."
"If you want to know about my dealings and money, just ask." He caressed your cheek. "I feel as if I could tell you anything."
"Do you really make hospitals for the poor to get free medical care? Do you also make homes as well?"
He nodded as his thumb slowly ran over your bottom lip. "Yes. I grew up poor and I had a sick mother, but she is alive and well now. It was hard to get medical care for her. I wanted to help people like her." He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I really want to kiss you right now and I know you want to know things."
You released a little moan. "Please do."
Levi's lips pressed against yours as a relaxed sigh came from his nose. He gently nipped your lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth. He felt joy in his heart when you clung to him and kissed him back with deep passion.
You pulled back from his lips and panted a little. "Sleepy."
Levi chuckled at your drowsy look. "You should change and get into bed."
You whined at him. "You'll disappear when I do."
"I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
You stumbled around and got changed. Levi kept his eyes closed as he helped you because you were so sleepy. He opened his eyes once you were changed. He easily lifted you, tucked you under the covers and went about his evening. He used his phone to work and order his people before climbing into bed next to you and resting for the first time in a long time.
You awoke and felt more rested than you'd ever been before. A part of you thought last night was a dream and you would likely never see Levi again. However, a strong warm arm was thrown over you. Your body dragged across the bed until you were firmly pressed against a sexy body.
You turned your head and blushed when you saw Levi gazing at you. "M-Morning."
Levi smiled softly. "Morning. Told you I wouldn't leave you."
You lightly traced his nose and lips. "You were right."
"I keep my promises." He pressed his lips against yours. "So, how about a date? I want to take you somewhere nice today."
You giggled as you felt excited. "I would love that."
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hand-written-dreams · 29 days ago
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CRIMSON SHADE
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Chapter 31
A little girl's dream
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A scar I can't reverse
When the more it heals,
the worse it hurts.
- ( the song of the chapter is 'Dynastry' by Mila.)
Trigger warning: 18+ SA
She has always been a straight-A student, never once called to the principal's office. But as she stands in her father's study, his dark eyes measuring her, scrutinizing every inch, she would have gladly traded this moment for a hundred visits to the principal's office.
Yet, a small, almost forgotten part of her-the little girl who once craved his attention-feels greedy for it now. She doesn't even remember the last time he actually looked at her.
But the sensible part of her knows-her father's attention always comes with a price.
For a moment, no one moves. No sound, no shift-just her, her father, and....
Mr.Jha. Nothing but the low hum of the air conditioning fills the silence in the room.
All of them are locked in a tense stillness. Her father's conversation with Mr.Jha cuts off the moment she steps inside. Their faces reveal nothing, yet the weight of their attention presses down on her.
"Sit," her father says, his voice carrying none of its usual authority, replaced by a cold, measured edge. An icy chill runs down her spine.
She's here for an interrogation.
Straightening her back, she perches herself on the chair farthest from either of them, putting the space between them like a shield she knows won't hold.
"What did you do, Khushi?" His question slices through the silence. Straight at the point.
"I don't understand," she acts confused. Though all of it isn't a complete act, she doesn't really know what he's talking about.
"It would be much easier for both of us if you admit it now. My life is hard as it is. You wouldn't want to make it harder."
Her mind races. She has done so many things, things her father would never approve of, but which one does he know about?
"What are you talking about?" she says carefully, swallowing down the sharp retort that bubbles in her throat.
His gaze sharpens, and the corner of his mouth twists in a humourless smirk. He rises up from his chair and looms over her with his hands braced against the table.
"I was very pleased with you, with your behaviour, your cooperation," he says, his tone bitter. "I even thought of gifting you the hard copy of the video I kept as leverage. But now...lo and behold..it's gone. The video is gone. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Her blood runs cold, but she maintains her well-practised mask.
"Baba, how would I know? Nobody knows where you kept it, but you," she says calmly, her voice betraying the tension coiling in her chest.
He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Don't play innocent. For the last two years, you've been after it, haven't you? Trying to erase it...from my phone and laptop. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "Don't think I'm a fool. I have made my security expert look into my phone. They said it was hacked. I don't need to be an expert to know it was you. "
"But I gotta say you are really good... they couldn't trace you down. That's why I know you have something to do with the device that had the video in it. It's a clean work. No trace, no evidence...just puffff... vanish in thin air."
Her father starts pacing, frustrated, and agitated. Then, with a swift motion, he turns toward her, both hands gripping the arms of her chair, caging her. She plasters her back against the chair, summoning every ounce of strength to look as unafraid as possible. Because inside she is scared shitless.
"And why have you withdrawn all your money, huh? Are you planning to go somewhere?" He adds without taking his eyes off her. "Or are you planning to pay someone?"
Her eyes narrow.
If you think you can intimidate me Sashidhar Sen Gupta, then you are wrong, she mutters in her head.
"No," Her voice is hard as steel. "I just wanted to buy something nice for myself."
He scoffs. "You've been collecting money for years and now you think of buying something nice for yourself? Tell me the truth, Khushi. How did you get the video deleted?"
"Can't a girl who is being married in a few days can't buy anything nice for herself?" She asks, trying to sound nonchalant. "Why can't it be as simple as that?"
"Don't test my patience." His eyes twitch. "Tell me the truth."
"I'll tell you the truth if you're ready to believe it," she snaps, bitterness spilling over her tone. She won't go down without a fight. "You're hellbent on blaming me no matter what I say."
"Tell. Me. The. Truth. Who helped you?"
Anger surges in her, hot and unyielding. He wants the truth, she'll give him the truth.
Honest, undeniable truth.
"I made a deal with the devil," she spits, her voice laced with years of frustration, neglect, and pain. "And in exchange, I slept with him."
"Khushi!" Her father's hand rises, but it stops midair. She stares at it, her eyes brimming with hurt and betrayal, even as she forces back the tears that threaten to spill.
"Tell me the truth," he demands again, his voice trembling with fury.
"I already told you," she says coldly.
"You are talking nonsense. This is absurd," he mutters, disbelief in his voice. "What is this? Your way of rebellion?"
"Why is it so absurd?" she challenges. "Is it the idea of me sleeping with someone else, or is it that you're so completely in the dark?"
He smirks, leaning in closer, his words dripping with disdain. "Silly girl. You're not that kind of person, Khushi. I raised you better than this. I taught you to be a rule-abiding good girl. Those kinds of girls don't talk about sleeping with other people-especially not in front of their fathers."
