#only fond memories of lit and performance

[monmouthcastle]

Watching the cast sing "For Good" put the nail in my coffin honestly

[galeorderbride]

Forgiving the Flame for a Burn - Zevlor x F!Tav Fic Request

An angst/comfort/smut piece for @evocationwriter. Thank you so much for asking me to do this piece, I adore you! Xx

This is SMUT (tags/details below)

18+ MDNI

Summary:

One year after the defeat of the Elder Brain, Tav is trying to settle into daily life. But being a hero means the making of enemies, and Tav ends up on the wrong side of the city, with the wrong kinds of people.

That is, until a charming, former Hellrider steps in, saving her from the worst and taking her into his home for the night.

Tags: angst, comfort, smut. Unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), light orgasm denial, tail play, tiefling anatomy (infernal ridges, forked tongue), religious language used; some detailed depictions of a violent attack (beating to be specific)

Word count: 5k

Zevlor x F!Tav

No one talks about the end of a hero’s journey. Tav found herself thinking of that often, ever since the Elder Brain fell by the hand of her and her companions. Subjects of bard’s songs and children’s puppet performances, all of them bending to the whim of ‘thank yous’ and questions about adventures. All of them fading over time into nothing. People moved on, they had to, of course. Rebuilding homes, restarting businesses, schools and cleaning up parks. Life went on, and the looks of admiration as she’d wander the streets dissolved.

Needless to say, that wasn’t all bad. Walking around the city gave her a sense of anonymity she’d missed in the year since the brain’s defeat. While she had fond memories of children asking for autographs and telling tales at the Elfsong to curious attendees, the harassment and threats from those who felt nostalgia for the cult of the Absolute soured the experience. Every time she’d think about it, memories of Stone Lord exiles and concealed Banites taunting her with torture fled to mind.

Now, she could relax. Bask in the beauty of city living with no one to bother her (other than letters from her companions and comrades, which always excited her). Evening slowly began to fall, a wondrous sunset disembarking for the night as shopkeepers lit sconces outside their doors and brought in their signs. Fishmongers and tradesmen met in the streets to coalesce at either the Blushing Mermaid or the Elfsong. Parents corralled their children to follow them home after a day at the markets. Tav walked among them, smiling at the peace of normality she’d never forget again.

On nights like this one, Tav would look up above the Elfsong and see Alfira strumming her lute on the balcony. By now, she’d been giving lessons to children at her very own music studio for the last three or four months. Even then, she’d still go up to that rooftop and sing her heart out. Tav felt remorse every time she gazed upon the dazzling tiefling, guilt in her heart that, rather than enjoy the music, her soul yearned for the presence of a different tiefling entirely.

A year since she saw Zevlor at the final battle. A year since she’d discovered he survived. A year—and not a single letter. Everyone else reached out to her but him. In the weeks following, she wracked her brain for anything she might’ve said wrong. Any word that could be taken as an insult. Only he knew, and that would be just so forever.

She ignored the chest aches now, and the tingling in her abdomen that sometimes made her knees shake. Hoping one day they’d fade away like her fame. One outlived the other.

Was he even in Baldur’s Gate anymore?

Clearing her throat, she kept walking. Straightening her shoulders. New bottles of dye clinked against each other in her basket, held close to her stomach. In her daydream, the clock tower struck nine, startling her as she realized she’d been standing there for too long.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, forced to face her newfound fear of walking alone outside ever since anonymous former cultists began to harass her. She chastised herself for going today, irritated that she didn’t just wait until tomorrow morning.

Sticking to the main road, Tav hurried her step through the emptying streets. The end of a tenday, people looking for a rowdy night out were trickling into every space they could get drunk. Irrationality kicked in, everyone became an enemy, and no one had even noticed her yet. She repeated in her mind: Tav, get yourself together, you fought an elder brain. You can take anything a mere civilian can hit you with. Just walk.

Halfway home, things were normal. Everyone ignored her, and she felt her shoulders begin to calm as she neared her destination. The sky grew dark, only the light of the crescent moon peering behind the overcast lit her way. Little droplets of rain began to dot her face, she lifted her cape hood for shelter. Right as heavy footsteps trailed behind. The jungle of buckled boots and a person at least twice her size, she could discern that without even looking.

“The hero of Baldur’s Gate! Walking about these parts alone at night. Guess you don’t need brains to be a saviour, huh?” The voice behind her said. A man with a gravelly voice, slurred with drunkenness and malice.

Tav tried to ignore him, swallowing her fear as she kept walking at a brisk stride. One or two minutes and she’d be home. Counting the seconds, in tandem with the footsteps continuing to pursue her. Now in a quiet street, no one was around to help or witness whatever the man behind her had planned.

“Don’t run off so quick, sweet one! Sing me one of those ballads made about you! Bet it’ll sound sweet gurgling out of your throat when I cut it!” He chided, a growl so feral within him she could mistake him for a wild animal.

Another voice poked through an alleyway she passed, another men bumping her with his shoulder, rough enough to send her steps back against a wall. He said, “Father will love this at his temple doorstep, brother.”

Bhaalists. She should’ve known the ones to keep pestering her after all this time would be them. Likely a worse nightmare than anyone else, given their propensity for insane, maniacal violence. Were they even drunk? Or was that a farce to blend in with the city?

“Leave me be! I’ve killed more than you for less,” she said, sucking in her frightened breath.

Both of them cornered her, trudging towards her and beginning to push her around between the two. Smaller than both of them, she struggled to fight back as her basket of dyes shattered to the ground. Catching them off guard just quick enough for her to throw a punch in the face of one. He fell back, grunting in pain as the other smacked Tav against the brick wall. A sharp ache ran across her spine, the wind knocked out of her to completion when the one she punched slammed his fist into her stomach.

Gasping for breath, they let her collapse to the ground. Holding her abdomen tight, the roof of her mouth dryer than sand. Catching impossible air as the two paced around her, predators toying with their prey. That hit to her stomach so hard that she couldn’t find the strength to get up let alone fight back. Gods, was she really done in so quickly? Had she softened so much in just a year?

Most of the time, they were four at least. Now, she was one. And defeated in a matter of minutes. Dye stained her clothing as she twitched around the ground, feeling a harsh sting of hands clawing at her hair, pulling her back.

“Not so heroic now, are you?” The one that held her hair teased, giggles oozing with evil.

“Enough dawdling,” said the other, sheathing out a sharp, shining knife. “Tie her up to take her to the temple.”

Right when they began to tie the rope around her, a swing of a longsword sliced across one’s throat. Tav didn’t see all of it, still reeling from the punch. But the second one began to fight against her rescuer. Behind her writhing body, the sound of punching, stabbing and armour sliding against leather permeated the air.

And then nothing. Quiet air mixing with laboured breath, a few growling sighs to follow. Ones she recognized after a few seconds. A calming but assertive tone that used to excite her beyond belief.

“Z—,” she tried to say his name, but coughed instead. Recovering from the punch to the gut, breathless all the same.

Warm arms wrapped around her, lifted into an embrace healing her in seconds. Heat coursing within each injured vein, the tender flesh of a tiefling’s hold. Her head hung back against his arm, aching stomach muscles jolting. But the rest of her soul eased with the shelter of safety, letting him take her wherever he deemed right.

It could’ve been minutes. Or hours. Awakening in a soft bed covered in thick furs and clean sheets. Glowing candlelight against stone walls and the blurry flame of a burning fireplace. Sparks flew across the mantle as a broad shouldered, tailed man threw another log in. Trickling liquid poured from a clay pot, steaming scents of green tea and lemon soothing her into full awareness. No more pain, other than a small ache in her abdomen. For a second, she wondered if she’d died.

Tav shifted on the mattress, wincing from her sore muscles. At the corner of her eye were her dye-soaked clothes, hanging to dry after being washed. Bare arms and legs slid around the linen fabric of her ivory slip. Hair swept back from her face in a loose, well done braid.

“Am I dead?” She whispered, groaning out remnants of her voice as if she’d forgotten she had one.

The man turned from the fireplace, rushing to the bedside. Seating himself on the stool directly next to her, she could clearly make out the weathered, handsome features of Zevlor. Pouring tea like an old friend, not someone who’d been silent for a year.

“Not dead, Tav. You can’t imagine how glad I am that you’re awake. After those mongrels attacked you…I feared the worst,” he said, handing her the small cup as she sat up. Zevlor outstretched his hand as she winced, but pulled back before he could touch her.

Her eyes closed with the peace of green tea on the tongue. Pushing away the thoughts of the attack, burdened by yet another memory of pain. She chose another route, “You saved me. I don’t know how you found me but thank you, I owe you for such a gesture.”

With a cordial nod of a soldier, he said, “Think nothing of it. I—well, it’s a long story but I’ve made a living through private security. I was coming home from a job when I saw you in the street. Found you just in time before you slipped into that alleyway.”

She cupped the mug in her hands, resting on her cross-legged lap. A skipped beat of her heart went aflutter when she caught Zevlor’s eyes linger over her bare legs, and back to her face in a split second.

“I didn’t even know you were in the city,” she said, “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

Zevlor shifted, eyes darting away from her to every other corner of the room. The place was small, fit for a single man who didn’t want for much. Exactly him, melding in with the space as he paced around with his arms crossed. Keeping his distance as he always did even when they had fought together, even after the celebration…

“Certainly, I owe you an apology for that. There is still much agony in going into it but—I was in a bad way after the final battle. An injury of the mind, if you will. Times were hard, too hard to reach out to you with any confidence,” he explained.

“I expected no less, after all that happened. Only that, well I thought we’d become close. That maybe you’d find some peace through my support. But,” she trailed off as her hands shook, shock of what happened to her still dominant over her, “seems you supported me.”

Her feet hit the cold floor, trying to stand up while wobbling about. Just as her hips moved off the mattress, she stumbled downward. Zevlor strode over, hooking his arms around her, lifting her back onto the bed. In her panic, she clutched him without mercy. Holding him so close to her that he fell forward, knees landing on the bed as she lay under him. Hovering over her, he saw the quick rise and fall of her chest, struggling to properly exhale. Bringing him back to their moment alone at the Grove celebration, when he comforted her, held her as she wrestled with the fear she had to hide for her companion’s sakes. Here he was again, taking one, brave move to slide the strap of her slip back onto her shoulder.

“Zevlor…please don’t leave,” she said as she felt him move away, feeling his heart shred at the discomfort of being so close. No matter how much he craved it. Craved her.

He sighed, “You’re terrified, shocked from what happened. I don’t want to get in your way and make things worse.”

As he pulled away, she stabilized her tremored hand by grasping his wrist, “You haven’t made things worse. Remember when you sat with me at the party? When I confessed to you how afraid I was of everything? You helped me so much back then, how could now be any different?”

Zevlor faced away, staring into the firelight as Tav waited. He could not retreat from the visions of their last meeting. How she cried to him, and told him she felt safe in the comfort of his arms. Sitting in a grassy, humid corner away from the rest of the guests. Sheltered by fern leaves and flowers, he let her talk and talk about all that troubled her. Felt so touched by her vulnerability that he shared his own worries too. Two of them, absorbed in isolating fear and finding each other in the dark. Hands wandering around with each kind word, and then the arousing jolt of remembering her naked flesh against his. Tail wrapped around her ankle while they made love under the plant covered moonlight. So beautiful under him, sensations he never thought he’d experience again.

He thought of making her his again so many times after. But in between then and now, he kept failing. Falling into disorder and defeat. People dying for his mistakes. Who would want someone like that? A man so past his prime he verged on cowardice, next to the hero of Baldur’s Gate. How could that ever make sense?

“Both of us were vulnerable at that time. You’re recovering from an attack, and…well, I know you appreciate honesty. My body is so excited from the fight, and from seeing you again, that if I get close enough I might take you here and now. Even though I’d come to regret being so forceful,” he explained.

Hot shame filled every corner of his face just for saying it. Avoiding her gaze even as she took deep breaths, standing from the bed again. This time, with success. Still slow, but steady in each step closer to Zevlor by the fireplace.

“You were always so hesitant about what you wanted,” Tav said, close behind him. The glow of the fire warmed one side of her exposed arms, fingers tickling against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Brushing the tip of her nose against his spine, taking in the scent of brimstone and pine. Her strength regained with each graze of her palm against him, light and teasing.

“I venture to deserve the things I want first,” he said, head down towards the flame. Closing his eyes to the feeling of Tav’s hand sliding from the back of his arm to the top of his hand. Rested on the mantle as she gave a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” She asked, taking the strap he once adjusted in place and pulling it down again. “You saved my life today. And I missed you terribly, Zevlor.”

Hand in hand, she turned him to face her. Tall and soldierly in front of her, head craning up to face him in all his glory. Fire crackled before them, leading her hand guiding his to her waist. His nails craved to dig into her skin, pull her close and never let go. She tiptoed into his embrace, other arm around her back, forming a gentle, passionate hug. Feeling her skin against his again, he was happy to die that moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight? It was not my intention when I took you in to do this,” he said, wondering if she heard a word he said. She pushed their faces closer, lips hovering around each other. Temptation already too difficult bear as his mouth opened to bite into her supple flesh, but stopped short. “I won’t be able to control myself if you allow me this.”

Tav’s cool breath danced along his tongue, a full body desire to sob over how much she wanted him. To do what they did last time and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“You make me feel safe, Zevlor. I’ve been on my guard ever since we parted. Do you know how wonderful it feels to just…relax? Please, I want you near me. Inside me all night. Just like at the Grove. Hold me, Zevlor,” Tav said, her voice a crescendo of emotion from whisper to yelp.

Words weren’t enough, he had to be shown. Tav ruminated that very idea ever since they last parted. How a commander of a group like the Hellriders could end up so unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t always like that, but he was now. And she wasn’t inclined to change a thing. She laced her fingers under the straps of her slip, letting the fabric slowly waterfall off her body. In the wake of her naked form before him, she swore she could hear his beating heart. Rapid and fiery like the burning glimmer of the room.

“Can you promise me one thing?” He asked, hands pressed against her cheeks, lifting her eyes up to him. Round and ablaze with desire, warm and cool at the same time.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Do not leave in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll never leave if that’s what you require.”

It was a kiss like never before. A whirlwind heart attack imploding between the two of them. Zevlor’s soul rose out of his body, taken over by the beckoning ache of her open mouth, welcoming his forked tongue. Tav melted into him, relishing in the hot pleasure of pressing her bare body against his clothed one. She clawed at his belt, longing for the image of his warrior frame above her. Scarred and toned by years of combat. Tail swivelling back and forth, a supplicant tying around her supple thigh.

Their voices hummed into each other, a hymn of blossoming want. Walking in tandem to the bed as Zevlor climbed over her, shuddering at the pleasure of pushing between her legs. He sat up on his knees, stretching his flexed back muscles as he pulled off his cotton shirt. A tingling sensation spread between Tav’s legs, cool air biting at her wet, sensitive core. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands across his torso, savouring every scar and mark, repeating her movements when he’d moan. His belt jingled below, unclasped as the imprint of a large erection outlined his pants. He was an impressive man…everywhere.

“Pull them down slowly, I want to see,” Tav ordered, voice dark and wistful with lust.

“At your command, my beautiful goddess,” he said, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. Taking slow, painful time in pulling down his trousers. Tav bit her lip, the excitement almost too much. A little tuft of pubic hair opened the door to a long, thick shaft, bouncing against Zevlor’s stomach when it finally broke free. Her mouth watered, licking up the collection of desperate saliva at the top corner of her lip.

Her heart fluttered, body hot and assured unlike before. That was the spell Zevlor had her under since they’d met. Empowering her just from being close, reminding her of the strength she still had. Not a thing of the past, but something to be embraced. And now, she had a chance to stay with him for more than a night. Protect each other, and revel in their primal need to be attached.

Discarding his pants with the rest of his clothes, Zevlor lowered, kissing between her bare breasts and down to her stomach. Heartfelt, exciting tickles made her giggle with a flirtatious ring. Shivering at the scratches his nails left in their stead. Relaxing every nerve within as she lay in his embrace, letting him take the lead. She hoped he’d always give her a chance to let go this way, think about nothing other than the pleasure he’d cover her in.

Between peppered kisses and flicks of his tongue along her stomach, he whispered, “You’re mine, I’ve wanted you to be since the moment I saw you. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. Come here.”

With untold force, Zevlor swung Tav’s legs onto his shoulders, capturing her cunt in his mouth. Jolts of ecstasy wet and savoured with each slide of his tongue across her clit. Sucking, licking, moaning into her without any attempt to catch his breath. Driven each time he tasted more of her essence. Unbridled to the point where she had to hold his horns to keep balance. The temperature of his hellfire skin stimulated her even more, muscles tightening with every weakened, whimpering moan that escaped her. Assertive, but slow, gentle even as he became primal against her. Letting the rhythm take her exactly where she needed to be.

Tav’s moans fluttered like butterflies, one hand clutching his horn and the other falling over her eyes, focusing on the chase of that wonderful high. Vampiric biting down of her lip, containing her innate need to be even louder. There would be time for that. Tonight, she wanted to sink into him, fall into a calming, warm pool of passionate affection. Enjoy the sensation of his body becoming a vessel for her pleasure, moving his tongue in just the way she liked.

Between tiny gasps, Tav said, “Zevlor…you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop…please.”

He didn’t reply, too focused on slurping up every trickle of sex that dripped out of her. He simply moaned, muffled by the soft grind of her pussy against his face. Building up to a climax that bloomed throughout her body, arching her back as she rode out an orgasm she had no idea she craved so deeply until it happened. He’d refuse to let her stop a second early, continuing to circle his tongue around her clit until she shook with sensitivity.

She melted into the bed, a thin veneer of sweat combining with the dripping warmth between her legs as Zevlor took his mouth off. Positively beautiful over her, muscular back bent in a perfect curve when he began to suckle and kiss around her neck and collarbone. Travelling downward in a desperate need to cover every inch. Landing with satisfaction on her nipples, laughing for the first time in years, lost in the joy of her.

Zevlor stopped for a moment, lifting his head to face her below him. Tranquil and drunk with sinful pleasure, cheeks filled with rosy blush and eyes glazed over. Arms splayed out like the wings of a celestial Aasimar. He loathed the past, for so many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t there with him. In her infinite beauty, a plush and wanton solace before him. How did he ever stomach being away from her since they’d met?

“I’m sorry for leaving you after that night. Forgive me?” He asked.

Tav laughed, spellbound to the point of forgetting she was ever upset. As if he’d never left. She said, “You may need to convince me a little more, hellrider.”

Something switched off within him, a zealous need to have her succumb to him. Forgive him for his misgivings. Praying to a new goddess and asking for redemption. Offering himself to her by inching his cock deep inside her, feeling the pull of her soft walls lock him in. Driven to eternal admiration from the sound of her shocked, euphoric moan, submitting to the stretch of him. An addictive sting, exposed to every synapse erupting within her sensitive, yearning cunt. She bit her bottom lip with a smile, shivering at the comforting wrap of his tail around her waist to keep her in place. No escaping the loving, dominant thrust of his hips deep into her.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Forgive me. Forgive me!” A passionate, hard thrust into her pussy each time he said it.

The might of him rendered her eyes at the back of her head, nearly unable to reply as he begged for her forgiveness. Her slick smacking against his pubic bone, gushing onto his cock in a lustful mess of an orgasm begging to come back. Tav snaked her arms across Zevlor’s shoulders for dear life, brought to the edge with his heavy grunts in her ear. She tightened around him, rocking back and forth on the bed, closer and closer to release.

He felt the contracting of her around him, unfulfilled by her silence on forgiveness. Just as she was about to finish, he pulled out of her, smacking the tip of his cock against her clit repeatedly. Listening to her whine and whimper, threatening tears. Then, before she knew it, he thrusted back in, hard and unmerciful. Pulling out again, repeating that pattern.

“Have I earned your forgiveness? Or shall I deny you until you use your words all night? Tell me, am I absolved, goddess?” He growled, voice husky and feral, the militant part of him revealing just enough of itself to command her to his whim.

By the fourth thrust and pull, she wailed, “Yes, gods above, I forgive you! There’s nothing to forgive, just make love to me!”

He pushed inside her fully, smashing his lips against hers at the same time. Holding her hips in line to use his infernal ridges as friction against her swollen clit. Locking his hand into hers, supported above her head while he thrusted and thrusted with reckless abandon. Both of them grunting in tandem, overcome with delayed pleasure. Tav found her footing quickly, edged so deliciously that her orgasm ripped through her with little effort, squeezing onto his cock. Her nails dug into his knuckles, mouth hanging open in awe over the intensity of her second climax.

Pulling from the kiss, he struggled against his own release. Mourning for the eventual time when he’d have to leave her cunt. Comfortable, warm and wet, a shelter from all harm. He couldn’t stand it yet, and used his tail around her waist to flip her onto her side, like fresh sand in the palm of his hand.

“Let me lie next to you,” he said, moving his body in a spoon position, chest pressed against her back, “I want to cum with you in my arms.”

