#raven had a whole pack ready

[minimutty]

90% sure this is why Wil's item was some mouth tape. Raven saw him come through those gates and was ready.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My beloved requested we get pizza tonight from the place I got fired. It’s been long enough that I’m not salty, it’s good pizza.

It was packed which wasn’t too unusual for a Friday night but the line was crawling at a super slow pace which was unusual. As we got closer we realized there was a massive table full of uncooked pizzas waiting to go in the oven. Which like, how?

We also saw they didn’t have dough pressed and ready and were frantically doing that while restocking the line with pepperoni and mushrooms.

A harried man shouted it would be at least a 30 minute wait. After a moment he added that they were hiring. It took every ounce of willpower not to shout that that I’d been fired once already but I’d go for twice.

I kept looking for a reason for this predicament. What had happened to set them so far behind? Why hadn’t they had a ton of dough pressed and ready for a Friday night? It seemed absurd that they couldn’t handle a Friday crowd.

After waiting for thirty minutes in line, we got up to order. The girl misspelled my name in the most bizarre way I’ve ever seen in the manner of someone who’s brain has moved passed stress into madness.

She didn’t have dough to make our pizzas but was gamely pressing on with taking our order when the fire alarm got pulled.

The whole restaurant had to empty and the staff looked like they were at the end of their ropes. We got outside and my beloved was ravenous. They had sat in traffic for an hour to get here from work. I kissed their face and told them I’d go pick up pizza at another location and meet them at home. They thanked me effusively and we parted. I saw the fire truck arrive as I pulled away.

When I arrived the other location was *dead*. There were only three customers. But I immediately recognized one of them as the girl who had been behind us in line at the last place. “Are you…?” I asked

“Yes. What do you want to bet they pulled that alarm themselves?”

We laughed and finally got our pizzas, drifting our separate ways after our shared unreasonably long quest for dinner.

[mymindisneverhere]

warnings: 18+ SMUT, a big of angst, fingering, a little praise kink, possessiveness, age gap

Summary: College student, Aaliyah, is obsessed with her Professor and tries to use what she has to get a favor out of him during the last class of the semester.

Professor Richmond

“Alright class, settle down and let’s begin.” He spoke over the voices that rang out.

“Today’s assignment will be simple. I want you all to write a two page paper on someone who inspires you.” He said walking around to the front of his desk. He stood in place, both feet planted on the ground as he rested his hands in front of his waist, his left hand grasping his right wrist.

Aaliyah stared up at him like a ravenous lion. How could one man be so damn fine? The fact that he didn't flaunt his attractiveness made her want him even more.

However, she was his student and he was her professor. There was no way she could ever do anything with him, she wouldn’t do anything to get this man fired but he had to know the effect he was having on her. There was no way he didn’t know.

“Now this could be anyone, a parent, a celebrity, mailman or an artist. I want you to go into grave detail about how their lives have impacted your own and what you plan to do with said inspiration. You’ve got the whole class to write.”

He looked down at his wrist watch, always on his left wrist. “Time starts now.”

Professor Richmond had chosen to teach at the local University after leaving the Marines. He was a huge lover of education and believed that he had a purpose to fulfill by teaching the importance of knowing your history. To enlighten the youth on those who came before them and the impact they had that still affects us in the present day.

Aaliyah was so stuck in a trance, her eyes were still locked onto him while all of her classmates buried their heads into their laptops. She watched intensely as he proceeded to go through his folders, the way his eyebrows furrowed with every document he viewed. That damn look he always made when he was focused, made her squirm in her seat. She wanted him so badly.

He could feel her staring at him. Mostly because she had done it all semester. He worried that she’d never heard a word he said because she was too busy lusting over him.

Professor Richmond knew how women were when it came to him. He was aware that he was a very attractive man and no matter how reserved he was there was always a woman ready to pounce on him at any moment.

“Ms. Johnson, is there something you’d like to ask me?’ He asked, never taking his eyes off of the documents he was looking over.

“No Professor, just brainstorming is all.” Aaliyah replied in a soft and flirtatious tone.

He didn’t bother looking up at her at all. She was the same as the other young girls who he’d teach for 10 weeks. He at least expected his senior students to be more mature than the freshmen but women would be women no matter their ages.

Aaliyah finally took her eyes off of him and got to work along with her peers. The sound of keyboards clicking and papers being turned over filled the room. The students were really determined to write their best papers considering the fact that this was their last assignment before college graduation.

After 75 minutes of writing, the Professor finally dismissed the class, making sure to announce the importance of emailing their final assignments before leaving for the day. He watched as his students packed their bags and left the large classroom.

Next class…

”I’ve graded your papers and I’ve sent each of you an email explaining why you received the grade you received.” Professor Richmond announced to the class. “Feel free to see me after class if you have any comments or concerns about your final grade. I’ll see you all at graduation.”

Relieved at yet another semester down, he let out a silent sigh and took a seat at his desk. All of his students passed and were all qualified for graduation so he doubted that anyone would come and see him after receiving their final grades.

Just as he expected, all of his students exited the classroom in groups… well except one student of course.

“Excuse me Professor?” Aaliyah said, trying to appear sweet and innocent.

“Yes Ms. Johnson?” He said, his fingers tapping away at his computer keyboard.

“Well I wanted to talk to you about my final grade.” She stated, placing her book bag on the floor. “You gave me a C.”

”That’s a passing grade.” He responded, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.

“Yeah but I can’t accept a C.” She said, trying her hardest to see what had him so occupied through his glasses.

“Why is that?” He questioned.

“Well my parents are really strict about how I perform in school,” Aaliyah admitted. She leaned onto his desk trying to appear seductive. Her v-neck shirt putting her Double D’s on full display. “So I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to maybe change it to a B?”

He paused before locking his computer screen and turning his gaze to hers. He just hoped she wasn’t coming to him trying to use her body to get him to change her final grade. Most men were easy in that way, he was not.

“That is your final grade Ms. Johnson.” He stated matter of factly. “Now if you would like to discuss why you got the grade, I’d be more than happy to do so. But your grade stays the same.” He finished, his expression still.

”I’m confident I can get you to change that grade.” She said, staring into his eyes with all the seduction she can muster up.

Aaliyah was young, a bit naive and had a lot of energy for the wrong reasons. Most men, boys, would bend at her every word. She was a gorgeous girl, her chestnut colored skin, her deep brown eyes and her full breasts and curves that made every outfit seem painted on, always got her what she wanted.

She just knew all of what she had would make him change his mind… or so she thought.

“Let me guess Ms. Johnson, you’re hoping to pleasure me in some way in exchange for a better grade.” He spat, cutting to the chase.

The expression on his face turned from disinterest into slight disgust. Not because she wasn’t attractive but because he thought a girl like her should think highly of herself.

It wasn’t necessary for her to use her body to get things, she could simply just ask and receive them. But she didn’t know her own power and it was very apparent to the Professor.

”I’ve had many girls try this before. No disrespect to you Ms. Johnson, but if that was your intention you can leave.” He said, turning his attention back to his computer.

”You haven’t been with a woman like me.” Aaliyah stated confidently.

“A woman like you?” Professor questioned, putting an emphasis on “woman”.

”Did I stutter, Professor?” She smirked flirtatiously.

”A woman like you?” He smirked back. “Who’s still dependent on her parents' approval? You’re still at that age?” He could see her face slowly drop, because he was spot on.

“What? Are they gonna kick you out of the house all because you got a C?” He added.

“I’ll be 23 in a few months and I don’t even live with my parents!” She shot back. “So yeah, a woman like me!”

“Who is trying to get her grade changed because if she doesn’t her parents will punish her?” He stated, causing her to stand up straight.

“Let me guess you put on Bath and Body Works perfume, Victoria’s Secret bra and panties set and cheap lip gloss thinking a man like me would bend at your beck and call?”

Aaliyah sat stunned. He was absolutely right. She had just bought the matching set, so excited to showcase it to him just for him to clock her on the spot.

She looked down in embarrassment and folded her arms trying to hide her chest. The guys she’d been with would've already had her bent over the desk and given her what she wanted easily. But then again they were all her age so it wasn’t hard to turn them on.

Her embarrassment turned into anger very quickly. How could he not expect her to make advances at him? As beautiful as he was, as fine as he was, he had to know she would go after him eventually.

“You can’t blame me for trying!” She yelled. “I mean look at you. You are gorgeous, I’d be dumb to not try.”

“Thank you but throwing yourself at me isn’t the way to get my attention or any real man’s attention.” He spoke calmly, sincerity in every word.

He stood up from his desk and walked around, meeting her face to face. He looked down at her, her face red of embarrassment. “You’re a smart girl Aaliyah. You’re beautiful, you’re talented, you don’t have to use your body to get what you want from men. You simply existing will get the job done every time.”

She looked up at him, surprised at what he was saying. He stared at her for a few more seconds, reading her like a book.

“Did you just come here hoping I’d fuck you and send you on your way?” He asked, his thick eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

Her head jerked back in surprise, she didn’t expect the Professor to be so blunt. He was always so calm and well mannered, even when he was obviously annoyed.

“Well yeah, that’s how it usually goes.” Aaliyah replied, staring down at her feet. “I’ll just leave, the C is fine. I just thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

Professor Richmond walked over to the small window carved in his classroom door and covered it. He locked the door and turned back around to face her.

”I’m not that kind of guy.” He said placing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and crossing the room to her. He invaded all of her personal space, intoxicating her with the smell of his warm cologne. “I can’t just have you for a day and that be it. I’m possessive. Once you’re mine, you’re mine until I say otherwise.”

He stared down at her intensely, hoping she knew how serious he was. It wasn’t that he was never attracted to her, it was the simple fact that he knew the kind of man he was. He couldn’t just engage with just any woman, especially not one like Aaliyah. There was no telling what he’d do if another guy even smiled at her.

“Um, okay.” Aaliyah replied nervously.

“Mine.” He reiterated, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.

“Yours.” She said in an almost whisper, staring up at him through her eyelashes.

“Turn around.” He demanded, still staring down at her.

She did as she was told. He ran his hand down her sides and under her miniskirt. His hand explored all that she had underneath it, her ass, her thighs, her hips and her pussy that began to ache from desire.

“You may think I don’t know how much you stare at me during every class but I notice everything.” He admitted. “The way you’d whisper to your friends thinking I couldn’t hear you.”

Aaliyah stood there breathing slowly but her heart was racing. He carefully removed her thong letting it drop to her ankles. He placed soft kisses on her neck, still exploring her body with his hands.

“I’ve been watching you for a while.” He started. His trail of kisses led down to her shoulders, licking each spot before placing a kiss there.

“The way your hips sway when you walk.”

Kiss.

“The way your lips move when you talk.”

Kiss.

“The way you lick your lips when you get stuck in a daze thinking about me.”

Kiss. Kiss.

Aaliyah was beginning to get nervous. This whole time she thought she was the one keeping an eye on him and here he was telling her that he had been watching her as well. Her mind began to wonder how long he had paid attention to her. What had all he witnessed her do and say without her knowing?

The professor slid his tongue from her collar bone back up to her ear lobe. He exhaled into her ear before kissing her there, the tingling feeling made her arch her back. She reached up and placed her hand on the back of his head, loving every second of his lips against her skin.

“Professor.” Aaliyah moaned in a whisper, pressing her ass against his dick. She wanted him badly, there was no denying it. Every kiss had her body reacting like never before. It was like her body was under a spell that the Professor had casted and only he can undo.

“To approach me thinking I’d pump you and dump you, is that what you believe you deserve?” He slid his finger in between her pussy lips so easily, she was leaking for him. If he decided to go any further than toying with her, she’d never be the same.

“No.” She let out in a staggered breath.

He played with her clit, his middle finger moving in circles while his other hand pulled her shirt down exposing her breasts. He teased her nipples, making her head drop back onto his chest.

“That’s it, relax.” He whispered. He looked down at her face, her eyes shut and her lips slightly parted. He brought his free hand up to her face and caressed her cheek before sticking his middle and ring fingers in her mouth.

“Mmmmm.”

“Look at you, coming undone for me.” He teased. “I’m barely touching you.”

The more she sucked his finger, the more she felt a new hunger brew. His deep, rich tone in her ear drove her wild. The vibrations from his baritone traveling down to her clit every time he spoke to her.

Grinding her hips against his fingers, she could feel his thick dick bulging through his pants. She was so wet he didn’t even have to move his fingers anymore. She rocked her hips back and forth against his fingers until she felt a strong power build just below her navel.

“You gone cum for me, pretty girl?” His eyes never left her face, watching carefully as she chased her orgasm.

“Mhmmmmm.”

“Cum for me.” On cue, she let herself go, her mouth falling open and her knees buckling.

“Ooh shit.” She moaned, dropping all of her weight into him.

He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright. He held onto her as she struggled to catch her breath, still feeling the intense effects of her orgasm.

She opened her eyes and looked around the room, trying to gain her composure. She let out a deep breath and placed her hands on his desk to balance herself.

