#no side characters for brooke yet. thinking about a brother but i have one of two ways i can go and they are VERY DIFFERENT

[springcatalyst]

BELOVED, DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKED UP SIDE CHARACTERS THAT HAVE INDESCRIBABLE EFFECTS OF THE LIVES OF YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS??????????

oh babey you KNOW i do!!!!!

Sumaya is an old friend of Milo's that he'd known for quite literally forever. They grew up together, and while Sumaya had a twin, Milo did not (most fauns are born in twos), so he was always like an honorary triplet of theirs- both of them, but especially her. Wherever she was, chances were he was close behind. Eventually, though, because everything has to have an 'eventually,' something changes. It shifts the way they understand each other and in the aftereffects, promises are broken. That shift starts to seep out to other places and people and it scares him- with the threat of a consequence he does not deserve (though for a long while he believes them), he leaves.

But their friendship never really faltered, they didn't have a falling out they didn't even have a disagreement- things just... changed. Both were uncertain of what it would mean or what it even should mean. They are both missing something in the absence of the other, and both feel like they did something wrong in the way they left things. Sumaya is nostalgia personified to Milo, but she's also regret. Anybody else would blame her and they wouldn't be wrong, persay, but he can't. Her memory is bittersweet.

Diana is something similar to Julian, but they never really fractured (that, or they were fractured to begin with). They were never as close as Milo and Sumaya, by nature of the kinds of people they are, but they understood each other because they were in much the same circumstance. Their reasons were different but the end result was the same. She actually comes back later (ehehe) so she's more of a main character than others, but she's evidence of something that doesn't quite fit as it 'should' early in his arc. Then later she's a bit of meshing of past and present that he didn't want, but can't turn away. She's dangerous: not to him, but to the image he's built, to the idea of him. She knows too much. Even then, she doesn't know anything because he confides in her, she knows because she was there. For someone who runs on secrets and lies, that knowledge unsteadies him.

Ciara and Naomi are two very different people but they are both Julian's sisters so I'll group them together. They both serve as comparison and motivation (theoretically), and they're both factors in something that sours. Ciara is younger than him by about two years, she's pushy and curious and impatient and driven- she's very sweet but she's also very stubborn (all the Kil family are)- and that causes problems when Julian stands in her way. After a certain point, the choices he makes, or rather, the ones he doesn't, affect more lives than just his own. He lingers and postpones and because of the way things work here, that places Ciara on hold. She gets impatient, then frustrated, then angry as years pass. She pushes him, and it would be misleading to say she makes things happen, but she definitely plays a role.

Naomi is older than him by about a year and because of this doesn't drive him 'forward' (depending on what you think forward should look like) in the same way Ciara does, but she is involved. Naomi is quieter than Ciara, she's respectable and responsible, (and has a little bit of eldest daughter syndrome) and she generally stays in her lane to a T. That means, though, that even if she sees something that may need intervention, she will look the other way, because it's harder to get involved, easier to just let it sort itself out. Which means, naturally, that when this years-long problem arises with Julian and Ciara and a thousand other things, she takes the path of least resistance, which means convincing Julian to just essentially do what Ciara wants. Or trying to, because it doesn't work. She does something that's not quite mediating but isn't quite picking a side, either. I'm getting off topic now but she serves as an example, as an ideal, that he is not and couldn't be and doesn't want to be, but that he should be, nonetheless. She is "wouldn't it be easier?" She's "just do what you're supposed to" personified. But also, notably, she is the one person (other than Diana but, she's different) that he sees again after he leaves. It's completely chance and she doesn't recognize him (years have passed, he looks and acts completely different, she never thought she'd see him again, transgener, etc), but he gets something as close to closure as he's ever going to get by exchanging a few words with her. He does the closest thing to forgiveness that he is capable of, with her.

And Liliana has her (late) captain. Who also happens to be her father. Who also happens to not be named yet, so he's gonna be Captain Hart for now. He is belonging and family in a way that she lacks elsewhere, by nature of being a sailor and by nature of being a satyr. She looks up to him, emulates him when she can. And then he's taken from her, and right along with him, everything she wanted to be. She chases that for FUCKING ever, of course, and that itself is enough to, yaknow, irrevocably alter her, but there's something in that way that she warps in his absence. In her quest for revenge she bends the rules of who he was and who she wants to be in order to reach her goal, which means that if she were to look back, she would be less like him than she wanted. She is more isolated than he was trying to build for her, she is more deadly than he ever was, and she is less free- she doesn't sail to explore, anymore, she sails to Complete. To find and to hunt. She knows this, really. She knows that she is no longer a person he would recognize, but she can't even allow herself to acknowledge that. Everything fades away beneath that fury.

I guess I'll do one more because it's similar to above: Reiji's mother (also unnamed) does things to my brain. Her place in his life is also characterized by what the loss of it means. I've talked about her a little before but she is safety and defense, home and consistency, and then suddenly all of that is nowhere to be found. She is not dead, he doesn't mourn her like Liliana does her father, but he misses her indescribably. The loss of his flock is what really begins that pervading longing, that search for something more that he never finds. He's trying to get back a piece of what he had in them (she's just a good single person to put this on, but it's really the whole group). But also she specifically formed how he walks in the world, just by nature of being the one who primarily raised him. She's so incredibly romantic, she lives in fairy tale- good and bad. She somehow instilled in him both a deep distrust of people, as well as on omnipresent love for them, a need for them. His perspective is very black-and-white. You're good or you're not, you're friend or you're foe, you live or you die, you run or you fall. Nothing is in between, to him. It works in a pinch, but ultimately this way of thinking runs him into more uncertainty when all he is looking for is home.

[in-a-mountain-pool]

The Boy Who Swallowed a Dragon's Fire

Aemond Targaryen x Original Character (Reader)

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: T

warnings: So fluffy it made me feel sick~

word count: 4500+

summary: Interesting things did seem to happen, but always to somebody else. This is, until the night of the hunt to celebrate your younger sister's marriage to her Lannister lion of a husband.

"You live inside my memories, you live forever into the melody of a brook, in the colour of this sky, in the fragrance of flowers."

The Promise of the World

authors note: I have returned from my holibobs! I've been listening to Joe Hisaishi for weeks as I've been lucky enough to get tickets to see him in London! I couldn't stop thinking about Aemond whenever I heard "A Walk in the Skies" from Howl's Moving Castle, and suddenly this little plot bunny formed. As always, likes, comments and reblogs are not a requirement, but lovely to return to. Huge thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs and @bottlesandbarricades for reading over this!

You had always hated the hunt.

Even more so the feasts afterwards and the raucous way the men would stomp around in all their armour and grandeur, proud to be covered in the blood of whatever poor animal they'd had the dumb luck to stumble upon in the woods.

The grounds of the Eyrie were covered in a rainbow patchwork of tents of all shapes and sizes. From the sky blue and silver colours of your own family to the deep black and red hues of the house of the dragon; anyone who was anyone was in attendance for this summer's eve. Smoke and the smells of spoils of barbecued boar and deer filled the air, spilt wine and blood-soaked deep into the ground beneath their feet. 

And all of this, was to celebrate the wedding of your younger sister, the Lady Myranda Arryn, to her golden Lannister Lion of a husband. 

You were the second daughter of the Lord of the Vale, and much to your parent’s despair, the only remaining daughter unmarried; the Lady Robyn Arryn. You had been overlooked almost all of your life, the short one with mousy brown hair and a face you had been told was 'fair but plain' on more than one occasion. When you had been lined up to greet the crowds of prospective Lord's your father had hoped to wed you to, yours was a face they often forgot. 

Whilst your sisters had spent their opening seasons being dragged onto the dance floors of halls all over Westeros, you had often remained on the sidelines, slipping out as early as possible to peruse the vast libraries of the great houses you had been so lucky to visit. You still remembered the day you visited the libraries of the Red Keep after the wedding of King Viserys and Alicent Hightower. Even at the innocent age of five it had left a great impression on your mind and soul.

Ever since, your heart had ached to read every book you could get your hands on, to visit the great citadel at Hightower and to seek out the secrets of the magical world around you. The smell of an old library full of scrolls and parchment was your idea of home, of heaven… yet here you were sitting in a muggy tent at an ungodly hour, pretending to seem impressed when your new golden-haired brother-in-law brandishes the pike he'd used to gut the very boar you were eating. 

You can hardly hide the distaste on your face as he shoves the pike into his squire’s hands and takes a long swig from an obnoxiously large tankard of ale, with a bejewelled lions head on the side, before pulling your sister onto his lap to stick his tongue down her throat. 

With a snivelling sneer he proclaimed out loud, "I do not know what a finer conquest is, the boar I stuck this morn, or the falcon I'm going to stick tonight!"

The room explodes with the sounds of the laughter of drunken men, slamming their glasses on tables and cheering on the young lion who currently had his hand up your younger sister’s skirt.

You could hardly stand it, the disrespect, the brazen attitude of it all. Memories of your sister's childhood rush through your mind, her love of the great romantic knights, tales of gentle touches, roses and chivalry… none of which were present in this tent, at this lavish wedding party. Bile raised in your throat as a deep-seated anger filled your body, and you stand up suddenly to speak, the throw pillows underneath you falling to the ground.

Before you can spit out your vitriol, you feel a large hand on your shoulder. It was your father. He pulls you to the side pressing a goblet of wine into your hands, whispering harshly to you over bards playing the Rains of Castamere. You swore they'd already played it at least five times this eve.

"Robyn. You will do well to remember yourself. The Lannisters are family now. You should be proud of your young sister. Tis’ a good match." 

You barely get to open your mouth in protest when you notice your father’s eyes flash to someone across the room, and before you know it, his hand is pressed to your back, guiding you towards a crooked old man who must have been at least twice your age. 

"Lord Royce! Have you met my fair Daughter, Lady Robyn?" 

Lord Royce looks you up and down with a disgusting glint in his eye, licking his lips to catch the wine he'd almost poured down his chin just a second before. You see he has a few teeth missing, and a slight shaking in the hand clutching at his wine. 

"I do believe we have; I was present at her christening in the Sept of Baelor. My, how she has grown. A Lady now indeed." He drawls, slurring his words.

Your father gives him a tight smile and gestures between you both drunkenly, before shooting you a glare and all but shoving you towards the older man, "Well then, you will have much to talk about and catch up on! Mayhap a dance on this joyous of occasions?"

"Father, I-" There was no time to express your displeasure, for Lord Royce had already dragged you to the centre of the tent, his gnarled hand wrapped around yours in a vice grip and his ringed fingers digging into your skin painfully. He spun you around in time with the other dancers, his hand lingering on your waist for all too longer than necessary at every opportunity. The smell of his breath was pungent and rotten as he leaned forward to whisper into your ear.

"To think I have not laid eyes on you since you were a babe." Lord Royce's hand slips down your waist to your hip and further still to squeeze at the soft swell of your behind with a wicked chuckle. "You are a babe no longer it seems…"

A soft yelp escapes your throat, your eyes wide with shock and fear. No one had even noticed you shriek, the music too loud, the flow of wine too heady, the heat of the night all too great. You wretch your body away from him in distaste.

"My Lord, forgive me but you forget your manners! Touch me again and I will summon my sword." 

A cruel grin spreads across his face, his missing teeth giving a lispy rasp to his voice as he suppresses his own laughter. "It makes no difference to me, I am afraid. Your sword is soon to be my sword, my dear. Tis' already decided. We had best practice our dances, for soon we will be dancing at our very own wedding feast."

 A cold chill runs down your spine as the reality of the situation hits you like a bucket of ice-cold water. Father planned to marry you to Lord Royce. He needed to secure his Bannerman. You were the last unmarried daughter. It was two birds with one stone. 

You stumble backwards, almost tripping on a discarded tankard on the floor of the tent, shaking your head over and over. It couldn't be true. Surely Father wouldn't be so heartless? Your vision tunnels as your feet carry you away hastily out of the tent and into the humid summer air, all to the sound of Lord Royce's cruel laughter.

Your slippered feet ache as you run away, disoriented and panting, tears streaming down your face. Shakily you grab a black discarded cape hung on the back of a chair, shrouding yourself and running as fast as you can through the hunt. 

Colours of the great houses flash you by, the white falcon, the rich gold and reds of the lion, the silver wolf, all passing over you in a blur… and when you finally stop, you've ran so far you had hardly noticed the colours had turned black as night, with the blood red sigil of the three-headed dragon flying lazily upon banners in the dull summer's breeze. 

You were no longer in the Lion's den; you'd wandered somewhere far more frightening… straight into the Dragon's hoard. Only your father, sister and her new husband had been allowed into the royal tents, to present themselves to the good King Viserys. If they caught you here alone and unchaperoned your reputation would be ruined.

With shaking hands, you wrap the dirty cloak around your shoulders tighter to hide the rich azure blue of your dress, as you creep away from the large tents and towards the woods at the outskirts of the camp. It was either you brave the dangers of the wood for the night, or return to the clutches of Lord Royce.

With a heavy heart you plunge deeper into the darkness of the woods. Settling upon a tree stump beside a small creek, your gaze falls upon your once silver slippers, now ruined and caked in mud. There was once a time when you would have cared about such a thing, but now all you could feel was numbness in your soul which made your whole body cold. Your hands were tied and there was nowhere to run. Life was not a beautiful song, or a romantic tale of heroes and great loves. You break into a sob, burying your face into your hands, heaving breaths leaving your chest.

You had done well to get away without an arranged marriage for this long. At the age of twenty-five you had come to be considered an old maid amongst the court. Now, gone was the age of innocence, and the dreams that you might one day experience true love. 

*Crack* 

The silence of the wood and the night air was broken by the snapping of twigs underfoot, as slowly from the distance two figures emerged from the brush. Your body freezes as you see the sigil on their breastplates. A shower of pebbles upon an orange square. It was two knights sworn to the House Royce. They saunter over to you smirking, as you scurry off the stump to lean against a great oak trunk protectively. The larger of the two men places his hand to lean just above your head, peering down at you with a smirk.

 "Looks like a little falcon chick has lost her way."

 You shake your head nervously, paling as you realise that you are so deep into the woods that no one would hear you scream. No matter how hard you try. 

"No- No, I'm not lost. I-"

They share a look between them, reeking of ale and blood.

"I think this little falcon chick looks thirsty. I think we should take her for a cup of ale, don't you? Lord Royce wouldn't mind."

His eyes flicker to yours with a glassy look, he was drunk, they both were. And you'd heard stories of what drunk men like him did to women like you.

"No, no thank you. My sister will be expecting me."

They lean closer still, the smaller one getting so close you can feel the heat of his body towering over you.

"She's pretty cute for a little falcon chick. How old are you, anyway? You live up in the big castle, dontcha?" He tries to grab at your wrist, but you wrestle it away violently.

"Leave me alone!"

The taller man chuckled darkly, shooting a derisive look at the shorter knight, "You see? Your big old beard always scares off the pretty girls."

"So? I'd say she's even cuter when she's scared, don't you think?" 

You decide your only chance is to run. You'd never outrun them, but you had to try. Blood starts pumping through your veins, the adrenaline hitting you as you get ready to sprint, but as soon as you try to retreat away your back hits something hard and warm… and a slender hand places itself gently on your shoulder.

A deep voice speaks down into your ear, tickling warmly at the soft skin of your neck.

"There you are sweetheart, sorry I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you."

The two men stand up straighter ready to fight with their hands upon the hilts of their broadswords.

"Hey- can you not see that we're busy here? Lord Royce wants her back in one piece." 

The cloaked man behind you grips your shoulder tighter still, almost protectively. The only part of him visible to you is the curling of his lips, which seemed to twitch at the knight's words uneasily. The deep voice behind you lets out a dark chuckle before he brandishes a large sword with a black hilt, shining in the moonlight… Valyrian steel.

"Are you really? It looked to me that the two of you were just leaving."

At the sight of Valyrian steel the two men cower and shift themselves quickly, bowing at the mystery man and sprinting off into the dark of the wood. Slowly the tall man takes down his hood, and the first thing that strikes you is the glinting of long silver hair in the moonlight… and a single lilac eye searching yours.

It was him, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Aemond One-Eye. 

He reaches up ever so gently to take down the hood of your dirtied cloak, his finger brushing your cheek tentatively as he does so before he takes your hand in his and bows down to kiss the back of it with the ghost of a touch of his lips.

"Lady Robyn Arryn. My apologies for not finding you sooner. Where to? I will be your escort this evening."

Words fail you as he continues to hold your hand in his like it was made of porcelain. He almost has to bend down to speak to you he was so tall and imposing, yet there's a deep kindness in his eye that has you transfixed. You'd never met him, but you'd heard the stories. He was quiet and cruel. Studious. A loner through and through. And a demon with a sword. 

"Prince Aemond- I-" you try to courtesy, but he continues to hold your hand firmly, shaking his head and chuckling. 