He leans in, pressing her further into the chair, his words thick with authority. "You wouldn't dare to sleep with anyone. That's why you're spinning these stories-to provoke me. That's why this is absurd. I thought you were smarter than this."
"When have you ever raised me?" Her voice rises, sharp and cutting. "Have you even looked at me in the past 22 years? You don't know what kind of girl I am. I've slept with multiple people behind your back, and you didn't even know."
"Don't make me angrier than I already am."
"Then stop forcing me to admit to something I didn't do. I told you before, and I'm telling you now, I don't know where the video went. Don't pin your failure on me."
His face darkens as he straightens. "I've given you too much freedom. Now it's time to put a stop to it." His voice is cold and final.
"I'm under your watch 24/7, your minion watching me like a hawk." she retorts. "Where's this so-called freedom you've given me?"
"Enough!" he thunders. "Your marriage to Mr. Jha will happen in three days. Prepare yourself. I can't let you walk this earth as a single woman with that kind of defiance."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, "And there will be a doctor this afternoon to check you."
Her body goes rigid. "What did you say?" she hisses, her voice low and venomous. Anger boils over, full and unrelenting. "I dare you. Bring anyone to check me, and I'll put a bullet in that doctor's head, or anyone else who dares come near me....oh, actually that's a very good idea. Then you'll have another video of me to replace the lost one."
Her father's jaw tightens, the vein in his forehead pulsing as his cold gaze pins her in place.
"Your wings have spread too far. It's time to clip them," he says, his voice eerily calm now. "I've protected you until now, tried to do it honourably. But no more. You've forced my hand"
"You are as intolerable as the people you are associated with. I'll take my revenge on all of them, including you," he continues.
Her brow furrows, he sounds unhinged.
What the fuck is he talking about?
"I want you bound to the serpent until your last breath. You'll never be free," he murmurs, almost to himself. "I'll leave no stone unturned to make it happen."
Now her father is talking nonsense.
Her father's cold gaze flickers to Mr.Jha, "The wedding is in three days. You have my blessings. I don't want to give them any reason to not give consent to this marriage. They have to agree if she's already taken."
Her mind blanks for a moment, before the words sink in. But her disbelief cloaks the words as she refuses to put any weight on them.
Her father turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. His footsteps echo in her ears.
And now she's alone with Mr.Jha.
His eyes bore into her, gleaming with something dark and unsettling.
"You heard him," his voice is almost mocking. "I've waited for this moment for so long."
Her chest tightens, her nails digging into her palms as his smirk deepens.
"Khushi," he raises from his chair, taking a slow step towards her. "You don't have to be so distant, you know. We're going to be married soon."
She can feel her face morphing into a scowl as she rises from the chair as well. "I'm tired, Mr.Jha. It's been a long day. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Shyam," he corrects, stepping closer. His movements are slow and deliberate.
Her stomach twists, the unease clawing at her insides. She turns to leave, but his hand shoots out, catching her wrist. The grip is firm, too firm. Instinctively, she twists her wrist to break free, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Don't go," he says, his voice deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing against her pulse. "Why can't we talk now."
Her voice comes out strained, as she eyes the door. "I don't think now is the right time."
"There's no better time than now," he murmurs, his other hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face.
She flinches at the touch. Her skin crawls, every fibre of her being screaming to recoil, but she forces herself still, her mind racing for an exit.
"Goodnight, Mr. Jha," her voice is firmer this time. She yanks her wrist free, stepping back, but he closes the distance again. Panic claws at her throat.
"You don't have to be afraid of me, Khushi," he says, amused. "I'll never hurt you."
His hand slides along her waist, trailing lower.
She freezes.
For a fraction of a second.
Then rage surges through her veins, shattering her control. Her palm cracks across his face, the slap echoing in the room. Her own hand stings from the impact.
"Don't touch me!" she hisses, her voice trembling with fury.
His face twists into a mask of rage and his hand shoots out...this time to her throat.
"You bitch,'' he spits, fingers tightening, cutting off her breath.
Her heart pounds against her ribcage, each frantic beat drowning her in terror, as bile rises into her throat, choking her from the inside.
So many times, Arnav has held her by the neck, but.... never like this. Never with cold, suffocating dread crawling under her skin. Never with such a desperate, primal fear seeping into her bones.
Mr.Jha leans in, his sour breath hot against her face. She braces herself as his hand slides lower along her body, circling around her waist, trying to restrain her completely. Her muscles coil like a spring.
When he tries to kiss her, she twists her head away. With a swift, calculated move, she jabs her elbow into his ribs and pivots to escape his grasp, smashing the nearby lamp into his face.
But he anticipates her strike. He deflects her arm but can not deflect the lamp. It crashes against his temple.
Stunned, he retaliates instantly.
With a hard slap.
The force sends her reeling, her head whips to the side. The sting spreads across her cheek, but her mind races ahead, refusing to let her falter.
He lunges, grabbing at the fabric of her shirt in a violent attempt to tear it. Her eyes burn with fury as she counters with a sharp knee to his gut. The force knocks the wind out of him, and he crumples to the floor with a strangled groan.
Gasping for breath, she turns to flee, but he's not done. His hand latches onto her ankle, yanking her down.
She crashes onto the cold floor, pain shooting up her arm, but she doesn't stop.
He scrambles on top of her, his weight pressing down, trying to pin her.
Desperation fuels her next move, she raises her knee, aiming directly for his crotch.
And hits hard.
The guttural scream that tears from his throat is the most satisfying sound she's ever heard. He rolls off her, clutching himself in agony.
She stands up with wobbling legs, chest heaving and bolts for the door. Her teeth dig into her lips as she locks the pain away for later. Her hands fumble with the handle. Surprisingly the door isn't locked from the inside.
With a twist, it clicks open.
She doesn't look back. Not even when Mr.Jha's curses follow her, venomous and empty in the wake of her escape.
She doesn't stop, she runs straight to her room and slams the door, pressing her back against the wood.
I can't be here anymore. Baba....Baba lets Mr.Jha to... me to.....
A sob racks through her as she grabs her phone and car keys. Bruised and battered, she walks out of the house on bare feet. Her body begs for relief, her skin screaming for air, while her mind begs for freedom.
She doesn't give in. She lets her skin turn blue, lets her feet bleed as the gravel bites into the soles of her feet, sharp and unrelenting, but she keeps moving. She bolts straight to the garage.