“Sit down.” He instructed, tapping the wooden desk. She did as she was told, placing her hands behind her and slowly easing onto the cold furniture. The sound of her wet pussy lips departing made his dick jump as she spread her legs for him to get a better view.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He said, running his hand over her slippery clit.

He kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth while he slid two fingers into her. Without hesitation, he began pumping her into another orgasm, barely giving her time to come down from the first.

She tried as hard as she could to kiss him back but the pleasure was too intense. Her eyes locked onto his as he continued exploring her insides with his fingers. As time went by she could feel parts of her soul being snatched away piece by piece as stared down at her. She could see the emotion changing in his face, his eyes shifting from a soft blue to a grayish-green.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He demanded, never taking his eyes off of hers.

“I-I’m yours.” She spoke as her breath hitched.

“You mine until I say so?” He asked, pumping her faster.

“Fuck yes!” She moaned through her teeth, trying to keep quiet. She dropped her head back as she tried to quiet her cries. He stared down at her chest, her big breasts bouncing along with every pump of his fingers was a sight to see. He bent down taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking it violently but never interrupting the rhythm of his fingers.

“S-someone’s gonna h-hear me Professor.” She struggled.

“Then don’t let them.” He whispered. The way her pussy was tightening around his fingers, let him know she was close.

“Oh my God.” She shut her eyes tight. The flood was growing greater and greater by the second. Aaliyah tried her hardest to hold it in. She didn’t wanna rain all over his important documents but he wasn’t letting up.

“Don’t fight it.” He started. “Be a good girl and let me have it.”

“Ugghhh fuuuuckkk,” She cried. She came harder than the first time, squirting all over his desk. His movements didn’t stop until he drained her completely. Her orgasm was followed up with a few yeses, repeating herself until her voice went hoarse.

The professor was unbothered by the possibility of them being heard. He wanted to make sure he left his mark on her, so no matter where she went in the world, she’d never forget about him or how he made her feel.

Aaliyahs eyes rolled into her head from defeat and exhaustion. Cumming more than once in one setting and back to back like this was a first for her. Her chest rose rapidly as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

She needed to recuperate, come back down to Earth, remember that she was his student and nothing more. But she could feel the obsession growing greater in her mind. There was no way he was gonna be able to do this to any other woman, to any other student, after her.

He thought he was a possessive man but he had just created a monster without even needing to fuck her. There was no way he could get married if not to her, have children if she wasn’t carrying them and not spend every second of every day wherever she was marking her anyway he chose.

“Aaliyah.” He spoke into the crook of her neck, kissing her softly.

She didn’t respond, still fighting to come back into reality.

“Aaliyah.” He repeated.

She still couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.

“Aaliyah!”

She gasped, snapping out of her daydream. She looked over to her friend Kiana, who had been calling her name for the past five minutes.

“Huh?” Aaliyah said, eyes wide as she realized she was doing it again.

“Girl we only got 20 minutes left in class and you’ve been staring at the Professor this whole time?” Kiana whispered harshly, her eyebrows bent in confusion and concern. “Bitch you gone fail if you don’t write something!”

Aaliyah looked around the room to the other students. All were buried into their laptops, some had their ears plugged, others typing away at their keyboards. She looked over at Professor Richmond, his full attention on his computer.

“Oh bitch I know you wasn’t daydreaming about the Professor again!”

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵)

[goaways-stuff]

Sunshine's Baked Goods

Tim Bradford x gn!baker!reader

Summary: Long shifts rarely end in such wonderful things

Rating: PG, but I'm an 18+ page

Warnings: none! fluff. No physical descriptions of reader, just that they like pink.

a/n: requested! To the person who requested, I'm so sorry, tumblr deleted my og post & I lost the request & user. Please comment & I'll tag you!! Briefly looked over, but not Beta'd

It was the morning after a long night shift, and all Tim wanted to do was go home and crash on the closest soft surface, but his stomach was ravenous for a bite to eat first. He tried to ignore it as he packed his stuff to go home, though he knew he would need something. 

It was still pretty early, the sun had barely risen, and not many places were open yet as he drove around, looking for something to eat. His stomach rumbled as he finally saw an open sign lit up. A small bakery right outside of town. His eyes were heavy as he stepped out, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet scent of fresh baked goods and…coffee? Oh, he had hit the jackpot. Definitely not his normal post shift snack choice, with the pink decor looking like a barbie puked on it, but it was open, and it smelled good.

The store was barren as he stepped in, the only sound was the little bell attached to the door, alerting you that a customer had come in. You furrowed your brows and looked up at the clock on the wall. Just past 6 in the morning. Yeah, you were open, but you never got customers this early. You just came in early to get a headstart on baking and decorating cakes. You wiped your hands, though you were sure you still had frosting stains somewhere on your body as you went out to the front with your signature customer service smile. 

“Good morning, what can I-” You were awestruck by the man standing in front of the counter. Tall, muscular, a hunk of a man. “...do for you.” You finished quickly, trying not to ogle. 

Tim looked over the small menu above you, seeing the variety of baked goods available. He looked in the glass, settling on a plain donut and black coffee. As you got a second look at him, you noticed the bags under his eyes and the look of exhaustion on his face and in his body.

“Do you want me to make that an espresso for you?” You asked as you rang him up.

“Not this time, thanks. ‘Bout to head home and crash.” He chuckled, the small smile lighting up the whole room, causing your heart to speed up. 

“Professionalism!” You reminded yourself as you nodded, ringing in the coffee as a water. It was your business, after all. A little discount for a nice customer every once in a while is just good customer service.  

You turned around, pouring a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and making sure to grab the best-looking donut. 

Tim swore to himself he saw you glancing at him. He tried to convince himself that he was just tired, and the attractive person behind the counter was just being polite. He couldn't help but glance back as he watched you make the coffee. And when he finally took the first sip, he swore you had to have put something extra in there. Perfectly brewed, smooth, not too bitter. The donut was soft and melted in his mouth. He thanked you and went on his way, sure that he was just so sleep deprived that he was imagining things. Imagining a connection.

But that didn't stop him from coming back. It became a regular thing after, especially long shifts. You always greeted him with a smile, but he swore again that there was an extra sparkle that wasn't there with other customers. The hot, grumpy man is what he became to you. All your employees made sure to get you when he came around. Though he was never rude, just quiet and to the point. 

You always made sure he had the freshest brew of coffee and the best donut, even if that meant going to the back to the warmer to get one. His order was so simple, yet perfection every single time. 

It was another late night, and you were getting ready to close shop when he came in. You smiled. It was easy to get annoyed when customers came in so close to closing, but you didn't care for him. He looked especially tired, so you brewed him a fresh coffee since you had already discarded the batch that had been sitting for a while. You took care to warm the donut up as something in your body pulled you to take a risk. As he sat down, you wrote your number down on the receipt, at the very bottom. You had to take a chance at some point.

You handed him his food. He always stayed to eat, though it never took him more than ten minutes. You went to the back to finish closing, not wanting to admit to yourself that you were too much of a coward to face him. He left as normal, and you were a little disheartened. Maybe he just didn't see it yet, you told yourself. Or maybe he's taken. Or maybe he just doesn't like you. You tried to calm your spiraling thoughts as you closed, turning off the pink neon open sign. 

You tried not to, but you checked your phone far too often that night, hoping for a text. It wasn't until the next afternoon when you got a text from a new number. You were over the moon, clutching the phone to your chest as your life played out like a movie. The chat ended with a date at a higher end restaurant across town that weekend. It was all you could think about that week. You hummed love songs and made more couple's themed cakes than normal. 

Even at the station, Tim's coworkers noticed his good mood. A little less harsh on all the “Tim Tests,” a little less snappy with his orders. It was the talk between all of his coworkers. 

Date night came, and you scrambled to pit yourself together. Everything about you had to be perfect. Pink accents complimented your outfit. He was even coming to pick you up like a true gentleman, a bouquet of pink roses in hand. So he picked up on that. 

You gracefully took his arm as he led you to his car, his hand right above your knee the whole way. Protective but gentle, not wanting to push any boundaries. He smiled the whole time, more than you had ever seen him before. 

And, of course, the night went great, starting off with the essentials of getting to know each other, but diving a little deeper into what the both of you are looking for in a relationship. He had you giddy the whole night, drowning you in compliments, giving a pink flush to your face. You were no stranger to the flirtations either, compliments flowing about his suit, his freshly cut hair, and how it enhanced his sharp features. 

Your heart fluttered from the butterflies flying in your stomach the whole night, and a longing for more had already set in before the night had ended. He drove you home, walking you to your door step.

“So, next Friday?” He smiled, wanting to hear the reassurance for the next date.

“Yep.” You responded, hearts for eyes. He looked at you, his eyes soft, flashing to your lips, plush and strawberry tinted. It aas a moment of silence, but not the awkward kind. It was filled with tension, begging for one of you to break it. Ultimately, he brought a hand to your face, rough and calloused with a gentle touch, bring you to him as he connected his lips to yours. For such a brooding guy, his lips were soft as ever, lovingly exploring yours. You hands wrapped around his neck as his other hand made it to your waist. It lasted forever but not long enough as you had to pull away for a breath of hair. He followed up with a small peck to the lips and a confident smile. 

“I'll see you then,” He said, though you both knew he'd be coming to the shop before then. 

[hydroj1ns]

manga editor goes to the office commando?!

akaashi keiji forgets his underwear

cw: literally just ogling no sex, trans!akaashi

it’s rare that akaashi has to go to work in person. he’s usually only called in when there are particularly important company meetings.

when he does attend, he makes sure to wear his best suit and tie. however, when he gets ready that morning, he notices that it’s more difficult to squeeze into his slacks. curse that osamu, always giving him freebies when he goes to onigiri miya.

he examines his backside in the mirror, and decides that the way the fabric clings onto his thighs and ass is perfectly appropriate for the office. i mean, he’s not showing any skin, and it’s not entirely his fault that he’s grown out of this two-piece. besides, the suppleness of his lower half isn’t nearly attractive to receive any attention, or so he believes.

by the time he’s on the train and the doors have already closed, he feels an uncomfortable chafing against his crotch. shit. did i really leave the house with no underwear? with one hand clinging to an overhead handle and the other gripping his briefcase, he hopes no one notices his lack of undergarments. his trousers are thick enough, right?

wrong. perverts on the train aren’t uncommon, and a pretty boy like akaashi, well, he’s going to get ogled. it doesn’t take much analyzing to figure out that this spectacled salary man is going commando to work today. all the raven-haired man can do is stare down at his loafers to avoid eye contact as strangers smirk at the way the slim-fit pants frame his cameltoe perfectly. he spends the rest of the ride with a blush that goes up to his ears and an amplified throbbing in his nether region.

it’s after the meeting that akaashi hears his name called by one of his fellow editors, asking for his help to review a recently-submitted manuscript. he decides he has some time to spare, so he heads over to his coworker. propping his hand on the desk, he leans over the other man’s shoulder to quickly scan the contents on the screen.

keiji is unaware of how good he smells, his sweet scent wafting over the other editor’s shoulder. he’s also unaware of how the entire office staff are taking unsubtle peeks at his back profile. and for good reason too. the way the black fabric of his pants are taut over his ass, perfectly complimenting its shapeliness, is impossible not to stare at. and not to mention the slight slight outline of his cunt. some of those in closer cubicles are blessed with being able to lower their heads to get a better view of it, and by god, it was worth it. it’s so lewd, seeing the puffy lips of his pussy through the thin cotton. was he even wearing anything underneath? the rest of his coworkers can only imagine bending him over a desk and fucking him hard and raw as his moans fill the whole building.

when he unconsciously shifts his weight from leg to leg, everyone in the office flinches, thinking that he’s about to turn, but when he doesn’t, they go straight back to staring.

when akaashi is done reviewing the document, he returns to his work area to pack up his belongings and go home.

until his deskmate “accidentally” knocks over a huge stack of papers. and of course, like the good samaritan he is, he helps pick them up. with so many documents, it’s a good ten minutes of akaashi bent over, looking ripe for the taking. however, it’s an unspoken rule that no one can make a move on keiji. but it’s also an unspoken rule to regularly drop things in his path just to see his fat ass in the air and for some extra fap material.

today was an extraordinary day for the office. it had been around a month since keiji had come in, and his fuller frame was surprising, but much appreciated. the way he filled out his clothes had his coworkers drooling, not to mention their first look at his (clothed) pussy.

they couldn’t wait for the next time akaashi came to work.

[silverflqmes]

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[kyokikikie]

Hate

(kageyama tobio x reader)

-

-> in which two highschool students who despise each other dearly, get paired up for a project.

!enemies to lovers!

angst w no comfort

masterlist! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

she never thought the way she felt for him could change.

After all, she hated his guts. From the moment she met him in the school library, she knew that he was trouble. The way he would shout at the shorter orange haired male who was always beside him every single time made her annoyed. ‘couldn’t he just lower his voice or shut up?!’ she thought to herself.  The way he would look at almost everyone who wasn’t involved with volleyball with that bitch face as if he were trying to find a problem with them. ‘Is he trying to pick a fight?’ she would scoff whenever that happened. 