"That won't be necessary. Now tell me, where do you wish to go? You must be desperate to brave the woods all on your own." He almost whispers as he speaks, his words delicate and falling off his tongue like the sweetest honey. 

You decide to tell the truth, you had no choice, he was the prince, and… he was startlingly handsome in a way that made your chest ache and your fingers itch.

"Please, my Prince, if you would escort me home? I- I cannot go back to the camp. I must not. My father- the Lord of the Vale, he wishes to marry me to Lord Royce the Elder and-"

Suddenly he lifts his hand to quiet you and surveys your surroundings, his sharp jawline prominent and strong against the night. He drops your hand in favour of wrapping his arm protectively around your shoulders, cradling you to his side and walking you both swiftly forward, as his silver hair tickles you at the collar of your low-cut dress.

"Don't be alarmed, but we’re being followed by more of his men. Just act normal."

Aemond is so close you can smell him. He was still wearing his riding leathers from the hunt, smelling like sweat, ash and the damp night air in a way that was all too intoxicating. There's something else there too, something smoky that you can't quite put your finger on. Aemond's touch was different from any other man that had placed their hands on you. He felt safe, warm, inviting and oh so protective of you.

You steal a look at his face in the moonlight as you walk and find he's far more beautiful than the stories give him credit for. It was true what they said that Targaryen's were closer to gods than men, for the beautiful creature next to you could hardly even be human. His profile was enough to make you ache with desire in a way no man had ever produced in you. 

*Snap* 

Another twig cracked underfoot. Aemond's face dipped down once again close to yours to whisper into your ear, watching your face carefully. 

"More of Royce's men. It would appear I am to become involved in a scandal." Aemond sighs and growls slightly in annoyance. His hand releases your shoulder and slides down, enveloping your own in a strong grip. "Now, when I say run, run, ok?"

Further twigs start to snap underfoot behind you, the sound of chainmail in the distance now impossible to ignore.

"This way. Run!" He whispers, pulling you along with him.

His long legs pelt into the ground, his cloak billowing behind him, and his silver hair shining like starlight under the full moon. It's a challenge keeping up with him, his legs are so much longer than yours, but he never let's go for even a moment. All of a sudden you're pulled into a large opening in the woods and a strange burning smell fills your nose… as you’re brought face to face with the largest dragon in the world. Vhagar.

“Wha- Prince Aemond!? What are you suggesting? You can’t be serious!” Your feet dig into the ground as you pull against him, but this only makes him grin wider and chuckle darkly. The rational part of your brain tells you he’s insane, that the stories were indeed true and that you should scream… but then a flicker of wonder appeared in your mind, the very same flicker you felt when you stood in the library in the Red Keep all those years ago.

There in front of you in the flesh was a real dragon, over 150 years old. And beside her, a silver-haired, Targaryen prince. This is it; you think to yourself. All those books you had read, all those stories of old, stories of good triumphing over evil… here was your chance to live it.

“Oh, I’m deadly serious. You do want to go home, do you not? The Eyrie is situated on the top of a mountain, as I recall. Vhagar and I can have you home and in bed safe and sound in mere moments...” He teases excitedly, before his voice and face drops to a more serious and soft tone, his long index finger coming up to raise your chin to look him directly into his eye.

“… Can you trust me?”

The sounds of shouting and swords leaving their hilts echo behind you. Your eyes shift from his striking face down to his hand as he reaches it out to you invitingly. Inhaling a deep breath and closing your eyes for a moment, you utter out an answer grasping his hand in yours.

“Yes. I trust you.”

A small smile you almost miss etches itself onto his face before he leads you swiftly over to the old dragon, pulling on a large black leather coat and passing you his dark hooded cloak.

“You will need the extra layer, my Lady. Now... May I lift you? You will need to climb up to the saddle, and I fear we do not have much time.”

A deep pink blush covers your cheeks at the thought of his strong arms carrying you. There is barely any time to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before Aemond is grasping you at the waist and thrusting you up onto the ropes leading up to Vhagar’s saddle. His hands are so large on your body that they almost encompass your middle section completely. Aemond follows closely behind, catching you a few times to steady you as your foot misses the gaps in the ropes clumsily.

You pull yourself up with a strength you never knew you had, settling into the saddle nervously. You could feel Vhagar breathing underneath you, feel her stretching out at the command of Aemond who was shouting out words in a tongue you’d never heard before. Of course… he was speaking High Valyrian.

“Rȳbagon naejot nyke, Vhagar. Heed ñuha udra.” Ready yourself, Vhagar. Heed my words.

Aemond all but jumps up to the saddle, and with a heavy thud he settles himself behind you. When he scoots forwards to grab at the chains hanging at your side, an even deeper blush covers your face and neck, heat pooling in your stomach. The hard plane of his chest presses against your back, the top of his thighs nudging the underside of your own, now bare as you straddle the seat.

“My apologies, Lady Robyn, but I must strap us to the saddle, and you to me lest we fall.” He laughs softly as he feels you tense against him in fear. “But we won’t, I promise you. I’d never let any harm come to you.”

With deft hands he ties the chains across your lap and his, wrapping a rope around your waist to secure you to him. All at once it hits you just how crazy the situation had become.

“Prince Aemond… I’m frightened! Please, let me off! I can’t do this!”

Aemond leans forward to grab for the reins, his arms tight either side of you, and his chin just above your ear. With hushed tones, he stops you, whispering into your ear.

“Yes. Yes, you can. You are of the Vale. You are of the sky. You and I are made of the same… We own the skies, little Falcon.”

Determination fills you, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You had to do whatever it takes. You would make your own destiny. You would make it out of here. You place your hands on the reigns next to his, so small and delicate next to his large strong fists.

“That’s my girl…” He murmurs, and you swear you can feel the crinkle of his smile against your hair before he shouts out to Vhagar.

“Vhagar, ñuha jorrāelagon, urnēptre īlva se nūmāzma hen speed!” Vhagar, my love, show us the meaning of speed! 

Aemond places his hand over yours suddenly on the rope, making your heart surge.

“Hold on!”

With a deep rumble, the ground shakes, it feels like the Earth is turning when Vhagar moves to stand on her haunches. Already you are above the trees, and she had not even taken off yet. Vhagar lets out a deep roar stretching her neck into the sky, the screams of Lord Royce’s men in the woods beneath echoing around her as they scramble to run away. She stretches out her wings beating them and like a hurricane they ascend into the night sky.

The forests fade beneath you, deep greens become soft pillowy whites as you soar into the clouds together. After a short while Vhagar’s wings extend, bringing you to a slow glide just above the clouds.

“Now, straighten your posture against me… and see, you’re flying!”

A rich and infectious laugh leaves his throat as the wind surrounds you. The careful pins and ties in your hair are long forgotten, your hair now cascading behind you, flying free.

You can’t help it, you’re not sure if it’s the euphoria of the dragon flight, the drama of the night, or the way Aemond had wrapped himself around you so, but soon you’re laughing with him, exclaiming out loud in a way that was hardly lady-like.

“See? My dear, you are a natural!”

“Prince Aemond, this is incredible! Vhagar, she is magnificent!”

“Se dōna riña thinks iksā gevie, Vhagar!” The sweet girl thinks you are beautiful, Vhagar! Aemond releases a deep belly laugh, slapping the side of Vhagar’s neck fondly.

With a shaking roar, a shooting of flames and sparks spit from Vhagar’s mouth.

He cranes his neck to look at you closely, a warm smile gracing his cat-like lips. “I think she likes you, Lady Robyn! Why don’t you tell her yourself!”

“I am thoroughly impressed, Vhagar! You are a first-class dragon; I adore your spark!” You shout to the ancient dragon as loud as you can against the rushing winds, almost as if you were praising a rather large scaly cat. The rumble that leaves her jaws sounds like a purr, almost the same way her master was chuckling behind you.

Beneath you the clouds become a mismatch of greens and multicoloured tents as you approach the grounds of the Eyrie. From up here you could see the ancient castle in all its beauty. Situated in the Mountains of the Moon and surrounded by cotton clouds, at this height it almost seemed small, like a child’s playset. The waterfall, Alyssa’s tears cascaded down the side of the Giant’s Lance, reflecting off the marble walls of High Hall.

“It’s beautiful… It’s gorgeous, Aemond! It’s like a dream…” For the first time in years, you feel truly alive, and it’s all because of him.

With a whoosh of her wings, Vhagar descends towards the castle and the Maiden’s Tower and it hits you that Aemond really meant what he’d said about having you home and in bed before you knew it.

“Prince Aemond… You’re not- You don’t expect me to climb through the window?!”

A snickering laugh escapes him as he presses his head against yours. You swear for a moment you can feel him smelling your hair, the thought making your thighs clench.

“Of course not. I intend to carry you through the window.”

“What?!” You utter before he shouts over your protests to his Dragon.

“Konīr Vhagar, tegun īlva!” There Vhagar! Land us. 

Vhagar’s wings billow out behind her, as she hovers down, clutching to the mountainside and the tower, bringing you level with the balcony of your chambers.

Quietly and ever so gently, he undoes the chains around you both, and the soft rope securing you to his front. Aemond swings his legs to the side, and clambers down the ropes at Vhagar’s large neck. There’s a confident look in his eyes and a glint of warmth as he reaches his arms out towards you, one leg propped up onto the edge of the balcony.

“Come down with me… I promise I’ll catch you. Vhagar already loves you, she’ll be still.”  

You take a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling before you climb down slowly and turn to face the Prince. His words from earlier echo in your mind… Trust me.

And you did. Without any hesitation you jump from the ropes and into the warm, strong arms of Aemond Targaryen. He cradles you to him in a bridal carry, strong legs pushing you forward through the balcony doors to place you down softly on the chaise lounge next to your fireplace.

A thousand thoughts run through your head as he lingers closely to you, laying you down gently. Aemond’s lilac eye searches yours intensely, his hand still resting beneath your neck, caressing the soft hairs at the nape.

“My lady… Robyn… you were spectacular tonight,” He swallows softly as his gaze slides down to your slim neck and collarbones, whispering your house words to himself as much as you in wonder, “As High as Honor.”

Slowly, he leans forward, staring at your bottom lip passionately. Your eyes flutter shut, your eyelashes batting against your cheek. With a gentle caress of your hair, he presses the tenderest of kisses, the only kiss you’d ever had, to your lips.

It lasted but a moment, but you knew it would stay with you forever.

Aemond pulls away gingerly, his silver hair tickling your chest. Like a knight from a storybook, he stands up tall and bows, taking your hand in his to kiss at the back of it with unearthly grace.

“… My lady, do not leave your room, keep the door locked… I will return to you soon.”

He moves to leave quickly, the sound of Vhagar rumbling outside the balcony doors. Before he can clamber over the side of the fencing you find the courage to stop him, calling from your room.

“Aemond! Aemond wait… Where are you going?”

With a flick of his silver hair, he throws a radiant smile to you over his shoulder, his lilac eye shining in the moonlight.

“To see my father. You will not be wed to Lord Royce… And I plan to fly with you till the end of my days.”

[fantasticalleigh]

season 3 part one thoughts:

ok ok i did finish B S3 pt. I and it's GOOD and i was really happy with it but now that my pulse has gone back to normal i'm realizing i have a lot of nitpicks/concerns with the storytelling but ngl the carriage scene was fucking BONKERS and my mind will be in the gutter for the rest of the weekend

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!!! bc i have a ton of thoughts on season 3 so far and have to get them out:

THOUGHTS:::::

-i could not stop smiling. my face hurts still.

-i don't get people whining about colin and the threesome. when the brothel threesome scene was leaked people were losing their goddamn minds about colin not being a virgin on reddit. y'all. he spent a LONG time traveling solo around europe--did you really expect him not to experiment the entire time? the fixation on this was kinda weird i gotta say. also i really liked that in the second brothel instance it served as growth to show colin was realizing it wasn't those women he wanted to have sex with, but penelope.

it seems every bridgerton lad needs a whoring about subplot in their respective season and colin was obviously going to get one if his elder brothers did, so i wasn't surprised at all. i thought the scenes were hot, personally. overconfident and super flirty col galavanting everywhere suddenly being reduced to a pining, thirsty af insecure boy was so gratifying to watch and those scenes had a hand in showing us that.

-i hate portia's costumes this season. hate. hate. hate. she looks like she was ripped right out of DIsney's Descendants set from the costume rejects pile. woof. she was stunning in s1 but s2 were her best looks and now she looks awful. why???

-i think the mondriches are ok and i like them but their story did not need expanding here. i'm happy for them but that storyline was boring and time taken away from more important characters. i know this sounds harsh but this season was already packed with storylines. across these four episodes there was a severe lack of Lady Danbury. one of my favorite aspects of Romancing Mr. Bridgerton was her friendship/mentorship with Penelope. that instantly made her one of my favorite characters. why not keep that in the show??? i'm so disappointed but with part 2 yet unreleased maybe it will still come?

-speaking of lady danbury, something about the way her brother is presented and how she treats him makes me worry for Violet, that he might disappoint her later. idk it's just a vibe i get.

-Luke's acting is fucking incredible. all the microexpressions and the lingering stares and subtle movements. nicola is a great actor in her own right but fucking hell, every time Luke teared up on screen I was mirroring him.

the carriage scene, when he's on his knees in front of Pen and she cups the side of his head and his eyes do THAT thing and the look he gives her? i rewatched that two second bit on repeat for a minute. amazing. (that's exactly the kind of devotion i picture when I wrote dark Dramione in TEOAL towards the end)

-we get it, benedict is a slut. he fucks. i'm over it. i'm not interested in who he's fucking. i know the consensus is Lady Tilley will somehow tie in to Sophie but i just do not care about Benedict rn. he is pulling focus.

-hyacinth's actress is so stunning! all the actors are obvs but every time i look at her i see Brooke Shields. anyone else?

-i had higher hopes for Lord Debling. genuinely kind of disappointed. he's boring and feels fickle. also the abruptness of him going 'i need a wife to tend to my estate so i can go travel for 3 years so be warned that i can't love you' to 'you have feelings for another man? i'm done-zo.' like what. you just said you can't love her and will never be at home with her but it's a fucking problem that she likes someone else? even though she's is clearly willing to get over it by marrying you??? bro. bro.

-hate what they did with Colin's hair for most of his scenes. why flatten it all out and take out the adorable curls he had in the first episode????????????????? episode one hairstyle was god-tier. everything after that makes him look like he's wearing a bad and stiff wig. still hot tho. also on the hair note: please stop giving eloise bangs. please.

-people on reddit were near to rioting when they learned Kanthony was only in the first ep due to leaks. i was bummed but ultimately don't mind it. did we deserve to see more of them thanks to how badly s2 was handled?? absolutely. but if it's only sex scenes bc they're now trying for babies then i'm good for now. also glad that edwina and mary don't come back bc ngl they pissed me tf off in s2 thanks to how badly they were written. plus like i said, this season has FAR too many subplots to keep them in. the writers really should have trimmed things down. violet meeting Lady D's brother was also not necessary imo.

-i went from loathing cressida to actively sympathizing and rooting for her to snatch up debling in the latter half. well done, writers.

-all the featherington scenes were gold. pru and phillipa are incredible when in scenes together and i'm so glad we got more of that. albion finch is a treasure, too. i really think they should have spent more time on penelope and her mother's relationship bc it's a big part of the book with how portia assigned pen to be her caretaker for when she got old and that being pen's burden/reason to want to bug out and marry rather than stay with her abusive mother, not her sisters' heirs taking charge of the house. they leaned too much into the comedy with the featheringtons and forgot to remind us why penelope is so miserable at home too--the problem stems from her mother, too, not only her sisters. we got two tiny clips of that and that was it. not enough to really establish that. the featheringtons are funny yes but they are not good people (sans Pen). Portia is neglectful and rude and dismissive toward Pen and there is not enough of that so far.

-i haven't read fran's book yet so had no idea what to expect and thought i'd be bored. she is adorable and i'm rooting for her. i like john better than the other guy. but i'm not that invested in her plot. i have no true emotional attachment to her. she needed her own season or to be pushed back to s4.

-still don't like eloise but i'm warming to her. a third season straight of her being condescending to almost everyone outside of her family/friends does nothing to endear her to me. she still blames Whistledown for "ruining" her when she ruined herself by ignoring everyone's warnings and running around town doing socially unacceptable things. she still has a right to be upset with Whistledown/Pen but she needs to take accountability for her own shit. but her understanding and patience with cressida was really surprising and i liked that a lot so far. i can see why people are shipping them now!

-HOW HAVE PENELOPE AND COLIN NOT EVEN DANCED ONCE YET WHAT THE FUCK jk i'm sure we'll obvs get that in part 2 but i'm so accustomed to them having a dance in one of the first few episodes that this truly threw me.

