#road to queendom

[wulfhalls]

rant time because i have no friends to talk about asoiaf with but I hate the whole rhaenyra x alicent thing. olivia cooke i love you but please the whole thing is so forced why can't they just adapt something without fucking with the source material!!! i want evil milf alicent having beef with a nine year old rhaenyra!!! also if they fuck daeron i don't answer for my actions

u with a gun to ryan condals head: if daeron fucks u die

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader (how they met, and their first night together.)

you were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue. but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky.

warnings : lmfaooo this part always killing me but here it is....rafe being 90% of the warning part and the menace he already is, kidnapping, daddy issues, urge of sexualing your own self, slight of stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, dark!rafe, violence, mentions of threats, r being a missing girl, age gap, size difference, choking. rafe being mean to the reader. slight of daddy kink. sick attitude. dirty talk. attention whore. just minors DNI. (why it's bigger than my grocery list actually...). please carefully pay attention to the tags !!?

author's note : it's my first time writing a dark fic so don't expect too much 🙏🏿 you can read this without watching buffalo 66.

some girls were the trailer park princess, and others the queen of the gas station.

as the girl of the gas station, you were there all day on the road of these men much older than you, who had and drove pretty vintage cars who were literally bigger than you. those rich daddies surely had more money than your poor father who was always sitting behind the desk of his shop waiting for the night.

your father never gave you any attention, not even a look, he didn't care about what you did on your summer days as long as he never saw you. so you stayed all day at your playground queendom across from the pitiful, filthy motel where you lived. because here at least the men were looking at you.

of course they were looking at you, you always gave them something to look at with your tiny dresses that showed your naked thighs, your tits pressed together in that backless top. you always dressed in that soft and milky blue shades. as the sea and the sky, you were blue.

while their wives found you sick, you could feel their stares every time you leaned down to grab the keys that they forgot to give you each time. you could feel their eyes completely charmed by the way your summer dress rode up above your ass, and your panties stuck out.

fully bent over, you could hear the groans of these old men, the way they forced their hands themselves to not touch you when you wanted nothing more than to see them give in to the young temptation that you were.

you had a power in them and you loved to see them completely crazy.

you worked as a gas pump attendant. in reality, you did it behind your father's back because it allowed you to stay in the company of these men who only had eyes for you.

you always put on a show for them, and it always worked because you were irresistible.

but there was this guy every time, a regular customer, cold and short-spoken who never spoke to you.

he had a beautiful and luxurious car and you always wondered what job he did to drive such an incredible vehicle, and to spoil you so much with all this money.

he never said thank you for your service. after all, you were paid for it. his eyes were blue as you. he could park and glare at you for hours, sitting deep in his seat, a cigarette stuck between his opened lips.

he was so much older than you, so much to the point it was indecent. when you had first seen him, you had melted like sugar.

as you were coming back from the ice cream parlor, your lips sucking that delicious vanilla ice cream, you sat on the edge of the gas station, right in front of his car, your legs completely spread, white cream melting and dripping between your thighs. he rubbed his painful boner through his boxer.

you were sick, you let him look at you with this completely perverted stare while you let chunks of ice fall into your cleavage.

his eyes were all over you, but this time it was different, because this time it was him who was thinking about you while touching himself. this time it was him who was sick about you , him who had all these furious ideas about you. he pumped himself so hard, biting his lips harshly. and you continued your depraved show, while he jerked off, his big cock shaked and leaked in his own hand, his thick and already experimented fingers moved around his length faster and faster, the sweaty and dirty sound of his balls slapping, the squeaking noises of his chair, his arched back making the chair shaking. you thought of the veins of his dick engorged of blood pulsated against his hefty strength. that was enough to make you fully wet.

you wanted nothing more than to make this old man reach for you. but the problem was, you were too young and naive to know how mad he was, and what he really wanted to do with a pretty doll like you.

you stood up when you finished your ice cream, putting your dress back on neatly, and leaned down, leaning your porcelain princess arms over his car window.