To be fair, the feeling was mutual. 

Kageyama Tobio hated her guts too. From the moment she refused to help him with his subjects, he basically considered her as arrogant, he never wanted to speak to her or ask for her help again. The way she BOUGHT THE LAST PACKET OF MILK from the vending machine ( which didn’t restock for a week ) made him irritated and unable to focus during his volleyball practice.

They both didn't cross paths or spoke for months till their homeroom teacher made them pair up for a project that they had to do. 

As expected, they both didn't say anything to each other even when they had a discussion going on. The teacher however, didn't seem to get a hint so she threatened them with a failing grade. 

“If it wasn't for my grades, I would literally throw a brick to your face.” Y/N muttered to herself. “what?” the look on the raven haired male was full of disgust, “you think I want to be here with you? tsk, shittykawa would be a better partner instead."

The girl beside him scoffed, “what makes you think I want to be here with YOU. You can't even slice a simple math question, we are going to fail anyway because of what a  dumbass you are.” 

Kageyama clenched his fist. He had never been called a dumbass by anyone other than his volleyball teammates and sister before. Oh this girl must have had a lot of nerves to say that. Before he could even return an insult, the teacher announced to the class that this project must be done in 3 weeks and is recommended to meet outside of school. 

Y/n and Kageyama both gave an annoyed look before packing their bags for dismissal. After school, Y/N went straight to the library to complete all her homework given for the day, her mind not leaving the fact that she had to meet that volleyball obsessed psycho outside of school. Either way, it was for the grade. as long as she doesn't fail, it would be fine. Although she didn't have the setter’s number… 

Y/n looked out of the library window to see the boys volleyball gym still practicing. She can't believe she's doing this. She can't believe she's actually going to the boy's volleyball gym just to find the person she hates most. Her hands slid the door open, a whole new scenery flashed across her eyes.

BAM! 

The sound of a volleyball smashed the gym’s wooden floor. It was none other than Kageyama who had put all his anger on the ball. “geez… sooner or later this boy is gonna break something." The gray haired upperclassmen, Sugawara-senpai sighed,

“Oh? Who's this? Noya, do you know her?” Suga said to the libero beside him when he spotted the H/c haired girl standing at the door. “nope!” Nishinoya exclaimed, popping the ‘p’. 

“uhm, sorry to disturb your training but may I speak to…that guy.. for a while?” Y/N pointed to the scowling setter while the two boys hid their laughs. She didn't want to say it. she didn't want to say his name.

Sugawara quickly called Kageyama over. the male was no't expecting to see Y/n standing at the door of the gym. He went over to the h/c coloured hair girl, ready to throw another insult till he was interrupted by her. “Look, don't get this the wrong way. Its all for our project. our teacher recommended us to meet outside school to complete it so I would need you number to give you heads up.”

“that's smooth.”

“shut the fuck up and just give me your number already.” “Fine.” the setter typed his number on Y/N’s device before turning his back and continued with practice.

for the first two days, things were not going well, Y/N and Kageyama almost got kicked out of the library for arguing too loudly and they didn't even manage to complete at least one part of the assignment within two days.

On the third day, Y/N had enough. there was no point in insulting him anymore there's no point when the risk of them failing is high. “Yo, I think we should just call it a truce. us arguing is not making progress at all.” The boy just nodded and they both got along with no arguments, no insults.

As days went by, Y/N realised that she despised kageyama for nothing. Sure he was loud and annoying at times but he could be a tad bit motivational when he talks about his love for volleyball. the way his eyes would glim and glitter from thinking about the feeling of setting the ball. the way his lips would curl into a smile when the thought of being able to go back to practice one the project is done made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

who knew the cold, loud kageyama tobio would have such a cute smile.

Before she even realised it, she was falling. falling hard for the boy she once hated. She didn't think that her feelings could change but there she was, lying in bed thinking about him and his silly little sport.

it was a matter of time till Kageyama found out. the way Y/N acted so differently around him made him wonder if she actually thought of them as friends.

the day the project was due, Kageyama couldn't wait to step foot in the gym where he'd almost planned to stay there overnight. Half way through the practice that he had longed for, The raven haired boy was called out by one of his upperclassmen, “Someone is finding you outside, kageyama, you can join back later alright?”

Much to his surprise, His former project parter was there, back leaning against the outer wall of the gymnasium as she crossed her arms waiting. “I thought you said you’d never want to see me again?” Tobio said, startling her, “what gives?”

“I know i said that but… i guess people change, i think?” She fiddled with her hands, “Look, i used to hate you. You and your addiction for volleyball. You and your scowling face. But, working with you for this project made me realised that i was just judging a book by its cover.”

Y/n shifted her eyes to the sandy ground.

“I think i like you kageyama.”

no response. The girl lifted up her head only to greeted with the sight of the the boy, covering his mouth as if he was trying to hold his laughter. "W-Whats so funny?"

"I was just pretending to be nice to you so we would get a passing grade, i did expect you to fall for me. HAHA you should have seen your face when you said that"

oh.

The setter's words stabbed Y/n's heart like a knife. Of course it was an act. after all, he hated her. She stood frozen, shoulders hunched as she lowered her gaze once again as if the weight of his words pressed her into the ground.

Y/n clutched onto her school bag, "It was a prank by the way." she retorted, turning around. "i didnt expect you to be that mean, kageyama." As soon as she said that, the girl walked away with a heavy heart.

Kageyama watched as she quickened her pace and disappeared from his horizon before returning to practice. Unbeknownst to him, his teammates were eavesdropping on his conversation, crowding around the setter when he stepped foot into the gym.

"Either way kageyama, you were too harsh with her." Hinata chipped in. Kaegeyama grabbed the shorter male by his hair causing him to yelp, "What do you know, dumbass."

"Hinata's right, kageyama. poor girl was holding back her tears." Suga patted him on the shoulder as he looked out the window. kageyama followed his actions.

"she said it was a prank."

"I really doubt that, kageyama."

why couldn't he do anything?

"I think I like you, kageyama"

he was at loss for words, unable to say anything. He wanted to tell her 'i like you too' but when he opened his mouth, that disgustingly awful sentence came out instead.

-

It had been weeks after the 'confession', Y/N completely ignored him whenever he tried to approach her just like the past.

All he wanted was to apologise.

she would never know that.

the confession was real.

he would never know that.

they would never know that in every other universe, kageyama tobio and Y/N L/N would always fall in love.

they would never know.

( a follow is very much appreciated 💙)

[ravenssilver]

hello. welcome to raven succumbing to the voices.

aka 1.2k words of mountain realizing he’s emotionally neglected a lot of the time.

cw: dew gets emotionally spoiled, mountain has lots of trouble with his feelings, mountain lore👹

under the cut, if you please<3

Aether was gone.

Everyone was tentative around the subject, not wanting to trigger Dew into another fit of anger. Nobody really knew what Dew was mad at. It could’ve been Aether, the Ministry, himself—but nobody could say for sure due to how closed off Dew had been.

Swiss was always making jokes with Dew, wanting to distract him from the pain of not having one of his mates with them. Cumulus always got a fresh loaf of Dew’s favorite bread whenever they had a rest day, and everyone knew she’s rather be baking the loaf rather than buying it.

Cirrus was a silent comfort, in the shadows where Dew would hide, always willing to wrap her arms around him and whisper sweet nothings to the fire ghoul.

Rain, and by extension Aeon, were always there for Dew to rant to. And Aurora was more than happy to braid Dew’s hair whenever Rain initiated a mini spa night in whatever hotel the ghouls and their Papa were staying in that night.

And Mountain was tired of it.

He was tired of being the backbone, the one who constantly lifted everyone up when he was on the verge of crumbling himself. He was tired of watching everyone coddle Dew, and whisper with each other when the fire ghoul was asleep about oh, poor Dew—or—he’s been feeling better! Maybe he’s getting used to not having Aether around?

Mountain huffed behind his book, glaring over the tops of the pages at the fire ghoul sleeping on the tour bus couch.

He was tired of Dew being helped while he was tossed aside.

But he also felt like shit. He was feeling the same pain as Dew, yet here Mountain was acting childish, jealous over his mate who was getting the help that he needed.

But was it really being childish? Or was it realizing the mistakes of the pack, and how he felt being left in the dust when he needed support as well?

Mountain’s glare softened as he felt thorns growing from around his antlers. He slouched down a bit in the table booth, hiding his face behind his book until he could control the tears welling in his eyes.

He just wanted Aether back.

It wasn’t often Mountain was late to pre-show roll call. But tonight?

He was just so tired.

Mountain’s body was now facing the effects of being stressed out and emotionally worn. His stomach was constantly churning, he had an ever present ache right behind his eyes that never seemed to go away, his back was rigid and it hurt to move.

He was sore, and he knew he life was about to get a whole lot more exhausting after tonight’s ritual.

“Mountain?”

The earth giant blinked behind his goggles and looked down, seeing Aurora. Her much smaller hand was picking his up, a frown on her face as she felt how heavy his arm was, his exhaustion clearly echoed in the way he was holding himself.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay? You seem tired. Your ritual jitters aren’t as noticeable as usual,” Aurora spoke softly, reading the shaking of his hand as just simple jitters.

If only.

“I’m fine. Ready for the rest day we have tomorrow.” Mountain said simply, his face emotionless as he looked down at Aurora. His neck screamed at him as he looked down at her, the amount he had to strain his muscles almost laughable due to Aurora’s size compared to his.

Aurora nodded, a smile on her face.

“Me too.” She chuckled. She went to say more, but Papa cut her off, reeling in all the ghouls for the pre-show huddle.

Mountain sighed and stiffly walked over, taking note of how Rain, Swiss, and Aeon all walked over with Dew huddled between them.

His eyes narrowed as he watched how Aeon gave Dew a small buzz of quintessence to give him an energy boost. Mountain grumbled silently, knowing he could’ve used that small amount of energy much more than Dew.

But who was he to demand Dew stops getting the attention and support that he had been drowned in the for the whole tour?

A soft sigh left Mountain as he joined the huddle, tuning out Copia’s words.

Tomorrow.

Resting tomorrow will help.

He hated his sleep schedule.

Mountain was up with the sun the next day, and no amount of keeping his eyes closed lulled him back to sleep.

Mountain huffed and rolled onto his side, opening his eyes and discovering he hated something a lot more than his God forsaken sleep schedule.

Swiss was in the bed two feet away from him.

As well as Dew, Rain, and Aeon.

A low, earth rumbling growl left Mountain and he was immediately standing up, roughly unzipping his travel bag and pulling out some regular street clothes, his toothpaste and toothbrush, and his hairbrush. He grumbled as he walked to the bathroom, quickly getting ready for the day before he tossed his pajamas and hygienics onto the bed.

Mountain grabbed his phone and a room key before storming out of the room, ignoring how his now glamoured body complained with each step he took.

He didn’t know where he was going. He wasn’t even sure which city he was in.

He just needed to leave.

He turned his phone off after a while. The constant buzzing was getting on his nerves, and he had gotten close to tossing his phone on the sidewalk and letting it get trampled by the crowd.

He was so mad. The anger was only growing as Mountain realized how childish he was being.

He decided he needed to punch something. Hard enough to break whatever faced his wrath.

He wanted to indulge. He wanted to allow himself the brief respite that would be bruising his knuckles as his fists slammed down over, and over, and over, and over again.

Damned Beelzebub..

Mountain huffed and turned on his heel, walking back to the hotel and praying to his Lord below that he would be calm by the time he finished the fourteen block walk.

He just wanted to feel normal again.

Maybe he just wanted to be noticed.

Mountain listened to the quiet snores of Swiss and Rain, ignoring the growling voice in the back of his mind that was reminding him Dew had a key to the hotel room.

He didn’t want to be mad at Dew, and after lots of thinking, he realized he wasn’t. Envious, for sure, but he didn’t blame Dew, despite how much he wanted Dew to feel the hurt that he had been feeling. He wasn’t jealous anymore.

Mountain sighed as he looked over at Swiss and Rain.

He knew he could join them. He could start an unofficial and unannounced ghoul pile, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to see any more of the pack until he had to.

He was mad at them for forgetting him. He was mad at them for leaving him in the shadows and putting Dew in the limelight of their care and attention.

Tears welled in Mountain’s eyes as he realized what he was actually upset about.

He rolled onto his side, facing the wall so he could have some resemblance of dignity as he begrudgingly let tears fall.

He was an afterthought.

And he had reached his limit.

Mountain curled into himself and buried his nose into his knees, whining quietly as his back screamed in pain yet again.