Her hands tremble as she starts the car, pushing the accelerator down hard. Her jaw clenches, trapping every sound, every cry threatening to break free. But the tears don't ask for permission. They flood her vision, spill over, burning the cuts on her cheeks.
She runs her car at full speed, nearly tearing through the main gate.
And then without another word, without another glance and without another care, she picks up all of her dignity and shattered pieces of her heart and speeds into the night.
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The moonlight stretches before her, trees blurring on either side as she drives, drives and drives.
She has nowhere to go.
She has no one to run to.
No one who would understand.
Each suppressed sob cracks something deeper inside her. Her body arches. So does her head and her heart. Everything hurts.
Every single muscle starts to ache.
Every single bone starts to pain.
Every single joint starts to hurt.
But she doesn't know which one hurts more.
Her body or her heart.
She can't even be angry at Mr.Jha when...her own father. The words won't even form properly in her mind.
Her phone won't stop ringing.
She doesn't fear of it being tracked, because it can't be. She's built too many firewalls, too many layers of security. But none of it stops the sound from piercing through the silence, relentless and grating.
The car cuts through the darkened streets of Delhi, headlights slicing through the suffocating night. Her grip on the wheel is so tight her knuckles have turned white. The inside feels too small, too stifling, so she rolls down the window. The rush of wind is like a scream against her skin. Raw, unrelenting.
She doesn't know where she's going.
She has nowhere to go.
She has no one to run to.
No one who would understand.
No friends. No one who cares.
No place to hide when the world turns against her.
A hotel is an option, but with torn clothes and bruised skin, the police might get involved and that can't happen. She can't risk it. She can't go anywhere in public. Not even a hospital.
Her father will know in an instant.
It takes her a few minutes to realize where she's heading.
His house.
Her subconscious has steered her car toward it, toward him. Why? It's the last place she should go.
Especially like this.
Battered, bruised and broken.
She's a few meters away now, her grip tightening around the wheel. Every instinct screams at her to turn around, to disappear into the night. But she keeps driving.
Why can't she stop?
The roses in his garden flash in her mind, their delicate petals unfurling like the whispered memories of that night. The tale of the Erythraean rose he shared with her lingers, playing on a loop in her thoughts.
"...even the purest soul, when forged in a storm, can become indestructible..."
Would he tell her the story again, if she asked? Should she even ask for it?
The house comes into view. She slams the brakes hard, the tyres screeching as she swerves the car, steering it sharply in the opposite direction.
"You can't think about him," she whispers to herself, her voice shaking. "You don't have the luxury of that."
But it's too late. His face is already there, uninvited, in the forefront of her mind.
She has fought so hard to deny the pull that tethered her to him like gravity. But in moments like this, when the world felt like it was collapsing around her, reaching for the one person who has always been her undoing.
But isn't he part of the same darkness that suffocated her?
Tears blur her vision, and she blinks them away furiously. Don't cry. Crying won't help. But the lump in her throat refuses to dissolve, and the more she tries to swallow it, the harder it becomes to breathe.
The city begins to blur around her, the neon lights bleeding together like the chaos in her mind. She pulls over abruptly, the tyres screeching as the car comes to a halt on an empty stretch of road. Her hands tremble as she kills the engine, the sudden silence pressing down on her like a weight.
For a moment, she just sits there, staring at the steering wheel.
Rage. Despair. Heartbreak, sharp and all-consuming, threatening to swallow her whole. The more she brushes the tears away, the more follow.
She buries her face in her hands, the tears spilling over. But she holds on to it. Not letting go.
She grits her teeth, cursing part of her that still, against all reason, wants to run to the one person who has the ability to break her completely. That part of her wants to run to him and let him fix her, to replace the arms that she has to wrap around herself with his.
She takes a deep breath, a futile effort to subside the tears. But the efforts only leave her hollow and exhausted. She leans back against the seat, staring up at the roof of the car. The silence feels heavier now, but she welcomes it.
Staring at the bruises blooming across her skin like remnants of a war she never agreed to fight, she finally understands what the worst kind of betrayal looks like.
An yearning slides through her skin.
She eyes the phone sitting on the passenger seat, dark and lifeless. She picks it up, her thumb hovering over the screen.
She has no one who she can call.
She has nowhere to go.
She has no one to run to.
No one who would understand.
Her fingers move on their own, trembling as they dial a number she doesn't consciously remember. The phone rings once....
He doesn't speak right away. He just listens. She can hear his breathing, heavy and steady, filling the silence.
"Khushi?"
His voice cuts through the chaos in her mind like a blade..deep, commanding, and unmistakable.
Her breath hitches, but she doesn't respond. Her fingers grip the phone so tightly that the edges bites into her skin. Tears streak down her face, hot and unrelenting. She brushes them away with the back of her hand, but they keep falling, traitorous and uncontrollable. A small, broken sound escapes her throat, one she didn't mean to let out.
She hears movement, the faint rustle of fabric, the rapid clack of keys. He's already in motion.
"Talk to me," comes his voice, sharp and breathy, like he's running. The rawness in his tone finally cracks the dam she's been desperately holding up.
"I don't know where I am," she whispers, her voice cracked and uneven, betraying her.
She can hear the screech of tires, the blare of horns, the pulse of traffic, and his heavy breathing, each sound blending together, blurring the edges of her mind. But amidst it all, his presence is the only thing anchoring her, the only thing tethering her to reality.
In that moment, it hits her.
How foolish she has been—a wanderer chasing the horizon, drifting like a leaf caught in the wind, fleeing from the very shadow where her refuge lies. And that shadow, that solace, that unshaken constant is..
Him.
"AA..rnav?"
Her voice breaks as his name slips from her lips, fragile and hesitant.
What is she doing?
Can she demand things like this?
Does she have a right?
"I am here."
But his response comes fast.
Her heart skips a beat, and she presses her forehead against the steering wheel. Her body feels like it's crumbling under its own weight, pain radiating in sharp pulses. She can't even lift a finger.
But a craving blossoms in her chest.
"Come quickly," she chokes out eventually, the admission feels like a fracture splitting her apart.
She hates how small her voice sounds. The words taste like shame on her tongue. She loathes the neediness in her voice, the way it clings to the silence between them.
"I'm on my way." His tone shifts immediately, sharper, like steel unsheathed. "Stay with me."