you shuddered when he spread his cum on your face without any warning, smeared the remains of vanilla ice cream over your sloppy lips gloss with lick of drool.

he pushed his big thumb against your little mouth, pushed it into an o shape, and you closed her to start licking up the drops of his cum.

but like every time he came here, he never spoke to you. you had just seen the car leave, while you still had the taste of him on your lips. it was rude.

the next day, your father sent you out to do some groceries on a sweltering hot summer day, tired of seeing you around doing nothing. what he didn’t know was that this was probably the last time he saw you. and even shoupe that you had seen earlier in the morning, and who had told you to be careful, something with a killer around.

when you were done with the grocery, you started walking through the empty parking lot.

you thought you were alone, even though there were a few empty cars.

but it was a mistake, a terrible mistake that you were going to regret.

“didn't shoupe tell you to be careful this morning, sweetheart ? because i'm pretty sure, he did. ”

you screamed when the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing your little ragdoll body against his chest much stronger. the stranger quickly covered your mouth, and bruised your pretty lips with violence without any caring, shoved down his fingers between them to the point that you almost choked with your own breath and saliva.

“ you hurt..me…! ” you tried to say with a lot of difficulty, as his firm grip crushed against your breasts.

“ not yet actually, doll. but i promise, i will if you continue to fight. so beware, or i will fucking kill you. not a threat, sweetheart. it's a promise. “ and you knew that even god couldn't save you at this time.

you tried to bite him, but your teeth barely touched his skin. his lips hovered above your ear, you could hear his deep older voice warned you.

" bite me one more time, and i will break you. i love wrestle with you little girl, but i think you will really hate the way i fight. because when daddy fight sugardoll, he kills. and tiny things like you are so easy to wreck. and you dont want to die today, right ? you're too young for that. do you got it ? nod if you got it, yes. smart baby, understand easily that she needs to listen and not fucking run away. ”

his strength was heavy. you had stopped resisting a few minutes ago, even when he put you in his car.

he started driving, with a smirk, he looked in the rearview mirror before telling you.

“ what's the matter, sugardoll ? don't want to put a show for me, anymore ? ”

he had taken you to a shitty old motel down the road, where no one would be able to pick you up here. you knew he was intelligent, you knew it because you understood that every time he came to see you, he tried to learn more about you, but not to know you no, but to know when would be the right time to kidnap you. you knew it because he had stalked you carefully.

he had tried to tie you up while you tried to struggle one last time. but he had grabbed your jaw so violently that you felt your face shiver in his hands. “one more move, and i’ll show you how dolls are really treated, how i have no fucking bother to kill a tiny thing like you. ”

“i’m not going to run away.”

"i know.” he shushed you with a sick evil smirk. “ but it's not because you don't want to, sugardoll .but more because you can't.” he said, while releasing your jaw.

“ that's the small but important difference. i kidnapped you. do you even know what it means ? "

you started to cry, tears running down your cheeks.

“ you want a real reason to cry? fine. i can do that for you. i kidnapped you but you want to know the big part of all this? is that no one will come for you. your father doesn't love you , and that's why you work in this stupid gas station. you love the attention of these men so bad that you feel obliged to sexualize yourself to feel desired but me, i wanted you the first time i saw you. i let you do it, i let you play with them, but now it's all over. since i own you, this game is fucking over. ”

“shoupe will come after me ! ”

“but maybe you won’t be around to see it anymore.” he looked at you, and shushed your tears, while staring in your wet eyes. “ yes, i really like when you give me those tears, cry to me, little girl i'm the only men that really got you. ”

you glared at him as if he had fallen from the sky.

“ but now you have to be careful, don’t get on my nerves. i know it's hard for you, but don't do stupid things. ”

he placed your hand on his lower back, where you had felt the metallic coldness of the gun. and you shivered.

"yes, you got it. don't ever get on my nerves.”