This rest day wasn’t very restful.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

sooooooooooo for the NRC family day interactions, i'm curious to see what would happen if riddle and step-dad ashengrotto met in the wild, because riddle has expressed that recently he's gotten interested in law. it would b cool for him to chat with the canon lawyer who taught azul about laws n contracts.

plus the whole, riddle being unsure actually because his whole life his parents had plans for him and planned for him on becoming a healer like them, but now he's interested in something else. n while i kno he reads about law, it would give him a lot of insight to actually, speak to someone who does this for a living, who maybe even suggests ideas of finding a way to combine both medicine and law, like medical law (branch of law) or medical jurisprudence (branch of medicine).

and other stuff too.

idk i just think a conversation between the two could be interesting, even outside of like, riddle's own interest in law; like another interesting thing would b his whole, family/homelife situation & the fact that riddle hints that his parents don't really get along that well + knowing that step-dad ashengrotto met mama ashengrotto while she was filing for divorce... just lots of ideas in me brain i think.

idk hopefully this isn't unintelligible sdfjsdklfd thank youuuuuuu

Thank you for submitting this really interesting idea ^^ This one is really long compared to the others, so I slapped a cut in to make scrolling by easier. This fic borrows ideas from a theory that I talked about a few days ago?

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but I think it's cool that Azul not only has a stepdad, but actually gets along with him. Rarely do I see divorce portrayed as a positive thing (I mean, how often do we see wicked stepparents or a child that refuses to accept the stepparent), so Azul's family was really refreshing to see.

Not me taking inspiration from the divorce lawyer in Enchanted and various characters from Ace Attorney for stepdaddy Ashengrotto—

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The cafeteria was packed, and the ghost chefs were working overtime to feed the influx of hungry guests. Staff, students, and their family members had been coming in and out throughout the day, leaving not many tables open and the food line long. Some had taken to sitting cross-legged on the floor or spilling out into the hallway to make space for new arrivals.

One look at the gaggle of people along the walls and on the ground, and Mrs. Rosehearts had turned up her nose. "I won't have you sitting like a barbarian, Riddle. We'll find you a proper seat. Look, there’s one now. You sit—I’ll see what they have available on the menu and fetch you an appropriate meal.”

“Yes, mother.”

Riddle shifted uncomfortably at a cramped table. He dared not falter in his posture. Back straight, head high, hands neatly folded in his lap. He was a rose among those deemed the weeds called riffraff.

… It’s noisy, Riddle noted.

Indeed, it was. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students exchanging chatter and laughter with their loved ones. Sharing bites of food and stories, nourishing their bellies and their souls.

A memory clad in flowers filled his mind.

“Riddle!”

He was back in the Heartslabyul gardens, colorful decorations and card soldiers in every direction. Flamingos and hedgehogs at the ready, the roses painted red, a dormouse in the tea pot. Cakes, tarts, and finger sandwiches sliced up and served with tea.

Ace and Deuce were arguing over something silly again. By the sumptuous spread of snacks, Cater was snagging pictures before so much as a bite. In the memory, Riddle made to tell them off, only to be stopped by the vice dorm leader at his side.

“They have so much energy,” Trey had remarked. “It’s livelier than usual today.”

Yes, that was the right word for it. Not noisy, but lively.

How curious that dining at Night Raven College is like this. At home…

There was a lone platter set for him, a sad, limp little square of food in the center. His mother, arms folded, to the right. His father, trembling in his chair, to the lift. Raised voices and scathing remarks.

Some days the dining room was empty altogether, save for himself and stacks of textbooks. When he did crossword puzzles and sudoku, the vocabulary and the numbers kept him company.

His heart twinged. Riddle frowned and curled a hand over his chest, as if trying to soothe the pain.

What is this? Why… do I feel this way?

"Excuse me, young man."

He jolted upright.

An older gentleman in glasses was beside him. His hair, peppered with streaks of white, was neat, and he was dressed in an even neater suit. He smelled like salt wrapped in a sea breeze, faint citrus and sunshine.

The stranger gestured to the spot beside Riddle. “Pardon me if I disturbed your train of thought. I wanted to ask if this seat was taken. I need a quick place to rest my legs, then I’ll be out of your way.”

Riddle took a quick glance at the line—which still snaked around the room, but at least his mother had vanished from view. Relief. “It’s open. Please, sit.”

“Thank you.” The man slipped in next to Riddle. He sighed, just as relieved as the boy was. “Much appreciated. I hope I’m not stealing this seat from one of your parents.”

“Not to worry, sir. Only my mother is with me today, and it seems like it will be quite a while before she returns," Riddle reassured him. “My father is preoccupied with work, so he was unable to attend."

It was partially true. Whenever possible, his parents actively avoided each other. Strategically taking specific hospital shifts just so happened to be a means to that end.

"I'm here with my wife and son myself, they're perusing the food. A shame about your father. Really. Perhaps he'll be able to attend next year."

"Perhaps."

Riddle hoped not.

He looked away, dodging the man's eyes. Fearing that his own would betray him.

A glint of gold snagged his sight, and Riddle's heart leapt. Pinned to the stranger's lapel was a small pin depicting the scales of justice.

The man took notice. "I see you've spotted my bar association badge."

"You're a lawyer, sir?" Riddle's question came out small.

"That's right." He tilted his head to one side. His smile was slight, yet encouraging. "Might you have an interest in law, young man?"

"Ah, well..." Riddle instinctively looked to the line again before his gaze darted back to his conversational partner. "Y-Yes, I suppose you could say that. However, I'm aware that it is a big commitment, and I have already resolved to pursue magical medicine."

"A career like that can be fulfilling as well," the man said kindly. "I have colleagues that specialize in medical malpractice and negligence. We also sometimes work with forensic scientists for certain cases.

"There is most certainly crossover between the legal and healthcare sectors. You could consider looking into those fields as a middle ground between your two interests."

Riddle blinked.

"Did I overstep my bounds?"

"No, I just..." Hesitation. "I'm not used to speaking like this."

"About your future?"

No, Riddle wanted to correct him, it's being given advice and suggestions, rather than expectations and orders.

"About straying from the path," he said, a quick half-truth. "It's difficult to compromise, even if the options exist out there."

"Hmm." The man nodded understandingly. "Changing course can be scary, yes. I don't fault you for thinking that way. If it would help in any way, you are free to ask me questions about my own experience. I'm no medical lawyer, but hearing it from the horse's mouth has helped some of my clients before."

"You would offer such a thing...?"

The man's eyes shone with the trace of a contained laugh. "I don't charge for the first consultation," he joked.

"Then..." Hope crept into Riddle's voice. "Could you tell me about your own specialization?"

"My firm mainly deals with cases of divorce."

Divorce.

The word was bitter on Riddle's tongue as he swallowed it. But the lawyer spoke it with such ease, like it was nothing more than the weather forecast for the day.

Divorce, divorce.

It had always been an option for Riddle's parents since the first problems had started between them, but never seriously considered, never discussed. His mother would sooner die than confess she was anything but right, that she had made the mistake of choosing the wrong man. And what would the community think? What would they say?

As a child most foolish, Riddle had prayed to the Queen of Hearts to share her secret to a successful marriage. No answer ever came, and it was then that he realized: divorce was never in the cards for his parents.

The man carefully took in Riddle's frozen expression. "It happens. I see it a lot in my line of work—and it is one hundred percent normal. People are like castles in the sand, you see. They change, their feelings change. They fall out of love. Part of my job is to ensure that the separation occurs smoothly.

"There is stigma attached to the concept of divorce, that it ruins families and brings them great shame. But sometimes a family is better apart than together, and they can find new happiness once they've picked up the pieces. Cutting ties can be the most liberating feeling in the entire world.

"I speak from experience myself. I met a lovely, bright-minded woman while she was going through her own divorce proceedings. Now that woman is my wife, and her son, my own."

Riddle's brows knitted. Disbelief and confusion crowned his features. "It almost sounds like a fairy tale. Can such a drastic change truly lead to happiness?"

"For me, it did. It may not be the case for you, because you and I are different people."

"Th-Then tell me!!" Riddle stood, slamming his hands on the table. Food and silverware rattled, people stared. He didn't care, his volume spiking. "How? How do I do that...? Please tell me. I don't... I don't know how to do it myself."

"That, I cannot say."

"Why not?! You... You said you would help me!"

"I did say that, didn't I? I said I would help you by talking about my own experiences. Tricky thing, wording. It's easy to overlook the fine print." The man pointed at him. "The rest is in your hands."

"I can't do a single thing," Riddle protested. It felt like roses were choking him. "My hands are tied. My path was determined a long time ago. Change is absolutely unacceptable."

The lawyer regarded him coolly. "Let me tell you something, young man. The law is the law because there is a human element to it, no matter how impartial, how black and white, we try to be. We write the laws, act on them, and interpret them. Likewise, you, too, are responsible for that interpretation.

"What is right, what is wrong, and what role you must play therein... these are things you alone determine, whether that be in career, in love, or in life. You are your own judge, and the decider of your own destiny. It is something only you are capable of, and no one else but you."

Riddle reeled his head, reacting as though he'd just been decked.

Right and wrong... The role I must play... Something only I can do?

Someone had told him something similar not too long ago. The words harsher then, and paired with a sound punch to the face.

"Is that all you are?!" Ace had demanded, fist clenched, still raw from making contact with his dorm leader's cheek. "An extension of your mom? Can't you think for yourself?"

The twinge to his chest had returned. Stronger, sharper. Like thorns tearing into his skin.

"... I see," Riddle said slowly. "I think I understand it a little better now."

"I'm glad to hear it." The man's smile broadened. He looked at something beyond Riddle, then rose from his seat. "Well, if you'll excuse me... It seems my family has finished their business. We should get going now."

"Of course. Thank you very much for speaking with me, sir." He humbly lowered his head to the man,

A voice came from behind the redhead. "Oya, what a surprise. If it isn't Riddle-san."

He immediately bolted up in horror. The dorm leader of Octavinelle stood before him, lips cocked into a smirk. A woman with the same silvery hair was next to him, cut in a sleek black gown and with seashells in her jewelry.

"Wha--?! Azul...?! What are you..." Riddle faltered with both his words and his calm.

"Oh? Is it a crime to come collect one's stepfather?" The merman sighed dramatically. "I was going to come over sooner, you know—but it looked as though you two were having quite the engaging conversation. I thought it rude to interrupt and cut it short."

Riddle's head whipped back to the lawyer. "Th-This is your stepfather?!"

"Azul, I didn't realize this lad was your friend. We were just having a nice talk about career goals."

"Career goals, you say? My, that sounds so interesting." There was something unsavory, slimy even, about the way Azul emphasized his interest. "I'm jealous, Riddle-san. We've shared our dreams with one another before, but never on such an intimate level."

"And just who in their right mind do you think would willingly divulge that information to you? Don't act as though we're friends."

Azul smiled wryly. "Aren't we? After all, we've been through both hell and high water together."

"It sounds to me like you boys are good chums," Mr. Ashengrotto remarked, exchanging raised eyebrows with his wife, "though you certainly have a strange way of showing it."

"Why haven't you told us about him, Azul?" his mother asked. "I'd love to have him over for dinner."

"Riddle-san can be surprisingly shy. I wouldn't wish to cast a spotlight on him."

"Who's shy here?! All you've been doing since you showed up is put me on the spot!"

Mrs. Ashengrotto put a hand over her mouth, stifling a chuckle. “If you visit us, Azul could invite his other friends—do you know them? The Leech twins. You could all get to know each other, and that could help you get out of your shell.”

“N-No thank you, ma’am!!” Riddle said (perhaps a little too loudly, and too quickly). The farther away I stay from those sketchy brothers, the better!! I wouldn’t be caught dead trying to cozy up to them!

“No? Maybe another time then. The offer is always there. Come to us when you're comfortable with it, dear.

"I guarantee you won't regret it," Mr. Ashengrotto chimed in. "She makes the best food I've ever had under the sea. Azul could pack away an entire bucket of her fried..."

Azul loudly cleared his throat. "While this chat has been amusing, I believe it's time we stopped hounding the poor, unfortunate soul and moved to the next item on our itinerary. I'm sure that Riddle-san is busy with his own matters as well."

"Yes, my mother will be back soon with lunch."

"That so? We'll be on our way then. Wouldn't want to disrupt your time together." Mr. Ashengrotto tenderly squeezed his wife's arm. His other hand found its way onto Azul's shoulder. "Have a happy Family Day, Riddle."

"Happy family day to you too."

With that, Azul and his parents departed. Their mouths moved, their expressions changed, playing off of one another. Saying things Riddle couldn't hear, nor understand even if he could hear.

The rose-red ruler, entrenched in a sea of people, was left with many thoughts racing through his head. Those gathered in the cafeteria, Heartslabyul, the Ashengrottos...

One question lingered like the last vestiges of sunlight on a lazy summer day.

Are these... what families are meant to be like?

[v3nusxsky]

So I’m like severely sick rn, with a cough, fever, allergies and all the types of bodily pain you can think of.