Her eyes shift to the phone in her hand, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
She’s made her phone untraceable, layered it with firewalls so thick even the best would struggle. But he’s not just anyone. She knows with a certainty that unnerves her...that he can break through.
Just as easily as he’s breaking the ice around her heart.
Just as easily as he’s slipping through the cracks of her armor—layer by layer.
A part of her to hang up, to throw the phone out the window and sever this fragile connection. A part of her wants to run and vanish before he finds her. But another part, a part she despises with every fibre of her being, wants him to come. And in the fight between the two, the latter is winning.
"I'm inside my car," she murmurs, almost to herself, as though saying it aloud might ground her.
"Good. Lock the doors. Don't come out until I get there."
There he is.
The bossy devil.
She closes her eyes, her tears dampening the leather of the steering wheel as the pain intensifies. The ache in her body is unbearable, but it's nothing compared to the hollow, gnawing ache in her chest.
She has been running away from him all this time, but now that he is coming, rushing towards her, the moments seem to stretch endlessly.
She starts counting his breaths.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then, a screech of tires nearby.
Her door rips open.
The force rattles the whole car.
But she cares less about that as his wild eyes meet hers. And in that moment, she just lets go.
Because...
She has no one to run to.
No one who would understand.
Except him
Her arms move on their own, wrapping around his neck as she releases everything. Every ounce of pain, fear, and heartbreak, into the crook of his neck.
For the first time in years, she lets herself cry, truly cry, in a way she never has before. Ugly, wracking sobs shake her entire body.
She cries for her mother, who has been trapped just like her.
She cries for herself, for the girl who dreamed of freedom but was born into chains.
She cries for the girl she used to be, the girl who shattered after today. She cries for the lost hopes she has been clinging to, for the lost dreams of maybes that have turned to dust.
And he just holds her.
His hand slips beneath her knees and he lifts her from the car seat as if she weighs nothing at all. Cradling her against him, he carries her to his car without a word and settles into the backseat with her in his arms.
He doesn't ask any questions. And for that, she's relieved. She simply doesn't have the words.
With his hands running along her back, steady, grounding and his lips pressing into the crown of her head, he drapes his jacket over her trembling body, enveloping her in a cocoon of his scent.
And he just holds her.
Beneath her feet, the little girl who once clung to the hope of being loved by her father crumbles. The silly little girl screams, kicks, thrashes-refusing to fade without a fight. But she presses down on the echoes of that child's defiance, seals her remnants in a bottle, and swallows the last of her innocence.
And then, finally, she lets the little girl go, setting the bottle afloat in the sea of her unspoken resolve.
She doesn't watch it drift away, some things are not meant to be mourned.
Still a sob rips from her throat, then another. And another. Until they crash into each other, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the silence of the car, mingling with the familiar timbre of his voice as he keeps shushing her-soft, steady, relentless.
She curls in on herself, fists gripping the fabric of his shirt as if holding on to something, anything, to keep from unraveling completely. But the dam has already broken, and with every hush he breathes against her hair, the flood only rages stronger.
And he just holds her, tight enough as if to press all her broken pieces back together.
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Author's note:
I won't say this time that I'll see you soon. Because I won't. 😭
<previous> | <next>
@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @9artsdragon @bigfatreader
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reinathevocaloid · 1 year ago
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A Sladick Playlist
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(Bc these two have been living in my head rent-free these days lol)
Animals by Maroon 5 (Cover by Living in Fiction)
Baby, I'm preying on you tonight Hunt you down, eat you alive Just like animals
I Don't Know Why by Imagine Dragons
Dangerous Your love is always dangerous And now I'm lost in us We're livin' in a lying trust
damn. by Rei Ami
So tell me why you're back again Say what you mean, mean what you say 'Cause what you give is what you get And I don't forget
Killing Time by Infected Mushroom
In my dreams (I can kill you) Close to me You open the cage and he sets you free
Amsterdam by Daughter
Heavy eyed crawling on the roadside Swinging from the street lights I hope by the morning I will have grown back
heart of steel by sanjay.
What would I do with a heart of steel Protect what I love when I don't even feel Taken the chance to fix what I need Nothings right I need a chance to breathe
Maybe by Flower Face
You're the one who's in my body, ripping at the seams And you're the one who's crashing on the highways in my dreams Maybe I won't, maybe I will I haven't slept so easy since you left me in the wild I wish I could've loved you right, but I was just a child Maybe I won't, maybe I will run back to you
Psychobabble by Frou Frou
Do just what I tell you And no one will get hurt Don't come in any closer 'Cause I don't know how long I can hold my heart in two Make no sudden movements And no one need get hurt You're making me nervous If you know what's good for me why would I be loving you?
Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys
When the zeros line up on the 24 hour clock When you know who's callin' even though the number is blocked When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste And your knee socks
Turn Off The Lights by Panic! At The Disco
I got so sick of being on my own Now the devil won't leave me alone It's almost like I've found a friend Who's in it for the bitter end
Just Pretend by Bad Omens
I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain't getting over you
Invisible by Plumb
I cannot see you But I can feel you I just wanna be with you I've nowhere else to go I've nowhere else to go
Red by BEAUZ
I know all your little secrets Did you think that I'd forget? The first cut always goes the deepest You ain't seen nothing yet
Waiting Game by BANKS
Baby I'm thinking it over What if the way we started made it something cursed from the start? What if it only gets colder Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart 'Cause lately I've been scared of even thinking 'bout where we are
The Walk by Imogen Heap
No, it's not meant to be like this Not what I planned at all I don't want to feel like this So that makes it all your fault
The Heart Wants What It Wants by Selena Gomez
The bed's getting cold and you're not here The future that we hold is so unclear But I'm not alive until you call And I'll bet the odds against it all
Hold Me Like A Grudge by Fall Out Boy
Hold me, hold me like a grudge The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, whoa Faster and faster, can't do it on my own Part-time soulmate, full-time problem, yeah So hold me like a grudge
Strange Birds by Birdy
You've always loved the strange birds Now I want to fly into your world I want to be heard My wounded wing's still beating, You've always loved the stranger inside Me, ugly pretty
Coming Down by Halsey
Now we're lost somewhere in outer space In a hotel room where demons play They run around beneath our feet We roll around beneath these sheets
Death Valley by Fall Out Boy
But we are alive Here in death valley But don't take love off the table yet 'Cause tonight It's just fire alarms and losing you We love a lot So, we only lose a little But we are alive
The Definition of Not Leaving by Hands Like Houses
I want you to follow and find me Howl like its us and no-one else We could keep out the sadness and stand so tall We could run like wild things, and lie right where we fall
Undisclosed Desires by Muse
I want to reconcile the violence in your heart I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask I want to exorcise the demons from your past I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart
Disciple by IAMX
Disciple, I absolve you So forgive yourself enough to obey the naked truth That you need to be owned And you beg to be controlled
On The Run by Kayou.