“ how can i get on your nerves ? you don't really seems like a bad guy. more like a sweet guy ? ”

“ i'm not. and i'm not trying to be so watch your mouth. “

“ but i really think you are. can i hug you ? ”

“ try it, doll, literally try it. just try to touch me, i dare you. and i bet you will never tell me i'm the sweetest guy again. ”

“ can you at least bathe me ? ” you asked seriously.

“ jesus, do you think i'm your slave or whatever ? do you forget which position you are in ? in the captive one. so do not ask me those stupid things again. and don't try, no, never try to run away because, i can promise you that when i will find you, it will not be a pleasant time for you. and not even a little, but to the point, you will ask me to kill you. and i will be in a mood to accept your request ? yes, me. ”

you nodded as the kind and little girl you are who cannot argue against this tall man. he released your small face, and you were bathing alone. while you were taking your bath, alone in the tub, you heard rafe on the phone without being able to understand what he was saying but after that call, he left the room.

you had decided to buy some food with the little money you had at the food and drink vending machine.

with a happy smile, you went back up, hoping to please him. but you had found him on the chair in front of the TV.

“look, what…”

“i think you’re really nice. but not at your own good, sugar. ”

“ i just wan…”

“ get on the bed, now. ”

he couldn't help but relaxing when he saw how your blue dress was so tiny, already showing your soaked underwear.

" no whining. " he said as he shoved himself deeply in your tight abused cunt, your ragdoll body pressed down in the mattress, his thick stronger arms hugged your small waist, while thrusting harder and harder, your walls clenched around his fat cock. you can felt the size growing bigger in your wettering pussy, as he turned you into a real crybaby, tears flowing down your cheeks. you were caged by his beefy and muscular body on the bed, gasped on the edge. “ you wanted to act like a big girl ? then take it like a big girl. no fucking whining, i'm just giving you what you want. ”

he was literally buried inside you, snapping your hips, moving in and out. the atmosphere was hot, you felt the heat, there were trails of saliva around your mouth. “stop whining babydoll, daddy is not at his worse actually. and you don't want to see this happen.” you wanted to hate him but it was like you appreciated him being so mean to you, your pussy was dripping, your fluids drenching him, your sticky walls surrounded his girth. " yes, that's it. pull up some juices for daddy, make it easier for him to destroy you. "

everytime you runned away from him, he lifted your head with a grunt, and with a wild thrust inside of you, making you drip even more as his glistening tip reached your spot, the dirty and wetness sound of his moves echoed in the room, your body trapped against his taller one.

with a hand on your throat, you were arched to the point where he could see your wetted eyes rolled up. "try to run away again, and you will have the fucking pleasure to be a momma, as well as a missing girl. i'm not asking you to take my cock better.” he said with a threat. “ no, i'm telling you to do it as your fucking job. ”

all teary, you could bet that rafe didn't know how big he was for telling you this. you were trying your best actually. he was rutting in you, holding your tiny size with one big hand, getting so feral everytime he saw your small body twitching when he pushed himself further. your moans were loud, as your squirted more than one time on him, your dripping walls clamped his hard cock. even when your third orgasm flowed against your bulging pussy, creating a mess at the surface, he continued.

" you know sugardoll, you better work faster for my cum, because i will only stop when i will see how creampie your pussy is for my dick.”

he stuffed your puffy messy cunt, while your pumped his fingers who slidded deep down in your throat, your warm and bullied tongue fighting to not dropped them.

you slobbed more with the overstimulation. you felt like this man was insatiable. rafe loved to see you, his sugardoll in pain, taking so much for him.

when he finally stopped teasing you, and fighting himself to not cum, and clearly toying you, he exploded, making you cried out. all your body was filled with spasms.

you expected something from rafe when he pulled out, a little soft spot, or at least, just one look but he just went to the bathroom. alone.

you expected him to be sweet for you, like the sugar you were for him. and you knew, that you will work for this later.

when he came back, you looked at him, always attracted by his charisma, the way he made you felt so tiny by his big size, the way he was old enough to make you feel like a little girl, just the way his raised voice made you feel so small.