Tav mustered a whisper thin ‘please’ under her breath, running her hands through his hair as he snuggled in behind her. The curve of her spine angled just right for him to sheathe himself inside her once more. Pumping slowly this time, arms and tail curled across her body like ivy against an ancient wall. Kissing the side of her neck, an endless waterfall of tenderness mixed with the possessive thrust of his cock. She was completely enveloped, safe and sound in his embrace, floating in the paradise he gave her.

“You’re with me, now. Right here, safe. Does that feel good? Am I pleasing you, goddess? Might I cum inside you?” He whispered in her ear, low and gruff. Intense bravado oozing from every part.

She was awash with sensual energy, captivated by him just like the first time. Although that was much quieter, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she felt as if they were sharing a home. In the privacy of their own dwelling, even if that was a fantasy.

“Oh, yes, you are perfect. I want your everything, Zevlor. Please, give me everything,” she replied, taking care to run her tongue up and down his bottom lip before she pushed them into a wet, feverish kiss. Flicking her tongue against his teeth, relishing in the sharp edge.

Their mouths were open to each other when he felt the stirrings of his climax. Languishing movements lost rhythm as he climbed ever forward into that much desired sensation. Possessed by the supple flesh of her lips and everything else. Hips, breasts, stomach, ass, everything. Falling into her deep, insane at the ache of his cock inside her. He breathed out a hard, rapturous moan before he let himself spill, soaking her cunt with the cum that twitched out of him. Dribbling out of the side as she lay before him with a wide, calm smile. Their muscles relaxed together, fusing into the bed.

Tav shivered, the slide of his cock pulling out sending a shock in her spine. Imbued with comfort immediately as Zevlor pulled a thin sheet over her. Tucking her into the blankets and the warm hold of him. Snuggling tight into her, yearning to find a way to fuse his body with hers. Kissing the top of her head, lingering to take in her scent.

“You did not smell of rosemary when we last saw each other,” he said, “That’s always been a favourite of mine. Rosemary.”

Tav grinned, turning to face him. A much needed distraction to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting for the night. To see him once more, maybe twice. Absorb all she missed in the year past. His handsome, aged face glowing under firelight. Sandy hair, messy and dotted with sweat. Strong hands stuck tight to her hips. All she imagined came to life.

Zevlor held her hand, kissing each knuckle, down to the bottom of her palm. A touch so ethereal, he could have been giving healing magic. Rescuing her both outside and in, cleansing her soul of all evil and wrongdoing endured before.

“We’ll replenish your lost supplies tomorrow,” he said, her hand close to his face, “If you’ll allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled, containing its ever widening stretch. “Well, we do have a great deal to catch up on.”

[gazetto-no-ki]

2024.12.14 Ruki on IG:

Hoodies are an essential item for me since I wear them all the time, so I created one again.

This piece went through a lot of effort: it was dyed with a distressed finish, bleached, and then printed on top. Each one has slight variations in the dyeing, which makes them all the more special and easy to grow attached to.

The staff at the production company insisted that gray would also turn out amazing, so I gave it a shot—and they were totally right. I’m so glad I made it ⚡️

That’s why I created this hoodie in two colors. Working with the staff and enjoying the process together was another great memory.

#nilduenilun_tokyo #nilduenilun #act11 #ruki

Knit Sweater This is another new item.

I took the design from the one and only original guitar I own and translated it directly into this knit sweater. It took quite a bit of effort to create that pattern on the guitar, and getting the same texture with this knit material was just as challenging. Haha.

One of the highlights is its comfort: no shedding and no itchiness 🎸

#nilduenilun_tokyo #nilduenilun #act11 #ruki

New black shirt.

For the shoot, I dyed my hair black as well to make the contrast with the white stand out sharply. Going all black every once in a while feels great.

What stood out to me during the shoot was how much the model loved this black shirt—she even took her own photos of it.

I think it suits both men and women, so please give it a try.

#nilduenilun_tokyo #nilduenilun #act11 #ruki

New item🕯️ This is a candle I’ve been wanting to create for a long time.

There’s a story from last winter: after Koron passed away, I lit a candle at home every single day until it burned down completely. Afterward, I repurposed the empty jar as a vase for preserved flowers and ultimately offered it to Koron.

That candle brought me so much comfort, and it reminded me how scents can leave a lasting impression.

I’ve always loved candles, but I’m glad I waited until now to create one instead of doing it back then.

I named this candle LAST HEAVEN, the same name as the first perfume I made.

This is NIL’s very first candle.

It smells amazing, so I hope it can bring peace and comfort to everyone.

#nilduenilun_tokyo #nilduenilun #ruki #lastheaven

NIL New Item (shirt) This was the first item I started designing for this collection: an embroidered shirt.

Back in the day, I often wore my own shirts during encores, so I thought about what kind of shirt I would wear now and created this piece.

The white shirt idea came from last year’s Christmas live performance, where I wore a white suit. I realized white could look surprisingly good, so I decided to make this shirt in both white and black.

I’m particularly fond of the black floral embroidery.

This time, I also had a lot of photos of myself taken for the first time, so it became a great memory. I’ve shared a bunch of them, so I hope you’ll enjoy them 📸

I worked hard again this year to create these pieces, so I hope you’ll give them a try!🔥

#nilduenilun_tokyo #nilduenilun #ruki

On Twitter:

“Good job today, everyone 🙏🔥 I spent my day being totally at the mercy of Instagram’s scheduled posts. Haha.”

"And so, this year as well, I was able to announce new items from NIL.

This will be a long one, but I want to leave my thoughts here.

When I didn’t want to listen to music anymore, when I couldn’t create anything, when everything went blank—it was only then that I truly realized how precious it is to have an environment where I can create something.

Slowly but surely, the feeling of wanting to cherish what I’ve built over time began to overflow. With the help of many staff members in a rush, I was able to bring this 11th collection to life.

I poured myself into this project with the mindset that I want to give my all to what I can do and leave behind right now, because I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t.

Now that it’s all been uploaded, I feel once again that this is just one more step toward what comes next.

There were challenges in continuing to push forward and keep updating, but because I decided to create exactly what I love without holding back, I feel like I’ve also relearned the importance of enjoying the process, even amidst the difficulties.

I gave the collection the title "BREATH," with many meanings in mind, including the idea of taking a breath, when you sing.

I think I was able to shape something that I want to incorporate into my daily life.

And this year, which marks seven years since starting NIL, I decided to capture "My Current Self"—Ruki as I am now, with makeup for the first time.

I feel that preserving this moment in some tangible way holds meaning.

I don’t plan on doing this every time, but I’d be happy if people could see me as I am now. And I’m sure these items will suit you all as well, so if you pick them up, it would make me happy.

As always, I personally made everything, from the music to the editing of the promotional videos 🎧

These items are filled with so many thoughts and feelings. I hope you’ll enjoy them 🙏

Please check them out starting tomorrow at 6 PM 📸"

"I'll also post some behind-the-scenes shots so please look forward to them 🐦‍⬛🕊️📸

Good night."

[crackedpumpkin]

Cole with a girlfriend who has a passion for singing and dancing. She has a beautiful voice mixed with natural talent for dancing.

One day while they’re both slow dancing as a cute way of showing affection to one another, Cole’s father sees and gets emotional cause it reminds him of himself and Lilly when they were Cole and Y/n’s ages.

|| ꜱʟᴏᴡ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ᴛᴜɴᴇꜱ || ᴄᴏʟᴇ ʙʀᴏᴏᴋꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

Hello lovely! I hope you enjoy this, he's such an adorable bean :")

“Cole,” You laugh, setting down the dishes you were drying after he cracks an inside joke. You shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes and a chuckle, and he nudges you, clearly pleased with your reaction.

Soft tunes play from the speaker you had set up for your at-home dinner date. Much to your surprise, Cole had cooked and even lit up some candles around the dining table.

You and he had made small talk, and you were touched by how sweet he was being. You didn’t know he had such a romantic side, but you liked it.

He was always busy with patrol and saving Ninjago City, which meant many a time when he was off on missions, and helping civilians. Oh, and of course, saving the world. You promised yourself to not be too clingy, but it was hard when your dates were constantly interrupted.

Especially when he had to go save the world. You would wait every night at your window, a promise you had made to each other that he’d stop by your place first as soon as he returned.

The constant gnawing worry of whether or not he was safe haunted you every night he was gone, but Nya had relieved your concerns by providing a radio set to a specific channel just for the both of you.

He was sweet; he really was. But physical distance definitely played a part in the loneliness that fills your chest, particularly on cold nights when you longed for his presence.

So imagine your surprise when he texted you to come over in your comfiest clothes, and you enter his home only to be left breathless by the romantic atmosphere he had set up just for you.

Candles line the hallway, leading a rose-scattered path to the dining room, where the lights are turned down low. There your boyfriend sits, dressed in a collared shirt (ironed, no less). You gasp in delight at the dining table, your favourite food plated prettily opposite him.

You glance down at the jeans you’re wearing, feeling embarrassed that you had dressed down. He had said to wear something comfy, after all. You walk over, and he stands up from his seat, moving to give you a sweet kiss.

“Hey,” Cole breathes out, gentle hands on your waist.

“This is amazing, Cole. I feel underdressed, though,” You gesture to your clothes, insanely impressed by everything he had set up.

“I’m glad you like it,” He pulls out your chair for you to sit, “and for the record, you look just as beautiful as the day we met.”

You share a chuckle at the memory, fondness in his eyes as he recalls how he had accidentally stumbled into your rehearsal room. You weren’t very composed at the time, stuck in figuring out lyrics for your next song.

You had glanced up, defeat displayed all over your face before surprise flickered in your eyes, surprised by the sudden presence. Cole had then asked you what was wrong, and since you weren’t feeling the most motivated, you grumpily told him about your songwriting struggles.

He had stayed and brainstormed with you, even choreographing a short dance together with you. It was the most fun you had in a while, and thus exchanged numbers. He’d show up for all your gigs, and you, in turn, would be his rock, keeping him grounded and a safe space for him to confide.

You had since grown close, soft and tender smiles exchanged when you were performing on stage, be it a self-choreographed dance or singing your heart out.

And now, you’re in the kitchen with him after the romantic candlelit dinner, doing the dishes together. It’s usually a tedious chore, but it suddenly became the exact opposite with Cole around.

“Heads up,” Cole calls out before tossing a cluster of bubbles at you. You squeal in response, swatting it away and back at him.

“Cole!”

“Hey, I said heads up,” He shrugs with a cheeky grin. You lightly punch his shoulder with a playful glint in your eyes. You recognize the next song playing through the speakers, nudging Cole to get his attention.

He hums in response with a quirked brow, looking at you questioningly. “Remember this one?” You ask.

“Of course, it’s the one we danced to during our first date.” He grins, quickly rinsing his hands and drying them.

“Remember when I asked you for a dance?” He takes your hands in his, holding them up and placing a soft peck on the back of your hand. You smirk, fighting back the blush that threatens to coat your cheeks.

“Of course, though, I vaguely remember it being more of a waltz.” You point out.

“As if I’d forget,” He scoffs teasingly, pulling you close and resting his head on top of yours as he gently rocks your body side to side in a small sway. You nuzzle your face into his shirt, breathing him in and relishing the moment.

God, this cologne smells so good on him, you realize, humming along to the music. You can sense his smile as he hums along with you, enjoying your melodious voice.

He draws back briefly to twirl you out, and you oblige with a pleased smile.

“Zane was the one that made dinner,” He confesses as he moves to dip you. Your eyes shine with amusement, tilting your head.

“I know,” You admit with a smile, and his brows raise in surprise before pulling you back into his arms.

“Oh?” He murmurs, a tinge of curiosity in his words at how you had found out.

You nod, “I figured it out during dessert,” You tilt your head with a sweet smile gracing your lips, pressing a short kiss against the corner of his mouth.

You’re briefly interrupted when you hear someone else enter the kitchen, separating from Cole, suddenly shy. He grasps your hand before you let it fall to your side, holding it firmly in his.

“Hey, pop,” He greets his dad, who has a sheepish grin on his face.

“Hi Lou,” You say with an underlying tone of embarrassment, bashful at being seen with his son in such an intimate position.

“Hey, Y/n, sorry for interrupting you both. I just came out to get a cup of water, but I couldn’t help but be entranced by your voice! It’s absolutely lovely.” He praises you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you thank him.

“Good job, son.” He gestures to the candles with a smile, and you can feel Cole stiffen from beside you. You can practically feel him holding in an embarrassed groan.

“It reminds me of when I was your age, you know. When I first met Lilly,” Lou reminisces, leaning against the counter.

“Oh?” Cole’s interest is piqued, and so is yours.

“We often danced on the terrace, a place special to us. And to me even now. When she passed….” Lou looks back down, sadness clouding his eyes. He masks it with a smile, setting down his now empty cup and walking out of the kitchen.

“I hope you youngsters have fun! Don’t stay up too late,” He calls out as he exits, Cole draping his arm around you and pulling you close.

“You know, if it’s anything I’ve learned,” He watches his dad round the corner, the soft click of the door shutting, “it’s that I’m lucky to call you mine.”

You let out a small awww, reaching up and pressing your lips on his in a short but loving kiss. “And I’m lucky to have such an amazing boyfriend.” You confess with a goofy smile.

He resumes the slow waltz from earlier, the two of you dancing into the rest of the night in each other’s embrace.

[wintertimestoryteller]

Linked Universe x Reader Fairy Tale Collection

@luimagines It is finally here! XD Apologies for the huge delay, suddenly became a dog mom again and life has been difficult, apologies to all who waited. Hopefully it's at least half decent, this did not want to write itself at all X_X

Warning for dark themes of the fairy tale kind and violence. I recommend researching Penta by Basille if some of you are curious about the interrupted story, though I did leave a lot out for obvious reasons, the first story is actually a reference and I thought it would be fun to see how many catch it and who would notice the reversal of roles here. No Shadow Links were (seriously) harmed in the making of this chapter, just Reader and their poor mind who can't catch a break.

Technically this is the final act before the Masterlist for each Link, though there is technically a bonus act and an intermission I doubt anyone would be interested in that, y'all came here for the Links and the fairy tales not the lore and behind the scenes stuff done to get here because I decided to pull a Hans Christian Andersen even while trying to keep this as short as an opening act should technically be, might write them down if there's enough interest but for now I'm leaving it up to interpretation xP

Opening Act, Scene IIII

It's almost strange, how peaceful your first few days and nights in the theater were.

It was hardly unwelcome, of course it was a pleasant surprise. Even with it's darkened, solemn corners and the way the shadows played eerily across the walls, dancing and laughing mockingly as they put on a show only they knew, it hardly felt truly unsettling for long, maybe it was just your long time on the road which made you jaded to the concept of old buildings that felt like echoes of their former selves, ever lonely, ever grieving like a widow, knowing their lover would not return from the war but waiting for as long possible before considering taking poison. The building was much the same, threading the fragile, dreamlike barrier of a long, wistful forgotten dream and a feather soft, fondness warmed memory.

It felt just about on the edge of death, but not quite ready to cross the border, it felt alive, like watching a barren wasteland attempt to host life again, even if it wouldn't last long or ever recover.

You believe it's in large part due to it's residents.

It was impressive, really, though you're all clearly wary towards one another, the troupe was seemingly more delighted by the fact they had new people to tell new tales to than bothered by the fact the Chain was clearly high strung from a long journey with the carmine and jade weariness of hunters unable to continue searching for their quarry. Director Raven had given you all full permission to explore and was only ever truly strict with corralling the crew to perform, the obsidian speckled mist of their excitement reflected in the way their coat sleeves flapped while directing each member to their roles and how their steps practically glided across the floor and the stage, their feline companion ever present on their shoulders as they truly gave their name sake justice as they crowed and crooned new characters into Byron's ears, sparkling ruby glee as the bloody feather on their hair and gem collar at the gentleman's smile with the flame bright elation of a mad man as he worked on costumes, scenery and props like a man possessed occasionally hissing like an offended cat at Edgar, who was quick to bark and judge even the slightest imperfection as he marked cues for Anabella's scripts, the woman, once having heard of the Links musical prowess, having lit up like the chandelier serving as spotlight at the stage, gently having coaxed the boys towards Amelia, the petal soft smiling dark haired young woman you've met earlier whom Raven just couldn't help but squawk amusedly at Anabella having a very clear soft spot for, who wasted no time in convincing a few of the heroes to follow sheet music the young woman had written but never quite had enough people to help perform.

It was honestly amusing, seeing the young woman and Warriors practically team up to bully Legend into playing the violin again, the veteran protesting for a good while, until a small, well placed tease from Sky made him cave, you and Wind both pretending to hide bright laughs at seeing him pretend not to smile, the jewel bright sight of her delight making you feel warm as she suggested to the exccentric playwright to share your own stories with the troupe and the boys once again as the sweet notes of musical and Raven's narration rolled up and across the aisles, the ruby cheer of the chattering of their cheek with the sweet aquamarine of your gentleness making even the likes of ever serious steel serious Cal or solemn First smile.

The only incident any of you all had really was when you've met Priscilla properly, or to be more accurate, when Priscilla found you all, the youngest of the troupe popping from the ceiling like a bat in front of you from the theater's costume attic like a reverse phantom of the opera, giving you a small fright with her cat smug smile as she finished fixing the lights and eagerly jumped into Twilight's back the second she heard Epona being mentioned, asking all sorts of questions about horses and their proper care until Edgar came knocking to pry her off.

A few minor incidents were had, what with your boys' usual brand of chaos and only so much you, Time and First could do while Raven rounded up the brand of madness found in their own little troupe (like how Anabella, much like Hyrule, should not be allowed near any form of food supply lest they both commit crimes agaisnt nature and the last leg of Wild's morals and sanity, how Byron, Warriors and Legend could almost snarl at each other like feral dogs when it came to fashion sensibilities, or Priscilla attempting to coax Wind and Spirit onto the attic and catwalks with her to play pranks onto the unsuspecting audience and performers below just to see Four and Edgar twitch), but overall, the first three days of constant strong storms and two of the stories told passed quickly, like the heartbeat of a humming bird.

... Which made your own feelings for a certain hero grown ever more transparent like the polished crystal which made up the spotlight.

How could you not contemplate these feelings? How could you even begin denying something that has been sinking it's teeth into your soul for months now? Ever since the Chain found you, injured and with nowhere to go, it was always moving, ever forward, ever running, ever hunting, for if you all didn't hunt the shadow, it would stop at nothing to tear everything and everyone so much as grazed by the bright, ever burning diamond flame of the Hero's Spirit, with the burning fury of a maddened beast with nothing left to lose, with enough hunger it could render divinity to pieces. So, so so wrong to the very fabric that made up the curtain of Hyrule's stage it made one's flesh crawl before it even set it's bloody, hungry, vile gaze upon you.

(You didn't have a choice, when they'd left you behind, the portal simply opened to place you in harm's way again and again and again and again, you only survived through pure luck most of the time, the other half being due to run ins with different members of the Chain. Eventually, finally, after you'd met again and dragged First's abandoned, bleeding, almost dead but oh so stubborn he wouldn't die quite yet, carcass to camp, they'd decided to teach you how to wield a blade and take you along.

After all, it's not like you could go home.

... No, no, you couldn't go home, ever again.)

Being in the theater was a welcome breath of fresh air, even with the oddities of it's residents. But it also gave you nothing but time to think. About home, about the people who are likely to be looking for you, and kind gem bright eyes, leaves on the wind gentle touches, and smiles that could put the sun and the moon and stars to shame with their radiance and the unshakable, beautiful, lonsdaleite and steel of the will to protect and courage to follow through so, so warm it left you scorched, stealing the breath from your lungs and replacing it with lava and frost, pinning you into place better than any arrow or trick the shadow could pull. Left you aching more than any moment in the battle field, shaking you to the very marrow of your bones as the laughing dove that was affection stole into your heart like a thief, and gave half of it to the beast called love.

And

It

Was

Torture.

How could you not fall for that?

How could you not think about it?

So instead of getting even more flustered by possibly slipping up and making a fool out of yourself, giving yourself away and wanting to just wander into the Lost Woods without a guide and let yourself go mad from mortification and become a Poe (because at least then it would be a more manageable form of insanity), you'd instead taken to haunting the back wings and auditorium of the theater like a ghost. The theater was hardly all that big, but it wasn't small by any means, the size of a noble's summer home at best, so there was plenty of empty supply rooms and forgotten lounges to think, contemplate, and to keep a tenous hold on your sanity as you avoided dwelving deeply into your feelings.

After all, why would he want little old you? Unimpressive, ordinary little you, who lived a most relatively peaceful life before falling into Hyrule, who couldn't protect them properly, who most importantly of all would hurt the one you adored because you couldn't stay?

... It would be agony, you couldn't do that to him. It wouldn't be any difference than the Shadow taking your face and torturing your hero, so you'd stay silent, and hope these feelings died a quiet, peaceful death. At least in this abandoned lounge room you could refrain from making your hopeless longing obvious until you'd need to return.