-colin's wet dream. loved it. ngl i was fully expecting a masturbation scene in his bed and not only bc i wrote one into my fic lmao

-i fucking called it from the start that the first kiss would be in the featherington garden based off that screengrab. everything about it screamed romeo+juliet. that was my favorite scene so far it was so beautifully shot and the way he goes for the lightest kiss at first and then hesitates and then GOES BACK FOR MORE???? when he realizes he's super into it???? i collapsed. i fucking squee'd like it was 2003.

-i've been complaining on reddit that the makeup in the promos was fucking awful and way too heavy. it comes across much lighter in the final product/show and i'm so relieved because i was truly worried about that. nicola is a stunning stunning woman and i can't help but admire her every time she is on screen and the awful makeup they put on her for those promos were overtaking her face.

-two major changes i truly appreciate (bc i'm normally very critical about shondaland's writing)

1: the journal scene. i loved that colin had pen hide in his study. i really wanted them to get caught there. i love that the journal fight wasn't as huge as it was in the book because the book made it go on for too long and colin was unreasonably mad about it. i'm so glad it was a minor thing here and that they still showed that colin was really pleased when pen praised his writing and he said he'd consider letting her read more and left it at that.

2: the carriage proposal. my biggest issue with the book bc colin was borderline abusive when he pulled her out of the carriage and made her fall. hated that so i'm glad here he was pleased and still mischievous and held out his hand for her and proposed and wasn't rude and impatient like he was in the book. also the carriage scene was hot as hell and i did not fucking expect colin to fucking finger her right then and there with the goddamned WINDOWS OPEN. tbh i was expecting boob action like in the book but that was a surprising change.

-pacing. too many storylines makes for a too-quickly paced episode. i feel like we were catapulted into everything and my head was spinning. this is a show that, because it insists on such a large fucking cast, would immensely benefit from a 12 or even 20 episode run rather than eight. but we know netflix is a cheap bitch so that will never happen and shows this dense suffer for it.

-music. i do not care about covers. i just don't. it makes no difference to me who is added to the soundtrack or the easter egg hunt of finding which song was used in which scene. the original scores made for the show are beautiful on their own and don't distract like the covers do and that's all i'll say.

-already seeing reviews online from people complaining polin have no chemistry??? idk what show they're watching but it ain't this one. this has been a slow slow buildup and if you can't feel their chemistry then idk what to tell you bc it is there. (and this is gonna be a hot take and unpopular opinion but personally out of all the main couples so far i found daphne and simon's chemistry to feel really forced and kind of cringey so take my opinion as you will but pen and colin have LEAGUES more chemistry as friends to lovers here)

BUT: one could also blame this on the awful pacing of these first four episodes so far. it really would have been nice to have more filler time of col and pen doing the flirting lessons since that was cut too short too soon.

phew--.

i will most definitely have more to say later on but these are my immediate thoughts and i had to get them all down . if you got this far down then bless you and thanks for listening and lmk your thoughts! i'm dying to talk about this.

[cherokeegal1975]

The Degan Incident series, trilogy review, it's mostly okay...

...and parts of it are on the icky side. Worth overlooking because the overall plot is okay.

The Degan Incident, The Cassini Mission and The Degan Paradox by Rob Calton. I have been looking and thinking about whether or not to buy them for a few years now. Finally I got them on Kindle.

I am off and on exploring books I normally don't pick. More often than not I do this on YouTube and found some really good ones I'd love to buy. I'll list those off later for you to check out later.

My favorite books are by authors like Mercedies Lacky, Heather Graham, Terry Brooks, Terry Goodkind, Robert Aspirin, Stephen King, Anne McCaffery, Dean Koontz...well, you get the idea.

So, in an effort to get out of my comfort zone I went exploring and found these three books. Now I don't mind this book is gay oriented, not to my taste, but I no, I really don't mind it. And I don't care how it's oriented, I generally don't care for romances. Stories with romance mixed in is fine, but the focus of the story has to be balanced...like The Outlander series by Diana Gabbledon for example.

In spite of being gay (no offense intended and I have no room to talk because I'm in the ace spectrum and some would argue that I am part of the LBGQ+ community in spite of being hetro as well as demi...it's really a matter of taste and nothing more) the overall story is a good one. Nicely balanced and has a good story plot.

The parts I didn't like has to do with the love scenes. Ugh. No class. It's not that there were two men making out that was off putting, it was the highly detailed spurting described that could have been toned down and left purely to the readers imagination. Any adult knows how disgusting anything primal a human does is. Even eating if you think about it. So that was over kill...and it seems to be a common thread with the few gay romances I've run across on YouTube and listed to because I was extremely bored and I am exploring. Haven't tried romances between two women yet, but there was a sci-fi story about a woman who loved her land and had to choose between it and the woman she loves. I saved the listing to check out in more detail later, but it seemed interesting. Another common thread is one man is more dominant than the other in some way. Why?

Fortunately I don't buy books like this except this trilogy and one other book, and after that I'm done. So done. I'd rather go back to the more mainstream stuff. Not that I hated the books, even the one I'm reading now seems like a good story so far. As I said, matter of taste, not prejudice. I don't even understand prejudices anyway.

So, I don't remember all the details exactly, just general plot lines (and yeah, I'd read this story again sometime). So there won't be too many spoilers. The main character is a war orphan all grown up living and working in a space station with his best friend and adopted brother on the same station. He meets an alien that's wearing a cloak and on a mysterious mission. They hit it off and that leads to the adventure.

Eventually the main character is mistakenly seen as a threat and kidnap him and hold him prisoner...I'll leave the why of that for you to find out.

And in the second book, the main character's adopted brother gets involved with another alien of the same species and both their DNA stolen for an illegal experiment involving the making of cyborgs. Or was that the third book?

Anyway, in spite of the over descriptive bits about sex fluids. And for me, strongly suggested sex or just implied is enough and have more focus on the adventure is more my speed. Not that I'd turn my nose up at a book with smut in it, so long as that's not the main focus of the book. Balance is key...and I'm not so bothered by smut that I won't enjoy something by Laurel K. Hamelton or the Earth's Children series by Jean Auel. I just prefer not to focus on...people doing it. Some people love that sort of thing, I just don't care and would prefer to leave it to the imagination rather than having it described in detail...and if it is, have some class by not describing bodily fluids in too much detail. Strongly suggest it and then move on.

This is my only complaint about the stories in this trilogy. Other than that, the overall plot is just good sci-fi. I'll hopefully get better at these reviews and still be mostly spoiler free. There is a balance to the romance, sex and the plot as a whole, so no problem there. But, just eww sometimes.

[thelostrainbowthenovel]

Tattoo Refs: The Other Main Characters

The third and last post of the updated tattoo refs, these are the ones for the other main characters(since I already did Gaia's in the Erdennian Characters post)! Like Gaia, theirs were all updated when I did their fashion posts a while ago, but a couple do have minor tweaks and this list mostly contains ideas for their future tattoos. All of these updated tattoos(from this and the other two posts) were so much fun to work on, especially in coming up with the meanings of each one~ I also do plan to draw these all out eventually, but when that will be is yet to be determined lol. But, I hope you enjoy!

================================================

- Nate: Still has his giant back piece of a phoenix, but sometime in the future he would get a sleeve on his right arm, of flames/smoke/ash(a mixture of color and blackwork), to symbolize his flame magic(and in a way, to honor his mother). After he gets married he would also get a small, simple outline one of a water drop that has a heart shape at the top, located on the inside of his left forearm.

- Tia: Still has her sword/fire tattoo between her shoulder-blades, but would get something pirate-related in the future(since it was one of her first/most frequent/intense special interests, and one that always brought her comfort and happiness), this being located on her left calf. She would also get something music-related along those same lines, either a violin + guitar or the notes to her favorite song, with this one either being on her arm or side of her ribcage. And for another one, she would get fire lilies on her right thigh(both for Ty, and because she finds the flower pretty herself).

- Maya: The only one who does not currently have tattoos, but she does have a few ideas. One on her right wrist of the word "empathy" with a heart outline going through it, the quote "choose kindness, always" with little swirly bits on her left collarbone, full-color iris flowers on the side of her left calf, and a crescent moon with stars on her left upper-arm.

- Brooke: Mostly just has his four current ones("be like water" on the inside of his right wrist, "live life to the fullest" on the left side of his ribcage, a small ocean wave-beach scene on his left ankle, and a matching one with Shannon of a small ocean wave-sunset beach with a sun scene on his left wrist), but is interested in getting more in the future. One idea being a matching one with his sister, this being a small collection of seashells(a nod to their childhood) on his right ankle. He also gets another tattoo that is inspired by one of his sister's, this being the birthstones of aquamarine and amethyst in the shape of hearts on his left forearm(his sister's and brother's respective birthstones). Like Nate, after he gets married he would also get a small, simple design of a flame that has a heart at the top, located on the inside of his right forearm. Also something witchy-related as becoming a witch was one of the best and happiest decisions in his life, this being a dark mermaid with a coral/seashell-covered witch hat and cauldron, this being on the side of his right calf, and the Tarot card "The Star" between his shoulder-blades.

- Talia: She does currently have one tattoo of a colored sun and moon + dangling pink cancer constellation on her left thigh, but after her capture, she is too shaken up and traumatized to even think about getting anymore tattoos or anything like that for a long time. Eventually sometime after having her future daughter she would get another tattoo, as a dedication to her little girl. This would be of two flowers, one being a bright, light-emitting flower(similar to the magic flower from Tangled), this to symbolize her daughter's name meaning and her becoming the "light" of her life, and the other being her daughter's birth flower. They would most likely be between her shoulder-blades, and probably the only other tattoo she would get.

[bookshed-books]

Joe Gould’s Secret

I’m almost half way through Joe Gould’s Secret and am very impressed so far. It is written by journalist, Joseph Mitchell, and it is written extremely well. So much so that even when the content does not interest me, it’s still worth it for the writing. Mitchell has amazing judgment when it comes to detail (what and how much to say). Through his writing, Mitchell is able to build very complex pictures, though the sentences and words that form them do not feel complex when reading - if anything they feel simple. I think this is an incredible ability / my favourite trait in a writer and it reminds me of Richard Yates. The book is about Mitchell’s encounters with Joe Gould, and I say encounters rather than opinions as Mitchell (at least from what I’ve read so far) maintains a strong journalistic style /objectivity in his recollections. Joe Gould was a kooky man who had an unusual and somewhat complex path in life, which led him to poverty, homelessness and a distain for middle class culture.

As I’ve already said, some parts of the story itself are not incredibly interesting to me, but the way Mitchell writes always is. Joe Gould is an easy character to dismiss - a stubborn failure aimlessly trialing along a fruitless path - he could easily be portrayed as a one liner. But I think Mitchell looks for something more in him. For example, Mitchell describes Gould’s appearance at their first meeting in a diner:

‘He [Gould] was wearing a limp, dirty seersucker suit, a dirty Brooks Brothers button-down shirt with a frayed collar, and dirty sneakers. His face was greenish grey, and the right side of his mouth twitched involuntarily. His eyes were bloodshot. He was bald on top, but he had hair sticking out in every possible direction from the back and sides of his head. His beard was unkempt, and around his mouth cigarette smoke had stained it yellow. He had on a pair of glasses that were loose and lopsided, and they had slipped down near the end of his nose. As I came in, he lifted his head a little and looked at me, and his face was alert and on guard yet so tired and so detached and so remotely reflective that it was almost impassive. Looking straight at me, he looked straight through me. I have seen the same deceptively blank expression on the faces of old freaks sitting on platforms in freak shows and on the faces of old apes in zoos on Sunday afternoons.’

This description of Gould’s gaze stuck out to me, that someone so opinionated and with little respect for conventional manors (and with little to lose by rebelling against them) could also be shy and guarded. Although Gould’s life might look different to other writers who graduated from Harvard, it seems like he shares many of the same struggles they would when it comes to writing. I wonder if he chose the life he did - the life of an outcast - to somehow free himself from these struggles, but ultimately fails to do so.

[asherlockstudy]

Hello! I was just wondering about mirrors in Sherlock. So, obviously, after your post about Irene and Moriarty, I knew Irene was a mirror. However, I couldn’t help but think of Major Sholto, from TSOT. I get a feeling he was a mirror for Sherlock in that episode, which was also mentioned in a post by the user cheuwing on tumblr. What do you think? Thank you, and have a nice day!

Much as I don't like this (there is so much the mirror thing can be used in a story), I agree that Sholto is a mirror for Sherlock. And we were told directly, after all.

Mr Holmes, you and I are similar I think.

Look at John's face hearing that.

There's a proper time to die, isn't there? And one should embrace it when it comes. Like a soldier.

Sholto essentially says that John's wedding is the proper time for him to die, something of course Sherlock talks him out of in order to not irreparably hurt John. Sholto also adds they should accept that (literal or figurative) death like soldiers and let's remember Sherlock's starting scene in TSOT:

Then it's how the murder happens. Sholto is killed many hours beforehand and his uniform / his belt keeps him alive. Once he removes it, he is going to bleed and die but technically he had been bleeding all along. This is a parallel of Sherlock "bleeding" throughout all these years after the Bart's rooftop, something that however is sealed with John getting married. And once he drops the fascade of the high functioning sociopath (the uniform of his job), he will be seen dying.

The slow murder is committed by Jonathan Small - brilliant, ruthess and a monomaniac in Sherlock's words - who is avenging his brother's loss, and thus kills for love. Jonathan Small is a mirror (another one! mirrors, mirrors, mirrors) for Jim Moriarty. Small courted women in Sholto's staff (like Moriarty courted Molly and Kitty Reiley as Jim from IT and Richard Brooke respectively), hoping to get access to Sholto. He also practiced the murder on young Bainbridge who died in his shower (Moriarty killing Carl Powers in the pool in an also undetectable way). Interestingly, Sherlock says Small was the substitute for the hired photographer, which could symbolize Moriarty following in the steps of Eurus.

Now let's go to Sholto as a character. Sholto is portrayed as very dedicated to his work and his uniform so to speak, like Sherlock claims to be married to his work. He is burned on the left (heart's) side from the collateral damage he caused and is haunted by - much like Sherlock's heart would be burned if John died like Moriarty promised. He is a recluse and very unsociable but from his interaction with John, it is obvious he has a very sentimental nature he supresses.

Sherlock is much more visibly jealous of him than he ever was of Mary; that is probably because Sherlock deep inside knows that John could not be deeply enamoured with Mary or that Mary was a substitute for him whereas Sherlock fears he was a substitute for Sholto. And, also, Sholto is a man and thus Sherlock feels more directly threatened this way because Sholto's dynamics with John must be more similar to his dynamics with John compared to John's with Mary's.

Lastly, let me take it a little further from your question and discuss what exactly John feels for Sholto and how it compares to what he feels for Sherlock.

John constantly talks about Sholto to Mary but not once to Sherlock. This means he knows Sholto's mention can ignite jealousy in Sherlock and does not wish this. Meanwhile, he doesn't care much what this might ignite in Mary.

There is formality in the way John and Sholto converse, which means whatever they felt was even more unspoken than what Sherlock and John feel. However, it can also mean that what John felt was less deep (because it certainly wasn't for Sholto). John doesn't look uncomfortable around Sholto who he hasn't seen in so long. He is formal yet joyous and at ease. This makes me think that whatever it is he felt is over now (thanks to Sherlock) although of course the fierce admiration and care remains. When he sees Sholto, he is like "oh wow he came" and seeing the love of your life after so long isn't usually so lightly taken. In short, Sholto has been effectively replaced in John's heart.

All this talk about John missing the war and grieving for the loneliness in his civilian life... but is it really the war he was missing? Sholto asks John whether he now likes civilian life and they both look pointedly at Sherlock and Mary. If we add this to Sherlock's explanation in HLV that John is abnormally attracted to dangerous people I might as well conclude that a huge part of John's fascination with the war and the crime solving was actually the people he had associated with them and loved so much.

Besides,

SHERLOCK: So why don't you see him anymore?

JOHN: Who?

SH: Your previous commander, Sholto.

J: "Previous commander?"

SH: I meant ex.

J: "Previous" suggests that I currently have a commander.

SH: Which you don't.

J: Which I don't.

SH: (smiles) Of course you don't.

Then a talk about Sholto's tragedy follows but John chooses to not answer why he does not see Sholto anymore. The answer is given geniusly in the very same dialogue though. Because "previous" suggests John currently has another commander, and Sherlock knows he does, no matter how hard John always denies it. Therefore, the reason John does not love Sholto anymore is that he has a new "commander".

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Reid x Reader

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” “So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

CONTENT WARNINGS: AGE GAP, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, STALKING, LANGUAGE probably the misuse of a Russian word  IF THERES MORE LMK 

A/N: Okay, let me be honest rq this idea lowk scared me but the words really just fell out of my brain really easily so, yk fuck it whatever.  ANYWAY, if you like, please let me know! 

pt 2, pt 3 “I love you Spencer.” The words immediately melted me. 

“I know so many things.” She gave me an unapproving look. 

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I do! Now for once in your life, listen to me.” She nodded her head in concession.