“ can i sleep with you ? ”

“ whatever. just don't touch me. ”

“ you're not gonna be my big spoon ? “

“ what the fuck is this ? i'm not gonna be your spoon. jesus, can you just sleep and not ask for any stupid things that you think i will do because you're already so obsessed with me ? and give me your hands. ”

he tied them up on the bed with your little blue ribbon.

“ just in case you think you can escape me. ”

“ i can't sleep like that ! ”

“ i fear it's not my fucking problem, sugardoll.”

“ fine. i will talk and talk all night. ”

“ i can fuck you all the night too. but one of us will not survive this. so stop being so damn annoying. ”

“ what if i want to pee in the middle of the night ? ”

“ you're strong enough to hold it. and you fucking better be strong enough to hold it. ”

“ why are you so mean to me ? why you kidnapped me ? ”

“ sugardoll, listen to me. look at me, yes. eyes on daddy right now. i swear, and you need to listen carefully because i will tell you once, just once, so your dumby brain need to pay attention, if you're talking another time, even if i see your lips moving, just a twitch, i will put my dick right in your mouth, making you suck it for without a break until the sun rises again. and i can promise you that after, you will never talk to me because you will never be able to open that mouth again. do you got it ? nod your head if you got it, doll.”

and you nodded.

as a doll, you were conditionned to listen to your owner, even if he was so mean to you. but you were as soft as sugar, always melted around, already thinking he was the best guy around.

“ sweet dreams, sugardoll. ”

i promise one day i will write something very good, just give me a chance. i think the only sweet thing in this work, it's rafe calling r " sugardoll ", he's so mean please 😭😭 i think i make him a little too dark to the point, i'm questionning about how he can be sweet to the reader now ????? but i guess, it's part of the game. tysm @bunnyrafe and @fae-of-prey me a lot !

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Divus Crewel - Rich Fur Coat Vignette

"A full course of disciplinary action"

[Sage‘s Island – Foothill Town]

Sage’s Island Resident: Good morning, Divus-san. You're up pretty early again.

Crewel: Good morning, madam.

Crewel: Also… Good morning, Emma!

Crewel: Your cute spots look so good on you, as always. I am truly lucky to be able to meet with such a stunning beauty so early in the day.

Crewel: …Can I give you some pets, you sweet thing?

Emma: Bark, bark!

Sage’s Island Resident: Fufufu, you're always so doting on our Emma, thank you. Look, she's so happy she's showing her belly.

Crewel: No, I should be thanking you. These fleeting moments I get in the morning are my personal solace.

Crewel: I'm grateful that I am able to see and pet these beautiful little lads and lasses.

Crewel: Especially since I'm unable to see my precious ones until I return to the Queendom of Roses on the weekends.

Sage’s Island Resident: If I recall, you have two friends looking after your dogs back home during the week, right?

Crewel: That's right. They're old friends… Or rather, they've become more like hired hands.

Crewel: I would love nothing more than to bring my dogs to Sage's Island…

Crewel: But my apartment here in Foothill Town is much too small to keep them.

Crewel: Sometime in the future, it would be nice to rent a large home here in this town and live with them together every single day.

Crewel: I'd drive with them in my favorite car on the long road along the ocean… That's the dream.

Sage’s Island Resident: Well, how lovely. I'm looking forward to the day that I'll be able to meet your precious dogs, Divus-san.

Crewel: And I as well, madam. I hope you have another pleasant day today. Bye, Emma.

Crewel: Good morning, my good sir. A strong cup of tea, as per my usual.

Shopkeep: Good morning, Crewel-kun. Would you like some food with that?

Crewel: No, thank you. I don't eat breakfast, as a rule.

Shopkeep: Yes, yes, I know. I thought I'd just ask.

Shopkeep: I can't believe you come to my little establishment so early in the morning just to drink tea instead of our signature coffee blend…

Shopkeep: You're still an odd one, even after becoming a professor at Night Raven College.