"Oh me oh my, what are you doing here all alone?" Came a cawed, lilting honey coated rasp, padparascha curiosity in the the flap of nightlock coat sleeves, "I thought you'd want to join your companions! This place is still too dusty for back tours I'm afraid."

... Well, not quite so abandoned now. Is it?

Then again, you're not even too surprised, you'd be lying if you'd say you were. If there was anyone who could navigate these darkned, old halls with ease to find someone allegedly missing, it would likely be it's master.

Director Raven swoops into the room with quick, almost silent steps, a specter with the grace of a Gerudo dancer, sending you a smile, their feline companion is gone, but their ever present bloodstone feather chimes like a bell as they brush dust off an old couch, you laugh sheepishly, hoping that the tempest winds outside took your thoughts away so you could focus, "I'm sorry, you said we could go just about everywhere and I needed some time alone. Hopefully it's not any trouble?"

They cluck at you, taking a new accessory from their coat and placing it behind your ears with a cheeky poke to the nose, you blink as you touch it, a red, red rose, "Oh please, not at all! I'm a professional of my word you know? I was just worried is all, you're basically part of the troupe at this point and your lover boy has been staring at you with such concern, you know? So I thought I'd check on you."

Their concern makes you blink, with a small bite of confusion to their wording, "I've only helped you folks perform for three days now?"

They chuckle with amusement, the tone raspy and crowing as they perch themselves upon the couch, "Doesn't matter! We've had folks who stayed and helped for less time, we still consider them troupe members. Once taken in by the Astoria, you're part of it for all time, can't I have some empathy for someone so clearly pining?", You jolt, the director gives you a knowing smile, mercury amusement and gallium understanding, how did...? "Broken hearts are as dangerous as broken minds and wills to a person, take it from me. I've told and been part of one too many stories to know that all too well, now, why don't you tell good old uncle Raven what ails you?"

That makes you snort, rose quartz embarrassment mixed with xanthic amusement, "Uncle, really? Weren't you the one who said you'd actually take someone to court for emotional damages if someone tried utilizing gendered terms for you?"

They squawk, ruffling your hair with a click and hiss, as they jump up with ruffled feathers and a raised chin, mock offended, "Oh kiss my grits! This ain't about me here. This is about your longing making me sad and me being willing to hear you out from the goodness of my heart, and there you go! Spitting on my good will! As I was about to offer to make you tea, no less."

You laugh and you catch a grin on the director's lips from the reflection of a mirror, you wave them on, "Alright, alright. I'll humor you, will you want some help deciding the next story to tell while at it?"

They wink, prancing around the room for the kettle in the corner, "You know me too well! You're a wealth of new stories, I can listen to you pour your little heart out and grill you for inspiration at the same time. That way your heart will be lighter than a leaf on the wind when you next see your lover boy"

Settling in, you wait until Raven has made you both tea, getting comfortable and taking a sip.

Mhm, coming to the theater was a welcome change of pace. And talking to someone who wasn't Link about this would likely do you good.

(So preoccupied you are with your thoughts and the vaguely floral tea the director had broken out of storage and brewed, you don't notice the way another figure shows up on the reflection of the mirror just as the thunder booms, and how Raven's gloved fingers tighten a fraction as the shadows flicker oddly once you drink the tea. The cinnabar of their smile turning iron speckled with guilt and tense as they spot bloodstone tiger eyes on the doorway. Before turning fireplace warm once the Hero of Skies popped his head onto the doorway after a few hours of listening to you want, they offer him a spot of tea.)

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

The storm still raged on relentlessly outside, it's screams and howls those of lost souls and old forgotten or yet to be remembered deities rending the air with water and thunder, it's been almost a week since you all had started staying in the theater, everyone had settled into a small sort of routine, as it didn't seem like the storm would cease to rage anytime soon. You'd all wake up (checking your weapons as you go, just in case, your dagger on your sleeve a common secret among the Chain members ever since a bad run in with the Yiga, Artemis had taught you and Warriors well and if any of the troupe members notice, they didn't press), go through the usual daily routine you all had while under an actual roof, Wild, you and Twilight would cook with occasional aid from either Raven themselves who twitched and squawked about the injustice of allowing guests to cook before Edgar would cuff them over the head and take over or a very chipper Amelia whose early morning energy could only be likened to a ray of sunshine Anabella would trip over her feet and possibly kill a grown man for, and in turn you'd all take your turns occupying themselves for the day, the troupe making sure to give everyone their due space until the early evening, which is when you'd all take to storytelling.

You couldn't help your small grin as you let yourself be led by the hand by Twilight, blindfold coming off as he twirled you around as you deliberately sang an incredibly off key note, laughter and chuckles being draw from your boys as you were set down onto the stage and raised your tune, his pelt slipping off your head like the heavy, but comforting cape it was, his smile campfire warm and oak steady, Raven's crowing laughter being hidden by a coughing fit before they seemed to compose themselves enough to continue on with a straight face, "And so the wolf, once a princess, remembered the prince. And thought she'd never sing again, and it wasn't very good-" they choked as you deliberately hit a note that sounded like a dying cucco, you can vaguely see Cal coughing into his fist, First shaking his head in amusement in contrast to Sky's summer breeze laughter while Time's lips barely twitched with honey sweet amusement and Wind wheezing agaisnt a laughing Spirit's side, mission accomplished! The director sent you a look, mockingly ruffling his feathers, "Commit less to the bit darn it! I won't be able to finish if I'm rolling around on the floor!"

Your smile widens with cheek, topaz bright with delight, "No such thing as overcommiting to the bit!"

"For what it's worth they don't sound too bad when not trying to sound like a goat going into labor." Cut in Twilight, using your head as an arm rest, you playfully shove him off, you briefly catch a smirk on Warriors face, Four chuckling while Legend leant agaisnt his side for support, good. Him and Hyrule looked off kilter recently, if you could make them smile by playing the fool this once, you'd be glad.

"Oh by the Goddesses- I'm almost regretting allowing you to volunteer on stage. I'm never listening to Priscilla ever again, anyway!" They clap their hands, clearing their throat, "The prince couldn't care less, for he had a dear friend back to him. And so they stayed on that cliff's edge, enjoying each other's company and lived happily ever after!"

"That was a shockingly sweet story," Smiled Hyrule, "Short and simple but just sweet enough."

"Can't believe the rancher actually made half decent royalty though." Jabbed Warriors, though you can feel the amusement in his tone like drinking songs after a long time of conflict. "And that the final conflict was basically triggered if someone ever messed with the vet's raccon pile of stuff."

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused."

Twilight gave him a side glare then nodded at Hyrule, seemingly deciding that Legend could deal with Warriors well enough and after you playfully darted around him like a prancing doe, snagged his pelt back, you sighed at the loss of warmth and the feeling of security, but ushered him off the stage, "Never been on stage before and have no wish to do so on an official capacity, thank you. But Dusk would have my hide if I didn't pick a thing or two to add to entertaining the village children if nothing else. Have to say that last twist was a shock though." He sent you a glance and smile, "You're awfully good at playing the amnesiac, I'll say. Almost had me panicking."

You chuckle sheepishly, sitting at the edge of the stage, accepting a bit of warm tea cup Raven had brewed for everyone, "To be fair, there's a reason for that Wars, there's technically a companion story for the witch, but the actors need to go through a specific series of actions to be allowed to perform it side by side for consistency and that would be cruel on Twi. Could say the same to you, you make quite the dashing, kind prince. Thanks for coming up here."

Was that a tinge of crimson on his cheeks? You tilted your head and blinked, must have been a trick of the light, "No problem at all."

Edgar nodded, not even looking up from the script as Anabella and Amelia cuddled together to the side after a job well done, "You both together definitely made our job easier. Barely had to cue you both."

Raven nodded with a grin and wink, their voice carrying over the stage and to the audience, "You sure none of you boys want to quit this questing nonsense and join us here on the Astoria? I pay well and give benefits! Byron has lowered prices on potions on the village, plus free food and lodging."

Wild shook his head with a hum, "Tempting, but still no."

Raven clucked, their disappointment exaggerated but understanding as they leafed through the scripts you've both brainstormed together, "Ah well, worth a try. Come here then, I want your opinion on our next pick for today, I think we can squeeze a short one separated from the original deal as a bonus."

You nodded, getting up and handing Priscilla the empty tea cup back before walking over, pausing, did... Was there a hollow space beneath the stage? Experimentally, you let your steps weight a bit more onto the stage. That sounded like a trapdoor, huh. Why only use the attic? Maybe it was stuck? You catch Time's eye, he inclines his head questioningly, you mouth at him 'I'm fine, later', then bound over to Raven's side, looking at the scripts, "Any you had in mind? We're probably exhausting my mental stock at this rate if none of the noted ones do."

"Well I'm not about to go on the Hyrulean ones just yet, you have any idea how performing the same old legends over and over again can grow dull? No matter how many twists and turns one adds?" They deadpan back, you cover a wince as Four and Sky twitch, before picking one of the sheets at random.

Your voice sounds distant to your ears as you pinch the parchment between two fingers, analyzing it critically, then presenting it to the director, "How about this one? Should be short enough right?"

The Director peeks over your shoulder, head tilted from side to side, the feather on their hair seems more bloody than usual, as if the crystal would flow crimson and stain the hardwood floor. That cat is back on their shoulder again, looking at you with sharp, intelligent eyes.

(Too intelligent, hisses your mind, as mercury heats into burning iron at a forge, then cools, something is wrong wrongwrong

Come now, relax, it'll all be alright. Play along

Nothing is wrong, it's all in your head.)

"Penta the Beautiful huh? Are you sure?"

You nod firmly, "Yes. This one will do quite nicely."

(Raven's ever present smile dims, the embers of a warm fireplace and stories around the fire dying a quick death, Anabella holds onto Amelia a bit tighter as Priscilla pales, quickly leaving the room guided by Byron after ushering you back stage for a change of ensemble and to hand you the appropriate props while Edgar resolutely keeps an eye on the cues the director handed him.

The Chain notices, because of course they do, and trade a look, Spirit trades a look with Wind and slips away to the entrance with Warriors to try the heavy door.

It's locked, the shock of magic making the captain hiss. Though the air remains unnervingly sterile.)

The stage is set with no fanfare by Byron, and you walk back out with a fine white dress suit and boots to match, a mix of a suit and a dress, your head feels clouded, as if you're trying to traverse the deep fog of the Lost Woods with naught a single lantern or guide in sight to light your way, you vaguely hear Director Raven start to talk, echoing and crowing raspily with the first words that every good tale start with, "Once upon a time, there was an once prosperous kingdom. Home to a handsome king, a beautiful queen, and the king's sister, one day the queen fell ill and eventually passed for no cure could be found and no magic could heal her. I suppose some things are simply fated to happen, but the king, maddened in his grief, started lusting for none other..." The director paused, sneering with a disgusted shiver, you think that if they truly were a bird, their feathers would be ruffled, "His own sister."

You could see the exact second that each Link cringed back, those with siblings of their own (or who actively looked over others as siblings themselves) turning to ash white and to thistle green with revulsion and horror, the director nodding along with a hand over their head in a mock swoon, "I know! How could such vile thoughts manifest in a ruler's mind? It's preposterous! Outrageous! Horrifying! Though the words of a proposal did indeed leave his mouth, his sister princess was equally bewildered and disgusted, spitting venom from her spleen with rage."

That was your cue.

You growled, snarling with fury hot enough to rival a dragon's flame, allowing poison to sharpen your tongue, "You may have lost your mind, but I shall not lose my modesty or my shame! Why would you offer me rotten eggs when you need fresh ones?! How dare you!", somewhere in the audience you hear a choke, but you continue on. Committing to the role with a dedication you didn't know you possibly possessed, feeling vaguely disconnected from your body and actions, "I regret that you have a tongue to speak of such lecherous actions towards myself and that I unfortunately have the ears to hear such a suggestion. Am I your sister or cheese cooked in oil? Either way those and siblings not mix! Either way, go find a holy spring to bathe in so you may set your mind back on straight." You gesture towards yourself, baffled, "I am not a morsel that would make anyone lose their minds over, so what on Farore's good land about me could have made you grown so sick in the head?"

The director continued on, tone dry as they set their hand on a hip, "I'll spare you the monologue, my dear audience, because I'm sure it would make both you, me and our poor performer here retch and that would be a waste of Sir Wild's lovely cooking. It essentially boiled down to her hands. So, after acquiring her answer, she left in a flurry of rage and conviction, after all, if it was her hands that caused this..." The director trailed off, pausing, mouth clicking shut.

As if not willing to continue on.

(The pain in your head was getting worse.

"If it was his love for her hands which caused this, all she'd need to do is chop them off.")

Conflict passes through their slate gray gaze, before determined resolve settles into it, their tone quiet and tight, "... No. I can't go through with this anymore.", They swivel, running to you with quick strides, you feel the agony of your head splitting open, in between the haze you see more than react to the blade. Your blade held in your hands, twisted in such a way to sink into your flesh, blood beads onto your sleeve before Raven catches your arm in their hands, twisting towards the now alarmed heroes with panic on their face like a someone realizing they'd just went somewhere to die, "Listen! It's not safe here, specially NOT for them. I'm so sorry. Take them and get out through-"

That cat is there in a flash of darkness, it sinks it's claws into Raven's shoulder, the director crying out and letting go of your arm to try and get it off, leaving the dagger to slice deeply. You can see Time slam into a magically erected barrier around the stage as it's crimson eyes gleam with malice and satisfaction. The cat bites at the director's shoulder, tearing away the black ribbon holding the red gem they always wore. You hear Legend screaming and Hyrule casting a spell at the barrier, the shockwave palpable as it does not budge

You'll never know what they wanted to tell you all, though the flash of desperation, guilt and apologies will likely haunt your nightmares as their head fell off.

All of the lights go off.

And in a flash of thunder, you hear a sigh behind you. The barest tips of a clawed hand making your skin crawl with revulsion.

"Well... I'd like to say I'm surprised. But I'm really, really not that they didn't have the nerve to fully go through with it. Pity." That awful, awful voice is colored with disappointment while they pass you by, you think you feel the brush of a scaly tail around your legs and a blade at your throat. You try desperately to wrestle control back to your own body when you can't hear the Chain anymore. They stalk dance gently at your side, the rustle of cloth as someone bends down, the crystalline, padparascha crimson feather Raven always wore in their hair gleams in the dark with a melancholic light of their own, "Ah well, at least they did half the job I wanted them to and held onto what I needed. Still, just proves that if you want somebody gone that you just have to do it yourself."

You feel a feather light touch on your chin, tilting your head up, your heart freezes alongside your body as you lock gazes with the bloodstone empty gaze of a feathery mask, the figure in front of you wears a dark hood, caliginous and fleeting like the memories of a nightmare hanging onto your mind by it's very claw tips. It blends in perfectly with the darkness, liminal and just on the edge of the negative spaces of reality.

They smile with all of the sweetness of rotten things and arsenic and it makes you sick.

"Dear me... You are so, so pathetically helpless like this. I can take my time with you, can't I? To tear everything that makes you yourself piece.by.piece..." the touch tightens, nightlock claws sink into your skin and drawing blood, you feel like screaming but your mouth won't open, your body betrays you as you drown and drown and fall. It makes the thing behind you hiss out a laugh and you are certain you won't hear a more wretched sound in your life as they study you like a pinned butterfly, "How very precious, it fills me with joy, but really it's more disappointing and disgusting. It's almost enough to make me want to die!" The being in front of you snarls, all venom and the burning flames of a madman, before they calm, smiling a dagger sharp, hateful grin with a hum, "... Ah, whatever. Let's get this show on the road properly this time, shall we? You wait for your cue darling." They mockingly pat the snout of the Shadow in front of you, narrowingly dodging a snap of teeth with a cackle, before they disappear in a flurry of obsidian and ember feathers.

They clap, and the light returns to the theater. Their mismatched hands are spread, clawed and gloved and you see a cloak of black feathers laid over their entire body, the tip of dagger sharp, silver heels making them tower easily over the pool of blood from the director's severed neck.

"Good evening, blood red dogs of Hylia!-"

They barely finish their sentence before the boys move, arrows and magic set loose at the figure in a blur, the figure dances back, tsking as they appear on the chandelier now, lounging nonchantly and revealing your form at blade point from the Shadow, struggling to remove your dagger from your arm. You can almost feel their disapproving look as they cross their arms at the face of furious glares from the heroes of Hyrule, "Rude."

First does not look amused as he stays Sky's hand from unleashing a Skyward Strike, the other's eyes as frigid as the storm outside, "We are going to need you to let our companion go before any apologies are given I'm afraid."

"And I'll be needing you lot to stop snapping and growling like mutts before making any negotiations like that." The figure snaps back primly, a pot and tea cup appearing nearby, with a flick of their wrist two things appear on their hands as freshly brewed tea poured itself which makes a shiver fun down your side, alarm and panic gnawing at your skin and exposing your fragile heart with almost clinical curiosity as they toss it down.

A dark iris purple Minish Feather earring, and penumbra dark, torn fairy feathers, you think you still see the bits of wisps clinging to it like blood and the exact moment Four tenses, colors prismatic as they flash over his eyes and Hyrule freezes, Twilight sending them a concerned look, though his hand doesn't move from his sword.

The display is enough to keep your companions on guard, but not react, that thing atop the chandelier perfectly positioned to crush you without a second thought leisurely sipping tea. Before addressing the Chain below, "Now that I've successfully gotten your attention by indicating the extermination of vermin I've had to recently do, why don't we talk? I'm perfectly reasonable, I promise not to bite or anything, blood is quite the nuisance to clean off rhe stage after all."

"Very well," Time's voice cuts through the silence, composed even as his mind is running a mile per minute, "May we make some inquiries?"

Their lips curl in amusement, a slightly mocking edge to their relaxed lilt, "There we go, was being polite so hard? You may, one at a time though!" They look down at the Shadow, which hisses up at them, eyes focused on the heroes, the edges of it's existence flickering oddly, casting itself over walls and the now scorched wooden floor, "Don't want to agitate our friend here you know? Or else we'll have a sparrow singing very very soon." They sing song, you can feel Warriors cringe where he stands, but he's also the first one to jump to questioning at Time's slight nod.

"Why are you working with the Shadow?"

The figure shrugs, pouring themselves a second mug, "Why does anyone do anything? Complete and utter, sheer boredom is why. It had a good sales pitch won't lie, I haven't been bored since you lot decided to stay here."

You see the way Legend's eyes narrow, a scowl on his face and tone biting, itching to move, "What did you do to them?"

"You'll have to be more specific, if you mean your little friend here. Nothing really, they came up on the stage and used the knife themselves after all." The masked figured clucked, shrugging, "As for the rest, you can blame Raven. They lost their nerve when they shouldn't have and dragged the troupe down with them, when I gave them one job besides watching my theater, plus..." they sighed, placing Raven's feather by the thorns holding the mask grafted onro their face, clicking their clawed, bloody hand agaisnt the tea cup, uncaring when your blood mixes with the sugar cubes, "They also failed to do proper research, I mean doesn't help certain nasty little disgraces-" they growl pointedly at the Shadow at that, who snarls back, making a twisted duet of mutual, black loathing come to life, "Also made their job harder, but seriously. Even a braindead donkey could have done a bit more research."

"What do you mean? No need to insult Raven like that! They were nice." Blurted out Spirit, you can practically feel the poor dear itching to snap the whip to snatch you, Wind holding onto his an Cal's wrists like a vice so they wouldn't make any sudden moves, First tapping Calamity's back and looking at the hooded being's perch, making Calamity's eyes narrow and Sky slowly let go of the possible Skyward Strike, thankfully enough. Being crushed to death would not help your boys get out of here.

The hooded and masked figure twitched, head listing lazily to the side, unhurried, as if bored or maybe dissapointed as they sighed apathetically, it gave you gooseflesh, but you dared not move an inch, struggling against your own limbs and with the Shadow at your back, "I mean I was just taken by surprise. You know, I wouldn't have taken the heroes of Hyrule for liars and oath breakers, and also against the laws of hospitality. Shooting arrows and magic at your host within their own home? For shame! Didn't your parents teach you better?"

You could see how each of the heroes bristled, but seeing crimson beading against your unwilling, trapped skin stayed their blade, though that did not stop Legend from snarling up at the hidden figure, sipping tea as if it was watching an incredibly entertaining play, "Oath breakers? That's rich coming from you! Raven said we could stay here safely and then leave once the storm was over!"

"And you attacked one of our own first." Added Warriors, his tone as glacial as the winter winds, enough to freeze anyone down to the marrow.

They incline their head, voice distorted, the screaming echo of scavengers like nails on chalkboard and as refined as a well curated blade, "True, though neither they nor I never said you'd all leave unharmed, did we? And you didn't keep your end of the deal either." Their tone goes dryer, as they throw the tea cup away without a care in favor of throwing their hands up, as if it was the Chain being unreasonable and not the person who presumably did something to Shadow and Hyrule's own Shade, you can see Sky barely keeping his grip on an enraged Four, "Besides! I didn't attack them, they kindly volunteered to go up stage on their own. You're all so up in arms for something that's part of the performance, a little injury is a small price to pay for the bit."