“I’ve just read more, I’ve written more, I’ve discovered and studied more than the average person. I could tell you a little bit about anything with one hundred percent certainty. I could--and want--to tell you the names of all the stars, I could recite verbatim the entirety of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus or Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, which you know, speaking of I will ‘cause I still can’t believe you haven’t read it,” Her smile flattened into a straight line, and I laughed. “Orrr, I could also tell you something simple, like why we get the hiccups.” I shook my head. 

“Regardless, I know so many things and I’m rarely taken by surprise because of it. Everything in life is a pattern of change, and as a human, we will always adjust and adapt to whatever situation we are in. For better or worse, we don’t feel the same thing for very long. This is why an addict takes a couple more every time, a sadist hits his second victim harder than the first, they’re searching for the high of the first time, and it will never come.”

She nodded in understanding, 

 “I know this is true, it’s factual, and yet every time I look at you it feels like the first. You’ve broken the laws of human psychology.” 

“First time you saw me was at a gas station Spencer.” 

“No. The first time I looked at you after I knew I loved you.” 

“Where were we?” 

“My car. You were dancing. You looked ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sexy? You mean?” She smiled. 

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” 

“So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin. 

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.” 

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled. 

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine. 

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine. 

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted. 

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.  

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss. 

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed. 

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.” 

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic. 

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.” 

“You are. So, so much smarter.” 

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest. 

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.” 

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?” 

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.” 

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other. 

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

“Must you work?” I sent the message to Spencer as I rolled over to his side of the bed in anticipation. I breathed in heavy, liking the way the pillow smelled like his laundry.

“Unfortunately.”  he responded. “Think you’ll be home this weekend?” 

“It’s not looking like it, little one. I’m sorry.” 

I didn’t reply. I was too sad to reply. I knew it’d make him feel guilty, which I didn’t want to do, cause like, his job and saving people and shit is important. But, it still wasn’t fair! At all. There was something very important I had to tell him. 

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

Total darkness, and then way too much light. My head hurt and I couldn’t move. I was handcuffed to a wooden chair. There were chains around my torso and ankles. The room was a medical sort of bright. It smelled like bleach and rotting fruit. The walls were dilapidated, seeming to be made of tiles that were once white, but have turned yellow. 

What the FUCK? 

“Hello!” I shouted. My voice was so coarse it hurt. Shit. My head pulsed so badly it practically hurt to think, but I still racked my brain. 

Where am I? 

How’d I get here? 

Why am I here? 

I woke up again. Fuck, why can’t I think? Why can’t I do anything? 

“Hey, y/n.” A woman’s voice. A very stoic, cold, sounding female voice.

I’m not alone. Thank god, oh my god, I’m not alone. 

With the little strength I had, I lifted my head to see her. She wasn’t what I thought. She was alright, she wasn’t tied. She did this to me? 

She took a sip from her silver flask, “Do you know who I am?” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“Typical.” She stood up and grabbed me by the hair, “You fucking disgust me.” Like, she said, she threw my hair away like it disgusted her. 

She sat back down on the bench in front of the chair I was chained to, “My name is Brook Austen. I was a professor at Georgetown last year. Taught a couple seminars at your school, that little university you go to, the students there were nothing like mine. Not nearly as intelligent, but as expected, Georgetown is much more prestigious, obviously.”

I was confused, and she knew, but did not care. 

“You’re not the brightest, y/n. Only slightly above average high school grades, strikingly mediocre academic performance now.”

Where the hell is she going with this? 

“And you know it doesn’t surprise me, per say, because every man on this goddamn planet is a piece of fucking shit! But I thought that, maybe, just maybe, Spencer was different.” 

She grimaced, “I thought he’d want more than just a pretty face! ‘Cause you might be prettier y/n, but I’m smarter.” Her words were laced with utter hatred. 

Her demeanor changed, and it almost started to seem like she was talking to herself. “I'm older. I’m more successful. I’m fucking better.” 

She approached me again, grabbing my face so I was looking her in those scarily light green eyes, and she wrapped her hands around my throat.  “I’m fucking better then you! Better, better, better!” Every time she said better she shook my neck and gripped tighter so I couldn’t breathe. 

“Stop! Please! Please stop!” I shouted, “I’m-I’m pregnant!” 

She began to break down, “You’re pregnant?” A maniacal chuckle left her throat, “You’re pregnant?”  

“Is it Spencer’s?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Wow.” She laughed once more, “Fucking wow.” 

“How could Spencer choose this!? You’re nothing like him. You are a pathetic fucking college student. A fucking daddy issue ridden slut! I’m a celebrated academic, just like him!” Tears began to slip from her eyes, “How could he not choose me?”

This woman is NOT well in the head. 

“You--you like Spencer?” I asked. 

“You don’t get to ask the fuckin’ questions here.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to the tip of my chin, “I do. So you’re gonna answer them.” Or, she started manically laughing, “I’ll kill you.” She swallowed, “And your baby.” 

I screamed at those words, “No,” I sobbed, “NO!” 

I turned my head away so I didn’t have to look at the woman in front of me, there was a timed red dot blinking. A camera. 

“Is that-- is that a camera?” 

She nodded, “I want Spencer to see you and his child die.” 

“He….No! No, please, No!” I choked on a sob and she smiled. 

“He doesn’t know.” She paced, “He doesn’t even fucking know!” 

She waltzed over to the camera and brought it closer to us, “Hey Spencer.” She began waving, “Hey Penelope. Aaron. Derek. Jennifer. Emily.” 

Her demeanor changed once more, into that of a cheerleader of all things, “So, quick recap.” Brook pursed her lips, “Spencer your twenty three year old fucktoy is pregnant. Congrats!” 

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Y/N was two things I didn’t know she was this morning: In serious danger, and the mother of my expected child. I felt frozen in trepidation. 

We all watched in horror as Brook greeted us. All by first name. She knew exactly what she was doing and it freaked me out even more. 

“Reid, you need to step out.” Hotch grabbed my shoulder, “Now.” 

I was sick with fear and ill with rage. I sat down because I could feel my knees go weak. Hotch started again, “We know who she is. We will find her. Y/N will be alright.” He paused, “So will the baby.” 

I replayed the events of the live footage in my head, her screams of pain and terror, her trembles and confusion. I’d failed her. I’d failed her and now I knew I’d also failed our child. 

JJ sat down next to me, “Spencer, when did you meet Brook?” 

“I uh,” I wiped my face, “A year and four months ago. I did uh, I taught uh, I taught a string of seminars at Georgetown. It was biweekly. Her office was next to mine. We spoke for the first time when she offered me a coffee.” 

“What did you say?” 

“What do you think I said?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, I said yeah, I fucking like coffee.” I felt instantaneously guilty for cursing, and especially at JJ but I was too frazzled for it to last long enough to apologize. 

“I know Spence, I’m sorry. Just keep going.” 

“Then, the next week, we got lunch together.” 

“Was it, you know, friendly?” 

“What are you implying Jennifer?” I snapped. 

“No Spence, we just need to know. You know that.” 

“It was-- it was just lunch. A very normal colleague to colleague lunch. We talked about the school’s history. And uh, where we grew up. It was small talk.” 

“Ok, was this the last time you spoke to her?” 

“No. There was one more time. Y/N was there.” 

“Tell me about it Spence.” She grabbed my hand, 

I breathed out, “It was the next week I taught after lunch. About two hours before my class. I was lesson planning, and Y/N was doing homework on my desk. She came in. She asked if I wanted to go get lunch. She saw y/n and--Fuck.” 

“What Spence? What?” 

“She asked me who she was, but it was like, she didn’t want y/n to know she was asking. She thought she was…”

“She thought she was what?” 

“A student.” 

“And what did you tell her?”  

“The truth. That she was my girlfriend.” 

“Did you see her anywhere else after that?”

“No. She never came by my office again. When I would see her by chance, she would scurry away. It was strange.” 

“Think really hard Spence. Did you ever see her again after you stopped teaching at Georgetown.”

I racked my brain, “Yeah. I did. It was two months ago. Three days after I proposed to y/n. She was getting a coffee at this coffee shop by y/n’s school.. I was bringing her some lunch” 

“Spencer she's been stalking you. Your proposal was the stressor.” 

“But--I’m a profiler. I would’ve noticed.” I stood up with a realization.            “What Spence?” JJ asked, standing up as well to look at me. 

“She’s been stalking her, not me. She knew I was a part of the BAU, she knew I would’ve noticed.” 

“I’ll tell the team.” 

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A/N2:  If this doesn’t totally flop, I’ll write PT 2, that elaborates on the reader’s and Spencer’s relationship. I think through flashbacks from both Y/N and Spencer would be a cool way to explore their relationship and of course the whole reader being kidnapped thing plot could develop. Again, if you enjoyed this pls let me know!!

[luckhound]

— heavy burdens.

pairing.  kaeya/gender neutral reader

genre.  angst

description.  on an important anniversary, kaeya gets drunk off his ass, bonds with a fellow captain, and realizes some burdens can’t ever be set back down.

warnings.  spoilers for kaeya and diluc’s character stories. mentions of alcohol and a character (kaeya) being under the influence.

note.  four months later and i’ve finally finished this fic after writing it on and off for that whole time mskfjdks a big thank you to sierra, miya, and grace for reading over the previous drafts of this and giving me their honest thoughts, love you ladies <3

He hadn’t expected to get shitfaced when he had first stepped foot in the tavern. Honest.

His plan for the evening was as follows: Go to Angel’s Share, chat with patrons, share some laughs, learn some secrets, and see where the night goes. Only the information he gleaned would tell how it ended; with him stumbling back to his quarters for a night’s rest, or ruminating on how to dismantle schemes that enemies of Mondstadt were concocting in the shadows.

So, the usual. Nothing too noteworthy.

Then he happened to overhear a conversation on the way there.

The two civilians spoke in low, somber tones about how it has been exactly one year since Master Crepus’s death and his son Diluc’s subsequent departure from Mondstadt. How terrible, they mused as they shook their heads, that the new winery master hasn’t been heard from since. He must still be in mourning over his father.

Kaeya nearly stopped in the middle of the crowded street. Was today really the one-year anniversary of Master Crepus’s death? How had it managed to slip his mind? He’s been busy lately with a promising lead, true, but to think that he would forget...

Which, long story cut ruthlessly short, leads him to where he is now. Tuning out his tumultuous thoughts with the help of alcohol and secrets.

Upon entering the tavern to raucous cheers, he had flitted from table to table like the social butterfly he's purported to be. The usual suspects greeted him with varying levels of warmth, inviting him to sit and keep them company. Stable hands and bandits alike shared a drink with him, words spilling from their lips like the fine wine they supped on.

After some time, though, he grew tired of their monotonous days and banal gripes. So he retreated to the bar counter. As he nursed a Death After Noon, he kept an ear out, listening carefully even as he chatted with Charles between customers.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t heard anything juicy yet. So and so is complaining about his wife, while someone else is haranguing her boss, and another is celebrating their birthday. Dull and uninteresting.

Can you blame him for getting so deep in his cups? There’s nothing else to do on such a slow night.

“So this is where you decided to hide out. Colour me surprised.”

Kaeya notes the shadow falling over the counter moments before a familiar drawl reaches his ears. He tilts his head up, blinking furiously when his vision blurs. The drinks he's downed thus far—how many has it been? He lost count after five, how unlike him—have certainly reached his bloodstream.

You stand beside his stool, your lips thinned into an unimpressed line. Despite how inebriated he is, the relevant information he has on you flashes through his mind. A Knight of Favonius. Captain of the Intelligence Team. Once a company grade officer, then sergeant, lieutenant, before ascending to captain upon the retirement of your superior.

As admired as he is by most of Mondstadt, you’re among the minority who are far from his biggest fans. For good reason, he supposes. During your first meeting, he had congratulated you on your promotion, before going on to flippantly insult your old captain. You’ve hated him ever since.

Which is why he’s puzzled by you approaching him first—outside of headquarters, at that. Such a phenomenon is rare, like catching a crystalfly in your hands.

“Captain! Fancy seeing you here,” he greets, adopting a jovial tone. Then your words register in his addled mind. “‘Hide out’, you said? Whatever would I do that for?”

You prop a hand on your hip. “You didn’t make an appearance at the meeting today. Needless to say, the Dandelion Knight isn’t too impressed with you at the moment.” You appraise him, looking underwhelmed by what you see. Ouch. “Strange. You don’t seem terribly ill to me.”

Ah. That. Kaeya had wanted to investigate some curious rumours he’d heard around the city, so he made up a flimsy excuse to dodge the captain’s meeting held this morning. Grand Master Varka likely hadn’t batted an eye over it, but not Jean. She’ll have concerns.

He hums noncommittally. The thought of annoying his oldest ally never fails to bring a smirk to his lips, but he isn’t quite in the mood right now. “Is that so. You must be here to sternly tell me to clean up my act then.”

You scoff. “Surely you don’t need a second babysitter. No, I’m off-duty, so I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to drink.”

“Hear, hear.” He lifts his tankard as if to toast to you, but the sudden momentum causes him to sway dangerously in his seat.

“Careful!” Eyes widening in alarm, you reach out to steady him. “Geez, Alberich. How many drinks have you had?”

The palm of your hand is warm where it sits on his shoulder; he can tell that even with his furs in the way. He almost leans into the touch but catches himself at the last second. How mortifying. He can just picture your horrified reaction to him drunkenly nuzzling up against you.

Almost falling off his seat in a crowded tavern, instinctively seeking out your slightest touch... He needs to get a hold of himself. Or find a way to halt the conversation here, so he can resume drinking by his lonesome.

“Not nearly enough,” he answers airily, leaning an elbow on the bar counter. You drop your hand to your side; he makes a point to not stare at it as you do. “Where’s your entourage? I’m surprised they aren't following dutifully behind you.”

“They’re my subordinates, not my entourage.” You shift awkwardly. “And they aren’t here. It may surprise you, but they have lives outside of the Intelligence Team. They can enjoy one evening without their captain breathing down their necks.”

He eyes you in amusement. “In that case, you should join me. I would welcome the company.” He finishes off his tankard, then motions to Charles for another drink. The bartender doesn’t even ask which one as he takes the pewter mug. He knows him well by now, after all.

Kaeya expects you to turn him down and find a seat elsewhere. Usually, such an invitation is enough to send you running for the hills. You lean a hip against the counter instead, as if settling in. “If I am not mistaken, you’re needed at headquarters tomorrow. I strongly advise you to call it a night, Captain.”

“Aww, are you worried about me, Captain?” He manages a grin at the scowl his reply elicits. “Don’t be. It won’t be the first time I stumble into work hungover. Certainly won’t be the last either.”

“How reassuring,” you say dryly.

“I aim to please.”

He perks up when Charles returns with a full tankard. The delectable taste of Death After Noon still sits on his tongue, warm and heady. He very much wants to experience it again. When he lifts the mug to his mouth, however, he misses the rim. He steadies the tankard before it empties itself onto his lap, but some of the wine drips down his chin, ruining his vest.

Thank goodness he isn’t drinking red wine. Every adult in Mondstadt knows red wine stains are notoriously difficult to clean. Still, what a waste of a perfectly good sip.

“Oh, for Barbatos’s sake.” That’s all the warning he gets before his drink is rudely snatched from his hand. He protests but can only watch helplessly as you bring it to your lips.

Then you proceed to down it.

His brows raise higher and higher the longer your throat bobs. He's never seen you drink with such gusto before. Shouldn’t you be gasping for breath by now? But no, you empty the tankard in a single go, then slam it on the counter (Charles makes a face, but wisely says nothing) and meet his gaze without flinching.

Wow, is all that his intoxicated mind can conjure up at the feat.

“There, all done. Now let’s go. I am walking you back.” Your voice is firm, brooking no argument. How captain-like of you. “Wouldn’t want Mondstadt’s illustrious Cavalry Captain to be found passed out in an alleyway tomorrow.”

On any other day, he’d be mildly irked by your stubbornness. But he did just spill his drink down his front like a newborn babe. No wonder you brought up his rank. In your eyes, his conduct must not befit that of a high-ranking knight. He doesn’t care what assumptions people form about him, never has, but tonight has been a bust anyway. Maybe it's best to call it quits.

Sighing theatrically, he rises to his feet. “All right, I know when I have been beaten. But don’t change your plans on my account. I can head to the barracks by myself just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” you say, “but letting you walk alone this late in your state would grate at my conscience. So would you stop talking for once, and let me take you home?”

You get what you want. Your words render him silent.

Home, you called the barracks. He supposes you consider that place your home. But is it his, truly?

He thinks of Khaenri’ah, nothing but a distant, bloody memory. He thinks of his father, and how in their final moments together, the man had stared through him like he wasn’t there. He thinks of the Dawn Winery, where he had spent several years causing mayhem. He thinks of Master Crepus, never dad, and a brother who doesn’t exist anymore.