I guess you're back Are you gonna tell me where you went? All the messages I sent, with no reply It's like that You're just gonna walk into my room I hate how you assume That there will always be a place for you By my side Day or night You know that it's killing me
Raw Raw by K.Flay
I came up from the depths of hell with a golf club in my hand You disarmed me, no defense My armor turned to sand It's hard to escape the wounds of the past Every time I feel something real, I wanna take it back
Red Lights by Stray Kids
I'm going crazy now, out of control, I I'm staying up all night again The moment when I close my eyes All I see is red lights
All About Us by t.A.T.u.
They say They don't trust You, me, we, us So we'll fall if we must 'Cause it's you, me And it's all about, it's all about It's all about us
Heaven, Iowa by Fall Out Boy
Scar-crossed lovers forever I'm checking myself out forever I'm saving this all for later Scar-crossed lovers forever Here we are, untouched forever I'm saving this all for later, oh
Spiracle by Flower Face
And I want your parties, the shark in your water The scrapes on your knees and the blood that spills over And I want your zeroes, your polluted marrow The sweat on your palms and your surveillance shadow
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ernmark · 10 months ago
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Ask Game!
Thank you to @sapphosewrites for thinking of me for this <3
How many works do you have on AO3?
I'm almost up there with Sapphose-- I've got 141, though I really need to finish tranferring my really old fics from my fanfiction.net account.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
Those 141 fics give me a grand total of 969,127 words.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
My biggest fandoms are The Penumbra Podcast, Star Trek: Deep Space 9, Welcome To Night Vale (that's an oldie, hot damn) and Les Miserables, with Les Mis being the most recent one I've been active in.
4. Top 5 Fics By Kudos
I'm honestly surprised that Haunting, but not haunted (Penumbra Podcast ghost AU) has overtaken The Issue of Omniscience (WTNV). Just Like an Angel (WTNV Wingfic) ranks just behind those two, then The Case Files of J. Steel (a very very large Penumbra Poscast one-shot collection). What surprised me was I Could Be Your Own Avenging Angel (DS9 alternate take on Empok Nor) making the top five-- apparently that one's gotten some recs lately, which pleases me immensely. The fact that all of these are fairly sexy is not a surprise to me.
5. Do you respond to comments?
I read them all, I squee in delight at them all, but a lot of times I'm just flummoxed about what to say in response. I know theoretically just a quick 'thank you' is appropriate, but it feels... I dunno, trite?
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Listen, I'm an absolute sucker for angst, but I tend to go with bittersweet rather than outright angst in the ending.
Just a Little Wooden Boy (OFMD) is the most recent, and plays hard with the idea of deep hurt turning love into something cold that can't be fixed. (Like a Terrier (Sherlock) has a similar vibe.)
Stay With Me (Wolf 359) just plain tragedy. Eiffel succumbs to the Decima virus, the other humans are forced to flee the station, and so Hera is left to comfort him in his final hours. It's in the same vein as The Way Things End (Supernatural) and Off the Path (Bioshock Infinite) where they're very much about accepting death when it can't be fought anymore-- but in the other two, there's the hope of accompanying your loved one on the other side, where Hera is now just trapped alone with her grief and the body of her friend.
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I genuinely don't know how you would even go about judging that.
Most of my multichapter fics end with the idea that there's still work to be done-- causes to fight for, mental illness to struggle against, relationship issues to work out. The thing is that they now have a framework for dealing with the problem at hand.
So given that-- Of the Rapture That Impels (Les Miserables) deals with sinking into grief and despair and ends with actually being able to see a light at the end, which is pretty much the epitome of a happy ending in my book.
Skin and Scales (Penumbra Podcast) has the most classically happy ending, I think.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Thank all that is holy, I haven't gotten direct hate on fics since high school-- the fandoms I've been in have been lovely, and anyone who has unkind things to say about them has been polite enough to do it where I don't need to see it.
9. Do you write smut?
Yup.
10. Craziest crossover
I almost never do crossovers, actually. But years ago (so long ago that it hasn't actually been migrated to AO3 yet) I wrote a 9/Labyrinth crossover in which 7 was in fact Sarah, transfigured by the Goblin King in order to save her from the machine apocalypse.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I think they might have been yanked over to wattpad or whatever once or twice. It happens, it gets reported, I move on.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I don't believe so-- or if it's happened, it was long enough ago that I've forgotten.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes. And let me tell you, I am very bad at being a co-writer. The more successful stuff looks less like co-writing and more like parallel play in the same sandbox.
14. All time favorite ship?
I'm with Sapphose here in that I don't have one favorite ship, so much as I have a favorite dynamic. I'm a sucker for damaged, self-loathing characters who are so determined to do right by the person they love that they wind up becoming better (stronger, happier) people for it.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Just one?
Probably A Dynasty of Liars (DS9). I love that story so much, but I genuinely have no idea where it would go next or how I would execute it.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I'm told that my angst is pretty damn solid, and that I can get voices pretty well.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Scene transitions, and particularly those detailed descriptions where we describe where we're at. It's one of the things I can get away with more in fanfic than in original writing, because a couple references will convey which setpiece we're in so I don't have to do the work. In anything remotely original, that's a much bigger problem.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I'm in camp 'translate if the POV character knows it', with the addendum that "and they continued to speak in[language]" tends to be much more effective than actually writing long stretches of that other language, particularly if it's one that the writer isn't fluent in. If the reader doesn't know the second language, it conveys about as much as a keysmash. If they do, then you're prone to embarrassing goofs where you translate something badly without knowing.
19. First fandom you wrote in?
Lord of the Rings. A self-insert, Boromir-lives AU.
20. Favorite fic you've written?
Pretty much any longfic that I've actually completed, I think. But lately, I'm partial to A Change of a Bizarre Kind (Les Miserables), because I did some stuff with the POV and structure that I'm really proud of.