"A 'little injury'?! I doubt they'd try cutting off their own hands for a BIT." Stressed Hyrule, snapping out of his shock, in response to that, the cloaked person shrugged.

"I mean a little disarment never killed anyone."

Wild looked seconds from firing another arrow, teeth gritted and bared as Twilight sent a furious glare to the one perched atop the stage, just above the lights, ready to knock them down and crush you if needed be, "I'm pretty sure it has, actually."

"Anyway! You're all so caught up on semantics, by the Three, so uptight. Does having the splinters so far up there not sting?" they glanced at the Shadow, the obsidian and granite lizalfos glancing back at them before hissing at Time, ready to lunge, teeth stained with Director Raven's blood, "This the kind of tough crowd you have to deal with? Yeesh, no wonder you yap more than a kicked dog at times." They turn back to the Chain, clapping their hands, "In any case, let's make another deal, shall we? I'm a playwright of my word after all. You could leave your little friend here to become one of my actors and go on your merry way." You swore you felt your heart stop, blood rushing in your ears, you barely caught the sharp glint of a hollow smile beneath the crow shaped mask and their next words, "Or! If you're really that attached-", they send you a bemused look, "Can't see why but hey," shrugging, they continue on, unrelenting like a hunting wolf, "You can act instead. I'll send you all into different tales and should you finish them in accordance to the script, I may let you just leave without too much of a fuss. No catches." They point to the Shadow, "Can't make any promises for that one though, it's a solo act you see, if anything I'm just lending the venue and he was lucky to rent first, the wretch."

"And if we refuse?" Probed Time, you could see the gears turning in his head like clockwork, trying to find a way to swing this in everyone's favor so you all can get out alive.

The vulture in crow skin only smiled wider, "Then none of us gets them and you die here, I'll let the Shadow tear you apart to it's void soul's delight, and kill them on the spot." The blades press against your arms against your will, and you twitch, trying to wrestle control back and only getting pain for you troubles, muffling a yell, "Maybe put them in a soup and make jewelry out of the bones that I don't reuse in a broth, I'd look pretty dashing in a crown." They giggle, unhinged cruelty into every word as they clap their hands, voice rising to a screeching crescendo, "Oh oh! Or just roll them down a barrel filled with spikes on a hill, or make them dance and dance and dance on hot iron shoes until they drop dead! Haven't decided yet, so many choices, so little time. It's almost enough to leave me hot and bothered." The true owner of the theater sighed, longingly hugging themselves before turning a cold, hard tone to the heroes, "You sure you want to risk that?"

Silence descends upon the theater like a widow's shroud, seems you're all at an impasse, you're unable to move and while you're certain your boys could overpower whatever that monstrosity is and deal with the Shadow, none of you could be sure they could do it before the Shadow slit your throat or that being (person? No, it felt too unnatural to be human.) Knocked the chandelier down or made good on their threat.

The masked unknown simply summoned themseles a second mug, pouring more tea, "Take your time to answer. I can wait. Though if you ask me the choice is extremely obvious, come on now, what's one more or one less for your little group? It's not like they're important to the narrative anyway-"

"No tricks?" Cut in First, you see the being twotch at the interruption.

"Rude. Seriously, does Hylia just likes to pick the feral ones and set them loose upon the world? Seems like bad business." They pause, then hum, "Then again, maybe not, I hear her incarnations can be quite unhinged. Quite the match made in hell, you lot then and those Demise decides to live rent free in huh? I almost feel bad now. Yikes, my condolences." They pluck a bouquet of camellias, roses and acacias from the inside of their cloak and throw it down to the Chain. You're not even surprised when Wild snags the fire rod from Legend and sets it aflame.

"Holding our friend hostage and talking about actively killing them doesn't inspire us to play nice." Gritted out Four. Grip tight onto his sword.

"If you feel bad then just let them go!" Gestured Wind from his side.

"Your criticism has been noted. I only don't concede because I can't see any reason why you'd want them around." The figure drawls back before answering First, "No tricks or catches or too much of a fuss, all you have to do is play along the script and play nice. Do that and in theory we shouldn't have much trouble. Maybe I'll even be nice and throw in one of those rewards like the places you all crawl through do on occasion, why not?" The Shadow roars at that, they snap down at it, "My theater, my rules! I'm bored okay? Let me spice things up!"

Time breathes, you can see the lonsdaleite persistence come back to the forefront, "Then we accept."

The figure stills, before shaking their head, they leap down from the chandelier, gliding across the stage with quick steps as the feeling of drowning recedes, the Shadow begrudgingly letting you go as you gasp, the figure snags your arm in one clawed hand, drags you to the edge of the stage, then kicks you off with a sigh, thankfully, Twilight and Warriors are there ro support you as they turn towards Time, tone blank as they extend that same clawed hand, "Way to pick the boring choice, but fine. I shouldn't expect much of a surprise I suppose." They shake hands, you feel the hum of magic settle into the air, twisted and wrong it almosy brings that drowning feeling back, water trying to pull you down as they grin and step back, opening a blank, black book, snagging the crystalline quill and using your blood as ink, they write, everything goes dark quickly as the Shadow snuffs out every light again as it dissolves, spreading ober every single nook and cranny of the open space.

You think they bare their teeth at you specifically before snapping the book shut, "Let me weave you a tale!"

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

Scene IIII End. Thus closes the Opening Act.

[jackidy]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 8: Shed

Pairing: Hermes/Azem (Hermes/Tisiphone) Characters: Hermes, Azem, Fandaniel, NB!Vie'ra WOL Warnings: Shadowbringers/Endwalker Spoilers, misgendering* Rating: T Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Summary: She sprouts up like the flowers, sat beside him with faux annoyance at his statement. Her dramatics had unnerved him once, her ploys of mood swings putting him on edge until she giggled and smiled at him. Tisiphone was pure sunlight and he had no worthiness to bask in her light.

Misgendering is fandaniel refering to Rino by their Azems name and pronouns (She/Her). I may write more of this idea eventually.

[AO3]

---

"I thought I'd find you here" 

Her laugh is like music, light and whimsical, laid amongst the flowers of Elpis under the midday sun. Tisiphone was a vision, an embodiment of beauty that lit up whatever dark corner Hermes would try and slink into to hide. 

"The butterflies are wondrous, how could I be anywhere else?" Mismatched purple eyes meet his, a fondness on her face that still makes his heart skip a beat. "Sit and listen to Hades wax lyrical about his 'issues'? Hardly."

It's his turn to chuckle now, Hermes settling down in the wildflowers with his beloved, sitting as opposed to laying like she. "You came all the way here to avoid work? I find that hard to believe." 

She sprouts up like the flowers, sat beside him with faux annoyance at his statement. Her dramatics had unnerved him once, her ploys of mood swings putting him on edge until she giggled and smiled at him. Tisiphone was pure sunlight and he had no worthiness to bask in her light. 

"Do I need a reason to come and see my husband?" She huffs, arms folding and eyes rolling, turning her face away from him slightly. "You paint me guilty for loving you?" 

Hermes manoeuvres her face gently, Tisiphone's cheeks becoming rose with fluster as he tilts her chin up with his hand. "Only when you're aware of any surprises I have planned for you." 

She's hard to ignore like this, cheeks plump and pinkened, licking her lips nervously. "Okay… Maybe I am but Azem isn't the seat of patience, now is it?“

"I suppose not but just a little more patience and I'll tell you everything." 

He means everything. Metion was a passion project but also a gift, for Tisiphone who longed to traverse the stars and bear witness to the life beyond their star. A companion for her to travel with but also one to keep her safe, let her know where it's safe to travel and where it isn't.

So they could remain together even when she was travelling. Even when they were apart. 

"Oh fine, since its you. I'd wait forever if its for you." 

—-

Memories are a weakness, a scourge upon all his lives. Each rebirth since sundering has been plagued by memories of her, a desire to find her before the inevitable: she doesn't remember and in his grief he removes her from the equation. 

His hands are saturated with the blood of Azem and with each new wash of red, that shred of Hermes that still remains crumbles slightly more. 

It's at the royal gardens they reunite, a falter in his performance for the Eorzean Alliance as the chosen hero morphs into something more familiar. Black floods to red, purple eyes boring into him as there's a flicker of something like recognition before its replaced with rage. 

Does she remember him now? Does she feel wronged by all the times he'd murdered her in grief laden rage? That flicker of Hermes becomes an inferno, Fandaniel continuing his performance with one final step. 

The shard of Tisiphone doesn't flinch as they appear before him, lips curling into a sneer to oppose his own charmed smile. He knows it's probably the face he's wearing that she recognises but he can't help himself. 

He can never stop himself when it comes to her. 

"Hello again, Love."

[jealousraisin]

Ch.10 - The Summer Festival

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

It was that time of year again, at the peak of summer, your area held a festival over the long weekend. It was a mid-range big deal for everyone who lives here, kids love it for all the carnival style games and rides, the teens and adults love it for the performances of up-and-coming bands and the occasional known artist headlining. It’s a great time for everyone involved.

“Whaaat? it’s that time of year already?” Vanessa’s lazily remarking to no one in particular.

“Hm? What is?” You were currently preparing lunch for the two of you, busy chopping up some vegetables in the kitchen.

“The festival’s this weekend! Looks like the opening night is going to be good this year!” Looking up from the cutting board you see Vanessa very comfortably sprawled out on your couch scrolling through the event’s page. You hear some gasps and mutters as she sees the lineup of events, she always was one to get excited about local bands and solo artists. She frequently dragged you to dimly lit venues, cheering on bands that have eccentric names with performances that left you feeling electric, if anyone had good taste it was her.

“AHH! YOUNG ASTRAL IS PERFORMING?!” Vanessa exclaims as you set down various plates on the table.

“Remind me again? Young Astral?”

“How can you forget, ughhh come on they were so good! And don’t get me started on their bassist…” She gets up off the couch to sit down with you. Placing some chicken on her plate, you smile as you let her go on about the latest band she’s crazy for. You’re certain if she put on one of their songs, you’d recognise it, but by titles alone there was no way.

“Anyways, I am absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, going to go see their set.”

You go with Vanessa to the festival pretty much every year, sometimes her other friends join you and it becomes a group outing. It’s always a lot of fun. You serve yourself some of the chicken and settle down to eat. Just as you’re taking your first bite, Vanessa switches subjects.

“So….” Vanessa’s tone of voice has a hint of teasing in it. “You going with anyone this year?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, what is she trying to suggest?

“You?”

“Nope. Wrong answer.” She pokes around her food, staring at you with eyes that say ‘You know.’

You do not know.

Okay that was a bit of a lie, it would be nice to go with Luke but you’re sure he’s going with all his friends and you really don’t want to intrude if he already has plans.

“Ask him.”

“What? No. I couldn’t, I’m sure he’s busy with plans to go with his friends…”

“Ask.” Vanessa takes another mouthful of the chicken with a finality that left no room to argue.

After that the conversation shifted to something else. Topics of work and Vanessas current projects filling the quiet apartment with laughter and enthusiastic conversation. With lunch finished the two of you moved onto having some drinks on your balcony, exchanging jokes and fond memories of college as the sun started to set.

Vanessa’s phone buzzes.

“Shoot, is that really the time?” She exclaims. You turn to look at her just as she’s getting up, you vaguely remember her saying something about a date tonight. You’re up and out of your seat along with her, taking her half empty drink off her hands as she scrambles inside to grab her things.

“Think about what I said m’kay?” Vanessa reminds you as she gives you a hug goodbye.

“Sure.” Waving her off, only shutting the door when the elevator closes. Turning around back into your apartment, you start to tidy up a bit.

Thinking about it was easy, deciding to do it is another thing. On one hand, it sounds like a lot of fun; you enjoy his company. On the other hand, you really don’t want to intrude if he has any plans, and you don’t want to be that guy that gets retroactively tacked onto plans just because they asked if the other one wanted to hang out at the same time. Overthinking is a beast you haven’t quite tamed yet.

Grabbing your phone, you type out the message.

‘Want to go to the opening night of the festival with me?’

Your thumb hovers over the send button, somehow your phone feels heavy in your hand as you run through the possibilities of sending versus not sending the message. You felt stupid for overthinking asking a friend to hang out, rationally you knew it was harmless. Steeling your nerves, you press send just as you receive a text from him.

‘Would you like to go to the first night of the festival with me? Heard there was going to be fireworks’

No way.

Three dots appear underneath his message, he’s writing something.

‘Haha no way! At the same time too!’

‘Does that mean you’re down to come with me?’

He’s a double, triple, quadruple texter. Your phone buzzes with each message back-to-back.

Your shock leaves you motionless for a second, you just had to text him the exact same thing at the same time. You were agonising over nothing, just to end up in an awkward situation. Only you see it as awkward though, on the other side of the screen Luke was beaming at receiving pretty much the same message he just sent looking back at him.

‘???’

Right. You were texting him.

‘I’d like to go with you if you’re down for that?’ You finally reply.

‘Haha how fucked up would it be if I said I didn’t want to?’ He’s teasing you. ‘Of course, I’ll pick you up from your place at about 6?’

‘Sounds good to me.’

‘It’s a date then 😎’

‘haha, sure👍’ Leave it to him to say something like that, you knew he didn’t mean it that way.

Vanessa was right. She was also currently gloating at the fact that she was correct. Once again on your lunch break, you were relaying to her that you ended up inviting Luke at the same time he did. Vanessa scoots closer to you, her voice dropping to just above a whisper “I never did mention him by name yesterday y’know…”

Your eyes widen, she didn’t.

“Yeah? Well, uhh…” You’re caught off guard, not sure what to say. Vanessa was holding onto that fact until after you told her about your plans, she was enjoying this. Whatever this was.

“Haha relax! I’m glad you’re going; besides I would have felt a little bad if you didn’t have plans since I do…”

“Oh? Plans?” This piqued your interest.

“I’m going with someone to the Young Astral set!”

“Anyone I know?”

“Hmm, no I don’t think so but they were at Luke’s party. We are into a lot of the same bands!”

“Nice! I’m glad you guys share interests; how dare you leave me to fend for myself though. Whatever will I do without you?” You playfully jab her; you couldn’t really get mad at her for that.

“Oh please, like I’d leave you hanging. Text me your outfit options later.”

Finishing up lunch, you return back to your desk and the pile of tasks left waiting as you mentally rummage through your closet. You wonder what Luke was going to wear, he’s probably way less worried about it than you are.

The weekend rolls around in the blink of an eye, work was busy enough to keep you occupied all week. Now was finally the time to have fun and unwind a bit. It was just past 4 PM, you’re putting away the last of the groceries when your alarm reminder to get ready goes off. Texting Vanessa to make sure she’s not going to be late to her date, you scurry off to have a shower. Taking your time putting on the outfit you and Vanessa agreed upon the other day, you add the finishing touches to your look as your phone pings. It’s Luke, he’s on his way.

For some reason, nerves settle in your stomach.

Why were you nervous? This is a hangout just like any other. Don’t be silly.

Shaking your head, you will yourself out of your train of thought. Grabbing your things you head out the door and into the elevator, you fiddle with your hair in the mirror, brushing down strays as the numbers get closer to the bottom floor.

Ding!

Stepping outside of the apartment building, you find a spot to wait for Luke. Your mind drifts elsewhere, running through scenarios and mundane tasks you need to get done at some point. Your eyes barely register his red car pull up right in front of you, he waved but you didn’t notice.

Honk!

You startle.

Winding down the passenger side window, Luke leans over the centre console of the car and beams up at you.

“You gonna daydream all day or are you going to get into this handsome stranger’s car?”

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes; he took no time at all to kick off the jokes and annoyances.

Settling into his car, you buckle in after a quickly muttered ‘hey’. Luke gives you a quick once-over then starts the car and heads off; His playlist filling the otherwise quiet cabin of the car. The sun wasn’t going to set for at least another hour or two.

Arriving at the festival, you could already see the large crowd of people arriving and gathering at the pier and beach area. Finding a parking spot was a slight challenge with the amount of people but after circling around a bit, Luke managed to snag one for himself. The ignition is shut off, the music turning off with it. You’re about to open the door and get out when Luke grabs your attention.

“Hold on, I need you to do something first”

Taking your hand off of the door’s handle, you turn and look at him with slight confusion.

“Open up the glove box for me, will you?”

“Sure, what did you need from it?” reaching over and opening the compartment, you spot a sleek black box. Luke points to it.

“For you, go on; open it.”

With curiosity, you open the nondescript box. You were met with an accessory; the exact one you were eyeballing when you and Charlie were hanging out.

“Wha-how? This is-“ You’re flustered and excited as you try to express your gratitude.

“Charlie sent me a picture of it a couple of weeks back, I thought you’d like it”

You lean over the centre console and hug him.

“Oh my god this is-ah I don’t know what to say! Thank you!!”

He freezes up for a moment, then returns the hug.

“I’m glad you like it; I was a little nervous you wouldn’t”

Pulling back, you’re enthusiastically putting on the gift straight away. “Are you kidding? This is like, the coolest thing ever.”

He notices you’re fiddling with putting it on and moves to help you put it on. He’s close. Suddenly the car space feels smaller. With a bit of adjusting; it’s on.

“Shall we get going? I want to get on some rides before the fireworks” He’s grinning.

“Mhm!”

Of course he would take you on this kind of ride, why did you think this was going to be calmer rides like the smaller rollercoaster or even the teacups. You were nearing the front of the line for a ride that takes you up high then drops you without any warning. Your stomach was doing flips just even thinking about it, seeing the people ahead of you on the ride made your stomach do flips. All it took to find yourself in this situation was some simple goading from his end.

“What? You scared?”

That was all it took to do your best to prove him wrong, a resolve reared its head. Your turn was up. Luke grabbed your hand as he led you to an available seat right next to him. You clip yourself in and wait for the operator to come around and do the final safety checks. You turn to Luke who is grinning like an idiot, clearly, he enjoys these kinds of rushes: he’s even kicking his legs back and forth like this is the most fun a person could anticipate. You grip the safety bar, looking up at the sky and the tall, tall tower you’re going to be climbing; and at that very moment pray that you make it out of this alive. Proving him wrong was the last thing on your mind right now, you were nervous as all hell.

The mechanism starts to work, jostling you a little bit as you start to rise. You have to hand it to them; you get a really good view of the ocean and the festival below with this ride. But the fact that it is going to be dropping you at a high speed with 0 warning was enough for your nerves to take centre stage. You hit the top and the waiting game begins. You look at Luke yet again, his expression a total inversion of yours. He notices your stare and quirks his eyebrow at you.

“Isn’t this fun?!” He beams. “Any second now!”

Clunk!

The telltale sound that you were about to plummet down rings in your ears, your hand flies to Luke’s own hand out of pure instinct and anxiety. Grip strength you didn’t even know you had revealing itself in this very moment. Screwing your eyes shut, you feel your insides try to make their way out of your body due to the sheer force of falling.

“Oh fuuuuuuuuuu-“ is all that could be heard by the people in the line below you, paired with Luke’s overjoyed laughter at the sensation.

The ride slows and comes to its final stop, you’re released from the safety bars and you feel like your knees are going to give out the second they touch solid ground. Coming to your senses as you leave the ride, you realise you were still holding his hand.

“Haha that was too good! Oh, we should go to that one next!” Your horrified eyes follow his pointing, relief floods you as it looks like a much milder ride. He tugs you towards it, easily navigating the crowd with you in tow. Yes, you were scared, but thinking back on it, it was fun.

The two of you went on a few more rides; each time, spending the time in the queue chatting away and joking around. The sun was slowly setting and the crowds started to really grow. Leaving yet another ride, you hear the live performances kicking off and you’re reminded of Vanessa. You hope her date is going well.

“Ah man, performances are starting! Did you want to see any of them?” Luke was turning towards the direction of the sound, trying to hear if he recognised the group that was currently playing.

“I don’t really know any of the artists this year, but if you do then let’s go!”

He smiles at you, starting to work his way through the crowd and towards the stage area; only getting slightly sidetracked with his destination by one of the food trucks. He realises after all of those rides that the two of you should grab a bite. He orders some fries and drinks for the two of you, which you gladly accept.

Luke was scanning the program flyer nearby when his eyes light up with recognition.

“Yoo! No way!! ‘Young Astral’ AND‘Riot of the Red Light’? They’re performing?”

You were taking a sip from your drink when Luke’s excitement jostled you around. Why does it seem like everyone but you knew about these bands? No wonder Vanessa and Luke’s friends got along so well when they met.