No, the barracks aren’t his home. Maybe he’s never had one to begin with.

When he comes to, Kaeya registers you leading him in the direction of the tavern door, your hand on his shoulder blade. This quickly catches the attention of the patrons. They call out their goodbyes, some raising their tankards and others chuckling good-naturedly.

“Look at that! Our Cavalry Cap’n had too much to drink, eh?”

“What, are you tapping out already, Captain Kaeya?”

“Has to be escorted out by a fellow knight, no less!”

You wave over your shoulder. “Just doing my patriotic duty, that's all.”

Kaeya gives his audience an exaggerated wink (as well as he can with his one uncovered eye) followed by a lazy hand salute. His grin remains fixed in place until the door swings shut. The wooden barrier barely muffles the sounds of conversation and merriment coming from within.

Had it been that loud while he was inside? He hadn’t noticed.

He isn’t able to dwell on it for long, because you nudge him in the direction of headquarters. “Come on. We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let’s get to it.”

“Oh, very well. But only because you asked so nicely.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I know. I was being sarcastic.”

You nudge him harder, and he snickers under his breath as he walks.

This time of night, the cobblestone streets seem devoid of life. With the exception of Patton, who’s practically asleep standing up, the two of you don’t run into anyone. It's a stark change from how the city usually is, bright and bustling with crowds.

It suits him just fine, though. The crisp night air is sobering him up somewhat, the fog that had settled over his mind thinning. All too soon, he recalls everything he was trying to suppress.

Master Crepus. Diluc. His callousness and cruelty in forgetting them both.

In hindsight, he should have taken his mug back from you instead of just gaping like a fool. Sobriety is such a drag.

“You’re quiet,” you comment. You’re staring at him intently, your expression eerily similar to Timaeus��s when he is observing an alchemical reaction. It’s as if he is a specimen that you are keen on studying under a microscope.

He wants to scowl, to snap at you. “My apologies,” he says instead, as innocent as can be. “Were you waiting for me to strike up a conversation? Hold on a moment, let me think of a good topic...”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. It’s just, usually it’s impossible to get you to stop talking. The times I have seen you...indisposed”—buzzed as a bee, you undoubtedly mean—“that doesn’t change. You talk more, if anything.”

Curiously, your voice softens, an odd cadence colouring it. One he has not heard from you before, not directed at him at least. “I guess I’m just wondering if something is weighing on your mind. Is that what prompted you to drink so much tonight?”

By now, the two of you have walked down the stairway to the Knights of Favonius’s bulletin board. Of course, Hertha isn’t there this late to assign requests and bounties. The pieces of parchment pinned to the board flutter in the breeze. He stares at the sketch of a Ruin Guard, willing his sluggish mind to craft a suitable answer.

After a beat, his eye slides over to you. An impish grin curls at the corners of his mouth. “My, I had no idea that you watched my every move so closely. I’m flattered by the attention.”

Predictably, you sputter. “What even—that is not—you know what, if you want to dodge the question so badly, fine. We can just walk the rest of the way in silence.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

Although his words were said to fluster you into changing the subject, as you had correctly deduced, Kaeya means them. You have noticed him far more than he realized. As Captain of the Intelligence Team, it’s your job to be observant and keep tabs on others. He knows that. Still, it’s disconcerting to learn that you’ve had a close eye on him in particular.

He operates from the shadows for a reason; he can’t have you jeopardizing that by shining a light on him. Five months into your new position, and already you have proven yourself to be dangerous.

As you wished for, silence reigns as the two of you turn into an alley and approach two flights of stairs, leading to the center of the city. Kaeya resists pressing a hand against the nearest wall for balance. He had walked down a stairway unaided just moments ago, despite how unsteady he felt. Surely ascending some steps would prove to be easier.

Rather than focus on his feet, he looks up ahead. From his position, he can just barely glimpse the blades of a windmill, ever-turning against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He keeps his gaze there as he climbs, his boots scraping against stone.

He clears the first flight of stairs with little issue. See? Nothing to it.

Halfway up the second, Kaeya stumbles.

His surroundings tilt, blurring as he fumbles for balance. It’s a futile effort. Thanks to how inebriated he is, his limbs are too heavy and uncoordinated. The stone below rushes up to meet him.

Before his face can greet it, however, you catch him.

Your side moulds against his, a hand clasping his hip while the other carefully grasps at his spiked pauldron. His gloved hand covers yours reflexively as his racing heartbeat settles. He feels you stiffen at the touch, but you don't pull away. Neither does he.

For a moment, not a word is spoken between you both. The alley is filled only with the soft sound of breathing.

Then you click your tongue. “So much for heading back by yourself. You can barely keep your feet under you.” Your voice lilts with humour.

He knows this song and dance. It has been ingrained in him after all these months. You snark at him, he snarks back. Rinse and repeat. Although this is the first time he has heard levity in your tone; the first time it has been aimed at him, that is. He almost hadn’t thought you capable of it.

He straightens with a chuckle. “First at the tavern, and now in an alley. I just keep falling for you tonight, don’t I?”

You blink owlishly. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then a flustered expression crosses your features, before you compose yourself. “You are unbelievable.”

He grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes, even as the corners of your lips twitch. “You would.”

Kaeya expects you to move away, so the two of you can resume walking, but you don’t. “Not that I mind having your hands on me, but...will you be letting go any time soon?”

“That depends.” A challenging glint appears in your eye. “Can you handle walking on your own? Or do you need me to cradle you the rest of the way to headquarters, like some damsel?”

He guffaws, taken off-guard by the retort. A reply escapes his loosened tongue before he can think better of it, ���Archons, that sounded just like him.”

“Like who?”

“My brother.”

In the past, despite being underage, he was sometimes able to charm bartenders at Angel’s Share—new hires unaware of how to deal with him as of yet—into serving him drinks. Diluc would find him eventually, a disapproving twist to his mouth, and put a stop to it.

Back then, Kaeya was a lightweight and had to be supported back to headquarters. Diluc would scowl and roll his eyes the entire way, but there was still a softness in his gaze. His hands were strong, but careful; Kaeya knew that his brother would not let him fall. He could even be persuaded to join in when Kaeya began to sing, their off-key voices disturbing the silence of the night.

Come morning, while Kaeya nursed the inevitable headache and Jean nagged him about violating the Knights of Favonius Handbook, Diluc would snort. “Serves you right,” he’d say, then hand him a draught for curing hangovers.

Now Kaeya must weather the pain alone.

You tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on his. “I had no idea that you have a brother,” you say softly.

Had, he nearly corrects. But he has told you too much already.

This is why he is so careful when drinking in the company of others. Alcohol is a double-edged sword; as delectable as it is, it also loosens inhibitions. It’s what he relies on when charming information out of allies and adversaries alike, none of them the wiser of what they have given up.

How the tables have turned.

“Well, now you do.” A trace of bitterness enters his tone.

You eye him, quiet, before pulling back. You motion forward with your chin. “Let’s keep moving. We’ll never make it to headquarters at this pace.”

Relieved by the subject change, he listens. He makes a conscious effort to place one foot in front of the other, gaze trained on the remaining steps below. You stay at his side, closer than you were before. He can feel your hand hovering at the small of his back, ready to catch him should he trip once more, but he ignores it.

It won’t happen again. He’ll make sure of it.

The alley opens up to a view of the market district. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have long to enjoy the reprieve. The two of you turn right, away from the railing overlooking the main square, to climb two more flights of stairs. A left, and more stairways await.

By the time the Knights of Favonius Headquarters looms above you, Kaeya’s legs ache from the walk. He is very much looking forward to retiring to his quarters.

The knights stationed outside stiffen at the sight of you and Kaeya, standing at attention. They perform a salute in perfect unison. Do they rehearse that before every shift? Surely they must.

The guard on the left, with the glasses and unfortunate haircut, chirps, “Good evening, Captains! I hope you are doing well.” He appears wide awake despite the late hour.

At least the one on the right looks appropriately haggard. “Welcome back,” he grunts.

While Kaeya brushes past them with a nod of acknowledgement, eager to head inside, you stop. “Good evening, Athos, Porthos. Your shift ends soon, I hope? It can’t be terribly interesting, standing watch outside headquarters so late.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Captain!” Athos, as you had referred to him, says. “Guard duty may not be glamorous, but it is still important.”

“Much as I agree with the lad, I can’t bring myself to be so damn cheerful about it,” Porthos sighs, his words tinged with self-deprecation. “Must be ‘cause of these old bones.”

“That’s not true, Sir Porthos. Your bones aren’t that old!” the younger knight argues, prompting the older to shake his head with a chuckle.

“Athos isn’t wrong,” you add. “You are far more sprightly than most knights I know.”

“If that’s true, then Mondstadt is in trouble.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you finally pass by them, climbing the short steps to return to Kaeya's side. He lifts a brow as he pulls on one of the large oak doors, holding it open for you.

It’s almost comical how quickly your smile disappears. Your eyes narrow as you enter inside. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he says breezily, following after you. The door falls closed behind you both with a loud, echoing thud. “Just that I didn’t know you were so chummy with the guards.”

It is blindingly bright inside the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, as if it isn’t nearing midnight. The sconces on the walls are lit up, as is the chandelier hanging in the center of the main hall. The two of you make your way towards the—joy of all joys—staircase. The barracks for knights are located on the second floor, and on the floor above that, separate quarters for the captains.

“I am off-duty right now. It’s not unprofessional for me to speak informally with them.”

His eye widens. “Why, I never said it was unprofessional, Captain.”

You grind your teeth so hard he can practically hear the enamel wearing away. “You implied it.” No, he didn’t. Your distaste for him has you imagining mockery where there is none. As if Kaeya has any room to judge someone for acting unprofessional.

“I did? That’s news to me.” Privately, he marvels at how easily he can agitate you. Him, no one else—he has observed you long enough to know your prickliness is reserved for him alone. Maybe that’s why he annoys you further instead of clearing up the many miscommunications that tend to occur. Not that you’ll believe him, even if he’s being completely honest.

You huff. “How the Dandelion Knight manages to put up with you, I’ll never know,” you mutter.

“How rude, Captain! Jean doesn’t put up with me, she considers me indispensable.”

You cut a look at him. “Yes, I’m sure she thought the same when you failed to show up to today’s meeting.”

“Must you bring that up again? I shudder just thinking of the lecture she’ll have ready for me in the morning. Perhaps my mysterious ailment should plague me for a little while longer...”

“Prolonging the inevitable will do you no favours.” You pause briefly, then add, “Ah, I almost forgot to mention. After the meeting, I ran into Inspector Eroch. He was waiting outside and asked after you. He seemed irked when I informed him that you were absent today.”

If Kaeya was not so skilled at masking his reactions, he would’ve perked up at that. He might have even stopped in his tracks or whipped his head around to look at you. But he knows better than to give himself away so obviously. He leisurely climbs the steps, his features revealing only vague interest. “Oh? Somehow I doubt he was upset out of concern for my wellbeing.”

You glance over. “I wouldn’t know. He did not say anything when I asked why he wanted to see you, or if I could pass on a message. He just brushed me off and left.”

“Don’t be hurt by his shameful conduct, Captain. I for one enjoy your company immensely.”

You ignore his thoughtful statement. “I thought that he might have had a prior engagement with you, which you missed due to being terribly ill.”

He shrugs. “If we did, I don’t recall it.”

That earns him another look, longer than the one before. He doesn’t flinch away from it, his expression remaining serene. Privately, he wonders what you know. Are you merely intrigued by what Inspector Eroch might want with him? Or are you more aware than you’re letting on?

After all, Eroch is the one Kaeya has been secretly investigating for the past year.

Looks like the inspector has caught on. About time. No doubt he wants to figure out just how much Kaeya knows—which is not much, unfortunately. He knows that Eroch has more than just Mondstadt’s best interests in mind; a Fatui spy like him would have just the opposite. But he is unsure what the man is up to, or who he even is.

He does, however, have an inkling. Several, even.

Inspector Eroch had been insistent on covering up the details of Master Crepus’s death. For the good of Mondstadt, he claimed, not wanting the citizenry to lose faith in the Knights of Favonius. Grand Master Varka had ultimately sided with him. It resulted in Diluc resigning his position and leaving the city a year ago.

Kaeya had kept an eye on the inspector after that. He knew there was more to the situation than just preserving Mondstadt’s trust in the Knights, and it had everything to do with the dangerous and evil power Master Crepus had harnessed. It was only a matter of figuring out what. And once he has all of the information...

Well, he knows what Diluc would do, once upon a time. Blazing with righteous fury, he’d take his findings to Grand Master Varka, insisting on Eroch’s arrest and expulsion from the Knights of Favonius. He would see it as retribution for how poorly his father’s death had been handled.

But Kaeya suffers from no delusions. Maybe he looked into Eroch because of Master Crepus. Maybe he wanted some kind of revenge for what happened. Maybe he yearned to atone for his past inaction. None of that means he has any heroic intentions.

If it serves his interests better, he won’t expose the inspector immediately. He will hoard his knowledge instead, keeping his cards close to his chest until it’s the right time to play them.

That is how he has always operated. Master Crepus's death and Diluc's departure have not changed that. For a brief, nonsensical moment, he wishes they had. Then common sense returns to him. A foolhardy sense of justice is of no use to him. He’ll leave that to Diluc.

While he extricates himself from his wayward thoughts, you turn away to clear the last few steps. “If it is important, surely he will try to approach you again,” you say.

“I look forward to it with bated breath.”

You scoff, rightfully skeptical, but don’t respond. Clearly, you are content to leave it at that.

He wonders at how easily you let the subject drop. Had you suspected something, you would have pushed to learn more, wouldn’t you? Now is as opportune a time as any; it’s late, he’s tired and drunk, and the both of you are alone. Does that make you oblivious, or an idiot, or crafty?

Having made it to the third floor, the two of you make your way down the hallway. His quarters are before your own, three doors on the left. He stops in front of his door, reaching into one of many hidden coat pockets to produce his key.

He glances at you. You have yet to leave for own your room. “You don’t have to hover at my side, you know,” he says with a touch of amusement. “I may be tipsy, but I am no longer in any danger of being harassed by ruffians or passing out in the streets. Unless you're secretly harbouring nefarious intentions towards me, Captain.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” is your unruffled response.

Chuckling under his breath, he unlocks his door and lets it swing open wide. It’s dark inside, faint moonlight shining through the small window above his desk. Coupled with the sconces out in the hallway, however, there is enough light for him to stumble to his bedside without stubbing a single toe. He doesn’t bother to close the door on you; he has nothing to hide.

Kaeya knows what his quarters must look like to a stranger. They’re a mess, as if someone had searched them in a haste and not bothered to clean up afterward. The walls are bare, save for a map of Mondstadt that he’d hung up ages ago. Tomes of all sizes and loose leaves of parchment litter his oak desk, pushed up against a wall. A quill lies abandoned atop a half-finished note with ink drying on its nib. His closet door is cracked open, a discarded boot dissuading anyone from forcing it shut.

Yes, his quarters are a mess. But he knows exactly where everything is. Should someone actually attempt to search his things, he would know immediately. Not that they would find anything particularly damning. He isn’t foolish enough to leave important documents or sensitive information lying about—nothing he is unwilling to part with, anyway.

“Horrifying, but unsurprising,” he hears you mutter to yourself.

Kaeya doesn’t even consider slipping out of his ruined clothes or engaging you in further conversation. Now that he has made it back to his quarters, all he can think about is the sweet embrace of sleep. He sinks into his unmade bed, draping an arm over his face.

You continue to linger in the doorway. “You should change before you fall asleep.”

“Mhm.”

“You'll regret not doing so in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” He still doesn’t move.

“Alberich. You stink of booze.”

“You sure know how to compliment a guy, Captain. I’m impressed.”

You sigh, long and loud. He waits to hear the door close behind you, only for you to walk up to his bedside. Your steps are slow, hesitant yet purposeful. He stiffens, immediately on-guard, but fights his instincts in order to remain still. What are you planning?

He feels you grip his boot. Metal jingles as you undo the buckle. Then you pry it off.

He lifts his arm to peer up at you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You set his boot on the ground, then move on to the other one. “If you won’t change, you should at least take off your shoes. You’ll dirty your sheets otherwise.”

Oh, you make it so easy for him to twist everything you say into an innuendo. For once he resists the urge. “You forgot something,” he says instead. He wiggles his sock-clad foot at you. Just to see if you will do it.

You grimace, swatting his leg away. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be anywhere near those.”

So you say. But you’re taking his boots off for him out of your own volition. There is no need for you to do any of this. It’s not your duty to stop him from drinking himself into a stupor, or walk him back to headquarters unharmed, or all but tuck him into bed. Yet here you are.

What is it that you want? There have been plenty of opportunities for you to try and take advantage of his drunken state, but you have sidestepped every one. Frustration brews in his sternum.

“Do you do this for everyone who you hate?” he finds himself asking, tone purposely lighthearted.