Crewel: Hah. Truth be told, I don't come here for the tea.

Crewel: Every Monday morning, if I sit in this seat here, I can watch the ships sail into port. The sight of the sails in a row is beautiful…

Crewel: This tea doesn't even compare to the stuff I can brew, but this view is something I can't replicate back home.

Shopkeep: Hahah! I always knew you were a sharp-tongued devil in your student years, but it seems you've just gotten even more cruel!

Crewel: I think it's more of a shock that you haven't improved your tea brewing skills in 15 years, sir.

Shopkeep: Well, luckily, we're still thriving! Do enjoy your time here.

Crewel: Thanks. …Hm. This respite is quiet and soothing.

Crewel: I should relax while I can. …Because I'm sure today will end up being yet another busy day.

Crewel: Today, I have homeroom plus three other classes. There's also preparations that need to be done for next month's event, a staff meeting, and last week's tests that need grading… Whew.

Crewel: Well. I'll just have to hope those pups won't cause me any issues, at a minimum.

[Laboratory]

Crewel: STAY!!!

Students: EEK!

Crewel: I can't believe this… What have you done?

Crewel: Why are all the ingredients needed for today's experiment scattered all over the floor?

Crewel: Which one of you mangy mutts not only stepped on but also mixed together all those spilled ingredients?

Crewel: I am only asking a simple question, and yet all anyone can yelp is "It wasn't me," or "It was someone else's fault"...

Crewel: PUPS WHO CAN'T OWN UP TO THEIR MISTAKES ARE NO BETTER THAN A MUTT! THEY DON'T EVEN DESERVE TO BE CALLED DOGS!

Students: EEEEP!

Crewel: So tell me, who is the culprit? Tell me truthfully, and you'll only have to deal with a full course of disciplinary action and not a bit more.

Students: Th-That is…

Students: [everyone stares]

Grim: Hm?

Grim: …Wh-Wh-Wh-What? Don't all you be lookin' down on me!

1. I think it'd be better if you just apologize honestly… 2. You'll get a lighter punishment if you just confess now.

Grim: It wasn't me who did that! It's [Yuu], definitely [Yuu]!

Scarabia Student: Don't try to blame [Yuu]. You really don't know how to give up, huh, Grim!

Octavinelle Student: Yeah, you were the one who flipped the table in the first place! There's no way I'm gonna let you take us down with you!

Grim: Heh! Do ya even got any proof that I did it?

Crewel: I see. It definitely won't do to accuse someone of the crime without proper evidence.

Crewel: …By the way, Grim.

Grim: Hm?

Crewel: The fur on your legs have turned black, but why is that? It looks just like that of a black cat.

Grim: Huh? My legs?

Grim: …Woah, you're right! My amazing grey fur's pitch black!

Grim: WH-WHAT'S WITH THIS!? GET RID OF IT FOR MEEE!

Crewel: There's no point in wiping it. The sap from the tree we were to use today turns black upon exposure to air.

Crewel: If it were to touch on your clothes or hair, it wouldn't matter how much you scrub or wash with water, it won't come off.

Crewel: incidentally, to return the blackened part to normal, the fastest method would be to cause another reaction to render it colorless.

Crewel: Look! Everyone see here.

Crewel: When I pour this concoction of herbs onto Grim's blackened legs…

Crewel: See, it returned back to its normal color. Make sure you remember this reaction.

Students: Oooooh.

Crewel: …Now, Grim. Do you have any idea why the ingredients we were to use for today's experiments got on your legs?

Grim: M-M… MYAAAH!

Grim: It ain't my fault! The desk shouldn't've been there!

Crewel: YOU MONGREL! YOU ARE TO STAY AFTER CLASS AND COPY LINES AS PUNISHMENT. UNDERSTAND!?

Crewel: And [Yuu], you're to also stay behind, as Grim's prefect. It would be troublesome if you cannot even look after your own pet!