Would you be so kind as to write a cute little Larissa x reader sick fic? Full creatives rights to you, write what comes to you and what you like. Thank you, darling:)<3

-comet ☄️

Sweet thing

*authors note~ I’m so sorry you’re sick lovely, I know this is a bit late but I hope this is okay? Taking an kinktober break to post this! Next instalment of kink is coming to a screen near you soon ;) Can always pop me a message and tell me anything you wanna change or add! It was written on a train so it sort of inspired this :)*

Trigger warnings~ little r cg Larissa anxiety brought on by trains illness fever sickness headaches just generally feeling crap ?? Probably more tbh😂

Prompt~see ask^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You knew you felt like shit today, it hit you as soon as you were awake, coughs wracking through your body as if it was nothing more than a meet bowling pin. The headache you went to bed with was never quite leaving you. In fact it seemed to have rested and come back with a vengeance, and of course it was the one day you couldn’t deal with this. You are meant to catch a train a little before two thirty to travel to Jericho and see your girlfriend for the month. Having time off from your school due to some building work gave you the perfect opportunity to discuss your idea of moving to Nevermore to teach with the blonde principal. You were more on edge as you knew the last “Normie” teacher the school had almost tried to kill your lover, but not being with her all the time kills you. Yet this sickness seemed to have other ideas for you.

Deciding you had some time you attempted to sleep off the worst of this sickness before dosing your self up on pain medicine and dragging yourself to the train station. Only this time when you awoke, your whole body ached, your eyes leaking moisture, nose running like a tap and this ungodly cold sensation all over your body. Instinctively, you wanted to borrow under the blankets and sleep for eternity but you simply didn't have the time for that. So instead, you hauled yourself out of bed, shoving on the comfiest pair of clothes you could find before readying your tired body to leave your room.

Rushing to the train station was all blur, but some how you made it and you couldn't be more grateful that you managed to secure a seat before the train got to busy. By the first stop, the train had began to pack up and in the sick haze you swore your heart was beating so fast it could be considered a rocket with the speed it was trying to take off with. your right leg began to bounce as you felt eyes on you from every direction of the train carriage. Paranoia seeped into your bones as you felt as if you'd been dunked into flames judging by the now uncomfortable heat spreading over your skin. The earbuds you strategically place in your ears to dull the noise now seemed to be failing as your head felt ready to explode. As soon as you heard your stop being announced you could've cried with joy as you escaped the train, promising yourself that you would never put yourself through that anxiety educing activity again. Especially not alone.

The taxis for Jericho are far and few between, in fact there is not any. so you enlisted the help of Nevermore's very own troublesome raven haired student and her werewolf girlfriend. It turned out to be brilliant timing as some of the Nevermore students happened to be in Jericho shopping for the raven, so you were able to sneak onto the shuttle using your abilities to help you blend in with the other students. Thankfully Coach Vald wasn't too observant otherwise he would've surly notice the sick teenager sat between Wednesday and Eind, who clearly wasn't there before.

Arriving at Nevermore took your breath away every time, yet this time it could be argued that it was the cough that was trying to force itself free from your chest that did it. With a quick thank you to the girls and reassurance that Wednesday, Enid's and things skills your luggage would make its way to the Principles office you slipped off to find your lover. As you walked the halls of Nevermore your body was slowly giving up, the pain overwhelming you, the fever causing you to shift into a much younger version of yourself. The need to find the Principal was now at an all new high, luckily she found your things before she found you. You'd have to thank Enid for spilling what was meant to be a surprise when you felt better.

"Hello love bug" you heard from down the hall. Your momma. once you turned to face her she could see just what Enid had described. you were really sick and yet somehow made your way to Nevermore to surprise the blonde. You must have told her a later train time in hopes to surprise her. Rather adorable, but she would have to remind you that you need too look after your health when you felt better. "Momma, no feel goods" you whimpered before your little body gave out and made friends with the floor.

Scooping you up of the floor and cradling your small frame to her chest, she could feel the heat radiating from you, yet shivers racked your frame as if it was winter weather. She immediately took you back to her private chambers where she could care for you more discreetly. Being placed on her bed, you immediately wriggled over to burrow your face in her pillow before snuggling into her blankets. With a small chuckle, the blonde gently rouses you to give medicine and cool your temperature down. "No Momma, no more" you whined trying to wriggle away as much as your weak body would allow you to. "I know little love, but we have to get you feeling better don't we?" to which you nodded and reached out for the older woman to hold you. Only when you were wrapped in her arms did you feel better, "magical nuggles momma" you yawned causing a huge smile for the Principal of Nevermore, the amount of love you brought her was magical. "Only for you my love, can you tell momma how you got here when you are feeling so icky darling?"

You sleepily recounted how you made your way to Nevermore and the reason why you were so determined to get to her. Even when you were this sick, Larissa was all you could think about and need. "Wanna live momma ever an ever" you mumbled before the medicine knocked you out, snuggled onto the principals chest, your home and safe space. Larissa held you while you slept wondering how she could reprimand for needing her? she just couldn't but if you lived and worked in Nevermore then she could most definitely keep an eye on you.

Word count 1159

[mkcannothelpyou]

Mission: Buy the Armored Core VI Blu-rays

1. "621. Here's a request from a friend. Street dates for the Armored Core VI Blu-rays are in. Volume 1 includes Episodes 1 and 2. Deluxe Limited Edition packs in a bonus novella, if you wanted to know how G4 and G5 ended up in the Redguns. Audio commentary from me and Michigan too. Bring it home, 621."

2. "This is V.II Snail. I am commissioning you for this request—consider it a privilege. Having been favorably received, Volume 2 of the Armored Core VI Blu-rays is now available for reservation. Episodes 3 and 4 detail the events up to and including Operation Wallclimber. Packaged as a bonus is a novella that lays bare V.IV's induction into the Vesper Squad, as well as some of the meager deaths of Walter's mutts. Proof of your ability is on the line—you will not return empty-handed."

3. "Raven, it's me. Volume 3 of the Armored Core VI Blu-rays is going on sale. That means Episodes 5 and 6, where you take on the Watchpoint. I've looked into the bonuses. There's a novella in this one covering the Fires of Ibis, and a report on Dolmayan. I don't have any funds with which to buy it... Would you preorder it for me?"

4. "Tourist. This is "Chatty" Stick from RaD. There is a date set for Volume 4 of the Armored Core VI Blu-rays, which has made the boss very happy. Episodes 7 and 8 will cover the Crossing. There is a novella about how the boss created me, and a bonus CD of Arquebus and Balam corporate anthems. That's all I had to say. Later, tourist. "

5. "Hey, buddy. V.IV Rusty here. They just announced a date for Volume 5 of the Armored Core VI Blu-rays. That's Episodes 9 and 10, but word is they're going deluxe—a fresh cut of Episode 11, the one where we down the Ice Worm. Still going strong with the bonuses, too—a spin-off courtesy of Arquebus PR's radio station... one whole hour of Vespers VS. Redguns on CD. Don't miss out on it, buddy."

6. "Hey, tourist. It's your old friend, "Cinder" Carla of RaD. Looks like they're pushing out Volume 6 of the Armored Core VI Blu-rays. They're capping this one with the special where you intercept the Redguns. And hey, the viewers didn't vote for it, but someone up there loves us, because they're throwing in the alternate ending too. Chatty, boot up the ACs! Something tells me we're gonna go shopping!"

7. "V.II Snail, come in! This is V.VI Maeterlinck! They've gotten too lavish with Volume 7 of the Armored Core VI Blu-rays! On top of Episode 13, they've brought out a reveal-all OVA about the formation of Overseer, and a top-secret Institute report from Professor Nagai! They even have a CD where Handler Walter sings for the Episode 13 ending theme!? Requesting backup, stat!"

8. "Guess who's calling, tourist. Listen to your lucky numbers—Armored Core VI Season 2, Boxset 1, coming to stores. Sounds like they've got Episodes 1 through 4 in the "Fires of Raven" arc. Bonuses are... an old diary written by that little Ayre interloper, and a drama CD they're calling "MIND α, Release Phase 1". Happy face, tourist! Let's have ourselves the last laugh!"

9. "Hey, buddy. V.IV Rusty here. Just got a message about Armored Core VI Season 2—they're readying to sell Boxset 2. Contents are Episodes 1 to 4 of the "Liberator of Rubicon" arc. They're packing an Alternate Limited Edition with a figure of STEEL HAZE ORTUS. Your ideals brought cinders to life in the production team. I'm moving out to preorder, buddy."

10. One new message. "Rb23, independent mercenary Raven. Armored Core VI: The Movie -Alea iacta est- is now on streaming services. A UHD-BD, containing audio commentary by myself and Ayre, a CD of the main theme as sung by Ayre and ALLMIND, and a storyboard collection, is also available for purchase. This ending exists for all mercenaries."

[fazbearedits]

A pink glimmer

A tricky fic requested by anonymous! :D

(Also this contains some of my theories and this does not take place in my canon timeskip au bc in the canon timeline Trinity is married to Enzo meanwhile here she’s single)

It had been 14 years since Nicky set foot back in raven brooks,after he turned 18 him,Jay and Luanne all moved back to New York,where Nicky lived till he was about 3 or 4 years old,he left without saying goodbye to any of his friends and he barely kept in contact with them.A few years after he moved out and got an apartment of his own in the city but it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.When he was 13 years old he was kidnapped by mr Peterson and kept in his basement for two whole months with almost no one caring to look for him,not even his own parents.

He was also physiologically tortured by the shadows of two little girls,mr Peterson’s daughter Mya and her best friend,Lucy yi but it seemed Lucy had more control and Mya was just forced to be here but anyways.It plagued him as an adult which did not end well,he struggled with smoking and drinking and he could barely hold a job.He would show up at work hungover and sometimes just drunk,he also had a violent outburst on a patron onetime.and one day he got a eviction notice so he immediately went on Zillow to look for houses when he saw his childhood home listed for quite a bargain (well in real estate prices) due to the fact that no one had bought it since him and his family moved out.

and he was actually able to afford it with the money he had left so he bought the house and applied for a job there.and a few days later he packed up his car ready to go back to raven brooks.once he arrived on friendly court it was about 6:00 pm so the sun was setting,he stopped outside his house which looked like it’d seen better days.he looked at trinity’s old home next to his and it had a new car in the driveway so he assumed that someone new lived there but then he looked across the street to see not mr Peterson’s house but just an old wood plot,I mean the city had to get rid of his house eventually.

He walked across the street to see it but he felt a shiver down his spine so he quickly walked back to his house.He started to unpack boxes when he heard a perky upbeat voice behind him “hello,neighbor! Welcome to friendly court!” She continued talking but it hurt Nicky’s head so he turned around to politely ask her to be quiet but he almost fell over seeing who it was.it was Trinity,but she looked different.Her once short hair with beads in it was slightly wavy but put up in a bun,she wore a white button up shirt with a long black skirt and lastly black slip on shoes.Trinity looked like she was about to pass out seeing Nicky and they both uttered each other’s names with a shaky tone.

Trinity was talking super quickly to Nicky but it was all just muffled sound to him because he couldn’t take his mind off of how beautiful she was.he saw a pink glimmer around her,the type of pink glimmer Enzo described when he first met Trinity.he never felt this when he was 13…did he? I mean Trinity was super nice and friendly to him like no one ever was…did he see this pink glimmer before?

(SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO MAKE)

[masked-rat]

Space Marine Chapter: The Impalers

Posting this here because I would kind of like it to survive for posterity, and the odds of me coming back to 40k are pretty low.

Going to skip the Index Astartes entry because, let's face it, they're actually Night Lords.

They are *not* "lost in the Warp" or something like that. They're literal heretics who fought against the Imperium in the Heresy. And at some point, they realized that it's hard to enjoy the freedom of being Chaotic if you don't have the logistics. And while Chaos is good for freedom... it really sucks for logistics.

So, they take some old battle barges that can still pass for loyalist, come up with a cock- and- bull story about being a Raven Guard successor chapter that really had gotten lost in the warp, made a big show of dropping off a bunch of daemon weapons and warp artifacts to buy off the Inquisition, "return to their homeworld" which is now an industrial world (as in, 20th century tech, not like a forge world), the whole shebang.

Everybody buys it. And sure, they have to fight for the False Emperor every now and then, but on the other hand, the False Emperor's logistics are worth it. The Mechanicus doesn't even question when they have the industrial world's manufactories start building equipment to *their* specifications. And the gene- seed? Perfectly clean, because Night Lords geneseed is perfectly clean.

So by the time Guilliman returns, they've gone from about a hundred Marines to five and a half companies. Plus dreadnoughts, all that. Nobody cares that they're doing Night Lords shit to the planets they attack, because it's done in the name of the (False) Emperor.

Everything goes swimmingly until the Chapter Master gets summoned to meet Guilliman and receive the chapter's allotment of Primaris.

Guilliman takes one look at him, chokeslams him to the floor, and demands to know why a traitor like him should be let live.

"All hail the False Emperor."

Guilliman listens to his elevator pitch, sighs, and then tells him that he's going to be keeping a eye on that chapter, and sending him back with a different contingent of Primaris.

---

Org- wise, they still have ten standard companies. But that's where the similarity ends. The first squad of each company is terminators and veterans, and the tenth is scouts. And each company's marines are trained as more than tactical- one through four are trained in jump packs, five thru seven in bikes, eight in speeders, and nine and ten as devastators. The training emphasis is on mentorships between the veterans and regular marines, and the regular marines and scouts.