You pause in your ministrations to stare at him. “What? I don't hate you.” At his disbelieving look, you insist, “I don’t. You have always been a pain to deal with, sure, but I never once felt that way.”

He smiles, unconvinced. “Not even when I insulted your dear old captain?”

“Insulted my... That was months ago, when we first met.” Despite your bewilderment, you take a moment to contemplate his question. “I was upset with you, yes. But now that I’ve had this position for some time...maybe your assessment wasn’t off. When I was lieutenant, I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my captain. They were too set in their ways and scorned most criticism. I respected them, and still do, but I shouldn’t be ignorant of their faults.”

Your gaze meets his once more. “In a way, what you said that day led me to realize that. You weren’t badmouthing my captain; you didn’t have a vendetta or want to get a rise out of me. At least, I don’t think you did. You must have legitimate issues with their leadership, as a captain yourself.”

He watches you shrewdly. Your tone was even, your expression clear. He cannot detect any deception from you. Of course, that means little. Still, perhaps you’re telling the truth. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

A headache, newly formed, pounds at his temple. If he were more sober, he would be better equipped to handle such a revelation. He’ll have to come to a proper conclusion later.

You fiddle with the buckle on his remaining boot. “And what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me?”

“You have ample reason to look down on me. Most of the knights know that you aren’t just Cavalry Captain and Quartermaster. Your role is more important than that. Surely you would make a better...” you trail off, your jaw working silently.

Kaeya knows how that sentence ends. Surely you would make a better Captain of the Intelligence Team than me. It doesn’t come as a surprise.

Up until now, he thought he knew you well. You made it no secret you loathed him. You have never said so explicitly, but he has a talent for reading people. It’s a classic case of envy. He has seen it many times before. You compare yourself to him and find yourself wanting. It colours the way you interact with him; your words brusque, your gaze narrowed.

Not only did he insult your captain, but you consider him more capable than you. Your hatred makes sense. It’s predictable.

Or so he believed, until tonight.

“You know what, never mind. Forget I asked.” Uh-oh. Seems he took too long to respond. You busy yourself with unbuckling his boot, avoiding his eye.

If he were to be honest, there are many ways he could answer you. He thinks you are a better captain than your superior could ever hope to have been. He thinks you are a leader capable of inspiring undying loyalty in your officers. He thinks you have a deep, unflinching love for Mondstadt and its people. He thinks you constantly push yourself to greater heights, to the point it lights a fire in him as well.

He admits to none of those things, in the end.

“Give yourself some credit, Captain,” he murmurs. You glance over in surprise. He meets your gaze. For perhaps the first time in a while, he hopes his words sound sincere—not because he doesn’t mean them, but because he does. “I know the officers under your supervision think you’re a good leader. They wouldn’t want anyone else to take your place.” Certainly not someone like me.

Instead of reassuring you, however, his answer seems to do the opposite. You look frustrated. “That isn’t what I...” you trail off. You search his features, silent, before your brow furrows. “I can’t tell if you mean what you just said. Sometimes I’m not sure I ever can.”

He takes care not to allow his features to visibly harden. Of course you would doubt him, the one time he tries to be honest with you. What else did he expect? Maybe you don't hate him, maybe you never have, but that means little. You won’t ever fully trust him. To be fair, the feeling is mutual.

His mouth tastes unbearably bitter. It must be the wine.

“At this point, I’m willing to say just about anything if it’ll mean I can get some shut-eye.” He feels no satisfaction upon seeing your shoulders stiffen. He still manages to grin. “Well, Captain? Any other requests?”

“No,” you say. Then you tug off his boot with a brisk motion.

He stifles a yelp. “Hey, now! No need to be so rough.”

“My sincere apologies.” You set the boot down next to his other one, your lips thinned. “I should go. Wouldn’t want you to lose more sleep than you already have. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, after all.”

Talk about vindictive. Despite his irritation, he has to fight a smile. Knowing you, you’ll see it and take it the wrong way, as you usually do.

Having finished removing his boots, you turn and walk for the door without another word.

He’s struck with the odd urge to stop you. To reach out, take your hand in his, and tug you back. Not because he wants something from you, or needs to tell you something. He wishes you would stay a little longer, that’s all. Wants the silence to be filled by your voice instead of his thoughts.

Now he knows he’s had too much to drink. He’s contemplating such ridiculous things.

Before his addled mind can catch up and he can say something, apologize perhaps, you shut the door behind you. Your footsteps travel down the hallway, slightly hurried. The door to your quarters creaks open then closed.

He’s too late. It’s for the best.

Kaeya lies back and stares up at the ceiling. His vision swims, as if he’s adrift at sea. Closing his eye only makes it worse.

His mind pores over the events of the day. Investigating Eroch, remembering Master Crepus and Diluc, visiting the tavern, running into you. He feels restless, pulled in several directions at once.

With a harsh exhale, he rises to his feet and locks his door. Then he begins his nightly ritual.

His pauldron is first to go. It hits the floor with a dull noise. Then he peels off his gloves and tosses them on the desk. The burns on his hands have long since healed, but he still deals with numbness now and then. Not many know they even exist; he doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of a potential weakness. His eyepatch follows closely after.

He removes the Cryo Vision from his belt last. He stares at it, its blue glow washing over his scarred palm and turning his skin a sickly brown hue. If it’s been a year since Master Crepus’s death, it has been about a year since he was gifted a Vision as well. The sight of it has been a hard reminder ever since. Of how he’d won a difficult battle. Of how he’d finally revealed the truth. Of how he can never speak it again.

He tucks the Vision under his pillow, then collapses back into bed. An odd sensation fills him, as it does every time he completes this ritual. It’s like he has taken off every scrap of armour he has and foolishly exposed himself to danger, despite being alone in the stillness of his quarters.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him under.

It never does.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Paramount War (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

ace’s execution is, in a way, the exception that proves the rule when it comes to one piece’s themes of blood and family. ace is set up to die for the crimes of a father he never knew and never wanted, and he does die here, but in the end he dies for the family he did choose, in the form of luffy, rather than the one he didn’t. 

god do i wish we knew more about ms portgas d. rouge. with ace’s storyline pretty much wrapped it looks unlikely that we’re going to be learning more about her than what we got, which in my opinion is an absolute tragedy, because what little we do know about her is amazing and she’s an absolute badass. oda give us more female ds please.

whitebeard’s power is so cool. it might be one of the visually coolest devil fruits we’ve ever seen, in my opinion. he he causes earthquakes and tsunamis while far past his prime; he pulls the sky apart with his bare hands. this whole arc is world-shaking, and whitebeard’s power is perfectly appropriate for it. 

doflamingo’s speech on justice and rightness is one of the most well-remembered quotes from this whole saga, and rightly so. i’ve always found it fascinating, myself, because he’s right. he dead-on hits how the one piece world works- the world government and the marines rule the world not because of any inherent actual goodness or justice or right, but because they won a war a very long time ago. 

in a way, this reminds me of blackbeard’s line of “people’s dreams never die” from jaya. i like how oda isn’t afraid of letting his villains be right about the themes of the story, sometimes even having better awareness of them than the protagonists. 

man, if i had to pick a single favorite spread out of the whole manga, it might be luffy’s marineford entrance. it’s so epic, and so completely unexpected for everyone else there. absolutely nobody was expecting strawhat luffy to drop out of the sky with a posse including two former warlords. it just makes me grin!! so much!! 

it also gets followed up by a solid two pages of just people’s reactions, from smoker’s “what the HELL is he doing with CROCODILE” to moria’s immediate incoherent rage, and i just love that the world and cast of one piece is so well-established and built up that we know exactly how all of those people know luffy and why they react the way they do. 

going back to what i mentioned in the last post about marineford being luffy’s conflict of interest arc, i’d say it’s also the only time where he isn’t the future king first and foremost. in this arc, before anything else, he’s a little brother.

there are a lot of what-if moments in marineford. moments where you kind of have to ask “what if this specific thing hadn’t happened, had gone differently?” would things have turned out differently? squard’s betrayal is one of them. does this change the outcome? would whitebeard have been able to survive if not for this injury? there’s no way to know. marineford is a lot of little tragedies, and they just pile up and up.

marineford has just so many incredibly striking spreads. all of the momentous moments (and there’s a lot of them, in this arc) are done full justice. this is such an image heavy post just because marineford is such an incredibly visually strong arc. 

conqueror’s haki is so cool and i love the way it’s set up and built up throughout this saga, with luffy’s constant inadvertent uses of it, from duval’s bull to marigold and sandersonia to the wolves in impel down, all leading up to this moment. 

i’ve heard people complain about conqueror’s as kind of a deus ex machina, but i honestly love it, it’s very cool and honestly i think it just seems to fit luffy as a power. if there was ever gonna be a character who turned willpower into a weapon, it would be monkey d. luffy. 

i’m gonna take this chance to talk about garp, because this sequence of panels is heavily implied to be garp’s thoughts just before luffy punches him down, and it hurts. garp is a flawed person who makes some bad choices, and there’s no arguing that, but i think it’s very obvious he really, really cares about his grandsons, even if he never could understand them as people and that they never would have been happy as marines. and that’s just tragic, really. 

the moment ace gets freed and the brief span of time where he and luffy can fight together feel so triumphant, and i think it’s one of the reasons the final tragedy of marineford hits so hard and feels so cruel, because luffy succeeds, here. he saves ace. he gives absolutely everything he had and makes it, and saves ace. the ultimate failure isn’t his. there was nothing more he could have done. 

the first time i was reading one piece, i hit this page (which is also the last in the volume) and had to put the book away, take the bus downtown, wander around for a few hours, and buy myself some candy and some new books before i started feeling okay again.

the thing about ace’s death, i think, is that it’s a tragedy, but it also feels so completely essential to the story going forwards and luffy’s character growth specifically that it’s really, really hard to imagine one piece without it. there are a lot of (really excellent!) fix-fics out there for marineford, and although those are often really good and their authors super talented, i think it’s really hard for them to ever hit the same way canon does with regards to this. 

i always think of this scene specifically in contrast to zoro and mihawk’s fight, back on baratie. zoro and mihawk are both people who believe in honor in battle, true victory or death, and that’s reflected in their fight, in zoro’s refusal to turn and run even in the face of imminent death, and mihawk’s respect for that resolve. whitebeard, too, is an honorable man. he refuses to turn to run, even when facing certain death. 

the blackbeard pirates, however, are not. 

i do enjoy how, just like roger’s, ace’s execution backfires tremendously on the marines. this was entirely a predictable outcome, too! this exact thing happened twenty years ago! the marines don’t learn. they don’t change. they’re so assured of their own rightness and power that they make stupid mistakes like holding a massive public execution after the last one blew up in their faces. 

(this is why they need coby so badly, for the record, and why it’s important that he still decides to become a marine after witnessing their corruption firsthand in shells town. the marines are long overdue for a reformation, one that orients them towards real justice.)

i really, really enjoy crocodile in this saga. mostly because he hasn’t been redeemed at all, he’s still pretty much the exact same kinda awful person he was in alabasta, he’s just on luffy’s side this time, and it lets us see him in a better light, when he gets angry at whitebeard for nearly dying or when he helps luffy and jinbe escape to keep the marines from getting their way. few of one piece’s characters are truly so one-dimensional as they can seem, and i really appreciate that. 

i really really love all the interactions between luffy, ace and sabo as kids. they’re so fun and bounce off of each other so well. even though we only see them together for a brief time, they really feel like siblings. (which of course only makes later events hurt so much more.

i’ve always been a little fascinated by the fact that it takes us this long to get luffy’s full backstory. it’s almost a fakeout, because we get part of his backstory in the very first chapter, and we’re kind of led to believe that’s all there is. it’s not until ace’s introduction nearly two hundred chapters in that we’re given any indication there’s more.

but at the same time, it makes sense. marineford is luffy’s focus arc, as arlong park to nami or thriller bark to brook. he hasn’t had a focal arc that’s really about him before this, while all his other crewmates have. it makes sense that this would be when he finally gets his flashback. 

i think it’s cool that dragon and the revolutionaries show up at the grey terminal fire, because it’s one of the only looks we’ve gotten so far into what their actual regular operations are like. and, of course, they’re saving people. i really like this about the revolutionaries, that helping people in trouble is basically their modus operandi, when pretty much everyone else in one piece’s world mostly does saving on an incidental basis if at all. 

i think a lot about how the last line of sabo’s letter to ace is also both of their last words to the strawhats. 

death in one piece always feels much realer and more impactful to me than in most other series, and i think this is part of the reason why: in one piece, we are always shown the mourning. nami at bellemere’s grave, carrot grieving pedro, ace and whitebeard’s funeral. 

there are fewer deaths, comparatively, than most other series, but they’re given so much room to echo. we’re still feeling the impacts of ace’s life and death in the most recent chapters of wano. it ties into the theme of inherited will and all the way back to hiriluk’s final speech, of men not being dead so long as they’re remembered. 

the picture of luffy at marineford always kind of strikes me. he looks so young and so solemn, and yet much more himself than he did when we last saw him losing his mind on amazon lily. i really like it. 

sometimes i just think about the sheer depth of trust and love the strawhats must have in each other to separate for two years, far longer than they were ever together, to solely dedicate themselves to improving for the sake of crew and captain. none of them even hesitate, and none of them ever doubt that the crew will be reformed at the end of it.

after all, luffy keeps his promises. 

[mariaiscrafting]

You know, what think I like when you are critical of a content creator is that you know how to separate a fact from especulation, unlike a blog out there that took especulation as facts.

Example, that night when we were critical of Karl, or any instance you have discussed about him, a lot of anons were saying that he gave them clout chaser vibes to them, and despite your opinion, you expressed that those were only especulation and not the truth, and to keep that in mind. That's good critical thinking.

But this blog had some similar anons, saying that he only is friends with the Feral Boys gro clout- In fact, they said the Feral Boys were only in it to benefit from clout and money. And they took it as a truth. I know you instance on them is neutral, but come one, they are friends. All of them. Karl isn't friends with them for clout. Like today Karl was playing golf with salad gang plus Sapnap and George at first and then Quackity and Dream joined bc they had spared time and it all devolved into typical chaos (Poor Corpse and Tina and Brook, had to endure those children lol/lh /j). Like, the stream wasn't planned with the 5/5 yet they joined, missing Karl and just having fun.

Idk, I guess that blog's superiority (They were a SBI focused blog) just irritated me. It's as if they were putting both groups at each other as if those streamers aren't friends or close. They were singing prayers of one while shunning the other based from especulation. Criticissism is fine, in fact recommended to be critical of your interests, but taking rumors as facts to base your crit is yikes. It's as if I wanted to crit SBI and base it only of "Philza hanging only with people younger than him is kinda weird ngl.." or "Sbi doesn't care about Tommy cuz he joined late" like that dumb Tumblr post did or some fuckers in Twitter imply.

The main reason I take so much care to separate speculation from evidence-backed theories and confirmed truths is because I feel like that separation is what distinguishes us from mcyttwt the most. One of the main reasons for mcyttwt's toxicity, imo - for its relentless cancelling of everyone, for its bandwagon campaigns - is that people oftentimes criticize and defend based on their personal feelings rather than rationale or evidence.

For example, I complain a lot about Dream stans on here, but you know the reason I didn't stop watching Dream directly after the cheating scandal broke loose, even though I thought he cheated? Because of mcytblr Dream stans. Mcytblr Dream stans engaged with me in discussion, both publicly and in DMs, about the cheating scandal, and even those who eventually came to the conclusion that Dream didn't cheat accepted the facts and statistics they were given and kept a healthy skepticism throughout the process. On Twitter, Dream stans were defending him before he even made a video following up to the mods' initial accusations because they felt that Dream wasn't the kind of guy to lie or cheat. They were replying to screenshots of statistical analyses from subreddits and to articles from mathematicians and staticians with extremely reactionary responses because of that feeling, which they believed in so adamantly, they had accepted it as fact. The thing is, to believe that Dream didn't cheat in the face of all the statistical and rhetorical evidence to the contrary is, in itself, speculative. Usually we think of speculation as a baseless theory that something is a positive truth- that is to say, that something did happen. But speculation also applies to those theories of someone not having done something, when the opposite has been nearly proven to be true.

For this same reason, I chose not to ignore the anti-technotwt threads with screenshots of Techno's old tweets in them. For me to have simply ignored these screenshots and continued supposing that Techno never expressed bigoted beliefs and/or currently doesn't would have been speculative on my part, and to boot, blatantly wrong, given the evidence to the contrary.

People in this fandom, and in all RPF/RPF-adjacent fandoms need to understand that almost everything they believe about the CCs they watch is speculative, at least to some extent, because of the nature of the content they make. Even if someone, in your opinion, displays evidence of some aspect of their personality - whether that be some form of bigoted, sweet, rude, clout-chasing, or anything else - because of the extremely one-sided nature of sharing one's life through a screen, that theory of ours will almost alwyas only ever be speculation, not a solid conclusion that can be drawn. We will never know these people's true intentions behind something shared to us via the Internet.