Now that you've gotten to see me ramble, I'll go ahead and tag @ryosei-hime, @aftershocked, and @alecjmarsh
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veebs-hates-video-games · 2 months ago
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Ok since it's taking a while to finish my enormous post of every game I played in 2024 (mostly because the construction outside is still neverending and is ruining my sleep and ability for form coherent thoughts) I guess I can make a quick list of stuff I didn't finish yet for one reason or another but am still at least in theory working on.
Yakuza: Like a Dragon: Almost everything about it is great except for chapter 12, which is bullshit. In a less great game that would've been enough to get me to give up, but the characters are too much fun not to keep hanging around with them and seeing what they get up to in the last act of the story.
Hi-Fi Rush: The presentation is incredible, with so many little details animated in time with the music. A lot of people had a lot of fun making it. I don't 100% click with the gameplay though, so it's been slow progress.
Froguelike: I couldn't resist just based on the name. Another frog-themed bullet heaven game. It's not done yet, and it feels not done yet, but it definitely has potential, and the way each run ends up being a little narrative story is nice.
Wylde Flowers: If I had finished it in 2024 it would be very near the top of my list. Instead it'll probably be very near the top of my list this year. It fixes just about everything that stresses me out about stuff like Stardew Valley, and the characters are way better written and developed than I expected at first.
The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel: I decided to try jumping forward in the series a bit after the first game felt a bit too dated for what I'm in the mood for now. I'm several hours in and it's going better, but it still hasn't really grabbed me yet.
In Stars and Time: I really was hoping to finish it by the end of the year, but it's one of those things that deserves my brain actually functioning, and that's been really hit or miss lately and hasn't aligned with also being in the mood to play it for a while.
Slay the Princess: I started playing it like a week before they announced the huge update, and then having to wait a week for that kinda killed my momentum. I'll get back to it at some point though.
Live A Live: Having a good time with it, but I've only been doing a single chapter at a time every now and then because they're self-contained little stories that work that way. It holds up better than a lot of stuff from back then does.
Astral Chain: I really meant to finish this a while back but got distracted and forgot about it. It might be heretical to say this, but I like literally everything about it better than the previous Platinum game I played, Near a Tomato (except maybe the music).
Radiant Historia: Yes I first made a post about this one multiple years ago. No I still haven't finished it. Yes I still think it's excellent and will get back to it when I get the 3DS off the shelf and put it somewhere I see it and remember it exists.
And now just 27 more entries to go on the year in review post (out of I think 182 total if I counted right).
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butterflyintochains · 10 months ago
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Long Distance No Longer
Or, the Tangerkarlsson ficlet I've been ruminating over for three days, but haven't felt well enough to write. Anyway, here's what happens when Erik finally arrives in the Steel City. Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kris can barely believe that this has finally happened when he opens the NHL app for the first time since he arrived back in Pittsburgh. Stuff like this doesn't happen to him, right? He's never been so lucky in his life. Surely this is some fake news headline to grab attention, right? But, this is the NHL site, the site dedicated purely to the sport and nothing else. All these painful years apart could be over literally today, permanently if the story is any hint at the contract. No one's in the group chat, why would they be? No one else knows about them yet. Just Flower, but he's not a Penguin anymore, not in the playing sense anyway. Flower, accordingly, does text him right then.
Flower: Go, go get him, mon ami. He'll be there. Go get him.
PPG Paints, his home from home, his kingdom, not too far away. But, it's all too much. Aware of his heart, he does the breathing exercises his doctor taught him after the first stroke, downs the last of his coffee, and grabs his keys. He drives down to the arena, cursing under his breath at some slow drivers he gets stuck behind. Don't they get it? Erik fucking Karlsson is here! Here for him! Finally, he gets shot of the slow people, and turns down the road to the arena. He parks in his normal spot, seeing another car a few spots down, he gets to the door. Security buzz him in, the air feels different once he's inside: lighter, happier, less... lonely. He prays Kyle and the rest have cleared off, he wants Sid and Geno to know before management do. The gym is empty, so is the dressing room, the rink is being set up. God fucking dammit, he knew he was getting his hopes up. Last place, the dining area. Finally, he finds him.
Erik is finally here, they're finally together. ''Well, hello, hjartat mitt.'' He says, and that's all he needs. They finally embrace each other. It's dizzying, all these years apart, finally over. ''I can't believe you're here, amour, after all this time.''
Erik runs his fingers through Kris' long hair, he's always preferred it like this, for more than one reason. ''I'm here, alskad, and not going anywhere.''
Kris kisses his other half softly. ''I'm glad to hear that, tresor.'' They sit down together, hands still locked together over the table, Erik relays the breakdown in his relationship with San Jose. ''That team is just a lost cause, Kris, too far away as well. I should've never signed there.'' Kris says, rubbing circles onto the back of Erik's hand. ''Don't beat yourself up, Erik, we made it work, didn't we?''
Erik changes the subject a bit. ''Do Sid and Geno know about us yet? Have you told them?''
Kris says. ''No, they don't know anything yet. Now you're here, we can tell them in our own time, I guess.'' He takes a deep breath. ''So, you ready to get home?'' He asks Erik, hopefully.
Erik beams, and nods, brown eyes glassy. ''Yeah, I'd like that.'' They head out together, and get back in their cars. Kris leads them home. Once they arrive, Erik gets his bags unpacked. Kris is thanking God that PO is moving in with Drew once everyone is back, that makes everything a bit easier. ''Well, ready to be a Penguin, amour?'' Kris asks.
Erik slumps down next to him on the sofa. ''I've been ready for that since we got back together, hjartat.''
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A couple of mornings later, they wake up slowly, the moving truck with the last of Erik's stuff arrives in three days. Kris rolls over in bed, blinking sleep from his eyes. Erik is still out cold, the travel must have caught up with him. San Jose to Pittsburgh is just over six hours, after all. Kris can barely believe this is real, this is their home now, this is their life now. Things like this don't happen to him, right? Except when they do. Gently, he sweeps a lock of hair back behind Erik's ear, and kisses his cheek. He goes to get ready for the day, and make breakfast. Sid gave him a good banana pancakes recipe ages ago, so he makes that. Movement upstairs piques his ear, Erik comes down wearing his Tre Kronor shorts and shirt. ''Bon matin, amour.'' Kris says.
Erik kisses his cheek. ''God morgon, hjartat.'' He gets some coffee going, Kris finishes making their breakfast, and they eat together. Erik says. ''These pancakes are amazing, Kris, your recipe?'' Kris chuckles, baking isn't his thing. ''No, Sid's.''