“Oh, they’re starting their set now actually! Come on let’s go!” You’re joining the crowd all the way at the back, there was no way you were making it anywhere near the front at this point. The songs sounded semi familiar so you had no trouble going along with them. Looking around you manage to spot Vanessa and her date navigating around in the ocean of people, you send her a jokingly creepy text; attaching a picture you snapped quickly of her from behind. You knew she would laugh at that. Luke was as excited as ever, seemingly knowing every word as he records short snippets of the performance, you smile at his enthusiasm. You were struggling to see over the crowd now, but this was a common thing for you so you weren’t too fussed about it, Luke on the other hand noticed that there was no way you were able to see right now. He leans over to your side, getting close so you can hear him.

“Can you even see?”

“Not really! But it’s fine!”

“Like hell it is, come on, up you go!”

“What do you mean ‘up I go’, Whoa!” In an instant you’re being effortlessly hoisted up onto his shoulders. Catching your balance, you feel Luke’s arms steady you.

“Is this okay to do? Aren’t I heavy?”

“Oh please, I lift way more than whatever you weigh I promise.”

You laugh at his lack of concern for having a whole person weighing on his shoulders. You record some of the song while you have a view. Luke takes your phone out of your hand midway through the second snippet, flipping the camera around to record a video of the two of you moving about, he’s lip syncing dramatically and you can’t help the giddy giggle coming out of you at his eager energy. He manages to snap a couple of selfies before returning your phone to your hands again. His hands find their place on your legs to steady you as he sings along to the next song, your attention diverted away from the performance and to his arms. You could feel his biceps against your thighs moving as he danced along to the performance, clearly, he has a good workout routine because they looked really good from this angle. Staring just a bit too hard at his hands that were holding you in place, is it weird to think they were pretty? Your own hands rested on his head, playing with his hair a bit as you got a little too lost in thought, the song ended and you were none the wiser until he shifted to let you down from his shoulders. Feet hitting the ground once more.

“So, what did you think of the view?”

“Amazing,” You don’t think you were talking about the same thing.

“I knew you would, no way you were getting the full experience from down there. Tall people privilege or whatever they say.” He’s puffing his chest out with mock pride. He takes out his phone and checks the time.

“Looks like we have just enough time before the fireworks to get a proper meal in. What do you say?”

You realise you were hungry at that exact moment; you were too wrapped up in your own head to notice before but a slightly too overpriced meal from some random food stall sounded like heaven right now. Truly peak festival experience. Eagerly nodding your head at the suggestion, you take his hand and guide the two of you back in the direction of the food stalls and trucks.

Lining up and ordering from a kebab stall, you receive a portion from the man running it that could feed a small village. At least you won’t starve. Finding a spot to sit; the two of you devour the meal while doing some people watching. Luke managed to finish his kebab in a shockingly fast time. When you joke about him eating like ‘he’s been starved’ he quickly defends himself.

“A growing boy like myself has to eat, plus I’m so certain the amount of chicken he put in my kebab made me hit my protein target for the day. #sograteful” He nods like he’s dishing out the wisdom of the century.

“Please never speak in hashtag to me ever again,” You cringe. He snorts a laugh at that. Finishing your kebab, the two of you dispose of the wrappers and drink cups so that you can make your way to the beach and get a good view of the fireworks that were about to begin.

Managing to find a spot that is less crowded, you sit down on a grassy section of the beach, as to avoid the amount of sand you’re going to end up with in your clothes and shoes. Easy conversation flowed as you waited for the firework show to start.

Luke turned his attention fully onto you “Um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you actually”

Averting your gaze from the boat currently setting up the fireworks in the horizon, you return the attention. Feeling the seriousness and nerves in his voice.

“Sure, what’s up? What’s…wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, quite the opposite really,”

You give him your full undivided attention, trying to wordlessly help him feel like he doesn’t have to be nervous to say whatever he wanted to tell you. Leaving silence to prompt him to go on.

“Well, we’ve known each other for a little while. And I feel like from the moment I’ve met you, it has just been so easy to be with you and like, I’ve never really had that with someone before. I feel like we have a connection that you don’t find easily and I cherish that. I really enjoy the time we spend together. You’re someone who has very quickly fit into my life, almost like you were meant to be there the entire time. Something that now that I know what it’s like, I don’t want to be without. And I’d be stupid to let you go…What I’m trying to say is, that I think that I-“

BOOM!

The firework show has started, and in that moment, you see his lips moving but you couldn’t make out what he was saying over the barrage of fireworks happening on the horizon.

“-and I’d like that if you do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that last part??” You tilt your head in confusion, trying to piece together what he was trying to tell you.

“Oh! Um, never mind! The fireworks are amazing, aren’t they?” He has an awkward smile, as he quickly changes the subject.

You really wanted to know what he wanted to say…

[gddmgttsu]

Good evening.

I’m once again feeling nostalgic…

I watched a video where the background music was either a cover or maybe a song that was inspired by Who Put the Bomp. My brain heard the lyrics and even though it was being sung differently, I knew exactly what it was.

The lyrics to the song is so unique that it just unearthed pleasant memories.

I’m on my computer. It’s either my first or second year in highschool and I’m just mindlessly browsing the internet. The image of the scene in my head is always around 4pm when the sun is just starting to set and the living room where my computer was in is lit by a warm orange glow.

I have my headphones on and I’m listening to the entire discography of Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.

Their first album has some of the most memorable tracks because I just wanted to hesr all of their music. They mainly do covers of old songs and performs them in a punk rock style. Their work is pretty great and some of my favorites from their first album, Have a Ball, are Danny’s Song, Leaving on a Jet Plane and One Tin Soldier being my favorite of the album.

I feel like that era of my life defined by Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. I listend to their music so much back then I still know the lyrics by heart.

The only reason why I know about them is because when I was a tiny baby browsing Newgrounds, I would frequent the Stick Animation page or collection whatever it was.

One of the animations featured I think was titled “Over the Rainbow” and it was the Me First cover played over a cool stick figure battle. It ends with a giant stickman fighting the protagonist and it ends with the songs finale. I guess when I got older I bothered to look up the songs origins because its a good song probably in my top 5 of theirs.

I have so many fond memories of that time. Like how I beat Cave Story’s hell level and beat Ballos while a guy was making a custom gun case for my dad behind me in the living room. The countless hours of playing Minecraft on a computer that could barely run it. Downloading that Megaman Doom conversion and actually having an FPS playable on my computer.

My current compter setup lacks the vibes compared to back then. The old house was demolished for this new one and the sun dosen’t enter the house the same way.

I always liked the idea of: “If I were to build a house I would just make it exactly like the old one.” Sometimes I wish I could immerse myself in that house again. I can only see it in my dreams now.

Right now, I’m on the verge of tears. It’s a strange feeling, the longing and sadness of times gone by. How life hits you harder now when you realize how things have changed for better and for worse.

All of this from listening to a track I haven’t heard in years…

Memories, especially ones you hold dear, are powerful.

I would say that right now, things aren’t necessarily better or worse than before. It’s just that things are different and slightly more difficult as an adult.

That joy I felt back then has certainly dimmed over the years but hasn’t faded completely.

It’s these moments of brief nostalgia that light the fire a bit brighter than before, even for the briefest of moments.

Honestly it reminds me that I still have to make a punk rock song of my own… Maybe I should make it a cover too just like how Me First and the Gimme Gimmes did just to pay homage.

I have so many projects I want to work on but no time thanks to my current circumstances. I’ll get around to them someday.

With that, I need to sleep. I have to go to work :(

[greenlyren12]

The Mask You Wear

Chapter II

Find Chapter I here

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, physical violence

word count: 3.1k

Summary: What type of feelings will your returning to King's landing bring out in you?

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

Where your Princess went you followed close behind, the strings of allegiance clinging to the flesh of your palms. 

Dragonstone had turned you into resilient woman, your fingertips as calloused as your character was. As if the waves had pummeled at your being instead at the shore cliffs. The romanticism of girlhood had departed from your soul years ago. Living transformed into existing, every month becoming grayer than the previous one.

Face swept by dragon fire and turned to cold stone. Experiences hardly moved you nowadays, violence bled into every corner of your lusterless life. You did what was expected of you, perform your duties and nothing more. Heart locked deep within, allowing no one the proximity of your intimacy.

Everything you cherished seemed to always slip from your grasp, so you cherished no more. Princess Rhaenyra the anchor of your existence. Her children you once cared for as if they were your own siblings, were now pushed away. As the oldest from the bunch, Jacaerys respected your wishes, whereas Luke had the difficulty to understand.

At first the stoicism you had ingrained in yourself by force wasn’t easy, but what was? Your once fond memories of your real family, little Aemond, had now faded. Little bits you remembered, pained you too greatly to be relived again.

Now standing behind your Princess, mind blank, you listened. As she was Informing her beloved children on the departure for King’s Landing, you felt a bolt in your heart.

You stilled, vigilant. Face an impenetrable wall but at your core you shook. The despised sorrow of feeling small filled your heart. As if immune to decision, you were flaunted around on a minute’s notice. Feeling like you were 13 again, fingers trembling, you stood silent.

Life had begun to feel normal again after years of endurance. Dragonstone was your home, now once again, you had to take your leave. The holes that the Red Keep had left in you, had been patched up with such precise care. A fortress now lied around your heart.  

You thought of how different things would be. Had it been years ago, you would’ve cowered in fear. Yet you remained quiet.

Aemond crossed your mind numerous times but you shoved it away. There were no possible reality in which you would allow yourself such feelings, after so many years. Only if you’d known that denying their existence was futile.

Anger poisoned your mind, caused by great fear of rejection. Could you face your Aemond?

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

The sail to the capital was troublesome. With each mile the weather seemed to worsen, grim clouds above your weary head. Situated on the bow of the ship, palms tied behind your back, you stared.  Children laughter echoed in your ears, longing in your eyes. The rhythmic waves, which rumbled below your feet, brought your thought to fond memories.

“How could I try to forget?”  Rang in your head.

A tear escaped your cold eyes and joined the mass of water below, forgotten.

The fear of what he was now seeped into your bones. Would he remember?

Doubt and salt made you sick, removing your gaze from the Castle in the horizon you faltered.

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

Being in your Princess’ chambers after such long time had the taste of nostalgia on your tongue. In contrast to Dragonstone’s cold colors, the Castle bristled with orange hues. Warm lights from lit candles, you took care of Rhaenyra’s moonlight locks.

Carefully putting each strand over the other, you exhaled. This task had become your favorite over the years, it helped you calm down your nerves. Being in such close proximity to the Princess gave you a piece of mind, though conversation always came to an end, due to your concentration. You enjoyed the quiet which you rarely had.

Now determination fueled your being, to not think about him. Putting all the care into fitting the Princess into her inky coloured dress.

Avoiding all eye contact, you attentively put a necklace around your Princess’ neck. Timidness was unlike you and she noticed.

“What’s the matter?” Giving you a crooked smile, Rhaenyra tenderly stroked your shoulder.  

“Nothing, my Princess.” Returning a forced one, eyes gluing to the ground below you once again.

Your Princess pushed no more, knowing you would not be honest.

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

Following behind your family, Rhaenyra and Daemon leading, you looked around the halls. The walls seemed to judge the change in you, they remained the same, unmoved.

With back straightened you entered the room last, King Viserys catching your eye first. Your King was rotting from the inside out, mask hiding the left side of his decaying face. He was brought in already in his chair, which was placed in the middle of the table.

Turning your head away to find your position, back facing the Royal family, you could feel it.

Taking your place by the wall, ready to assist your Princess, hands glued to your back, you gazed straight ahead.

He was clear in the corner of your eye. While everyone was busy with sitting on their places you found the bravery to look at him.

What was supposed to be a quick glance turned into a longing stare, your throat acting as a cage to your breath.

Your Prince sat right there, this was no little Aemond.

A man full grown, elongated face and sculpted jaw. Hair now twice the length it used to be, the strands which framed his handsome face kept in a knot behind. Eye concealed by a contrasting patch, lips formed a beckoning smile.

Violet eye already boring back at you, greed in his gaze. Jaw clenching, your Prince would not move. As if a sculpture carved out by the Gods themselves, he remained still, face illuminated by candles.

You felt naked, not in a dishonorable way for a lady of your position, but bare. Clean, as you came from your Mother’s womb. No walls and no shells remained unpenetrated by Aemond’s unwavering intent. Years spent to protect yourself, to constructing endless soul barricading layers. In spite of that, he now held you in the small of his palm, little and sincere.

The connection was too intense for you, especially during responsibility, so you broke the seal first.

Hard eyes set ahead of you, a shivering exhale left your lips. Seeing him in the edge of your eye, the devil had a smirk plastered across his enchanting features. He had bewitched you, in a trance you felt his pull to you.

He had grown a substantial amount, probably two heads above you. His childish clumsiness had transformed into an elegance that draped around his lean posture. The intensity you remember him containing deep inside was now plastered for all of Westeros to see. The hideous cut that used to slash trough the half of his face, now served as a menacing warning.

He was divine. A being closer to God, as the common folk said.

The next hour was spent in silent suffering, sweat breaking out on your forehead. It was clear your assistance would not be needed tonight, nevertheless your presence was obligated.

His Grace, the King moved you to tears with his speech. Peace was enjoyed for a few more blissful hours. Your heart fluttered at the sight in front of you. Tranquility quietly sat upon in the air, laughter accompanying it. The family you thought was shattered forever, seemed to succeed in being orderly.

Until a certain silver head decided to charge the air with tension. Jacaerys managed to put out Aegon’s assertions while Aemond’s one eye was on the mission to set your face on fire. But you dared not glance back, afraid of the repercussions.

Four servants entered the room with a roasted pig, decorated with goods served on a platter, and placed it in front of Aemond.

You knew it before it even began.

You felt the sweat between your limp fingers when they twitched with stress.

Luke laughed in the Prince’s direction and you shamed him in your mind for his lack of tact. You found it difficult to understand what humor the situation possessed. Giving the brunette boy a venomous look for disrespecting his uncle.

A hard slam on the wooden table made you jump in your place. Aemond was the focal point of attention. His hair swung forward, falling over the leather on his chest. Hunched over, fist firmly ingrained in the mahogany surface, eye clouded by malevolence. A predator seeking pray, Luke was a fool for tugging on his insecurities.

As if you were a rabbit in front of him, ready for him to swallow whole you froze in place.

“Final toast.” Aemond spat out.

It was the first time he honored the room with his voice. You shivered, velvet enlaced with callousness.

Though you could never possibly admit, you were proud of his speech. The kid you once knew, who came crying to you, was now grown and ready to defend. Never breaking the imposing image, cruel and precise he apparently managed to hit the right nerve in Jace.

The brunette hit first and Aemond’s reaction made something twist inside of you. Unwavering, piercing stare and a mocking laugh was all he graced Jacaerys with. As if to ridicule Rhaenyra’s oldest even more, he hit him off balance and made him fall.

If it weren’t for the years of practice you would not have been able to stifle your laugh. Yet Aemond had caught the glimpse in your eye, remembering it from all that time ago. He knew you from the inside out.

Daemon put the end to the conflict before it had escalated even more and Aemond took his leave.

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

After attending to the Princess’ nightly necessities, you were dismissed to your own chambers.

 Slowly crossing the Castle aisles, you took in everything around you. Comparing your memories to reality. A rare fondness set deep in you, allowing the ghost of a smile appear on your lips.

Until you heard the faint steps of someone behind you. Not too close but near enough for it to be intentional. You knew exactly who it was. Only one person in the Red Keep possessed that threatening intensity.

As if preying on you, he toyed. You could almost feel his wicked smile on the back of your neck.

You would enjoy yourself as well. Quickening your pace a bit, you strode in the dimly lit corridors.

“Hm.” A quiet, guttural sound was stated behind your back.

Something sick stirred your insides, shivers followed close. The amount of steps increasing behind you.

You wouldn’t dare turn your head, partially scared of what your eyes would see.

It excited you.

Stopping in front of your room’s doors you remained that way. A shadow following close behind, now right behind you.

A sigh escaped past your lips and in the drowning quietness it sounded as loud as bells.

Unsurely, you gradually turned on your hill to face your perpetrator.

A sinful smile plastered on his face followed by a half lidded probing eye welcomed you. The Prince studied you, trying to decipher the new persona you had put on.

“You’ve changed.” Silk out of his mouth.

“And you haven’t? My Prince.” A mischievous grin across your face.

“Don’t do that.” The man almost whined, gaze never leaving your lips. As if you pulled him by some otherworldly force, he came closer and had difficulty with constraint. A finger ghosted over your wrist.

“Careful, Aemond.” His name, honey leaking off your tongue for him.

He didn’t entertain you with an answer, just proceeded to intensify his already burning stare.

Granting his wish, you grasped him by the sleeve and pulled him inside your chambers. Now in the privacy provided by closed doors, only for the Gods to judge you, Aemond closed the space between you even more.

Not wanting to break, he allowed himself to put his hands below your elbows, gently holding you in place. Noses dancing in synchrony, inhaling each other, eye contact unbreakable, he spoke between the vulnerability of the two of you.

“Has there been anyone?” A firm whisper you swallowed.

“Only you.” Exhaling.

“It will always be you.”

A grunt from his chest escaped his throat. His palm climbed upward and spasmed on your skin when he registered your response.

“Please,” Desperation spilling from his gaze, which never left your mouth.

The softness you knew him by could be seen on his face now, a stark comparison to his escapades in the dining hall. The prince nudged your nose with his and marveled at you with fondness. As if you were a bird in his hard embrace, about to fly away any second.

The desire to trifle with him grew by the second. Cupping the side of his face, you positioned his lips by your cheek and you quietly said.

“Kiss me, Aemond”

The Prince planted his lips below your cheekbone with such sentiment you melted into his touch. Meeting his eye with a half lidded, lustful look you took a moment to take his beauty in.

“Kiss me.” Aemond almost childishly insisted. His hands gripped at your sleeves with whatever control remained in him.

You grabbed both sides of his face and planted a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. Your Prince granted you with a vexed look. You were getting to him.

All kind of courtesy had been thrown out the window now, his palm travelled up your arm and found its designated place. With a firm hold on your jaw, he angled your face upwards and enveloped your lips in a kiss. With his other arm he pressed your bodies even more, two fingers between your chin, he pulled away to look you dead in the eyes.

As if the start had been set or maybe it was the way you clung to him, he devoured you. Palm traversing to the base of your neck, forbidding distance. It was hungry, full of need. Teeth clunked and hands roamed. You found the back of his head and grabbed a fistful of silky hair, resulting in a moan from the man before you.

As if not by your own control you grinded against the leather of his pants. Lips never leaving yours, he clutched you by the hips and fixed you upon his thigh. Your moan was used as an entrance to go deeper into your mouth. Feeling a bite on your lip, you turned to liquid in his embrace. Pulling away for air, you gasped in each other’s faces, foreheads pressed together. You could not contain your adoration just for yourself anymore.

“You’re beautiful.” You muttered against his disheveled appearance.

Aemond growled and grabbed you below your ass, hands kneading at the flesh, mouth attacking below your ear. He started moving towards the cushions by your bed. Already drunk on his touch, every move made you squirm and whimper, which excited the beast who held you even more.

Your Prince gently placed you on top of a bunch of pillows. Continuing his attack on the front of your neck, sloppily marking you as his. Palm found the base of your breast and experimentally squeezed, followed by wanton moan from your mouth which rang in the air. Studying your reactions and committing everything to mind, every crevice and reaction. You were his treasure to explore.

Mouth travelling south, leaving sinful trails behind, Aemond paused and looked at you.

“Where did my nickname disappear, love?” He slyly remarked. Hands travelling below to bunch your skirts up.

“You think yourself little, my Prince?” You played his game.

Receiving a bite below your breast as an answer. Your hands clung to his hair, pulling and loving.

While Aemond took to tend to your other breast, twirling your nipple between slender fingers, he found himself under your chemise, pressing two digits against your core.

A lecherous moan fell from your mouth, lids closing.

“One would think you were excited to see me, my lady.” He huffed while bumping his knuckle against your clit.

“You’re already so excited.” Promiscuousness laced in his tone.

You were a tangled mess, huffing and breathing heavily, hands taped to his body, desperately trying to find friction.

“Please, Aemond.” You pleaded.

The Prince was close to receiving what he so desired.

“It is impolite to not use your words, my lady.”

You grabbed him by the collar around his neck and whispered into his mouth.

“Touch me, my Prince, it is unknown to you for how long I have desired this.” Kissing him hard as to prove your point.

It was all he needed.

“You will have to excuse me for the rudeness later, love” He plainly stated then proceeded to rip your dress open. Mouth latching to your already red nipples and giving it all the love it deserves.

He moved your undergarments aside and pressed a thumb to your pearl. All the moans and pleads which left your mouth spur him on more. Palm dug into your side, while he inserted a finger into you.

“I missed you so much” True sadness in his tone.

Finger pumped in and from your heat.

“And why is it you looked at me only once during dinner?”

His tongue travelled to the sensitive spot below your ear, sucking hard. Adding a second digit he continued massaging your clit.

No coherent thoughts were left inside your mind so an answer he did not receive. Feeling you clamp around his fingers, he pulled them out. A gasp of protest escaped you but you were quickly shut down. The digits which glistened with your arousal were now inside his mouth, savoring them.