That vagueness leads to virtually every viewer creating a different theory in our heads about the CCs we watch, and we can't treat those theories as facts, especially not when sharing them with the rest of a fandom. I'm not a very big blog, but I consider even over 50 followers to be way too many people to spread a theory too, without at least clarifying that what I'm posting is speculation. If I have evidence, I like to list it or, if I can, provide sources; but otherwise, I take care to qualify most things with phrases or disclaimers that will clue followers into the speculative nature of whatever it is I'm saying. This is because theories and "feelings" can blaze through a fandom like wildfire, especially somewhere like Twitter, where so many things are word-of-mouth or based on summary due to character limitation.

You know why mcyttwt was cancelling Andi? Only a handful of original Tweeters under the cancel Andi hashtags actually knew what clips or tweets to criticize her for, or tried to elaborate on that criticism. But because every other mcyttwt user was getting bombarded by their mutuals hate-posting about Andi on their TLs, the "negative feeling" towards Andi grew and grew, even if most people didn't even know what they were supposed to feel negative about, exactly. Our judgement works on a quick trigger on the Internet because of the amount of information we're receiving, and so, even a single bad word against someone you don't have too strong of an opinion on can fundamentally alter your perception of them, usually subconsciously. If the first thing you see about Andi, who you've only seen on a couple LOH's or a couple Punz streams before then, is a tweet along the lines of, "disappointed in Andi for her homophobia and joking about suicide," despite you having no context, you will most likely be pushed to the negative side of her. Thus begins the cycle of hatred, building up and up, leading to you searching for more and more criticism about Andi, whether speculative or not, until you solidly and genuinely believe she is a Horrible Person. It all starts with the vaguest fucking feeling, because that's all speculation has to go off of, and it snowballs into a fucking wildfire across an entire fandom. I'm not about to be another person to let feelings snowball and spread like that.

Now, I don't know what exact blog you're referring to, but as an adamant SBI enthusiast, let me flip the argument many SBI stans have for their speculation upon the genuity of Karl's friendship with the Feral Bois, onto SBI. What do we have to go off of for the genuity of SBI's friendship, anyways? Our perceived brother dynamic between Tommy and Wilbur could very well just be Tommy capitalizing on Wilbur's brand and continuing the charade until now because it's been profitable. Maybe Techno only continues to associate with SBI because he knows how much his fanbase likes headcanon'ing about SBI, so he puts up with streams with them so he can continue to feed his fanbase with dynamics he knows they're obsessed with. Maybe Phil would rather play MC with people his age, and actually dislikes that he's friends with a teenager, but sticks around because he profitted so much off of Dream SMP and SBI-related content. And what could any SBI stan have to argue with me on any of these theories? Just because SBI laughs around each other and seems fond of each other doesn't mean they're actually like that behind the cameras. They so seldomly stream or make videos together anymore, anyways, so maybe they've grown tired of keeping up the dynamic.

Everything I said could be interpreted as utter bullshit, and that's because it fucking is. I don't actually know what Techno wants to do with his life, or how Wilbur and Tommy actually feel about each other, or who Phil wants to fucking befriend. The same goes for Feral Boys. There's nothing wrong with stating your theories or speculation, but to treat them as fact or not at least qualify such posts with the fact that this is all based on your bias and opinion, and no substantive evidence, is irresponsible. Just because you feel like one or more of the Feral Boys is "clout-chasing" doesn't mean you have the right to tout that feeling as truth. I feel a lot of things about a lot of CCs, both negative and positive, but no matter how strong my feelings, unless they have substantive evidence backing them up, I have no right to treat them as facts with my followers.

[twinkleallnight]

A Twisted Tale

Chapter 1

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 1787

Characters: Liam, Leo, Riley.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: None.

A/N: An AU of The Royal Romance paving its way through mixed emotions of wants, needs and desires, of revenge and regrets, of trust, faith and hope.

A joint venture brought to you with love by @annekebbphotography and @twinkleallnight .

Liam’s POV

It is one of those days again. I have to attend a UN function and I am not looking forward to it. There’s more than one reason, one is that none of my friends have joined me for this function, and the other reason is that the girl I am pinning for doesn’t want anything to do with me. How in the world will I win her over? I have tried everything, but I am almost sure she sees me as my father.

I look myself over in the floor length mirror, I look the same as always, the regal king. Did I want to be king? No, but when my father died unexpectedly and my brother took off, I had no choice but to take over. That is when things changed for me and now, I am fighting an inner battle with myself.

After a short drive, I walk into the hotel where the UN function was being held. Like always everything is posh and regal. What I wouldn’t give for something to be a little different. I scan the room and my eyes land on a petite brunette. She has a pink floor length dress on, it hugs her curves perfectly. My feet follow their own path as they walk over to her. She isn’t like everyone else, she’s open and her smile is divine.

I freeze as my heart stops when she laughs. Why am I feeling like this when I am in love with someone else? Maybe it’s just because I am feeling lonely.

She turns around and locks eyes with me and I swear I feel my heart skip a beat. She’s got the most dazzling blue eyes, but it doesn’t compare to the eyes that haunt my dreams. What I wouldn’t give to be with my love right now.

“Hi, I’m Riley Brooks.” She holds her hand out to me to shake. I take her small hand in mine and smile at her.

“Liam Rys.”

Her eyes go wide and she drops in a curtsy. Her cheeks have a faint pink tint to them.

“No formalities please. It’s just us.” I give her a reassuring smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She says relieved.

There was something about her that made me want to get to know her better, not romantically, but as friends. She makes me feel at ease.

A song comes up and I give her a wicked grin as she shakes her head from side to side. “Would you like to dance?” I hold my hand out to her as everyone else watches us.

“I would love to dance.” She says through gritted teeth and takes my hand. I lead her to the dance floor and pull her closer to me.

We move together perfectly, she leans in. “I am so going to get you for this.” She whispers, and for some reason that statement excites me.

“Do your worst.” I twirl her out and pull her back to me. She laughs as we move around the dance floor perfectly.

After the song ends, we walk off the dance floor and towards the bar.

“You are not what I expected. When they told me that a king was going to be here, I thought he was going to be old and uptight. I am happy it’s you though.” She glances at me to see my expression. All I could do was smile at her.

We order our drinks and take a seat at one of the tables. We talk about everything and anything.

I learned that she has a political degree and has applied for a PA position in Europe. I also learn that it is just her, no family and that she hopes to find that special someone one day. She is the fresh air that I need in my life.

I look at my watch and see that It’s almost time for me to meet Leo, but I don’t want to say goodbye to Riley just yet.

“What would you say if I offered you an PA position at the palace?” I ask without hesitation. I need a personal assistant and with what I see and heard, she will be perfect for the position.

“Are you being serious right now?” She basically jumps up and down in her seat.

“Yes… I want you to be my personal assistant. You will have to come back to Cordonia with me tomorrow.” I raise my brow and wait for her to explode with excitement.

“I would love to. Where should I meet you and what time?” Her eyes sparkle with excitement and I can’t help but get lost in them.

“Meet me at the airport at 8am. The flight leaves at 8:30. Please don’t be late.” I look at my watch again and know that I have to leave right now.

“I will be there.” She smiles as I get up.

“I have to go. I will see you tomorrow.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. It doesn’t feel the same as when I kiss HER. The one that has had my heart for so many years. I need to speak to Leo, he would be able to help me get my mind right.

I give Riley one more wave before I walk out of the room heading to where I have to meet Leo.

*******************

I walk into a dimly lit bar and see my elder brother sitting at the bar. He looks happy and relaxed.

“Sorry, I’m late…” I apologise.

Leo smirks at me. “Your majesty!” He curtsies teasing me.

“Always the funny one. How have you been brother?”

I take a seat next to him as he pushes a glass of whiskey over to me. I need this so badly. I have two pairs of eyes haunting me right now.

“ Never felt better.” Maybe he is trying to express his new found freedom after abdication.

“Are you alright little brother? You seem delusional.”

I have as I take a sip of whiskey letting it burn my throat as it goes down.

He continues prodding. “Are the kingly affairs burdening you or the extra affection for the king from the fairer sex exhausting you?”

“I…. I’m confused….” Leo raises his brow at me motioning for me to continue talking. “I’m in love with someone but she hates me or should I say our family. Or that’s what I gathered. And then tonight I met a girl with the most dazzling blue eyes and the sweetest personality. But she’s just not Her….” Leo nods in understanding.

“Green versus blue or green versus brown.. maybe we Rhys men are always in a dilemma to choose.”

I know he is comparing my situation with his own. Referring to Madeleine’s green and Kate’s brown.

“It’s not for me choosing. I know who I want, she just doesn’t want me. To make it worse I am taking the girl I met, back to Cordonia with me.

“Woah! You mean you have your baklava in the freezer back at home and you are buying cronuts to take home?”

I spit the whiskey I had just taken a sip of, out and cough. “What…. No not at all. She will be my new assistant.”

Leo sits there unaffected just smiling at my state. “The assistant, like the billionaire’s assistant from the romantic books?” He nudges.

“Nooo, it will strictly be professional….” I get half a smile as I take a small sip again. “And maybe a bit to make someone jealous.” I know I am all confident with Leo,but let’s face it I will never do anything more than just attend functions with her.

“All work and no play makes the king a dull boy”. Leo tries to push in his playboy streak.

“I will have you known that I am not dull at all. I have my fun.” I say a matter of a fact.

Leo’s eyes widen to take in the new image of his younger brother displayed in front of him.

“Close your mouth big brother, you will catch a fly.” It’s my turn to tease.

Leo’s open mouth turns into a wide grin. “I will make sure to follow ‘The Trend’ to read about your adventures. Make the Rhys blood proud, baby brother!” He raises his glass in a toast. “So what advice are you looking for Li?”

I consider him for a moment. What did I want from him?

“How do I make Her fall in love with me? How do I make her see I am more than just a Rhys.”

“You have been drooling over that girl since you grew balls. Had it been me, by now I would have given her the magic of my physical therapy. That always works for me.”

I wince at the imagination of my brother in action. Before Leo can give more varied ideas I raise my hand. “ I think that’s enough food for thought.”

Leo shrugs, “ As you wish. I would still say, be bold and try taking some risk. What fun life is without a bit of adrenaline rush?”

I nod and ask for the bill.

On that note, I bid Leo farewell and get back to my hotel to prepare for the journey back home.

********

I wake up with a heavy headache the next morning. Why can’t I get the two ladies out of my head. It is like they are playing ping pong in my mind. ‘I need to get back home. I need to make Her see that I care about her. I need her to see that I am not like my father.’ I get ready with that thought.

*************

I have been waiting for Riley at the tarmac. She messaged that she was running late. I think of calling Her in the meantime. I heard the phone ringing and it dragged me into her thoughts.

She must be sitting at her tea table at this hour. Her slender manicured fingers playing at the rim of the cup making circles. Her pink lips touching the porcelain softly, sipping the hot beverage. The skin on her throat would be moving slowly, warming up as she would swallow her drink. I have imagined my fingers over her silk smooth neck, many times. Her sharp voice pulls me back from my day dream. “Hello” At the same time when Riley calls, “Hey Liam. Sorry I got late.”

I signal Riley to hold on for a minute.

“Good evening to you, Olivia .”

Olivia snaps, “You are with someone? And calling me?” She abruptly hangs up with that.

My head is hung low. Riley looks at me questioning.

All I can utter is, “Bad timing!”

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[pure-kirarin]

could we still submit random asks? if so, could we know who your top 5 one piece women and men (separate) are? I looove making these lists in my head and you seem to have really good taste !! 🙈

Of course of course! You can always send your random asks, I love them, I use them as little breaks whenever I study hehe, so they're really fun to answer for me.

This is a very hard yet interesting question. I don't know which criteria you'd like me to pick to classify my favourite characters but let's see!

TOP 5 One piece men

Luffy

Doflamingo

Sabo

Ace

Brook

TOP 5 One piece women

Robin

Perona

Pudding

Tashigi

Ulti

Explanation for my choices under the cut:

It was really hard, and I honestly didn't give it much thought apart from the first ones in each list. So, Luffy is my all time favourite character. He is a comfort character to me. He just taught me a lot of things and for me he is the best written MC.

Doflamingo is another amazingly written character, he's also my favourite villain <3 I like his characterization, he feels extremely real to me. He is charismatic, but also nuanced as a villain. I like the tragic aspect of his personality, he feels like he's out of some play or novel.

For Sabo, how could I not include my husbando and best boy? Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of screen time, however, I see a lot of potential in him, and some of his traits are really appealing to me in a subjective way. I can't wait to see more of him!

About Ace, I'm a sucker for big brothers haha. But I also love ASL as a trio! I love this character so much, he is also a big comfort to me. Reading Ace's novel gave me more insight into his personality. I like how cheerful he is, but also that part of darkness, the weight of all of that pain that he had to live with </3

Brook-- I think we can all agree that I have a thing with characters that surpassed their past. I like how optimistic he is and how funny he acts. I love his calm yet chaotic aura. He's such a comfort character for me as well and his past is one of the saddest in the whole series. He waited for over 40 fucking years, he has probably seen things none of us did and still, he's always so cheerful! >o< He makes me so happy everytime.

Other fav characters include: Yamato, Fujitora, Rayleigh and Koby, but due to very little screen time I can't really add them here.

I won't give reasons for Robin because I think that I made a long time ago...Oh fudge, I can't find it...Well let's just say that she's perfect? She is a very mature character, I really love how gentle and kind she is. She is also very interesting! I love her design, her introduction, everything about her. I like how she uplifts people as well >o< like, she never drags people down! Her "I want to live" moment inspired me a lot. She taught me so so much. I cried many times watching Enies lobby. Honestly, I love her with all my heart and no other female character comes even close to how much I love and admire her.

For perona & Pudding (link to a post I did about the reason I like them)

I like Ulti for similar reasons, I simply kin her. I find her very funny and amusing. I like her relation with Page One. One of things I like most is that she's very strong, her fight with Yamato was so cool!

About Tashigi- I think she's an interesting character overall, won't go into details because I need to go back to study, but I can't wait to see more of her =) she seems to have strong values, but her values seem supple. She is a part of the new generation of marines that aren't as dogmatic and that seem enlighted. She seems like a very fair person. She also has many cute sides to her.

Other female characters I really love are : Dadan, Tsuru, Nami, Shyarly.

[thelostrainbowthenovel]

Been in a little bit of a next-gen mood lately for some reason, so here's two new concepts I was thinking about! :3 I made these using this picrew, mainly to test out colors and some design ideas, but I do want to sketch/draw these two myself someday! As for these characters, they are the daughters of Meredith/Adrien and Damini/Apollo, respectively. I had the idea to create the Mere/Adrien girl because I wanted to play around with the concept of giving them a daughter(since they only have sons), whereas for the Mini/Polly girl I just randomly had the idea for her(maybe because they are a main ship in my brain right now), but she also serves as a "big sister" figure to Mira.

Here's some more info on both of them! ^w^ I'm putting these under a 'readmore', just in case you haven't seen any of the related next-gen posts/don't want any potential spoilers(albeit, minor ones at this point)!

================================================

* Nerissa Alagona

Daughter and youngest child of Meredith and Adrien, younger than Wade by 1 year. Princess of Mareas. Shoulder-length and straight navy blue hair(with an aqua tint) and side-bangs, pale skin, light green eyes, light blue markings on her joints, ears pierced, and glasses. She came as a surprise for her parents as they did not expect to have another child so soon after Wade, but were excited to have their daughter. Many expect her to be like the classic "fairytale" example of a princess, and while she is a genuine sweetheart, she is not really much of a proper princess. Finding both her brothers to be a little bit annoying, Dallas for being too much of a stickler for following rules and Wade for being too mischievous, she is always snarking with them. Even though she sees herself as the more rational, down-to-earth sibling, she is more of a shut-in and has her own nerdish or "weird" interests that make her more wary of interacting with her peers. Despite not having many friends, she much prefers the company of her family and is close with all of them. Particularly, her dad whom she has tea parties with all the time, and her cousin Mira, as they are the same age and bond over many things, such as not feeling like "proper" princesses and sharing some "weird" interests that others don't understand. Although not that interested in becoming a full-fledged witch herself, she does find some rituals and practices fascinating from she has learned about from her uncle Brooke, and she enjoys seeing how Mira practices her own craft, even if this has gotten them into some trouble and mishaps as she's not that experienced or in-control yet.