Erik looks surprised. ''Sid bakes? Since when?''
Kris laughs, drinking some of his coffee. ''Yeah, he's really good at it, too. His banana bread is really good. Started during lockdown, must've been bored while locked up with Geno in Halifax.'' Erik nods, finishing his breakfast. ''I get that, remember how bored we got in Montreal? You actually got me into F1 somehow.'' Kris laughs, finishing his own meal. ''Well, that was payback for getting me into Arsenal against my will.''
Their day is lazy, relaxing together watching stuff on Netflix and catching up on some F1 and Arsenal highlights over dinner. They may be having a lazy day, but they're still athletes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They go down to the team's gym the next day for a workout session. The team's top defencemen cannot be caught slipping once preseason rolls around. It's nice, Erik muses to himself, finally having someone to do this with. He'd always stick to himself in San Jose, too many people who obviously wanted to get him away from Kris. Some tried, they all failed. Erik times Kris doing some balance exercises, then they switch places. Halfway into the day, they grab some lunch, and lace up for a simple skate. The first blades on the fresh ice. ''Wow.'' Erik says, looking up at the rafters.
Kris takes his hand. ''It's a lot, huh?'' Erik says, opening a bottle of gatorade. ''Yeah, I mean, I've seen these banners so many times. But, now it's hitting me, I'm a Penguin now.''
Kris beams, he's wanted to hear that for years. ''Yeah, we're teammates now. And, y'know, partners on top of it.'' Erik's eyes crinkle as he smiles. ''Yeah, we are.''
After showering and changing, they get going home. Talking about game plans already as they get inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next couple of days are slow, mostly continuing to get settled into living together at last. One morning, Kris wakes up alone in bed, he grumbles to himself, and gets up to go find Erik. He's in the kitchen, working on breakfast. ''Bon matin, mon coeur.'' Erik says, in the french Kris taught him all those years ago. It could still do with a bit of work, but he'll not complain. Kris plants a kiss on Erik's shoulder. ''God morgon, alskad.'' He says. His swedish is an eternal work in progress, but he's had two fantastic teachers. Horny found it weird at first, until Kris told him it was for a good cause. ''I was planning on bringing this upstairs so we could eat in bed.''
Kris yawns, and takes his blood thinners. ''The bed was cold without you.'' Erik notices the pills, he fucking hates that Kris has had to go through what he has, but also fiercely proud of his partner for coming out of it all like he has. That beautiful Masterton sitting on the bookcase being his reward. ''I was so happy for you that night, you know? When you won that.'' Erik says.
Kris smiles, looking lovingly at the trophy. ''It was a pretty good night, wasn't it? For both of us, you winning the Norris and all. You looked fucking incredible in that lilac suit too.''
Erik forks some of his egg. ''Says Mr James Bond.'' Kris smirks, he must admit, they are the best dressed dmen in the league. ''How do we want to tell Sid and Geno about us?'' Kris asks. Erik smirks, always a signal that he's plotting something. ''Maybe we don't? Maybe we just... let them put it together?''
Kris' jaw drops, he puts his mug of coffee down. ''Oh, you are evil!'' Erik jokingly asks. ''Are you in? Be obvious, but not too obvious?'' Kris nods, running a hand through his hair. ''Oh, hell yeah, I'm in!'' They've always been each other's biggest enablers. They finish breakfast, and get ready for a run together. Pushing each other to go further, racing each other around the park. ''Three laps of the pond before we head home, amour?''
Erik nods, loving the light competition between them. ''You're on, hjartat.'' They go their three laps, and run home together. After a shower, they crash on the couch. They could get used to this, this domestic calmness they've both been craving for years.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erik's team casual gear arrives with the moving truck. And, they spend the entire day at home getting Erik properly moved in, making this house a home for both of them. Shifting things around, sifting through things they can get rid of, doing a deep clean of the house in the process. Kris' phone rings on the breakfast bar, he goes to pick it up, it's Sid. ''Bonjour, captain, how's life?''
Sid says. ''Good, excited to finally get going, especially with our new teammate. How are you doing?''
Kris says, beaming over at Erik. ''Great, looking forward to seeing you and Geno again anyway. When do you two get back north from Florida?''
Sid answers, after a moment of silence. ''We fly in tomorrow, how about you come over for dinner? With Erik too, if he's in the city already.'' Kris purses his lips, thinking of how to say this, it would be so easy to just admit everything, but that would ruin the game. ''Yeah, sure, I'll fill him in.''
Sid's voice is bright as he says. ''Cool, see you tomorrow, then!'' Kris nods, throat suddenly very dry. ''See you tomorrow, give Geno a hug for me.'' They hang up. Kris returns to the living room, where Erik is trying to figure out where some of his milestone pucks should go. ''Sid wants us to go over for dinner tomorrow night, he and Geno get back tomorrow morning.''
Erik says, arranging the pucks how he wants them. ''Let the game begin.'' Kris laughs, and presses a kiss to Erik's temple. He gets back to setting the house up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dinner arrives, and they pull up at Sid and Geno's house. They share a devious look, time to begin their little game. Sid welcomes them inside with hugs. They go through to the dining room, and get seated. Erik places an apple pie on the table, Kris hands Geno a bottle of wine. ''So, you enjoying the city so far, Erik?'' Sid asks, ever a diligent captain. Erik nods, forking some of his steak. ''Yeah, I never quite knew how interesting Pittsburgh was until now.''
Kris jokes, nudging his partner's knee with his own. ''Guess you can't get to know a place when you're constantly in and out, eh?'' Erik nods, ever aware that his partner has never known anything else but this city for eighteen years. ''Yeah, now I'm in, I'm seeing things better.''
Geno asks Erik. ''You still wearing 65?''
Erik nods, he'd never willingly give up his number, it means too much to him. ''Yeah, I was so glad it was free.'' Sid adds, sipping his beer. ''Yeah, it's been a while since Hainsey.''
Kris braves some light flirting. ''It'll look so much better on you, Erik, trust me.'' Erik narrows his eyes, Kris is so much better at playing this game already. ''It'll look good with us too. 65, 58, 87, 71.'' Geno observes. ''Yeah, I hadn't noticed that, our numbers all make a chain.'' Sid says.
As dessert is dished out, Erik says. ''I hope you three don't feel as if I'm replacing Flower, y'know? Like, new core, yeah. But, Flower is irreplaceable.''