“Sit up.” He commanded and you obliged your Prince.

He made you sit on his lap. Firm grasp on your hips held you down. His length prominent against your heat, you moved against him. Receiving a hiss, you perked up against Aemond even more.

“I want to watch you come undone on top of me,” Placing a hand on your chin making you look him in the eye. “..and for you to look me in the eye”

Anchoring on his slender shoulders, you started grinding against his thigh. Your mewls fusing with his grunts, he kissed you sloppily. It didn’t take you long to come close, so you latched off his mouth, cupped his cheek.

“I need you, my Aemond.” You puffed, out of breath.

You reached your peak and collapsed on top of him. Trying to catch your breath, you stroked silver strands which fell over his chest. Feeling whole again, as if life had color again.

“You will always have me.” Your Prince longfully expressed.

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

Taglist: @dudfahsn @jeyramarie @stillinracooncity @rapoficeandfire @poohxlove @bobamai1

[mc-lukanette]

The TV studio's hallway was extremely quiet, save for the sound of Luka and Marinette's footsteps as they walked side by side. Luka occasionally glanced over at her to watch her looking around, but left her to her thoughts in case he might interrupt an epiphany of some kind.

When she'd initially lost her memory, it was sudden and had shocked everyone. No one seemed to know exactly why she'd lost it, though it also looked like she wasn't getting it back either.

People were quick to assume that she'd had a bad fall and hit her head, due to her clumsiness, but there'd been no actual injury to speak of. Luka, meanwhile, had his own theories that came with the knowledge he had.

After all, it hadn't escaped his notice that the earrings had disappeared at the same time she'd lost her memory. He'd been worried at first, afraid that someone had stolen her miraculous and somehow erased her memory at the same time, yet he'd never gotten any malicious vibes from the new ladybug whenever he saw them on TV. That'd just made everything stranger, and he was simultaneously offended at the idea that Marinette might've been considered "not good enough" and thus been replaced, with her memories taken as a result.

He wished he'd known more. Perhaps he would've been able to help had he told Marinette that he knew her identity, but it was too late for regrets.

On the other hand, despite everything, he couldn't say with certainty that Marinette losing her memory was a bad thing. Even though it worried her how much of her memory she might've lost, she was actually happier than she was before. Luka didn't doubt that Ladybug's job was hard, but she'd also separated herself from most of her friends after the loss, so he thought it would've evened out. He didn't know the details, but although her memories were gone, she seemed strangely uncomfortable around them and even avoided them at times. Even Adrien, who he was convinced that she was head over heels in love with, became someone she avoided at a level beyond discomfort and without any sign of an actual crush.

The one exception, much to his confusion, was himself. He didn't know enough about her life or her relationships, but when she met him "again," her eyes had lit up and she gravitated towards him like it was natural to her. He didn't understand it, and any reason he could come up with made him feel egotistical.

That didn't stop him from blushing whenever he thought about it though.

Regardless, Marinette's memory loss was what led him there, walking with her in the TV studio. Penny had gotten them in, with the idea that Marinette visiting familiar places might jog her memory in some way. Luka honestly hadn't been sure that it was a good idea, but changed his tune when he saw how Marinette reacted to being told that the memory they were trying to revive was related to him. He didn't feel like he had a good enough reason to deny her of something she wanted anyway.

They headed towards the double doors to the familiar stage where Kitty Section had played together. Marinette had spent two weeks working on their outfits, after all, and he hoped that it was a fond memory for her just as much as a long one.

He pushed the doors open, memories rushing back to his own mind as he stared out at where he'd performed. He smiled as he recalled the sound, the lighting, the rush of excitement, and Marinette's eyes on him as he played.

Passing through the doorway, he only took a few steps before he felt Marinette's hand on his wrist.

"W-wait!"

He stopped, turning his head to see her looking deep in thought, her eyes darting around at nothing in particular. He glanced around, noting the position they were in and remembering immediately what'd happened there. Even the position of Marinette's hand was similar.

She stared at the hand on his wrist, then back at his face with her lips parted just slightly. Slowly, she let go, only to grab his shoulders and turn him fully to face her. She then backed up a step, squinting in contemplation before grabbing his right hand and guiding it to rest on her shoulder.

Luka said nothing, but swallowed as his heart skipped a beat. She'd never reacted like that to anywhere else they've been.

She paused for a few seconds longer, then gasped suddenly and covered her mouth. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

"...Sorry?" He tilted his head, completely puzzled. "For what, Marinette?"

"I confessed to you here, didn't I?" she asked. "We were dating before I lost my memory and I even forgot?!"

"What?" He blushed and turned fully to her, arms raised in alarm. "No, Marinette, that's not what happened at all!"

She hesitated, brows furrowing in confusion, then lowered her hands from her mouth. "R-really?"

He nodded. "Why would you think that?"

She looked away, eyes distant and considering, then brought her hands down to her heart. "R-right here. I...I don't know what happened, but I feel like I realized something..." Her gaze turned fond. "Love; that's the feeling I get when I stand here with you. I realized love."

"Ah—" Luka turned speechless. He tried to form words - any words - but there was so much music playing in his head that he felt like he'd just be exhaling an orchestra if he got anything out.

Marinette, meanwhile, frowned at the reaction. "Oh. So, I didn't confess?"

He detected distinct disappointment in her voice, only making his heart spin further.

"What happened then?" she asked, stepping forward urgently.

He blinked, still mentally reeling. "What?"

"I need to know," she explained, hands clenched into fist. "What happened, Luka? Did something happen here with you?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then mentally debated with himself. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her, though he also had to convince himself that maybe she wouldn't understand his metaphors regardless.

Managing to pull himself back from his surprise, he answered, "Well, it was after I was de-akumatized."

She nodded, listening intently to him and fidgeting with her fingers.

"I was about to play a concert with the rest of Kitty Section, but you stopped me for a bit. You asked me if I meant what I said when I was akumatized, but no one ever remembers what happens when they're an akuma."

"I can relate," she chimed in lightheartedly.

He snorted, happy that she found a bit of humor in her memory loss.

"What then?" she pressed. "That can't be it."

Slowly, he continued, "I was worried I might've said something mean, so I wanted you to know what you meant to me. I told you that you were as clear as a music note, sincere as a melody, and that you were the song that's been stuck in my head since the day we met."

For a moment, he could've sworn that she'd mouthed the last few words, like a mind that'd forgotten a song but a body that could still tap a few notes of it.

Marinette was quiet at first, then stared fondly at him with her eyes half-lidded. Her cheeks turned pink and she dropped her gaze to the floor, gently clutching her chest with both hands.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Yeah, that's it. It felt just like that."

Luka had the sudden urge to clutch his own chest, but he resisted, keeping his now-twitching hands at his sides. He didn't even have his guitar, but he definitely should've. He wanted to play so many melodies for her.

"...But—" Her eyebrows rose in what seemed like realization. "Wait."

She dropped her hands and looked back up at him, pouting despondently. He frowned, wordlessly asking her what's wrong.

"You...you said we weren't dating?"

He nodded lamely. "We weren't."

"Why?" She asked, as if she was trying to solve some sort of grand mystery.

His mouth felt dry at how genuinely confused she sounded. "You were in love with Adri—" He saw her face sour at the mere utterance of that name, so he stopped himself. "...someone who wasn't me."

"That's not what my heart says," she argued, averting her gaze and shifting on her feet. "That's not what it remembers."

Luka said nothing, but he vividly recalled the day he was told about Marinette's memory loss. He remembered seeing her, standing there with Juleka and Rose. Her heart song was there, but it was confused, in tatters. It was a still-beautiful song yet with missing instruments.

Then, she'd seen him, and it changed. It shifted into something more akin to curiosity and it called to him; reached for him.

Her mind didn't remember him, but her heart did. It was just as she'd said.

"...I don't love him now," Marinette dared to let out. "If I loved him before, then I was stupid. That's all there is to it."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, torn between chiding her for calling herself stupid and processing what she was implying outside of that. The atmosphere had grown thick with emotion.

"Luka." She reached out, taking his hands in hers. "Do you still feel that way about me?"

His emotions were a tornado, yet his mouth replied automatically, "I'd never feel anything else."

She squeezed his hands. "Then, will you give me a second chance?" she asked hopefully, seemingly unaware of the parallel she just made to his superhero self. "It's not too late to reply to your confession? I-it was a confession, right?"

"It was," he confirmed, again automatically.

She brightened at that in an instant, undeniably happy. "Luka..."

She drew nearer to him, with him becoming extremely aware of the fact that her face was closer to his than it'd ever been before. Her hands were firmly on his, having no intent on letting go.

Deep down, he knew he didn't mind.

She was so close. Her song was loud. Her eyes were closed as she leaned in.

Yet, just before her lips touched his, he flinched and grabbed hold of her upper arms. Gently pushing her away, he stepped back and averted his gaze from her, pained.

He could hear her falter with the small noise that she made, and that alone conveyed how hurt she was by the movement.

"I'm sorry, Marinette," he said. "I'd love to, really, but..."

Her hands came up to grab his wrists, though she didn't force them off. "But what? I thought...I thought you said you—?"

"I do, but it wouldn't be right."

Her grip twitched, then slowly began to loosen. When she spoke up again, her voice had lost all of its cheer. "Because I don't have my memories?"

He stared quietly off the wall in response. Even when he tried to open his mouth to reply properly, nothing came out.

"...Oh." Her grip loosened completely, her hands falling back to her sides. "I...I understand. I'm sorry."

His eyes darted back to her, but she'd already turned to walk away from him, his hands leaving hers in the process. The sudden distance between them made him feel anxious, his hand jutting out to grab her wrist again. "Marinette—"

His voice died out as she instinctively glanced back at him from the contact. Her eyes were watery, tears forming at the edges. She must've realized it too with how quickly she looked away.

She then laughed, though it was an extremely bitter one. "S-sorry, this... I don't know why I'm doing this. I feel like this is what rejection is, but it's not like you rejected me. Y-you love Marinette - you said so - and it's just that—"

Her song broke as she let out a sob. Luka cringed at the sound; it was like a guitar being thrown to the ground and splinters of wood scattering all over the floor.

"I-I'm not Marinette."

"That's not—" He froze, still in a state of shock. Words were spontaneously harder to come up with than before. "You are."

"But not enough," she retorted, her free hand coming up to rub at her face. "What's a Marinette without any memories? A fraction. A shadow. A shell."

"Don't talk like that," he begged, a firmness in his voice that wasn't there before.

She said nothing, continuing to avoid eye contact while standing there silently. She weakly tried to tug her wrist away from his hand, but he held firm, knowing she didn't mean it.

He considered, understanding how delicate the situation was, then explained, "I'd be taking advantage of you. I'm flattered that you feel this way—" He briefly choked, realizing that it really did sound like a rejection. "—but you don't know how you'll feel when you get your memories back."

"If I get my memories back," she corrected.

He knew she was right. There was no guarantee that she'd get her memories back, and the closest they'd gotten so far was what they were experiencing right now. She could remember one day, or she might never. He had little evidence for the former whereas the memory loss being miraculous-related seemed to point to the latter since it was a magical force.

"You think I'm confused," Marinette stated. When he didn't reply, she asked, "Does my song sound confused to you?"

Luka knew the answer even before he listened to pay closer attention, as he'd been paying attention the whole time he'd been with her. Her song wasn't confused at all. If anything, it was clearer than ever before; the difference between scattered sheet music across a table and sheet music put into a neat pile.

"...Luka, please let go of my wrist," she told him, her voice barely a whisper. "Please, I want to hold onto the good feelings. I want you to stay the light of my life, even if I can't be around you until I'm Marinette again." She sniffled, voice cracking. "Please..."

He felt her trying to pull away from his hold once again and he refused, tightening his hold enough to let her know that they weren't done.

"Please don't ever say that again." He took a breath, running his thumb along her wrist as a form of apology. "You're right. Your song never changed. It's just louder, clearer and more beautiful than ever. I'm not doubting your feelings and I haven't for even a second."

"T-then why? You don't have to lie to make me—"

He pulled her in, turning her towards him and hugging her against his chest. Her hands were gripping his jacket, hesitant and possibly unsure if she could hug back. He was patient, merely focusing on her breaths against him.

"I love you," he confessed. "My feelings have only gone in crescendo since we met again at the Liberty. I—" He shook, Marinette clutching the fabric of his jacket harder as if to encourage him to go on. "It's just hard to believe that this is happening - that I'm this lucky - and I didn't want you feeling tied to me if you got your memories back."

He heard her inhale, likely to retort, but he embraced her tighter to reassure her.

"I didn't think about anything else, and definitely not what you want now. I just wanted you to have whatever makes you happy." He breathed up when she buried her face into his neck, silently committing the sensation to memory. "Your heart can't lie, and I shouldn't be lying to myself either if it's singing for mine. I love you, Marinette, so much."

She shuddered against him, her hands finally releasing his jacket so her arms could wrap carefully around him instead.

"I-I love you too, Luka."

His heart was pounding rapidly, which he could tell by the way she giggled over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

"...Luka?" she murmured hesitantly. After he'd hummed to assure that he was listening, she continued, "Have you ever forgotten a song?"

"Forgotten a song?"

"Yeah. Like, you've forgotten the notes, so you don't know how it sounds anymore, but then you hear the title, or you get just a hint of the tune, and you remember how the song makes you feel." She nestled against him. "That's what this is like. I might not have my memories, but I have my feelings. It's just—someone muted the volume, so I had some silence to think about how I felt about those songs."

She brought a hand up to stroke his neck. Almost involuntarily, he relaxed, leaning into the touch.

"I missed yours. I didn't miss Adrien's. Sure, maybe I had some big, magical moment that made me fall for him, but when I forgot about everything, there was just... you. I didn't remember you, but I remembered that someone made me feel special and loved and like I mattered. It all came together when I saw you." She slid her hand further upwards, idly running her fingers through the strands of his hair that met his neck. "And even if I get my memories back, that doesn't mean things will go back to how they were before. I won't forget this. I'll remember how I felt, right here, and how much I wanted to kiss you."

He loosened his hold when he felt her shift, though she only pulled away enough to cup his face in her hands.

"So you can be a little selfish, Luka. I'm giving you permission." She pulled him down so their faces were closer. "I want you to kiss me. Don't think about if my memories will come back; think about how much you want this and how much my song is singing for it."

He needed no other orders from her than that. They shared a long, overdue kiss that they both put all their passion into like they'd been waiting for it forever, even though one of them didn't have the memories to do so.

Because the feelings were there, which was all that mattered, and he embraced every single one.

[itsdanii]

I'm in the middle of reading all ur works but I'm impatient because UR AMAZING LUV 😩✨ the transition from angst to fluff *chefs kiss* *salt bae's sprinkle* UGHHH sooo 👉🏻👈🏻 I'm just wondering if its possible to write a fan turned in to wife with bokuto and oikawa 🥺 ITS OKAY TO IGNORE THIS IF IT SEEMS COMPLICATED TO WRITE AJDHAKWPWODNDIE,, TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF LUV!!! 💗

Hey, bub. Thank you so much for reading and loving my works 🥺 HOW CAN I IGNORE SUCH GOOD REQUEST, HM?! It would be an honor to do it! I just hope I did it right and gave it justice though 😭 Anyway, here's your request, bub! I hope you like it. Have a good day, stay safe and stay hydrated! ♥️

Number 1 supporter

genre: fluff

warnings: manga spoilers, message me if i missed any

a/n: italicized paragraphs in bokuto's part are all flashbacks. read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. timeskip!oikawa tooru, timeskip!bokuto koutaro

curious on how to thank your number 1 fan? that's simple. just give them a ring, your family name, and you're all good to go.

Oikawa Tooru

You screamed on top of your lungs as your boyfriend, Oikawa Tooru, managed to get another perfectly landed spike.

People were roaring, drums were beating and the players were beyond exhausted but not once did their defense nor offense falter. Every spike, every block and every drop was worth the point. With their adrenaline putting them on top of their game, both teams played as if their life depended on it.

And in the end, Oikawa's team managed to secure their victory.

With a giant smile on his face, Oikawa searched the crowd as soon as their winning point was received, and despite the number of people shouting and cheering for his name, yours was only one he could hear perfectly.

There you were, in the middle of the crowd, wearing his spare jersey while holding a handmade poster of his perfectly written name.

The sight of you brought him a lot memories and he can't help but thank god for giving him the opportunity of meeting you, and at this moment, he knew that this was it.

This was the perfect time and there's no way he's going to let it pass.

After shaking each other's hand, Oikawa quickly made his way to the back of the gym. He took a quick shower, changed into some fresh clothes and with shaky hands, took the purple box he had in his bag.

He made his way back to the court where he was instantly crowded with the media. Flashes of lights surrounded him and several microphones were almost shoved at his face.

With a chuckle, Oikawa scratched the back of his head and tightened his grip on the box he was holding.

"Mr. Oikawa, you were amazing back there. You seemed almost unstoppable. What drived you to perform at the best of your game today?" one reporter asked.

Out of all the questions from the interviewers, that was the one that caught his attention. Turning to face the said reporter, he took the microphone which made the reporter blush immensely.

"Well, of course, I always do my best. I'm always the best," he said which earned a chuckle from the other reporters. "But since you're asking what drived me to be at my top performance, I'd say that it was probably this person-"

You squealed as Oikawa tugged at your hand, effectively pulling you out of the crowd and to his side. You blushed at the action and hid your face to his chest in embarrassment, his hand immediately rubbing circles on your back as he grinned.

"Sorry, guys. It seems like my dear y/n-chan is still quite camera shy."

You grunted against his chest and lightly hit his arm, a quiet mumble of "shut up," slipping past your lips.

"But seriously, out of everyone that cheered for me, this person right here-" Oikawa paused for a moment, his hand angling your face to look up at him before he continued, "-was the one whose cheers never failed to reach me, and since we're already here, I want to take the opportunity to ask them a very important question."

Murmurs filled the court as the star player went down on his knee and looked at you with a nervous smile. There, in front of you, was Oikawa Tooru holding a ring with hope in his eyes.

You felt your eyes tearing up and you instinctively brought a hand to your lips. "Tooru..." you whispered with a shaky voice.

"Y/n-chan, you've been my number one supporter since highschool. Don't you think it's about time you get promoted?" he said with a teasing voice, "I can still even remember the way you fainted when I accidentally aimed a ball towards the stand and hit your stomach. God, as rude as it may sound right now, I'll never regret and forget that day. I mean, how can I? Iwa-chan scolded me for the whole day and ordered me to apologize to your fan group," Oikawa added with a fond smile as if he was envisioning the situation inside his mind.

"You didn't leave when I was at my lowest point, but instead stayed beside me when almost everyone had their backs turned against me. You were there in every matches we won, in every matches we lost to, and in every milestone that I got. You accepted the challenges of being in a distance relationship with me despite the doubts, insecurities and countless possibilities surrounding us. Heck, you even followed me here in Argentina after you graduated." With his free hand, Oikawa wiped the tears now trailing down his cheek, his voice becoming shaky with every passing second. "You were always there and I don't know what I'd do if I never have met you. So now, I'm asking you, can you not only be my number one supporter but also my wife?"

You instantly nodded your head, your figure now trembling as you cried out of happiness. "Yes, yes," you answered repeatedly.

With a relieved sigh, Oikawa slipped the ring on your finger and stood up. He enveloped you in his arms, burrying his face to the side of your neck as he tightened his embrace. "Thank you. I love you so much, baby. I promise I'll be the best husband. I won't let you down," he murmured against your skin before pulling away to stare at your eyes. "I love you."

You leaned to his hand when he cupped your cheeks, eyes almost closing at the soothing feeling of his touch. "I love you, my Tooru."

Your lips slowly met each other's. Your arms encircling his neck while his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

And as the flashes of cameras captured this moment, Tooru thanked his lucky stars for bringing you to him.

Bokuto Koutaro

Bokuto heaved out a relieved sigh as he stepped inside your apartment. Making sure to close the door behind him, he carefully made his way to the bedroom where his face immediately lit up at the sight of you sleeping while wearing one his shirts.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading to the shower since he didn't want to go to bed smelling like "sweat and rubber" as what you like call it.

With his head casted downwards, he allowed the water to drip down his body, a pleasant feeling enveloping him at the feel of the hot water relieving his tense muscles. Bokuto then noticed his wedding ring which he forgot to take off before he entered the shower. Well, it's not like he wanted to take it off in the first place anyway.

As he stared at the ring in his hand, he couldn't stop the fond smile from making its way to his face. Several scenarios started playing in his mind but the one he always loved getting back to was the day he first met you.

-

"Cheer up Bokuto-san," Konoha said as he gave Bokuto a pat on the back.

The team have been trying to cheer Bokuto up for almost half an hour now. The white haired male was currently seated in between two narrow walls, his hair casted downwards and a pout playing on his lips.  "I don't wanna," he mumbled childishly before looking away.

"What happened?" Akaashi, who was still panting, asked as soon as he entered the gym.