* Elora Koeler

Daughter and only child of Damini and Apollo. Part of Feor's noble class. Medium-length and fluffy/messy medium-brown hair(with a light-brown gradient) with long bangs in a shag/wolf-cut style, tan skin, silver eyes, a mole on the right side of her chin, several ear piercings, and a right eyebrow piercing. She was born a little earlier in her parents' marriage than they were expecting, but both her absolutely blessed and happy to have her. In both of their eyes she is their little princess, as the love to spoil her but also teach her the importance of remaining humble and working hard for yourself. She takes a lot after Apollo as she was always inspired by her dad's more alternative and "flashy" style growing up, and has taken a big interest in music thanks to him, too. Though their tastes and style in genre differ, she loves singing and getting the chance to do father-daughter duets with him. She also takes a lot after Damini, being a little more chill and down-to-earth but still friendly like her, and with the combined fiery-and-metal-bending magic she was born with, she often helps her mother in the forge for her jewelry business. She's also pretty close with her aunt Brigit, who always supports and encourages her niece to be her true self, and her uncle Nate, as she always found him so cool and who also inspires more of her alternative-punk style. Although she always appears so confident, she deals with a lot of self-esteem and mental health issues she doesn't always share with others, with her only having two friends she feels the most comfortable opening up with. Oriane Brand, one of her besties since they were young that always understood her and knew the best ways to comfort her, and Princess Mira, as they both are only half-Feorian and can have those conversations of stigma they feel and experience about their respective other heritage.

[bebepac]

With You

This is chapter 29 of the The Life of Riley.  To catch up with what you’ve been missing  please click:  The Life Of Riley Masterlist

This is @wackydrabbles​​ prompt # 83:  That makes my  {body part } tingle. which will appear in bold. 

Jaiden Brooks and Sal are my own characters.  All others belong to Pixelberry. 

The Book:  TRR (Liam’s last night in New York)

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Word count: 1992

Warnings: Sexual Innuendo, profanity. 

Summary:  Riley takes Liam to the Statue of Liberty 

Song Inspiration for this episode: I Like Me Better  by Lauv

I don’t own rights to the music. 

Riley giggled.   He pulled away from her with a sheepish smile.  “What?  What did I do?”

“I’m ticklish there. You were tickling me, the way you were gently touching me there.”  

He wrapped his arms around her hips pulling her closer to him again.  “Not on purpose.”

Liam smiled again. Gently touching her. "Like this?"

"That makes my whole body tingle."

He kissed her cheek, his lips drifting to her neck. He nibbled on her neck. Riley pulled away.

“Do you really have to leave tomorrow? Or is this just a game you and your buddies play and you really live on the upper east side?  It’s clear you’re some rich guy.  And you’re just down here for the night, slummin’ it?”

“Riley don’t do this….”  Jaiden said.  “Don’t push him away because now you are starting to realize what this could mean.”

“I don’t understand?”

“And I’m just another notch you’re trying to get on your belt tonight.”

“I wouldn’t treat you that way Riley.  I don’t know much about you, but I know you are more special than that.”  

His voice softened.

“And if I did have the privilege to be with you for the night, I would treat your body like a sacred temple.”

“So you’re going to take your shoes off and not touch anything?”  

“Annnndddd… Riley just killed the mood with her horrible jokes.”  Jaiden shook his head.

Liam burst out laughing shaking his head at her.  

“Maybe she didn’t… Maybe just maybe he likes that about her.”  He watched the pair.  They were now closer than ever.

“I mean…. It’s where my mind went. Be honest. You’re really from far away aren’t you?”

“That’s it Riley… believe in him…”

“I crossed an ocean to get here. To meet you.”

Riley’s breath hitched.  

There was a beep.

“That must be Sal!”  

The small boat pulled up next to them.  

“Your chariot awaits My fair Riley… plus one.”  

“Why thank you kind Sir Sal!!!”  Riley did a curtsy that surprised Liam.  It was definitely court approved. If he could get her to Cordonia, her transition might go easier than planned.  

Liam hopped down onto the boat first.

He held out his arms to Riley.  

“Jump, I’ll catch you.”  

Jaiden thought he would do just one more thing.   He’d seen that boy Tucker do it to another boy on the playground when Riley was little, that caused him to completely topple over. Just as Riley jumped, Jaiden kicked the back of Liam’s left leg causing his knee to buckle.   He caught Riley but fell on his back, Riley falling on him.

Sal laughed.  “Damn kid.  You’re clumsy. You’re supposed to catch her.  But I guess it worked out for you.”

“We have to stop meeting like this Liam.”  She whispered as she looked down at him from her straddling position.  He gripped her hips.

“I don’t know… I think it’s not so bad.  Getting kind of used to breaking your falls. I think you’re the clumsy one, Riley Brooks.”  

“He’s not wrong Riley. You are clumsy.”  Jaiden smiled.  

She stood helping him up.  

He zipped her jacket.  “I want you to stay warm.”

“So what brought you here to New York?”

“A bachelor party.”  

“Who’s? Don’t tell me that guy Tariq is actually getting married?”

“No actually, for me.”  

“Whoa, so you’ve been playing me this whole time?”  Riley backed away from him.  “I trusted you.”  

“I am getting married… I just don’t know who yet.”  

“How does that happen?”  

“It happens when you’re the crown prince of a country.”

“You’re a crown prince.”  

“Why are you not surprised?”

“I told you, you seemed different from them.”  

“I am different from them.”    

"Of Cordonia?"

"Yes, how did you know that?"

"Your credit card. I have never seen a gold credit card like that before. I always remember the unique ones."

"Good memory."

Liam glanced up. "There she is."

He rushed to the front of the boat.

Liam was in awe.

"She's beautiful."

"Why was the Statue of Liberty on your list of things to see?"

"Because she is a beacon of light for Freedom."

"You said you're a Prince, you can't get freer than that. You can do a royal decree and get whatever you want."

"And I am. Crown Prince, that means…"

"You are taking over the family business….

 I see what you did there now. Witty. Meaning… you'll be King someday."

"Despite popular belief, royalty is the last thing but free. We are the exact opposite.  We are bound by duty.  Every choice I make people are watching. Every move I make must be calculated and thought about carefully.  Not only for myself but my family, my country, and my people.  Riley, when you get married someday, what’s the reason you think you will choose to do so?”  

“For love. Why else?”  

“In my life Riley,  It’s not that simple.  People marry for alliances, for duty, love is very rarely on the list. You learn to love who you’re with. That’s my reality.”

“Then why did you come here?”  

“For more.”  

 She chuckled.  “You know that’s kind of like a movie right?”

Liam looked confused.  

“Coming to America?”

No recognition registered on Liam’s face.  Riley gasped.

“What are you doing after this?”

“Going back to the hotel, going to sleep, why? What do you have planned for me?”

“Come to my place.  And don’t get any ideas, I’m not gonna ride your royal scepter tonight.”

Liam coughed, and laughed at the same time. “Excuse me, my what?”

She glanced at his crotch and back up into his face.  “Don’t play dumb Liam.”

“What I’m hearing you say, is not tonight but sometime soon?”  He inquired, winking at her.

She laughed.   “Do you want to come to my place to watch a movie with me?”

“I’d love to.”

The boat pulled to a stop, idling in the water.  

“This is as close as I can get you two without all of us going to jail tonight. I’ll give you two some privacy.  She’s like a granddaughter to me Liam.”

“Yes sir! I will be on my best behavior."    

Liam slipped his arms around Riley from behind pulling her close to him.  Immediately she felt warmer.  

“I know what you said, about how your life is supposed to go.”  She turned in his arms so she was facing him.

“I’ve never felt this free in my life before Riley, as I have tonight spending this evening with you. I feel like I could be a different person. Thank you.”  

“I really believe you can be different Liam, if you are willing to fight for it.”

“Why do you believe in me like that?”    

“There’s a sparkle in your eyes.  I saw it when I ran into you on the street.”

“Ahhhh so she admits it now, it WAS your fault.”  

“No that is not at all what I said Your … Lord… Ship… Wreck…. Rrrrrrr mateys.. Batten down the hatches.  Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum…. Scallywag… Walk the plank.”

“Okay now you’re just saying random pirate phrases.”

Jaiden smiled.  “He’s already head over heels for her.  You deserve this little sister.  All the hurt was for this, for him.”

Liam had never laughed so much  as he did with Riley.

“So what’s the right term then?”

“To call me?  Or are we going out to the seven seas to pillage and plunder? Avast Ye Hearties!!!!!”

Riley laughed, hitting his chest.

“If you wanted to address me with my proper title, it’s Your Highness.”

“So official.”  

“But that’s not how I want you to see me Riley.”

“You’re ‘Just Liam.’ I get it.  You came here wanting what I take for granted everyday.”

He nodded, resting his forehead on hers.  

“We have to get back.”  

“Thanks Sal for bringing us out here.”  

“You’re very welcome.  I like this one Riley.  I never liked Von much.  Felt like you were settling with him.  You deserve the world.”

When they got back to the dock, Liam helped Riley off the boat.

They walked at a leisurely pace holding hands.  It was a peaceful silence between them.   “We have to cross here.”

Jaiden whispered in Liam’s ear.  “It’s safe to cross.”  

Riley had looked away for a moment to press the button on the crosswalk so the light would change.

Liam was starting to cross the street.

“Liam!!!” she screamed.  Grabbing his arm pulling him back.

“What the hell!?!?!?!”  She screamed at him again.  

“I thought it was safe to cross?”  

“NOOOOOO!!!  Look, we can’t cross until the light changes.”

“I don’t know what happened.”  

“You scared me!!!! Are you alright?”  

“I’m fine.”  

“Just my luck I got a Crown Prince killed on his last night in the United States.  Talk about an international incident.  So what exactly is the jail sentence for that?”  

Liam laughed.  “Probably death.”  

“Greaaaaattt.”  

They were silent for a few moments waiting for the light to change.  

“I love that song.”

Can’t help falling in love, was playing on the radio of the person stopped at the light.  

“May I have this dance?”  Liam asked.  

Liam and Riley slow-danced in the middle of the sidewalk.  

“Last thing sis.”  

Jaiden whispered to the cab driver to turn up the music.  

People watched the pair as they danced.  Both completely enamored with the other.  

“I think you can handle it from here.”  Jaiden faded away.

When traffic started to move again, it broke the trance the song had over them.  

They waited for the light and crossed the street.  

He followed Riley into a small apartment building.  

She stood at the door.   “I have a roommate, so we need to be quiet coming in.” 

 Liam nodded, sticking close to her. She tried being quiet when she opened the door as it was well after 1am when they arrived.

“Well it’s about time your ass decided to show up,” Daniel said when she walked through the door.

“DANIEL!” She glanced at Liam standing right behind her.

“Oh shit, I was only kidding!!!!!!!” Daniel remarked when he realized she wasn’t alone, choking on his beer.  “Riley is not an ass,  it’s how we joke with each other when we're late coming home.”

“Liam this is Daniel, my roommate, and brother from another mother .”  

“Nice to meet you,” Liam chuckled. The look on Riley's face was priceless. She has the best absolutely mortified expressions.

“Daniel, this is  Liam, Bachelor number four.”

“Stop playing, the bachelor party table, this was the one that was late?”

“Liam, what you don't know is, I covered your table tonight because Daniel had somewhere to be."

"And how was it?" She directed her attention back to Daniel.

“Still going baby, just taking a breather.”

“Well if you will excuse us.”  She took Liam’s hand pulling him through the apartment.  

“Sorry it’s not much, but it’s ours.”

"No it's ok. You have a nice place."  It was small and clean, and they were very effective in using the space they had.  He was impressed.

She turned on the TV in her room.   “I’m gonna get comfortable.”  She took a few moments to change and shave her legs.

She put on a tank top and a pair of boy shorts. Liam stared at her body in awe.  Everything was covered, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

“You look like you’re in pajamas.  Am I staying the rest of the night?”

“You should, it’s late, and honestly this is not the best neighborhood.”

“Well I usually just sleep in boxers at home.  But I can keep this on.”

“Please make yourself comfortable.”    

She bit her lip, as he undressed in front of her. He could feel her eyes on him watching.  Then he climbed into bed with her.  They curled up on the bed together and turned on the movie.  He wrapped his arm around her.  She snuggled closer to him.

She was ready for whatever the rest of that night would bring.

Tagging:  @dcbbw​​     @bbrandy2002​​      @indiacater​​     @hopefulmoonobject​​     @queenjilian​​ @sillypapermango​​ @mom2000aggie​​       @gkittylove99​​     @gabesmommie1130​​       @zoehanji​​       @queenwalton​​      @kingliam2019​​        @jessiembruno​​      @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​​   @hopelessromanticmonie​​      @kimmiedoo5​​      @furiousherringoperatortoad​​      @jared2612​​      @sevenfuckslefttogive​​      @batgirlassociationofgothamcity​​       @marietrinmimi​​       @lovablegranny​​      @iaminlovewithtrr​​      @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful​​      @sanchita012​​      @yourmajesty09​​      @cordoniaqueensworld​​     @theroyalheirshadowhunter​​ @gibbles82​​      @amandablink​​      @secretaryunpaid​​     @axwalker​​      @burnsoslow​​      @sweatyrysconnoisseur​​      @royalromancer​​    @neotericthemis​​      @nala-raines​​     @kingliamandriley​​      @sfb123​​      @twinkleallnight​​      @kat-tia801​​

[appleinducedsleep]

In the town of Wall, on the border between the 'real' world and the magical Faerie, there lives young Tristran Thorn, who makes a rash promise to retrieve a fallen star for the woman he loves. Soon he finds himself on a quest, and unwittingly enters into a dangerous competition. 

@readerbookclub

⭐️⭐️/5

A fairytale ‘for adults’, that didn’t exactly mix the darker themes with the unnuanced characters.

Here be spoilers:

General Questions:

What were your expectations before reading the book? Did it meet them?

I expected a mash-up of the fairytale genre, and it delivered in that regard. I also heard it was a fairytale for adults, and that was true in some ways... though it had the charm of simplistic storytelling (despite the language being rich and descriptive) and simple dialogue, the gratuitous violence and some sexual content (which was there why?) did not stop the story from being somewhat superficial, and the characters Tristran from being flat.

How did you feel about the romantic relationships in this book? Did you find them well-written?

For the most part, no. I didn’t think they were very romantic at all. And yes, fairytales are generally more about tell, not show -- we were told fairy-tale style that Dunstan and Lady Uma had this ‘heart desire’ thing going on, Tristran was pining after Victoria and went on his misguided quest for love, and the most fleshed out thing was between Tristran and Yvaine (and that felt really rushed at the market). I found Dunstan much more interesting than his son, and there seemed more depth to his story, I cared more for him and Daisy Hempstock. Their love story was the only one that was believable.

I have also seen Stardust mentioned as an enemies to lover story, but I don’t think Tristran and Yvaine have that dynamic. Yvaine was described as having a temper, even in the epilogue, though she forgave both Tristran and the Witch. And Tristran seemed almost oblivious to the way she hated him, or at least not bothered enough, not to make her return with him to Wall. And while Yvaine never got tired of giving him snarky replies (bless her), I didn’t think their relationship was that romantic. Tristran even was a dormouse for some part of their journey. @adhyayana-v​  send me an ask about Tristran and I replied:

the story structure was more about getting from A to B, and less about actual character development.

At what point in the book (if any) did you start to feel immersed in the story?  Their are several side plots that accompany the main story of Tristan Thorn. What did you think of them? Does any one in particular stand out to you?  Throughout Tristan’s journey, he comes across many odd and colourful characters. Which of these did you like the most and why?

Much of the dialogue was simplistic in nature, which was at odds with the darker themes happening in the background. Tristran, our hero character, had a childish entitlement throughout the book, but he is framed as sympathetic, because he showed kindness to the creatures of Faerie.

Despite all of that, I was immersed. I love fairytales, I really liked the writing style, because it was pretty. I already shared the bit about Charles Vess, who made some wonderful illustrations:

Stardust was originally conceived by Gaiman and Vess as a "story book with pictures"

and I liked the part that Tristran and the little, hairy man got stuck in the serewood, I loved the plot-line about the power of nursery rhymes (the Unicorn and the Lion), and travelling by candlelight, and I absolutely loved Dishwater Sal. I loved this whole subplot from start to finish; from her first introduction at the market with Dunstan, to her meeting with the Witch queen, and turning Tristran into a mouse. She was consistent, she was mean, she would totally cheat you if she could-- I loved her. She was my favourite character.

Despite liking the writing style, I got tired of the random sounds the ghost brothers made; I didn’t care about the sounds of leaves, or gurgling brooks or whatever. To be honest, I just didn’t care much about this subplot anyway, and was reminded of A Heart So Fierce and Broken and how I didn’t like this whole ‘kill to have the right to rule’... but that’s more of a personal thing.

If you had to describe this book in three words, what would they be?

Atmospheric, predictable, (yet) engaging.

Is this a book you would have otherwise read? If not, are you more open to similar books in the future?  Would you consider re-reading it in the future?

I never outgrew fairytales, and I’m always curious to what a retelling will bring to the table. And while I did love certain things about it, I didn’t really love the characters, and the ending left me even more disillusioned.

I have seen several reviews claiming that the movie was better than than than the book, so I would watch the movie before rereading this book.