Kris shrugs, Flower leaving hit all three of them, not least that being the first summer he and Erik spent apart after their breakup. He had no one to help him through that grief. ''Times change, Erik. Flower is part of our family, and always will be. And now, so are you.'' Geno nods, and adds. ''Yeah, Legenda, Jarry still talks to Flower every week. Our family has grown.''
Erik asks, furrowing his brows. ''Legenda, Geno?'' Geno sits down at the table with his coffee. ''It's what I call Kris - Legend. It's on his gear and everything, my idea.'' Erik smirks to himself, storing that for later, for no reason at all. ''Oh, okay.''
After dinner, they get driving home. They'll need to start getting to sleep earlier, training camp is right around the corner. They get ready for bed, Kris says. ''Well, I think that went well, wouldn't you say?'' Erik joins him in bed. ''Yeah, I'd say so.'' Kris lets Erik curl into his side, and asks him. ''You ready to be a Penguin, amour?'' Erik leans up to kiss him. ''I've been ready to be a Penguin for years, hjartat.'' Kris kisses him back. Eventually, they get to sleep.
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Day one of camp dawns at last, Kris is up and ready first, packing his backpack for the long and hard day ahead. Erik comes down with his team jacket on, dress code for today was casual. He drops his backpack on the sofa, and ties his shoes. Kris grabs his keys, and they get out to the car. They arrive at Cranberry, and head inside to gear up together. All of the others head out to take to the rink, Kris nudges his partner. ''Ready?''
Erik nods, and says. ''For everything.'' They fist bump, and head out together. Some of the longer tenured Penguins flock over to talk to Erik, even Sully is drawn into the circle. Kris, for his part, could not be happier. Erik looks over to him from his conversation with Marcus. They share a look and a nod, they'll be okay now, there's no more distance to negotiate. Things like this don't happen to them, right? But, it finally has happened for them. Now, it's time to get serious.
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Well, this took a bit to figure out! I think it turned out okay. I've had this idea in my head for days now, so I'm happy to finally have it manifest like this!
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reginarubie · 1 year ago
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Kissed by Fire ~ Kissed by Steel 1: What inspired you to write the fic this way? 2: Which scene did you put on first? 3: What is your favorite plot? 4: What's your favorite line of dialogue? 5: Which part was hardest to write? 6: What is your fic special or different from all your other fics? 7: Where did the title come from? 8: Did any real person or event inspire any part of this? 9: Was there an alternate version of this fic? 10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story? 11: What do you like most about this fic? 12: What do you like least about this fic? 13: What song did you hear that made you want to write this story? Or if you haven't heard anything yet, what do you think readers should hear to keep us reading? 14: Is there anything you would like readers to learn from reading this fic? 15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
Hi nonny,
These are very throughout, I hope I manage to satisfy you on all of them!
I was inspired by some friends here on tumblr who were all like, “you like Aemond, you like Sansa, why don’t you write a fic about them?” and by that time there were very few fics about them so I thought “why not?”. About writing it that way, the thing about me is that I go “braccio” which is that usually I go with the flow, this way it felt best, it felt the most plausible.
What scene did I put in first… this is kind of hard, because I don’t usually put scenes down. I imagine them though, and the first few I imagined were: how Sansa was pushed back in time, so the prologue; Sansa waking up and Aemond telling her that he would show her his scar because he had seen hers.
I think I have a few favorite plots: AemondSa being the first one for how it’s going to play out, close second Daeron/Symon and last… well I won’t tell because it’d be spoilerish 😉.
My favorite line of dialogue … I think this one is hard, but I think the whole convo between Aemond and Sansa after she managed to be naturalised as a Whent. “I told you I could not tell you everything, told you I was willing to work beside you. I did not work behind your back, I did what I had to do to ensure your family came off clean from this. Lord Strong has no lawful way to pursue me anymore and it’s not any of yours fault!” she said “that was the goal and I reached it. If this is not enough for you to believe me, then what are we talking about?” Aemond let his hands fall at his sides “I don’t know” he said at last “what are we even talking about?” Why do I love this convo so much, you may ask, it’s because it’s a relationship cracking under pressure, like coal becoming diamond under pressure. It was part of their journey, and it was so overwhelmingly real to me that made it one of my favorites convos in the entire series.
I think the hardest are Rhaenyra’ chapters because I feel out of place in her mind, but on the all the most taxing one to write was Rhaenycent cold end.
This story is special to me, if confronted with others, because it’s the first one I have written about a time-travel plot and the first one I have felt the need to expand creating a whole AU universe.
The title actually comes from a poll I opened, the idea was because Sansa is kissed by fire for her hair and Aemond is kissed by steel because of his scar, plus Aemond kisses Sansa and represents fire whilst instead Sansa represents steel. Instead, the subtitles usually come from songs that inspired me during the writing.
Not really. Though some of the relationships dynamics I have seen in my life seep through the writing at times. I think a bit of my own sarcastic sassiness seeps at times in the characters, but that’s mostly it, really.
Is there an alternate version?, not that I know of, not written by me. 🤔 though perhaps there will be in future, whose to say?
This pairing sort of was suggested by @sansaissteel and @maddiethefashionista and I kind of became hooked, it made sense for the time-travel plot and I thought that if Sansa was pushed in that time Aemond would be the one to whom she’d naturally shift her attention and love.
I like the most how many great characters I could explore and how many interesting dynamics. I think I love especially — beyond the AemondSa and the way it weaves with Sansa’ original timeline — the Starks of that time and little Celia and the Royces.
I like the least the character of Lord Strong. But not much anything else.
I actually have a Spotify playlist (which I’ll link down below) though not all songs I listen to are there — I have been a bit remiss on updating it tbh — and tbh, the songs I use in the edits are pretty much the song I listened to on repeat when I wrote that particular chapter.
Oh, I did not start to write this to teach readers anything, but I think I’d like them to put their attention to the way the dynamics shift and the way characters can have or not redeeming arcs or qualities if treated correctly and mostly how to be able to set boundaries and learn to work together as a team which is what Aemond and Sansa are currently doing.
What I learned? I like the way the dynamics between Daeron and his brothers and between the Targtower siblings is flawed but still good, I think I learned much more about my own dynamic with my sibling than I consciously knew by writing these complex siblings dynamics.
I think that’s all! Hope you enjoyed and thank you for showing so much interest in me and the story!
Firesteel instrumental playlist
Firesteel playlist
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