Konoha crossed his arms over his chest, giving a quick glance at Bokuto before shifting his gaze to Akaashi. "He's been like that since we started the second set of the practice match. He said that he can't spike anymore unless its you who's going to toss for him," Konoha answered with a frustrated groan. "We did everything we can. The rest is up to you."

Akaashi nodded in understanding before making his way to their captain. "Bokuto-san, let's go. Something came up so I was late but I'm here now. I'll toss for you so can you cheer up now?"

As Bokuto was about to answer, a sudden yell echoed throughout the whole gymnasium.

"Cheer up Bokuto senpai! You're the best captain and ace so please don't give up! You can do it!"

It was a feminine voice. A feminine voice yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

Bokuto looked at the bleachers and immediately spotted your figure. He can't help but grin at your determined look, you had a big smile on your face and a poster in your hand despite the game not being an official match.

Everyone was in awe as they watched their captain stood up, a sudden boost of confidence enveloping him as he puffed out his chest. "Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed with a booming voice, his hand pointing towards your direction before he flashed an almost award winning smile.

That was the first time they witnessed their captain cheering up because of someone that wasn't Akaashi.

From that day on, Bokuto would always scan the crowd and look for you, and not once have you ever failed in showing up.

It wasn't long then when the two of you finally talked, thanks to Akaashi's efforts. It was actually Akaashi who first invited you personally to watch one of their official matches.

Bokuto couldn't do it because despite his personality, he would always feel his panic rising at thought of inviting you himself. So, the solution? Whine continuously to Akaashi until he gives up and do it for him. Fortunately, it worked.

Everything went smooth sailing after that.

But even if your relationship with each other progressed, you still remained as his number 1 fan. You would still make posters and give him gifts everytime they win. In exchange, Bokuto would always do his best and give you the biggest hug as soon as each matches finish.

A few years forward, Bokuto became an official player of the MSBY black jackals. You were the first person he celebrated it with and the person who encouraged him to continue playing in order to achieve his dreams.

You became his anchor and his strength, the person he would run to whenever he was doubting himself and everytime he needed someone to hold him.

It was then during their victory party against the Adlers when Bokuto finally realized that you were really the one for him. As he watched you dance and laugh with his teammates, he got the feeling that he shouldn't let you go anymore.

You were it for him.

-

"I was looking for you," you said with a pout as you balanced yourself on your boyfriend's arm, your vision hazy and voice slurry due to the alcohol in your system.

Bokuto tightened his hold on your waist, his eyes scanning over your drunk figure as you basically clung to him like a baby. "Sorry, baby. I had to go buy something real quick, couldn't stop myself."

"Mhmm," you hummed, obviously not getting anything from what he said. "Carry me, please... Wanna go home."

Without any objections, Bokuto leaned down to scoop you in his arms and then placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before carrying you all the way to the car.

When you woke up, the smell of pancakes was the first thing you noticed. You stood up and padded your way to the kitchen where you saw Bokuto cooking with his back turned against you.

One of your eyebrows shot up as you heard him grumbling something inaudible. Silently, you sneaked your way to him and suddenly wrapped your arms around him from the back.

Bokuto jumped up in surprise before turning around. He quickly covered your eyes as he said in a panic voice, "Baby! Don't look at the pancake yet, okay? Go take a seat. I'm still not done."

"Hmm, you seem suspicious but alright," you answered with his hand still covering your eyes. You pouted your lips and smiled when you felt him giving you a short kiss before guiding you to the table.

Once he was finished, you rose an eyebrow at the nervous look on his face while holding the plate filled with pancakes. "You okay, baby?" you asked in concern.

Your boyfriend only nodded before carefully placing the stack in front of you.

A small flower was neatly placed on the side but what caught your attention was the message written out of chocolate syrup on top of the pancake.

MARRY ME?

"Kou?" you whispered before taking your eyes off your breakfast.

What you saw next was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Because as soon as you looked at him, Bokuto went on his knee and opened a small box, revealing an expensive ring that you'll soon be wearing. "I'm sorry if I only wrote marry me on the pancake. It wasn't big enough to write the whole 'will you marry me?' and that's why I'm here, down on my knee, to ask you directly."

Despite your tears, you can't help but giggle at the rhyming in his words. "You got that idea from Akaashi, didn't you?"

Bokuto pouted before mumbling a small "Dont interrupt me."

Seeing you nod, he continued, "Baby, we've been together for several years now and yet we're still here - going strong without any intent of separating any time soon. You were the first person who was able to cheer me up without Akaashi's help and the only person who caught my attention by shouting during one of our matches." He chuckled shortly before proceeding, "You've always been there to support me. You're my number one fan, my number one supporter and the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. I know that sometimes I'm not easy to deal with but still, I'm going to take my chance. To my number one fan, will you marry me?"

Bokuto stared at you in anticipation, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his head as he waited patiently for your answer. The moment he heard you saying yes, he immediately felt as if he was the luckiest man in the world.

Slipping the ring on your finger, he stood up and pressed his forehead against yours. "Thank you, thank you, baby. Love you so much," he said repeatedly as he showered your face with kisses.

-

"Kou, are you done yet?"

Your voice brought him out from his daydreaming. Scanning the area around him, Bokuto chuckled as he realized that he was still inside the shower.

He then turned the water off and dried himself before wrapping a towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just remembered something important," he said as he walked over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead and murmuring a low apology for taking too long.

"Wanna tell me about it?" you asked in a sleepy voice as you both settled yourself on the bed.

Bokuto wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his hand slipping inside your shirt to rub circles on the small strip of skin on your spine knowing how much it helps you fall asleep faster.

"I'll tell you next time about it, okay? Go back to sleep." Bokuto watched as your eyelids fluttered close, your breathing soon evening out and your lips parting slightly to allow small amounts of air in.

"You already know about it anyway, my number one fan," he whispered as he soon also closed his eyes, letting the sound of your breathing lull him to sleep.

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a/n: likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[fromcenotaphy]

hbo wayward sisters tho *dreamy sigh* i meannn [four girls sitting in an idling car outside a dive bar] [their faces lit pink and orange by the neon signage, their skin flecked with shadows from the raindrops on the windshield] [Patience dropping to one knee as a vision hits her with the force of a speeding train] [Alex performing triage in Jody’s kitchen by the light of a glimmering fluorescent bulb] [the open road at noon, everything limned in white-gold at the edges] [shots of the four of them standing by a cliff’s edge to watch the sunrise, their breaths puffing pale in cold morning air] [Kaia’s powers growing uncontrollably until the tiniest scrap of sense memory is enough to jolt her in and out of dimensions] [identical anti-possession sigils inked onto their ribs] [someone’s bloody tracks trailing through the new-fallen snow] [vampire pack hunting Alex through the hospital corridors at 4 am] [Claire smoking a cigarette beside an open grave] [at any given time at least one person has bloody knuckles] [Dark Kaia watching a meteor shower from the skeleton roof of a half-constructed suburban McMansion] [knife fights in damp alleys and abandoned campsites] [whispering urgently for each other in the subterranean darkness of a wendigo lair] [Kaia walking into a djinn dream to pull Jody out of the illusion, easy as blinking] [Claire putting her own arm back into its socket] [always approaching each other from the front or side because they know better than to come up from behind] [Donna tossing a bloodied pistol over a bridge rail, into the black water below] [Patience garroting a wraith with a coil of silver wire] [newspaper clippings and old photographs tacked to a corkboard in the garage] [rinsing blood out of each other’s hair] [Kaia with her fingertips curled into Claire’s sleeve because it’s the only thing keeping her anchored to this plane] [latin exorcisms scrawled on flashcards and post-it notes] [sparring sessions in the backyard at odd hours] [coughing up blood into the kitchen sink] [matching tattoos to celebrate successful hunts] [BMoL operatives trying to extract the last scraps of Castiel’s grace from Claire] [Alex driving a truck through the wall of a nightclub] [Jody sorting bullets at the dining room table] [Patience flicking through parallel universes like pages, searching for the unmistakable flicker of Kaia’s psyche] [strange runes smeared red onto tree trunks and cellar walls] [the darkness of deep woods at night] [Claire’s eyes guttering with weak silver light as she smites the demon that was about to cut Kaia’s throat] [twine bracelets knotted with warding charms] [linen closet of pilfered medical supplies] [pages and pages of lore notes in Patience’s perfect handwriting] [sleeping in shifts because if they dream at the same time Kaia will accidentally mesh their nightmares together] [snowy winter evenings spent sprawled on the living room floor, throwing marshmallows at each other] [cherry wood burning in the fireplace, salt lines along all the windowsills] [Kaia’s head pillowed on Claire’s shoulder, Alex laughing at a joke, Patience’s fond smile]

[holy-guacamoly]

For as long as we live

So after an eternity, I am returning to obsessing over animes and writing fanfictions. I missed this. Since I kinda forgot how all of this works - please bear with me. :')

Levi x fem!reader

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Comfort

Warnings: spoilers, angst, mention of death, grief, swearing,

Setting: Canon verse II You are Isabel Magnolia's sister/half-sister/ adoptive sister (whatever suits you best)

Three months. It has been three months since fate decided to plunge its sharp thangs into your chest and rip your heart out.

Life never has been kind. You were born into mere darkness. Left alone before even being able to form a coherent thought. But this...This was something even you couldn't bear.

The pale moonlight covered your silhouette in a cold, bitter light while you were curled up on your bed. Clinging onto a piece of fabric, holding it tight to your face. You inhaled the scent, which was just a phantom at this point. After all this time the sweet, well-known fragrance has of course vanished. But there was nothing else left to remind you. Even the features of this lovely face you so adored, slowly disappeared before your inner eye. A sob escaped your lips.

Luckily your roommate left for an exhibition a few days ago, so you had the tiny room all by yourself. She was tired of you crying every damn night anyways. Well, you were tired of yourself too, so you couldn't blame her.

At lonely nights like these, you often began to wonder. Why did you join the Survey Corps in the first place? You would be better off back in the underground, where you belonged. Between all those other rotten individuals.

A weak sigh lingered on your lips, while you slowly peeled your heavy body from the sheets. You stared at the soft apricot-colored bundle you held in your hands. It was a blouse.

"Damn, Isabel...I fucking miss you." you exhaled while your hands rose to put the fabric against the delicate skin of your cheek. It was the blouse your sister always used to wear as a civilian, long before you joined the Survey Corps. A weak smile appeared on your lips while fond memories of Isabel crept into your mind.

With the soothing pictures building up in your imagination you let yourself fall back into the pillow and thrift of to a restless slumber.

____________________________________________________________

Isabel and Farlan weren't the only people you lost that day. Levi avoided you like the plague after the incident. Whenever he sensed your presence, he brought as much space between the two of you as possible. This slashed another wound in your heart. The raven-haired was more than important to you. Since all of you were orphans, abandoned, you just became very attached to each other. After a while, you would even describe the four of you as a weird but functioning family.

At first, you thought isolation was his way of grieving, but as the weeks passed he still ignored you or showered you with glares at best. You accepted the pure hatred he must have felt for you since then. Even accepting it as sick salvation for your sins. You understood why he despised you.

So you weren't too happy when your commander announced that the two of you were on night duty for watching a recently captured titan. Hange was eager to perform some experiments on the creature. It was an important step for solving humanity's greatest mystery, but it was also a great pain in everyone's ass.

The cadets had to take turns watching that monster since Hange was beyond scared that something could happen to their precious baby.

You sighed while looking at the motionless titan below your feet, standing on top of the improvised framework that caged the creature. The titan itself was struck down with an endless number of ropes while huge nails drilled into its skin.

The clear sky was illuminated by the soothing moonlight. The humid warmth of a regular summer night embraced your body. A few torches were lit around the enclosure. Their intense fire, offering an enjoyable contrast to the cold moonlight. Silence filled everything around you.

Your eyes wandered from the titan to the person standing on the other side of the framework. Levi stared blankly into the sky, not giving away a single emotion. He didn't seem to even acknowledge your presence.

Another soft sigh escaped your lips. Nothing exciting ever happened during these patrols. The shift had just started an hour ago and you were already bored to the core. "Luckily" the icy tension between Levi and yourself kept things spicy.

Quietly cursing you let yourself sink onto the wooden plank, lying down, also letting your gaze rest on the big glowing orb above you. While you were repeating your unhealthy pattern of thoughts, you could at least do it while enjoying the beautiful view.

"Oi! You know, you are supposed to work. I'm not going to watch this titan by myself. Get your ass up!" a very familiar voice yelled. It felt so foreign hearing it again, talking directly to you. You scoffed. Levi has been ignoring you for all this time and this was the first thing he had to say? "Oh, it can talk!" you snapped back, still not moving an inch. You pressed your eyes shut as hard as you could, to contain the hot pit of anger in your stomach.

"I said, get your ass up."

You shuddered. Levi's voice was now lingering right over your face. You opened your eyes only to stare into his, just a few inches away. His body crouching over yours.

With an angry chuckle, you said, "Are you some fucking ninja? Stop creeping up on my like th-"

Before you were even able to finish the sentence Levi grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to stay on your feet. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Don't touch me!" you hissed, wrestling yourself out of his grip. Of course, Levi was stronger than you, but he always used to let you win during playfights in the past. Which made you even more furious when you noticed. This time seemed to be no different.

"Tch. Always so angry." For the fraction of a second, you could have sworn that a small smirk appeared on the lips of your counterpart.

This was too much. It was no secret that you always had a fiery personality with zero bullshit tolerance. His sudden interaction and the mocking let your brain snap into a state of survival.

"Yeah, you know it's hard not to be angry while looking at your punchable, ugly-ass face! You are not my superior, so stop acting like you are better than me!" you exclaimed, hands curling up into fists, leaving white marks on your knuckles.

Levi rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "I am just not willing to do this shitty task by myself, while you take a nap. Stop being such a brat." He sounded calm, but you knew him well enough. Maybe the stoic man could fool someone else but not you. There was a hint of rage in his words. A loud ringing drilled through your head, while the intensity of your emotions built up even further.

"I am a brat? Are you serious, Levi?" His name dripped from your mouth like venom. "I am not the one giving out silent treatments, like a pouting child! Do you even listen to yourself? You chose not to talk to me for months and the first thing you have to say is this bullshit!" You didn't tend to let this conversation go this way, but everything just poured from your tongue. There wasn't any self-control left. Now Levi's face also formed a grimace of pure hatred. The sharp light of the torches around you formed deep shadows on his forehead, making him look even more terrifying. Since the day you met, you always managed to break his cool deminer and bring out the worst in him. He despised you deeply for that matter of fact.

With a growl, he answered, "Fuck you, idiot! That had nothing to do with you!"

"How can this have nothing to do with me?!" you screamed, sounding like a wounded dog by now. "You ignoring me is my business! So don't you dare to tell me otherwise! I know I fucked up, Levi! I know! But even I don't deserve this!" Your voice cracked a little bit.

You expected the young man to directly shoot hurtful phrases back at you. But to your surprise, you saw his furious expression smoothing into a....soft one? A surprised one maybe? Your chest rose heavily from all the screaming. Breathing was so loud, you thought the whole city was able to hear it.

"You....fucked up? What...What are you talking about?" Levi asked, back to a calmer tone. This question struck you like a punch to the stomach. It made you nauseous. What wasn't there to understand? Was he up to some cruel joke?

"I..." you began to stammer, while you felt all the fury flush out of your body. Before you could get more caught up in your muttering, you felt Levi's hand on your shoulder. The touch burnt like a million little fires. Now completely back to a warm tone he said, "This isn't your fault." You liked to think this kind of warmth when speaking was only reserved for you.

"What if it is?" you whispered so that only he was able to hear it. Levis's grip on your shoulder tightened.

"If I would have been more cautious, this titan would have never been able to get me. I would have never been wounded and they..." you stopped, feeling helpless. You didn't expect this conversation to go this way. A wave of sadness rushed over your chest while talking. You felt tears building up in the corner of your eyes. You never gave those thoughts a voice and by doing so, your feelings rushed over you like a flood.

"I am so sorry. I should have been stronger. I understand why you hate me. I am sorry, Levi. Please forgive me." you babbled in an endless spurt of apologies. Hot tears now streaming down your cheeks, leaving a subtle mark on your skin. As pure embarrassment joined you buried your face into your hands.

"Y/N." This was the first time in eternity you heard Levi say your name. It sounded beautiful. You felt him gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away from you, but you still refused to look at him.

"How could I ever hate you?" he whispered, not being able to hide the sadness. It hurt that you obviously thought so less of him. This sudden revelation let your head snap up in shock. What you saw surprised you even more.

A soft but worried expression lingered on Levi's facial features. It was a bare sight. Actually, you never saw him like that before. You stared at him in disbelief, still trying to comprehend everything that happened. When he noticed you weren't going to respond he continued, "And I never avoided you because I despised you in any way. I just hated myself." Your hands were still resting in his.

"What? I don't understand." you managed to blurt out.

"I was supposed to be by your side, but I wasn't and for that, I will never forgive myself. Hell, I am the reason you all joined those assholes in the first place. But you stuck up to the task, being brave like always, while I was just being...selfish. I should have been there sooner. I am the one who should ask for forgiveness." Levi fixated his eyes on the ground. You saw that he felt uneasy talking about this, about his feelings.

"Levi..." you exhaled, your gaze softening as well. "Why didn't you tell me sooner how you felt?" Slowly you brushed over the back of his hand with your thumb. "It doesn't matter anyway," he answered. Levi fought to bring back his monotone voice. You smiled weakly. "It matters to me."

You managed to free yourself from Levi's hold and rose your fingers to his head. Hesitantly you hovered them over his cheek. "We shouldn't have grieved alone. You are the only family I have left," you whispered sweetly, while you found the courage to let your digits finally touch the man's skin in front of you. Levi grunted in approval, bringing his gaze up, peaking at your soft face. He was glad that the tinted light of the torches bathed his figure in orange light, so the blush on his cheeks wasn't that obvious. How he missed your touch. He longed for it every night, no, every second. Goddamit, you were the most precious being on this earth.

"I am sorry, that I made you feel even worse after Isabel and Farlan's death." he bluntly said after a short silence, now staring directly into your eyes. You could see every broken fraction of his soul, every part that needed fixing. And you were the only one capable of doing so.

You whispered a faint "Stop it." while throwing your arms around his neck pulling him into a hug. You knew he hated too much physical contact but you couldn't care less right now. Quickly you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck as if you could hide from the outside world there. "I missed you." you quietly said, while tightening your grip. Hesitant at first, Levi hugged you back, caging you in his muscular arms. A sensation new for the both of you. He feared that you would just disappear into thin air when he wouldn't hold you properly. You felt his muscles tensing, waiting for the next move, like a trapped animal. "I guess I forgot that I am not the only one who lost family that day," you said while releasing him from your embrace. Levi's hands still rested on your hips. With the weakest hint of a smile, he answered, "Glad to know that we are both self-centered idiots."

Laughing filled the air. "That's why we get along so well." you chuckled. The young soldier couldn't help but smile. It has been too long since he heard that sound. The featherlike, angelic tune of your laughter. He never would have admitted it, but since your paths crossed it was his favorite sound. There was nothing much to joke about in the underground but you still kept a light-hearted attitude.

"Levi?" You shook him out of his thoughts. "I know it's childish, but promise me that it always be the two of us. No matter what happens." Your e/c colored orbs scanned his grey ones. Your gaze expression was heavy again.

His hands wandered up to your cheeks, cupping them like it was the most natural thing to him. A pink shimmer spread on your skin. He showed you more affection in this very moment, like all the years before.

"Of course. Just the two of us. For as long as we live."