When the Primaris arrive, up to two squads are assigned to each battle company, and they get worked into the mentorships. (Edit: But, about 100 of the "old guard" are *never* up for Crossing the Rubicon. They're the ones who were the original hundred- ish Night Lords.) And those Primaris- of unspecified geneseed- are let in on the secret.

By the end of M41, the first through third, fifth and sixth, and ninth companies are combat- ready. The eighth is at half strength. It's rumored the seventh won't be combat ready until the Imperium is willing to accept jetbikes again.

They really do have a couple of Mk.14 jetbikes, but they're not used because it'd be too much of a lift for even gullible Imperials.

---

Genetic- wise, they're hard to distinguish from Raven Guard other than a mutation to the neuroglottis. Impalers have multiple pheromone- sensitive pits in their tongues, which are attuned to the stress hormones related to fear. So they can taste human fear.

They're also cannibals. They can and will eat humans, under the leadership of their chaplains and apothecaries. They try to play it off as a religious observance, but... I mean, they're really Night Lords so they probably just like doing it.

---

Armor, worth noting they use a weird pattern of armor based on reverse- engineering some Mk.2 and Mk.3 armors they had lying around. They refer to their armor as Mk.2a.

---

I think that's it. Hope someone likes this. It's probably as close as they'll ever get to seeing the tabletop. At this point, if I got back into 40k, I'd probably play Eldar.

[formosusiniquis]

Water is wet, the sky is blue, and Eddie Munson is a music snob.

Sure, he listens to more music than Steve even knew existed. Sure, he can curate a playlist that gets you from Korn to Disney without it feeling jarring. Sure, he can give you a full college quality lecture on the history of modern rock and metal and how it can all be traced back to the blues.

But he’s also the same guy who brutally eviscerates anything that even approaches popularity. He’s watched Eddie drop bands the second their music starts making radio play because it’s a short trip to an album that’s been engineered in a lab for maximum radio play.

An educated music snob is still a snob is the point.

But the rest of their friend group is also a collection of snobs and bitches, so when Eddie suggested they do a Spotify Wrapped viewing party it quickly became an annual tradition. They all make sure they have the night off when the Wrapped drops, meeting up at Steve’s house where they spend the night stuffing their faces and roasting each other for the music that made up their soundtrack to the year.

Eddie the Snobbish is of course the most vocal critic.

“Girl in Red, Buckley, really? There is such a thing as leaning too far into the stereotype.”

“Get fucked, Munson, they’re my number five.”

“And your number two is Hayley Kiyoko, but she’s actually good so I kept her out of it. Honestly, it’d be faster to just shout from the rooftops that you’re queer.”

“Yeah, yeah, wait ‘til we get to you, Eddie.”

“I drew 7 so you’ll have to wait a little bit longer.

It goes like that all night. Eddie makes at least one comment about each person’s wrapped as the night goes on. But then everyone takes at least one crack at the others. From listen time to top genres nothing is safe and nothing is sacred. Sometimes the only comment needed is the sounds of nine other people shrieking in laughter because Accidentally in Love from the Shrek 2 soundtrack cracked your top 5.

“Seriously, Sinclair, the rest of it is so good!”

“I refuse to be critiqued by the same man I caught singing Nickelback last week.”

“Damn, seeing the family resemblance between you and Lady Applejack now.”

Sometimes his mockery is flavored like concern.

“William, the top .05% of Mitski listeners? Do you need help? Should we call your mom? This feels like a cry for help.”

“She’s classically trained, musically a genius. Sorry, we can’t all spend our time listening to Ozzy struggle through a basic melody.”

And Eddie isn’t afraid to get other people in on his snobbery.

“Ten bucks, Stevie, your little Dusty has Weird Al in his top 5.”

“I don’t make bets, I know I’m going to lose. That’d be like saying ‘I bet he’s going to have Neverending Story in his top 5’, it’s practically guaranteed.”

Robin’s not as afraid to get involved, “Five bucks, Neverending Story is his number 1.”

“Oh you’re on, Bucks, no way it’s not a parody.”

They’re both wrong, deciding that neither is out the money, and Steve wishing he had gone ahead and bet when it turns out to be a movie instrumental. “He can’t listen to music with words when he’s building shit, and he’s always tinkering with something in his room.”

“It was from the Neverending Story soundtrack, I still think that means I win.”

“Absolutely not.”

It’s always a big moment when it’s finally Eddie’s turn, he’s the whole reason they had to start drawing their places at random. He spends so much time talking shit about everyone else’s music taste that by the time his turn rolls around half the group is ravenous, a pack of feral dogs snarling at a feast before them,  ready to give him a taste of his own medicine.

The earliest bits are the most boring. The strange emotion tags are always a little jarring, though no one is surprised when spooky makes its way onto Eddie’s. It’s a little concerning just how much time Eddie is clocking on Spotify, “Over 40,000 minutes, Eddie, that’s almost an entire month.”

“How come your math is never that quick when you’re adding up your damage, Henderson?”

And then Spotify helpfully announces that Eddie Munson's most played song of the year is Head Over Heels by Tears for fucking Fears, clocking in at 267 plays. 

It could go without saying that all hell then breaks loose, but then not saying it makes it sound like a regular amount of hell is breaking loose. And not the kind of hell that can only come from a room full of people who show their affection through ruthless teasing and mockery finding a massive hole in the armor of someone who had spent most of their friendship unassailable.

It’s mean. It’s targeted. It’s the standard brand of teasing that this group is built on.

It would be a lot funnier if Eddie, someone who is normally pretty good about taking the same kind of shit that he deals out, didn’t look like he wanted the floor to swallow him up.

The jokes all reach a logical end. The kids have a killer’s instinct when it comes to weakness, but they’re soft where it counts, and there’s not a joke in the world that’s still funny when it’s being laughed at instead of with.

And Steve, normally the first to tease Eddie about his dad rock playlist can’t think of a single thing to say that isn’t going to come out, “Why was your day with the most listens right after the weekend trip we took for my birthday?”

That wasn’t going to be, “Do you want this the way that I do?”

The rest of the reveal is standard, nearly 19 hours of playtime does put Tears for Fears in the 5th spot of Eddie’s Top Artists but no one comments on it. Steve doesn’t even make fun of Eddie for being the only person under 40 to still listen to Metallica.

Because he’s finally found something to say that isn’t going to come out, “Do you know someone else who only listens to new wave or do listen to that song and think about me?”

“I’m going next.” Eddie finally, finally, makes eye contact with him instead of staring out into the middle distance. Maybe his announcement does sound more like, ‘let me say it back.’

“Steve, you drew last. Nancy’s next.”

Nancy, who knows him uniquely. Knows him in a way that no one, except maybe Eddie one day, ever will. Nancy cuts through the bullshit decisively. “Steve can go next.”

“No appreciation for the rules, why do we even have them?”

Steve does not give a single shit about his wrapped outside of it being a source of amusement for his friends. His taste in music is as close to nonexistent as it gets and, really, if he’s going to listen to something he’s probably going to pick a book over music if he’s by himself.

Except this year.

The teasing is a little tamer now. Normally, Steve is happy to take the brunt of it. 

From Eddie picking at his lack of taste. “Pick a genre, Steve, god.” 

To the kids joining in because they want to impress Eddie, “Can you even listen to the playlist without getting whiplash? I Will Survive to Part of Your World, jeez.” Nevermind that they’re both basically power ballads, and Wheeler can mock but I Will Survive was the soundtrack to his break up with Nance and sometimes he wants to be both nostalgic and angry-sad. 

This year is quiet, like they’re worried they went too far with Eddie and now they’re afraid to take shots at their other favorite babysitter.

It’s fine. Steve has pretty much unfailingly had one song playing at any point anymore. Maybe it took him a little longer than April, but he knows without a doubt what his top song of the year is going to be.

Eddie takes the armchair for Wrapped nights, he’s the meanest normally and says he wants to be out of the direct line of fire of any noogies or Robin’s lethal elbows. It means Steve has to reach to kick the side of the chair to make sure Eddie is watching.

Rainbow in the Dark was Steve’s number one song this year with 171 plays.

And maybe it would be appropriate to say that all hell breaks loose once again. Steve wouldn’t really know, too busy staring at Eddie. He’s in the eye of the storm now, while chaos breaks out around him Steve can only wait to see how Eddie reacts.

Wonders if that pink blush is because Eddie realizes that the day he repeated it the most was right after he heard Eddie play it for the first time. Fell asleep to it playing on repeat, thinking about Eddie’s fingers and Eddie’s smile, drowning out the sounds of fireworks that still trigger panic.

"It makes me think of you," Eddie, brave and shy and only hiding part of his face behind his hair, answers the only question Steve needed answered.

"Yeah," he agrees, hoping it sounds less like a breathless demand for reassurance and more like, 'listening to this song all year was the closest I could get to imagining what it could be like having you.'

"Yeah." And Steve hears, 'I  still expect to be wined and dined, Harrington.' Maybe because it's the kind of silly request Eddie would make, or maybe he just likes giving the people he cares about everything he can.

"But seriously, Stevie, why the fuck is Careless Whisper in your top 5? It should be a crime for Dio and George Michael to be that close together."

[sidabro]

had a dream me and two very cunty chic mutuals hosted a party, a really heavy lowwwww bass slow techno one, where the setting was just carpeted floor and soo many places to sleep. everyone was wearing weird socks and drinking absinthe with beer, everything was tinted purple with the lights and there were four fridges in the room, maybe more..i got super drunk and fancied three men in there, so much so i spontaneously oil painted them, there, while being drunk so. After the party ended, one of the friends stayed behind to sleep there (it was her home?) and with the other one hand-in-hand and giggling and talkinag about Mozart and Plato (idk) we went to my home to have a good sleep. we walked across streets of a very soviet hugecity vibed territory, and came to a cement bridge over some tiny rivulet that led further down the road by a huge maxima and the blockhouse that i then took her up to. Somehow, i didnt have my keys; nor phone nor anything. She laughed at me very hard and said that its okay, that happens, we can walk back because walking is healthy and makes you less drunk <3 i was in love with her so i said okay, and we stumbled back down. Once we were ready to pass the bridge again, the toiletpaperpeople (people who deliver your toiletpaper the same way a milkman does) had discarded eight huge 12-packs supposedly enough for whole neighbourhood on the bridge, effectivelly for some reason making a wall. i said something very funny that made her laugh. Maybe it was a reference to the berlin wall. It was hillarious, we laughed all the way back, passed by green trolleybuses and black ravens circling us that imitated the clacking sounds the electric wires made. We came back to the partyplace (unlocked doors and everyone was just sleeping off drunkness aand bass-sickness (somehow a thing that was avoided by not smoking weed and not having sex while any sort of music plays?) and i got my bag and we set out for the second time to my home, where I confessed to her about seeing three men that really cought my eye. She kept teasing me until I told her that all of them looked like some sort of wizards, but one in particular, with ginger hair, looked like he would be sooo cute with a bucket stuck on his head for some reasonnnn <333 i was blushing and gushing and she sortof womanhandled me, teasing and saying ''well if you just want i can connect you with them.. i know who they areee...'' despite me insisting that i dont think any of that would work. we finaly reached my bed, falling to sleep with shoes and outside coats on, a pile of limbs and breathing into eachothers necks. It was very sweet.. In morning so, I got woken up by her saying that someone is here for me. Figuring it was my painting-buyer, i murmured to ''give him the painting by the door and let me sleep'', having in mind some piece with a great navy ship, but of course she handed that blond ginger saxon douchebag looking dude the painting of him all cute with a bucket on his head. He walked into my room knocking and once i jumped up staring at him eagle eyed he became a tumblr post (?) of a picture of himself holding two large fish by the tails and a poll that was like. "well if yo're seres aboot fancyin me lass and are above 18, i promise this: (i will listen to folklore by taylor swift) (the benzonian genacaide in Ghuirine islands needs aur full attention)(i canne make a MEAN scottish pie) (ill try to stewp bein bri ish for you) (i bought you a prussian ww4 metalleon as a givt) (i only want you to cook 1nce a week), and he somehow expressed being a tumblr poll post with his mouth while holding and turning my painting of himself sideways, as if trying to decipher whats depicted, and for all that i was SO absolutelly perplexed and wide-eyed sober understanding that thats the weirdest guy on earth by a margin and that i really dont like him being in my home, and i cannot handle two more weirdos walking in, i woke up..

[librosamarillos]

passed down like folk songs

chapter 34: never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Ceryse had spent the whole day packing. It was a rushed decision to leave, but she couldn't take it anymore. She made sure Martyn had sent a raven to their father to tell him to expect her arrival soon, and then she made sure that every single thing she owned was in a case, in the carriage that would take her back to her home. The last strange and off-putting year of her life, all packed and ready to go.

She looked around the now empty room, trying to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, when her Goodmother walked in. It caught her completely off guard, as they had both been avoiding each other ever since she had married into the family. Ceryse could never read Visenya’s expression, but at least she could tell she didn’t look upset. 

“You’re leaving.” she said plainly. Not at all a question, just a statement. Visenya looked at her, her face unreadable, but Ceryse didn’t shudder under her unnerving eyes. She couldn’t let her get the best of her. She refused to lose her patience, no matter how much she wanted to scream at her. 

“I am.” she nodded, mirroring her plain tone. “You must be pleased.” she added, seeing as Visenya seemed to be content with standing in complete silence. Gods, how did Rowan manage to be around her so much without losing her mind? Her goodmother did not seem offended by the comment.

“I am not, believe it or not. I do think it’ll be what’s best for the time being.” she shook her head slightly. She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone, like it should’ve been obvious to Ceryse that she wanted her to stay, even though she had made it so clearly obvious that she couldn’t stand her. She had made it so clear that she was not the bride she wanted for her son, so much so that she caused such a mess by performing a whole new wedding for him.

“The time being?” Ceryse asked, raising a brow. Did she expect this to be like a long vacation? A small, awkward pause followed. It seemed that she had expected Ceryse to read her mind or something.

“Yes. Perhaps it’s best for you to be with your family until things settle down.” she finally explained further. Ceryse supposed this could’ve come from a good place, a place of worry for her safety, but it only unnerved her more. Did she expect something dangerous to happen to the half-built palace? The dowager Queen looked around the room, before furrowing her brows. “You’ve packed everything?” she asked, her tone disapproving, implying that she shouldn't take everything with her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever return.” Ceryse answered honestly, seeing no reason to lie to the unnerving woman before her. All the Targaryens had an unnerving aura around them, but the two that had the strongest ones were Visenya and Maegor. Aenys was the one that acted more like a normal person. Visenya shook her head again, as if what Ceryse had told her was just a suggestion.

“You will. In the future. To a much calmer palace.” she replied. There was something ominous in her tone, something that made Ceryse worry. She couldn’t foresee Aenys taking charge and fixing all the uprisings and problems that kept appearing, so was she planning to take control instead? Should that worry her, since she had ruled for years in the past? Visenya sighed, before speaking up again.

“Things were not ideal for you, and I’ve played a part in that. One day we’ll make up for that.” she said, her tone much more human and sincere this time. It caught Ceryse even more by surprise, as this was probably the first time in the year that she knew her, that she saw Visenya act as anything other than a harsh Queen. She could almost be mistaken as apologetic. “Goodbye, Ceryse.” she said, and left her alone in her room to finish packing.

The conversation kept repeating over and over in her mind, as the carriage kept going. It was by far the most ominous goodbye she had ever received. Lana and Rowan gave her a tearful goodbye, Rowan especially sad to see her go. Ceryse made her promise to visit, as she couldn’t think of a better escape from the absolute insanity going on in that family. As she had mentioned it to her brothers, it came to light that she wasn’t the only Hightower to invite Rowan to Oldtown.

“And you just invited her like that?” Ceryse asked, jokingly kicking her younger brother on the knee. She didn’t want to dwell on her goodmother on the long way home, she’d have time to worry about it from the comfort of her room. For now, she could at least laugh at her youngest brother and his attempts at flirting.

“What do you mean?” Morgan asked, almost offended at the implication, crossing his arms right away. In so many ways, he still acted like he used to when they were young and she’d tease him. 

“Awkwardly, in a hallway while your sister is upset in the room right behind you?” Martyn stated, raising a brow in amusement. Gods be good, Ceryse could almost picture the surprise on Rowan’s face. Now she was wishing she hadn’t left in such a rush, because she would’ve loved to make fun of her brother with her best friend. 

“How romantic, Morgan!” she exclaimed, giving him a pat on the shoulder. His face even managed to make Martyn laugh, despite his anger. All three siblings were angry at what had happened, but seeing her eldest brother crack a smile was certainly a soothing thing. 

“It wasn’t awkward!” Morgan defended himself, but seemed to realise that anything else he said would be used against him to be teased relentlessly, so he just kept pouting, promising his siblings that he’d rather continue the journey on horseback than to be stuck with them teasing him.

“Of course it wasn’t.” Ceryse said, shaking her head. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have Rowan visit with her father. Their own father had been a bit ill and seeing an old friend again would make him feel much better for sure. And perhaps they’d conclude their reunification with a proposal, a match between her brother and Rowan. It would be a nice occasion to have a wedding that Ceryse would look forward to. And the fact that her closest friend would remain close to her. 

It was something that just hung up in the air with uncertainty, what would happen when her husband would return from exile. Would she be expected to return by his side and pretend it’s all well and good? In what world would his actions be somehow accepted after some time passed? No, she wouldn’t return at all. She couldn’t stand the thought of his stupid fucking face. He’d have to come drag her out of the hightower with Balerion himself if he cared so much to do so.

Returning back home to Oldtown filled her lungs with air again. She finally felt like she could breathe. She was home, where everything was just as she remembered it being. Her father even had the rare show of pure relief to see her and embrace her again. She tried not to dwell on any feeling of failure, the thought that if she had given Maegor an heir, then none of this would’ve happened. But no one blamed her, no one looked at her with any contempt, instead they all welcomed her back home warmly. 

Their father had invited them to speak, to try and make sense of what to do in the future, when a young squire ran in the room, bringing a letter with the unmistakable Targaryen seal. Their father took the letter from the boy’s hands and dismissed him. All three of his children looked at him with curious eyes, a silent question waiting to be answered. 

“What does the letter say, father?” Martyn spoke up, his arms crossed. Ceryse herself was alarmed. She had just been able to breathe and relax in her own home, would the King have demanded she return? No, surely not, it made no sense. The last time she saw Aenys, he only gave her an ashamed, but apologetic look. He wouldn’t demand her presence.

“It’s not just a letter.” her father’s voice caught her attention again. “It’s an invitation.” he added, reading it again and again, which worried his three children even more. It was as if he couldn’t believe what he was reading and wanted to make sure of it before he spoke it out loud. Now she was confused, they all were. 

“An invitation? To what?” she asked. He certainly wouldn’t be throwing a feast for no reason. There weren’t any holidays coming up, and there were certainly more important things for the King to address before he threw a big feast to celebrate. 

“To a wedding.” their father responded, his eyes still scanning the letter over and over again. That was certainly not what anyone was expecting. A wedding? 

“A royal wedding?” she asked. “But all the King’s children are still so young.” she added. Rhaena was the eldest one, had he found her a match already? He had never mentioned to Ceryse that he’d even been searching for a match, but she supposed it was only normal for him to want to find his daughter a good match. She was his only daughter and his firstborn, it was expected that he’d be more attached to her. But still, a wedding? At her young age, Rhaena should only be betrothed, nothing more. Was he trying to marry her off to avoid some scandal? But Princess Rhaena was always in line, never one to care about boys.

“The King believes that it is ‘the perfect time’ for Rhaena and Aegon to marry. Each other.” their father finally said, after leaving them in silence for a moment. 

Silence filled the room, like they all didn’t want to believe what they just heard. Did she hear that right? Was the King somehow planning to marry his two young children to each other? Disgust was clear on everyone’s faces. There had been this unspoken understanding that the Targaryens would adapt the Westerosi culture, as Aegon and his sisters accepted the faith of the seven. It was clear that incest was a huge sin, absolutely no cause for celebration. All the disgust aside, Princess Rhaena couldn’t have been bleeding for longer than a year, and Prince Aegon had just now started using a real sword in his training.

Ceryse knew Aegon better than his sister. He was a quiet boy, but not too shy, who followed all his lessons dutifully. He was always polite to her and they would sometimes chat, and she had promised to teach him Cyvasse one day, if he did well in his lessons. He did have a more mischievous side to him, as he loved playing pranks with Rhaena. 

Rhaena, she didn’t see much, as she would spend all of her free time flying with Dreamfyre. During feasts and gatherings, she was more introverted and shy, and Ceryse always got the impression that being around people would tire the young Princess. She was not one to socialise, much to Queen Alyssa’s dismay. 

That’s how Ceryse viewed them as; children. To ever imagine that the two would be soon bound by marriage, it was wrong, so very wrong. She could not imagine being forced to marry one of her brothers, it was unnatural and a disgrace to even think about. 

“Who would even perform such a ceremony?” Martyn finally broke the silence in the room, turning to their father, who offered him the letter to inspect as well. He read it, and offered it to her as well, as he crossed his arms. Ceryse scanned it, hoping to discover that this was a misunderstanding of some sort, but no. It was indeed a formal invitation, in the writing of the King himself, which meant he specifically wrote to them to invite them. 

“No septon would ever perform such a sin.” Morgan frowned, shaking his head in pure disbelief. Did Aenys realise what he had just done? Part of her hoped that he had only written to them, that they could burn this letter and pretend it never happened, for the consequences would be severe.

“Murmison. He would do it.” she finally said, finding her voice again. That man had been whispering in the King’s ear, she was certain that he had a role to play in this. He should’ve prevented the King from doing this, but Ceryse knew that he was encouraging it all. Was it out of foolishness, or was he that eager to have war declared on her goodbrother?

“Uncle will be furious once he hears of this.” Martyn said. He was right. Their uncle would certainly not be silent, not when he had been waiting for the dragonlords to step out of line. Had Aenys written to him? Invited him to perform the ceremony himself?

“Does he really expect us to go? To support this?” Morgan asked, looking at her directly. Ceryse frowned deeply. She couldn’t for the life of her understand how Aenys was thinking. And Alyssa? Where was she in all of this? How could she be okay with this? Then again, she was a Velaryon, she would be used to these customs.

“I don’t know what he expects to happen. I don’t even think he understands this is like a declaration for war.” she sighed, handing the letter to Morgan, so he’d get a turn in reading it too. Gods, she had only been gone half a fortnight, and now this was happening.

“The poor kids.” Morgan sighed, disgust clear on his face. “They’re stuck in this.” he said, returning the letter to the hands of their father. Morgan had only seen the Princess and Prince a few times, but he certainly did not think they were ready to be wed, let alone to be following this disgusting custom.

“Gods be good. What has he done?” Manfred Hightower pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he never let his only daughter get involved with the Targaryens at all.

Rowan quietly watched as the Queen helped her daughter adjust the intricate headpiece, which she was not used to wearing. It was strange and sad to watch this little girl about to enter a woman’s role when she was barely fifteen years of age. Could Rhaena even comprehend why everyone seemed so uneasy, so disgusted with the match? How could she? She was just a child, brought up with the idea that it was her duty and honour as a Targaryen, how could she speak against her match?

The only positive Rowan saw in this was that the young Prince and Princess got along very well and already spent a lot of time together. Princess Rhaena would not be stuck with a harsh and impossible husband, but rather someone she knew well and got along with. The thought of that gave her some semblance of peace, if she looked past the massive catastrophe this match would bring along with it. 

The dowager Queen had left the room where Alyssa was preparing her daughter for the announcement of the betrothal, taking Rowan with her. She never spent any time with her grandchildren, well, they weren’t really. She herself had never called them that. Rowan was glad to be out of the room though, as it only filled her with dread for what was to come. Helping Visenya prepare for court was a much more familiar and calming act.

“Does this disgust you greatly?” Visenya asked as Rowan brushed through her long silver locks. While she never brought it up to her before, she was sure her face betrayed her feelings. She wasn’t disgusted by the children, of course not, but the whole practice was…

“It’s… unusual. I thought this tradition would end after you all converted to the faith of the seven.” she answered, beginning to braid her hair in the updo she preferred. She never lied to her, never feared telling her how she felt about anything, she saw no reason to start now. Visenya gave her an understanding look.

“No, my girl. This tradition is an important one. Do you not remember what I taught you of Old Valyria? You were the most diligent of students.” she asked again. Rowan loved to learn, still did, but she loved it when the former Queen would teach her, when she’d recite stories and tell her of the history. Of course she remembered.

“I understand that it was to ensure the family fortune would remain within the family. But the crown would still belong to the Targaryens regardless of who Aegon marries.” she replied, but still had her doubts. It wasn’t like they’d be losing out on fortune, if anything the practice stopped them from getting more resources. 

“It’s much more than that, you know this.” Visenya said, handing her a golden clip to pin the braid she had just finished. Rowan paused for a moment, knowing exactly what she was alluding to. She nodded.

“Rhaena has a dragon. That’s what must remain within the family.” she said, continuing with her brushing and braiding. Keeping the dragons within the family, that would be the wisest thing to do. It’s what set the Targaryens apart, what granted them the power, giving away would be foolish. But then it only brought up more questions for Rowan. If Rhaena had no dragon, would she be free of the practice? Was every Targaryen woman bound to the practice if she wanted to have a dragon of her own? 

“There you go.” she smiled, nodding. Rowan wanted to ask more, so much more, but there wasn’t much time, and their relationship was still healing. She wondered often if Visenya had ever questioned it, or ever felt like rejecting the practice altogether. Had she always known she was to marry her own brother, or had she been made aware when she was older? Rowan knew that she always loved Aegon, but was there ever a time when it all felt wrong?