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

proof that diego hargreeves isn’t the hardened vigilante he thinks he is:

in his establishing character moment, he saves a mixed-race family who likely reminds him of his own, and despite the fact that he’s just single-handedly slaughtered a bunch of robbers, he takes the time to tell them “your family is safe now” in such a kind voice that they relax immediately

was so shy about dancing where people could see him that he took the time to close the living room doors before busting into the sickest dance moves you wouldn’t expect from somebody like him

when five’s portal appears, he shoves vanya behind him despite having told her earlier that she has no right coming back to the house after publishing Extra Ordinary

repeatedly guided their mother about during the funeral because grace was noticeably loopier than usual

after his fight with luther, he immediately goes to her, ushers her inside with a kind hand on her back, and opens the door for her like a perfect gentleman

despite the fact that he'd just told klaus he wouldn’t drive him anywhere, diego still waited for him, and was even smiling when klaus finally arrived and started talking about diarrhetic hippos

has outright said that his job is “saving lives, baby”

was nice to agnes, even when he could’ve just forced information out of her

repeatedly teased patch about liking his leather suit and domino mask

was friendly enough with the other policemen that even though he’d almost ruined an investigation by being too nosy for his own good, they still greet him brightly and are actually on a first-name basis with him

told patch that he does give a shit, not just about fighting crime, but also about her

went to her porch specifically after grace’s death, either because he wanted to guard her or because it was the only place he felt safe in that moment

actually jumped on hazel’s back to beat the shit out of him even better because he was choking allison

is the biggest momma’s boy on the planet oh my gosh i cannot stress this point enough and was so protective of her because she was the only one who showed him love and affection growing up

has a habit of getting mad when he’s worried about people (e.g. when vanya gets hurt, or seeing patch’s dead body)

was the only one--i repeat, the only one out of five other people--to notice that klaus was acting out of character and took the time to listen to his woes

cue a bonding moment because the both of them have lost so much in the span of a few days (“well, you’re luckier than most. when you lose someone, at least you can ... see them whenever you want”)

was polite to the soldiers at the veterans' bar because despite the fact that they were being rude, they were still heroes at one point in time and diego clearly respects that

didn’t say a single bad thing about the fact that his brother liked men; only agreeing that he was a pretty special person indeed to love someone like klaus

helped his brother get sober when no one else would

immediately offered to give allison blood, even though we all know just how scared he is of needles

was furious that luther locked vanya up, and it took luther shoving him away a few times from the handle before he gave up

watched his baby sister perform with so much wonder on his face, and was genuinely sorry that there was no other way to stop her

decides to honor patch’s memory by not killing cha-cha

lands in the past and what’s the first thing he does? save an innocent woman from getting mugged ugh idk where reggie ever got the idea that this boy was weak, the heroics run so strongly through his veins

was nothing but kind and understanding with lila because she's a survivor like him, and despite the fact that he’s got something of a hair trigger temper, he takes the time to explain simple things to her (”like yogurt”) and gives her a promise he takes careful measures to keep

was genuinely enjoying himself while dancing with lila, even though she was leading, and honestly that’s the most i’ve seen him smile throughout the series but i’m not even complaining

makes star wars references

WAS THE ONLY SIBLING WHO TOOK THE TIME TO GIVE ELLIOTT’S BODY A DECENT GRAVE BECAUSE HE WAS “ONE OF US”

is the pioneering member of Team Zero™️

was so genuinely happy to hear that ben was possessing klaus that his whole face lit up, and kept clutching him close because finally, after almost two decades of blaming himself for his brother’s death, it’s pretty clear that ben doesn’t have any grudges against him and doesn’t hold any of them accountable for letting him die on the mission

shares exactly one (1) braincell with Luther all throughout S2

forgave his sister as soon as she apologized because that was really all he needed

“you will be dead by midnight ... wrong number, have a lovely day”

“i almost had her, why the hell did you stop me?” “because ... i love her”

didn’t just use herb, and actually took the time to create a friendship + the coolest secret handshake ever with him, which is such a refreshing change from the stereotype in most media where the protagonists simply use side characters to further their goals, then discard them later on

was genuinely touched that klaus thought he looked like antonio banderas

was literally digging his knives into the FBI department floor, just to get to his baby sister and calm her down. CALM HER DOWN, not knock her out or kill her like before, because even though he doesn’t admit it outright, he’s grown fond of her, and it shows in the way he lets her lean against him on the porch

upon getting out from under a tractor that had been pinning his leg in place, what’s the first thing he does? “ALRIGHT TEAM ZERO” *awkward fist bump-high five with luther* i mean come on the levels of dork are just too much

is, in general, such a good and loving person, and that in itself is already a big thing because if you think about it, hargreeves’ training from hell would’ve turned anybody else into somebody as cruel and sadistic as him, but diego still managed to become the exact opposite of that because sure, he can be a little too cynical and snarky sometimes, but his heart has always been in the right place, and that's why we all love him

[dreamsister81]

The day I met and jammed with Jeff Buckley

By Collette McLafferty via her blog confessionsofabaduglysinger.wordpress.com, April 12, 2015

So although there is a lot going on in my world and my brain, I don’t want to be too much of a Negative Nancy. This is called Confessions of a Bad, Ugly Singer so why not confess other stuff too? I’m going to take a break from the anger phase and the absurd lawsuit and talk about a very fond memory: meeting and playing with Jeff Buckley.

I met Jeff a few months before he died and New York was a very different place. At this point in my career, I didn’t actually have a music career yet. I think I had played one show. It was at the Pyramid Club and I played one song that I wrote called “Nudie Bar Blues”, I was the musical entertainment for my friend performance artist AC Haley, who would dance to Led Zeppelin on point shoes with nipple pasties and body paint herself. Yes, I was a dancer back in those days, albeit briefly and just like any other job I frequently bitched about work with my co-workers. I would love to tell you that I worked at a classy joint, but it was an awesomely seedy old school New York kind of place called Dangerous Curves. One regular dubbed it “Cheers with tits”. It was down to earth and actually kind of fun. I learned pole tricks. I would take it over working in a Disney Store any day. I never talk about this publicly, but with all the other shit that’s out there about me…fuck it, why not go there? Might as well let it all hang out now. Sometimes I would walk out of there with $1000 and get on a plane, fly to Miami for a couple days after work and come home with all my money spent. LOL.

New York was full of strip clubs, they were EVERYWHERE. The city had yet to become a playground for trust fund kids, so aspiring artists turned to gogo dancing ALL THE TIME. It was actually pretty common and a bit cliche back then. I had just gotten into writing music. I had written a handful of songs. I wasn’t sure if they were any good and if I would actually pursue anything as a singer/songwriter. My boyfriend at the time LOVED this place called Billy’s Topless on 24th street…he would frequently go there with his friend Kingbird.

I got a call from my boyfriend saying that he met a famous folk singer named Jeff Buckley. Kingbird invited him to come over and smoke weed…only problem he didn’t have any. So it was my job to hook everyone up and make it happen. And make it happen I did. When I got there I didn’t see anyone who looked like a famous folk singer, it was only me, my boyfriend, a dancer named Jessica and her scruffy but extremely hot Lower East Side looking companion, and Kingbird. Oh well. I was still up for a hang.

Jessica’s companion kept giving me the eye. Actually I think he just oozed sex and gave everyone the eye. Everyone took turns jamming and playing songs on their guitars…with the exception of Sexy Man. I was purposefully keeping my distance because I was with someone and gosh-damn he was so hot. About a handful of songs in, my boyfriend said “Why don’t you play one of yours?” Keep in mind I had only played for a handful of people up until this point. So I started to play this song called “Do What You Gotta Do”. Sexy Man’s eyes lit up and he grabbed this acoustic guitar with four strings, looked at me intently and started singing along “Do What You Gotta Do” at the chorus parts. It was an electric feeling. Just knowing my song was actually GOOD and it could move someone that way. I knew at that moment that yes, I would be pursuing this further. When we stopped playing, he looked at me and said, “I never want to forget that song”. We played a couple others, but this one particular song really connected with him. He didn’t play the rest of the night and when my boyfriend asked him to play one of his, he declined. We all hung out, smoked and jammed until about 7 in the morning. Sexy Man gave me a super intense long hug that I had to cut short since my boyfriend was 5 feet away. Damn. There was something kind of mystical about the energy between us.

I realized I never got his name. The next day I asked my boyfriend. “Who was the guy that I jammed with?”

“That was Jeff Buckley.”

I guess he didn’t fit the description of what I imagined a “famous folk singer” to look like. (Not sure if I would classify him that way). I went out and bought “Grace” the next day. We kept in touch with him through Kingbird and meant to catch a show but didn’t. I regret not seeing him play live…months later he drowned in the Mississippi river. I wrote a song about it called “I Sang For You”, which was on my first self titled record with my band edibleRed. It was one of my favorite songs to sing.

First time I heard you on my CD Player

I could have sworn there were angels in my room.

And I feel so lucky having met you face to face

If only for an hour or a few

The night we met, my God it was too funny

I nearly split my side, I was laughing so hard

Sitting in a circle, I sang you a little ditty

As you strummed a bassline on a beat up four string guitar and

I sang for you,

I sang for you.

I sang for you and now your gone.

I try to justify it, in a spiritual manner

You simply met your missions early on in life

You came and you saw and you conquered and did what you were born to do

And now your off to meet your maker in the sky

This crazy world, well it’s worse off without you

But it’s comforting to know your truly in a better place

I imagine you upstairs jamming with the greats who came before you

Trading licks with Hendrix, still it seems like only yesterday

I sang for you, I sang for you,

I sang for you and now your gone

Now you're gone

You leave your grace to carry on.

Last time I heard you, on my CD player…

I could have sworn there were angels in my room.

It’s probably a good thing I didn’t know who he was when I was playing with him because I was able to just organically be in the moment. It was truly inspiring and a gift. After death, he became one of the most influential vocalists of all time inspiring a sound that legions of male singers paid homage to.

Although I loved “Grace”, I actually ended up really liking the rawness of Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk...edibleRed actually got to play a Jeff Buckley Tribute at Arlene’s Grocery...one of favorite songs to cover...

[val-aquenta]

Mace Windu Appreciation Day One. 

Prompt: Serenity/Acting

Here on ao3

 Mace Windu sat on his seat in the council, hands steepled in front of him. He let out a long breath. The problem of Ryloth was complex and with multiple faces. The Senate was pushing for one side, and while he in part agreed, he could see and understand the other side. He shook his head. He had already spent long on this issue even though the Senate’s push had solidified what the Order would do. They disagreed, but if they made it known, the Senate would be quick to order them. As he walked from the seat into the centre and then to the door, he shed the mantle of authority that came with his seat. He was still the Master of the Order, but away from the seat of decision making there, he felt more free, closer to his family. As he exited the room, Mace took a deep breath of relief. The room was somewhat stifling after so long. “Padawan Aleya, you’re free to go if you wish.” The twi'lek smiled widely. “Apologies for keeping you so late. I should have signalled.” 

“No worries, Master Mace. You aren’t that late.” Aleya assured, bustling at the desk and picking up a stack of datapads. Mace lifted a bemused eyebrow. “I had some work to do.” He mutters, blushing a bright green in embarrassment. Suddenly, he perked up, clearly remembering something. “Oh… Knight Depa had a message, Master. There’s an opening in the play they’re doing soon if you want to join. Not sure about the play, though. She just said you should meet her at the theatre.” Aleya stumbled slightly to the side, the datapads tilting precariously. Mace moved forwards, drawing the Force around the Twi’Lek to keep him from falling. 

“Well, I look forwards to the play. Perhaps you’ll even see me on stage, hmm?” Mace grinned, bemused at the bright green flush again. Aleya had only recently been assigned to the Council desk as Shaak Ti’s padawan. He still had, despite his older age, that youthful hero-worship of some members of the Council. Shaak herself, though, was an exception. “And yourself? It’s nearing exams, isn’t it?”

Aleya cringed, his face twisting into a displeased frown. “Yeah. I’m busy, but still managing. The exams come up soon.” He frowned, fiddling with his stack of datapads. “I still don’t get the Ryloth War in 406. Elya seems to be the cause of the revolt, but then the Rila commune also could be part of it, and the-” He stopped suddenly. “Sorry, Master. I was babbling.”

“No worries, Padawan. I’m afraid I’m not too well-versed in Ryloth’s history. I had not studied it. Cyslin, my Master, she studied Ryloth, though it was a while back before I became her Padawan.” Mace explained, a contrite look on his face. 

“Oh! That would be helpful. I’ll talk to her.” They reached the end of the hall. Aleya tried to manage a wave around the datapads. He was… somewhat successful. “Well, see you tomorrow, Master!” And with that, he walked down the left corridor. 

Mace raised a hand in an aborted way. “Good luck with your studies!” He called back, receiving a smile his way. Alright, now for the theatre. It would be fun to act again. Even for just a moment.

Depa was outside the arts centre, waiting for him. She smiled widely as he neared, looking up from a holo and placing the datapad in her robe pocket. “Master! You got my message.” She had changed her hairstyle from a braided crown into four looped braids. 

“Of course. Padawan Aleya is nothing if not diligent.” Mace commented, close enough to feel the gentle warmth of his former student. She shuffled a bit closer, her youthful features lighting up in happiness. 

“Indeed.” She paused for a while, simply soaking in the familiar presence of Mace before speaking once more. “Well, the younglings were putting together a show, and they need a Master and a Knight.” She pointed to Mace and then to herself. “I already volunteered you.” 

Mace sighed, of course. “Depa, you know I am quite busy now-” He started only to be interrupted by Depa. 

“I already checked your schedule, Master.” She grinned unashamedly. Mace had idly wondered if knighting Depa would lessen the amount she pestered him. It appeared not. “I’ve cleared it for practice and rehearsal. As Master of the Order, shouldn’t you be spending some time with the younglings?” She raised an eyebrow slyly.

Mace snorted, “That’s Master Yoda’s job.” Still, he followed Depa into the theatre centre, hands folded into his sleeves. If she had, in fact, cleared his schedule, it would be silly for him to miss this. Depa shot him a smug smile, unfazed by the dry look she received in response.

“Master Windu, Knight Depa!” The crechemaster, a tall mirialan surrounded by a small gaggle of younglings. “Thank you for coming.” Mace bowed, Depa copying him, her hair bobbing playfully. She shot a smile at one of the younglings, a young nautolan who smiles hesitantly in return. Mace takes a glance over the group. There are nine children of various ages, spanning until probably 12. He can’t truly tell. “We’re acting out the tale of the caves for the day of discovery.”

“Ah, a lovely choice,” Mace assured, trying not to feel too sad when some of the children seemed to startle. It appeared he had been missing creche supervision because of all the paperwork from the council seat he had gotten right after knighting Depa. “I’m quite familiar with it. I’m sure you are too, Depa?”

Depa nodded, a hand reaching out to move her braid out of the way. “Yes, we acted it a few times when I was younger. You played the knight if I recall?”

“Indeed.” It had been where he first met Depa. A fond memory he kept close to his heart. “So, when will we begin?” He asked the crechemaster, Tirna if he recalled correctly. 

Tirna was about to speak before a flimsi was pushed into her hands. She looked down to peer at it for a moment. “It’s lovely.” She murmured with a soft smile to the small twi’lek, returning the drawing and receiving a bright smile in return. “We were waiting for you two, so I suppose we can go in. 

The younglings were corralled in, excitedly whispering to each other. The theatre was a familiar place. When he was younger, he had spent most of his time here being taught the art of acting on stage. He’d even dabbled in music on stage, though he preferred to simply speak and not sing on stage. Both Cyslin and himself were surprised when he had gotten an offer from the theatre to become an instructor here. Sadly, his path to knighthood had gotten in the way and Instructor Rhuy had been disappointed, but not exactly surprised by Mace turning down the offer. Sadly, the chiss had passed to the Force a few years ago in his few missions offworld. He had not become familiar with the new instructor, too busy with Depa’s final years of apprenticeship. Mace looked at the brown and gray walls, breathing in the familiar scent and soaking in the warmth of the place. It was a place for entertainment. While, yes, people were driven to tears with some performances, the imprint left in the place was one of happiness and joy. 

Depa, at his side, watched him with a sideways glance. She had not seen him act much in recent years. In the middle of their years, when they were on rotation at the Temple for Depa’s studies, Mace would find himself often in the theatre, but a lot of those memories were hazy, just long enough ago that Depa could only recall them with a blurriness on the edges. A striking image of Mace in full attire of older Jedi, the ornamental robes and rather fancy modified training hilts came to mind. He turned in an elaborate fighting dance with another Jedi, a crechemate in the story. Another image, this time of Mace in more modern Jedi robes, a Nautolan next to him as he acted out a confession scene. She recalled the way she had cringed away from the stage. By the Force, it was her Master up there with that knight. Cyslin’s soft chuckle and a warm hand on her head finished the memory, the faint murmur of Mace’s voice in the background. 

He belonged in the theatre, she concluded, watching his eyes light up as they saw the familiar sight around him. Just as he belonged in the Council chambers, or in some blaster fight on some war-torn planet, or at some negotiation table, impassively looking between the two sides. Mace was many things, and that included being an actor. He looked at home here amongst the rows of seats, the stage as a backdrop, but he also belonged elsewhere. His eyes caught hers. Depa lifted her brow in question. Mace shook his head and followed Tirna up the stairs to the backstage and rehearsing room. Depa took one more look at the theatre, lit up with a warm yellow light, before following the group. 

The rehearsing room was, essentially, a large room, somewhat soundproof and almost large enough to duel. There were mirrors in one corner. The kids stood with Tirna in the corner where she handed out papers. The play was short, most of it being a question and response play. It was a kid's play after all. Depa and he stood in the corner, Mace trying to relax his back. Sitting in the Council chair for so long is a painful experience. He would rather not be there sometimes. Depa eyes him sympathetically, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulders. They both turn to Tirna, in a strange synchronisation that is a result of their partnership. The mirialan blinks before offering the script. Mace accepts it, though he thinks he can recall all the words. “Thank you.” He says softly, flicking through it. The flimsi flutters under his fingers. He looks up to catch the woman smiling at Depa as she hands the flimsi. It occurs to Mace that he never asked why Tirna had asked Depa for her help first. It appears Mace muses with a bemused smile, that Depa is hiding something from me. And that she is doing a rather poor job. He turns back to the script

Tirna floats through the class as they read through it dramatically. The exaggerated expressions and voices of a few directly contrast the other side who read with a bored monotonous voice. It is endearing and familiar. Depa shuffles where she’s seated, rearranging her clothes, a nervous tell Mace has noted for a while. Mace shuffles a bit closer to her, hand going out to rest on her free one. Depa settles, easily leaning into the familiar warmth. They continue reading this way. The nautolan boy near them shoots him a look before returning to his rather exaggerated fearful voice. “But, Master, it’s too cold. I’ll freeze here.”

“Worry not, I feel a heat coming forth.” He tries to be comforting. “Knight Lea, you feel it too?” He asks Depa.

“Indeed, Master.” She responds, easily falling into a lightheartedness as a part of her character. “Younglings… see the light, it comes through the chamber and… through the ice.” The children act as though they are surprised, and relieved. 

“It will save us from the caves. The ice, it’s going down.” A young mirialan says, veil pushed quickly to the side from where it falls on his face. “Melting.” He’s rather good at it, Mace muses. The mirialan boy looks awed. And so, the play ends. Mace finds himself clapping happily much to the embarrassment of the younglings who end up blushing and sharing glances. Depa hands out compliments easily, the children used to her mannerisms indicating she’s been here often. 

The mirialan, Lameo, comes up to him. “Knight Depa says that you were once part of the theatre, but you chose to become a council member instead.” Mace blinks from where he sits, looking slightly upwards at the boy. 

“Indeed, I did.” He confirms, his head tilting slightly to the left. 

Lameo seems to perk up, sitting down in front of Mace. “What was it like, the theatre I mean, not being a Master? I want to join the theatre club, Master Windu, and I was wondering if I should or if I shouldn’t.” 

Mace hums thoughtfully, hands unconsciously steepling in front of him, “If you desire it, and you feel that it is your path, join it. I must say, you have a knack for it as well.” He grins a bit, happy when the young mirialan smiles back. “The theatre would benefit greatly if you joined.” 

“You think so?” 

“I would not lie, young one,” Mace says.

Lameo breathes in deep, furrowing his brow for a moment before he stands and bows thankfully, “I’ll think about it.”  

The performance happens two weeks later. Mace wears slightly more traditional robes, extra ornaments and embellishments on the cream robes. The children, all decked out in their own gear, like all children do, love the elaborately designed hilts, not made for comfort in dueling, but made to look flashy and beautiful. He turns to welcome Depa and is taken aback for a moment. Her robes are designed differently from what she usually wears. The sleeves are more poofed, less easy to fight in, the pants billow before coming to a close at the boots, and there is a pattern on the fabric itself, intricate little swirls that seem to fit. He recalls a younger Depa in cream coloured tunics before she became a Padawan. It appears, he muses, that she has grown up. Her hair has been intricately plaited on top of her head, in a style that Mace would say tops even the most intricate Naboo hairstyles. When he looks at her, he feels happy, yet also sad, yearning for the time when she would only reach his elbow.

“Master?” Depa asks as she sides up beside him after praising enough of the initiates for their costumes. “Are you alright? You seem… off. Are you nervous?” She seems genuinely concerned. 

“No worries, Depa. Just… thinking.” She shoots him a confused look, obviously not exactly understanding at all. Like he’s done before, he starts explaining. “You’ve grown up. It is… novel sometimes.”

Depa snorts, reaching out to smooth non-existent wrinkles on his robes. “You knighted me a year ago.” She murmurs. “I was far from my Padawan years then.”

“I suppose it is only hitting now,” Mace admits, shifting the tunic a bit from where it sits skewed to the left. It was a tradition to make sure they were both dressed properly before leaving the apartments. It has carried on to this day. “In many ways, I can still see the little you.” Depa laughs lightly, a small chuckle really. Her eyes sparkle like they always do when she finds something humorous. 

“Oh dear, I must have a long way to go then, before I am fully grown in your eyes, my Master.” Her affectionate tone accompanies her hands squeezing his. “Well, are you ready?”

“Of course,” Mace says. Depa smiles and joins Tirna in corralling the kids onto the stage. Mace takes a moment to breathe before following her on the stage.