“Still… you know nobody will accept this. There will be repercussions.” she added, trying to focus more on the task at hand. She worried about riots, about something more serious happening. Riots had been happening here and there, but once the news of this broke out, Rowan couldn’t imagine what that could bring up. Visenya seemed eerily calm.

“I do not doubt it. Perhaps my nephew will finally grow a spine, who knows?” she asked lightheartedly. Rowan had given up trying to get Visenya to care a bit more about Aenys. She understood that there was simply too much there, but she had hoped she’d at least be on his side a little bit more.

“It’s just difficult to accept, I suppose.” she sighed, taking another golden clip from Visenya’s hand, making sure the braid had a perfect place. Even when she was young, she found the marriage between the three conquerors disturbing and wrong, before she knew all that lay beneath the surface. Now that she was a woman grown, everything just appeared more disturbing, especially when it came to the young Princess and Prince. Visenya gave her a sympathetic smile.

“My dear girl… you know that, had you married Maegor, the children you two had together would follow this practice, do you not?” she asked. Rowan’s movements stopped entirely. She looked at her through the mirror with shock. Rowan absolutely had dreams of having a family with Maegor, she had loved him so much, for so long, but none of those dreams involved… this. She wanted to raise her children in the faith, to find them all happy matches for their futures, she never thought the incestious tradition would carry on. Visenya immediately looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry… It’s easier when you don’t think too much about it. Think of them as cousins, if it helps.” she said, quickly changing the subject. She supposed if she pretended they were cousins, while still disturbing, it would be easier. 

“Are there… news?” Rowan asked after a moment of silence. “From Pentos?” she added, looking away from the former Queen’s gaze in the mirror, continuing to braid her hair. Rowan knew she shouldn’t ask, she knew it would be easier on her shattered heart to not hear from him at all, to ignore his very existence, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t pretend he wasn’t on her mind at all times. The dowager Queen shook her head lightly, as to not disturb her from working on her hair.

“Nothing groundbreaking. He offered to send me some exotic herbs he found at the markets.” Visenya sighed with a small smile forming on her lips. Rowan heard lots of things about the markets of Pentos, especially the ones near the port. Any city near or on a port was to have prosperous markets, but Pentos had a lot of interesting things. She almost smiled at the sweet gesture of him sending his mother something he knew she loved. “He was very pleased to hear of your project.” she added. Rowan blushed, shaking her head.

“It’s hardly my project. I only offered to help support the septon get the approval from his grace.” she answered quickly. She never wanted to give out the impression that she was somehow in charge of this. It made her blush when she thought of him being happy to hear about her news, and if she ignored everything else that happened, she would even smile with joy. But she couldn’t forget what he did. 

“And help them plan it, and finance most of it?” Visenya asked with a raised brow and a smile. Rowan met her gaze through the mirror, suddenly feeling very shy. The septon asked for her help because she and her father were constant presences in that space, and have helped a lot since the city had formed. He also knew that she had some wealthy friends that would help if needed, and indeed with Ceryse’s help, the contributions to the expansion grew greatly. It wasn’t like Rowan was the one laying the bricks.

“I only offered to help where I could…” she trailed, feeling somehow embarrassed. Visenya’s smile did not falter, however. 

“He wanted you to know he was proud of you. As am I.” she said warmly, as Rowan placed the last braid in its place. She felt like she hadn’t done so much to earn their pride, as kind as it was for them to say. 

“I…”

“Do not deflect my pride now. I know you are one of the most capable people in this city, and certainly the one I trust the most.” Visenya countered her doubts before she could even speak them out loud. Rowan looked down for a moment. Why were they proud of her? What had she done to earn pride? She shook her head lightly.

“You flatter me too much.” she said, taking the brush from the vanity. For a moment, the air between them felt light again. 

“I do not spare flattery.” the dowager Queen countered once more, this time more firmly. She could already hear the sentences she wanted to add about not being too humble and that she was capable of doing great things. Rowan wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it at the moment. “I did hear someone, a certain knight, has invited you to Oldtown?” she asked, changing the subject completely.

“Ser Morgan. Yes, he invited both my father and I.” she answered, a bit surprised that anyone had told her. She’d have to ask one day, maybe she’d reveal how she got to know everything that happened within the palace walls. 

“For tea and a chat?” Visenya asked, her tone clearly urging her to say more.

“For a few moons.” Rowan replied, reaching for the hair oil on the vanity, to finish and perfect her hair. She wasn’t sure how she’d even approach this. 

“Rowan, I know the past year has been hard on you, on your heart, but have you not given any thought to a suitor? I understand Tybolt Lannister was not your ideal choice, but this time, this one seems more serious.” she said, turning to now face her. Her eyes were sympathetic, apologetic too, as she seemed to understand how much this still affected her so deeply. Rowan let out a small sigh.

“I know. Ser Morgan is a lovely man. He would make a fine match, but… I only feel guilty.” she confessed, looking to the floor in shame. Morgan, in truth, was a dream match in every sense. It would unite their houses once more and strengthen their bond, not to mention they got along very well, and she’d get to live in Oldtown, which she had always wanted, plus she’d be Ceryse’s family. How many women would be this lucky to have a potential match be this good and compatible? And yet…

“Because he has taken a liking to you?” she asked, a look of disbelief on her features. 

“Because it would be unfair. I cannot dedicate my heart to him…” she replied. Rowan felt so spoiled and ungrateful at that moment. Well, truly, during the whole time Morgan was showing interest. He was absolutely lovely, a man difficult to come by, a man that her father would be so happy to marry her off to. And yet she still loved Maegor with all her heart. It was so unfair, so cruel. Visenya grabbed her hand softly, getting her attention once more.

“You need not devote your heart. Most do not. You know how marriages are planned, you’ve known since you were young. I’m sure that with time, it will be easier.” she stated softly. It was true, it wasn’t even unheard of for a couple to meet at the altar for the very first time, then slowly start to care for each other. Love could grow where people nurtured it, yes, but Rowan felt like she’d be lying to him, that she was betraying him before a betrothal was even suggested out loud.

“I don’t know…” she sighed again. In truth, she wasn’t even sure when she’d visit. Her father was travelling to sell their house’s wood and honey to their usual buyers, great houses all over the kingdoms. And Rowan wanted to stay here, as much as she yearned for home and for Oldtown, she felt like she had to stay by the King’s side, as well as Visenya’s.  “You’d be alright with me living in Oldtown?” she asked, this time more lightheartedly.

“Certainly not. I’d have him stationed here, to keep you close to me. Who better to keep you safe than Vhagar?” Visenya smiled again, shaking her head. The air felt light again. Rowan smiled at the mention of the dragon, shaking her head as well.

“I don’t think we’ll need to bother her with my protection, I doubt it’ll come to that.” she said. She couldn’t imagine a situation where she’d need Vhagar to help. She stayed away from trouble, followed every rule, she hoped there was never anything that serious directed at her.

“You know she’s grown fond of you. How long must I push you to join me for a flight? Just a short one, over the city.” the dowager Queen asked. She loved to fly. In her own words, it was one of the only places she felt safe to be herself. It was safe to be up in the clouds where nothing could touch you, freeing even. It was an honour she even offered for Rowan to join her at all.

“You know dragons frighten me! I can be around her, but that’s about it.” Rowan shook her head again. Maegor and Visenya had gotten her to touch her scales a few times, once even getting her to pet her snout, all while clinging onto Maegor for dear life, of course. But flying? No, Rowan couldn’t find it in herself to entertain the idea. Her cousin, Erin, always made fun of her about it, calling it a huge missed opportunity. Perhaps Rowan could invite her to join the former Queen. The thought made her smile.

“Mark my words, my girl, one day I’ll get you to join me. Let it be before I’m too old to climb on the saddle.” Visenya smiled lightly again. 

“I cannot promise that to you.” Rowan countered, a more playful tone in her voice now. Visenya smiled, seeming glad. She got up, checking her hair in the mirror before giving Rowan a look of approval and thanking her.

“Now come. Let us go, the King awaits.” she said, leading her to the throne room, where the lords and ladies of the court awaited. 

The announcement was not met with any joy, as Aenys had been certain of, but disapproval and awkwardness and disgust. Silent judgement from the lords and ladies who still wished to be on the King’s good graces, as well as fake smiles, but some even responded with outright animosity. It was heartbreaking to watch the young Princess and Prince’s smiles drop at the reaction, and the confusion in their eyes as they looked toward their mother and father for answers. Rowan also worried for the Queen. Her pregnancy had been giving her a hard time this time around, and the maesters had strongly suggested a calm and relaxing environment.

Aenys was devastated, his hopes crushed. But the worst was yet to come. A raven from Oldtown, from the HIgh Septon himself, declaring the match an abomination, an act against the gods, and threatening heavy repercussions should the betrothal not be broken right away. 

Rowan had been helping Visenya with her correspondence when Aenys rushed through the doors, the distress clear on his face, the letter in his trembling hand. Before Rowan could even react, Visenya spoke up.

“Nephew.” she greeted him firmly, the way she always did. She seemed so calm, like she was expecting things to play out this very way.

“Your grace.” Rowan greeted, far more formally and with worry in her eyes at his state. Aenys only nodded in acknowledgement, trying to catch his breath from rushing here.

“I… I do not know what to do.” he said, his voice betraying confusion and even fear. Rowan had already gotten up from the desk where she was writing the dowager Queen’s letters, and felt so bad she wanted to give him a hug. But she remained in her spot.

“With what?” Visenya asked, despite knowing exactly why, as it was so clear and obvious. Rowan looked at her with pleading eyes, silently begging her to be kind to him, especially with how clearly distressed he was. These were his children that were affected, and therefore he was more stressed than ever before.

“With this.” he said, handing his aunt the letter with his shaking hand. As Visenya read, Rowan wondered if he was angry. He seemed worried, even fearful, but was he not at least a little bit angry at the reactions he had received? Visenya finished reading, and handed the letter to Rowan. She read quickly, worried to see what had happened.

“It’s quite simple, nephew. Either you break the betrothal and find new matches for your daughter and son, or take your dragon to Oldtown and have the High Septon answer to him.” she replied bluntly. Rowan visibly stiffened at the suggestion of violence, as did Aenys, but Visenya was unflinching, almost challenging him, sizing him up to see if he’d do it. 

“I do not wish for my reign to be one of war.” he finally spoke up, but it wasn’t a firm statement of a King. It was like a plea, a prayer of sorts, perhaps even to the gods if he believed in them instead of just claiming them in name, the way Visenya and Maegor did. The former Queen scoffed at him like he was an annoying child.

“You are a blind fool if you think you can avoid this. How do you think we conquered Westeros? By asking everyone nicely by raven?” she asked, crossing her arms. The tension between the two grew quickly, as Aenys straightened his back and his mouth thinned. 

An awkward silence followed, before Aenys turned his lilac eyes to Rowan.

“What do you think?” he asked, catching her off-guard. She was not used to giving opinions on matters as important, and quite frankly scary, as this one. If anything, she’d be looking to Visenya and her father for answers, but she understood that the King did not have that luxury.

“Me?” Rowan asked, completely surprised. Visenya seemed curious to what approach she’d advise him to take as well. “I… I do not know if you can reach a compromise with the faith on this subject, not so suddenly. Marrying a cousin, that’s not unheard of, but a sibling? A marriage of this kind would be the first performed in this realm.” she said gently. Aenys looked at her in a way she did not think was possible. His eyes widened and he looked betrayed and hurt, making Rowan almost gasp.

“You agree with him, with the HIgh Septon. You think we are abominations.” he said, his tone not accusatory, but hurt. Rowan was quick to shake her head, to walk closer to him.

“No, no, Aenys, I do not think that of you, of any of you. Although I admit that the practice is very strange and foreign, it does not sway my loyalty to you.” she said, trying to assure him, as he looked to be in huge distress. He studied her face for a moment, his expression not changing, before Visenya sighed and spoke up.

“If she thought us disgusting, she would not voluntarily remain in our presence and service, nephew, let alone offer us her help. She speaks the truth. You cannot negotiate with the High Septon. Either you stand your ground, or you break the betrothal.” she repeated her stance, looking at him expectantly. But Aenys gave no answer. He turned around and left. Rowan assumed it would be to go discuss this with Alyssa, even with Rhaena and Aegon as well.

After that day, Rowan awaited nervously for a decision. Visenya would pat her gently on the shoulder when she saw her pick at her fingertips, a small comfort. When the King’s decision was made, one thing was certain. War. 

In the sept of Remembrance, the sept built on the Hill of Rhaenys in her memory. That’s where the wedding would taka place. For once, the King stood his ground and made a firm decision. Unfortunately, this decision would only mean war. The very people of King’s Landing were turning against him, when just one year ago, those same people cheered for him and his ascension to the throne. 

Rowan had never seen a reaction so huge, so negative and extreme, this against the crown, and so unanimous. Even with Visenya assuring her safety, Rowan still drowned in worry, for her family, her father, her friends, for the people, for Aenys, for everyone and everything.

She wished Maegor was here.

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