1. But I have plans after class…

Crewel: Oho, you have plans that take priority over my prescribed discipline? [Yuu shakes their head] …No? A good response from a good boy.

2. I'm sorry…

Crewel: If you truly are sorry, then lets see that as a tangible result. If you can make Grim learn to sit and stay properly as his prefect, then I'll give you a treat.

Crewel: These pups truly are a handful… My beloved pet dogs are much more well behaved.

Crewel: Everyone, sit!

[Crewel magics the ingredients]

Grim: All the stuff I dropped are just floating back on top of the desk. So why's he gotta get on me when he can just fix everything…?

Crewel: The ingredients have been properly prepared once again. I will now explain the procedure for this experiment, so make sure you watch carefully.

Crewel: …I expect all of you to be on your best behavior.

Grim: Urp. He's just glaring at me, now…

[Interior Hallway]

Crewel: Ah, classes are finally over. Today was another tiring day.

Crewel: None of the freshmen listen and the sophomores slack off now that they've gotten used to the classes. And the juniors are teeming with arrogance.

Crewel: If I were a student, I would absolutely have literally knocked some sense into them...

Crewel: However, because of my position, I cannot do that now. I never even thought that I would be more inconvenienced as a professor, than I was as a student.

Crewel: Tch! I knew what I was in for, but still, I hadn't expected being an instructor to be this difficult.

???: And why are you clicking your tongue like that, Crewel-sensei?

Trein: As a professor of this school, I would prefer if you were to carry yourself better, so as to be a good example towards the students.

Crewel: Ugh… And now on top of everything else, someone even fussier has shown up…

Trein: What is with that disgruntled look? Do you take some issue with me?

Crewel: Of course not, don't be absurd! I would never bite back at any commentary you have for me, Trein-sensei.

Trein: Good. We should start to head towards the staff meeting, then.

Trein: Incidentally, you seemed to look rather exhausted a moment ago. Did something happen?

Crewel: No, I wouldn't say there was anything in particular…

Crewel: …I was only thinking of how I could effectively train the students. There are more than a fair share of unruly pups.

Trein: Do you of all people have any right to say that…? Especially since you were one of the rowdiest students during your time here.

Crewel: That was simply youthful ardor. Wasn't I just a charming little thing?

Trein: Don't write it off as simple "youthful ardor." Have a little shame.

Trein: …Well, I suppose it hasn't been too long since you've become a professor, in the end. This year makes… how long?

Crewel: Six years. Have you forgotten our joyous reunion already?

Trein: Hmph. Of course I remember your scowling little, "Oh, professor, were you still here?"

Trein: But only six years, I see… Well, why don't you pat yourself on the back for doing as well as you are for such a short tenure?

Crewel: I'm doing well? …Do you truly think so?

Trein: It is a fact that the rate of students pursuing the sciences have increased since you've arrived. There would be no purpose in denying that your instruction is showing good results.

Crewel: Heh… Heheh, is that right?! Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that coming from you.

Trein: And there you go getting carried away and speaking without any forethought. I do believe I've taught you countless times since your time here as a student to respect your elders, haven't I?

Trein: …Now then, if you're feeling better about yourself, we should get this staff meeting underway. I am keeping Lucius waiting.

[Trein walks off]

Crewel: …How insensitive of you, Trein-sensei.

Crewel: Here I am, patiently enduring everything until I can finally go see my dogs over the weekend, and you say that.

[Alchemy Workshop]

Crewel: Now that the meeting is done with, I should try to finish grading the tests while I can.

Crewel: …The rate of students pursuing the sciences, hm. I suppose it's true that everyone's grades are improving, even if at a slow pace. …A truly slow pace.

Crewel: Heh. I do enjoy seeing these pups grow.

[knock, knock, click]

Grim: Hey! I went 'n did that assignment for ya!

Crewel: What is it that you've done for me...?

1. I'll have him try that again. 2. He just misspoke!

Grim: I-I mean, I finished the assignment ya gave me. I'll put it here on the desk, 'kay?

Grim: …Hm? There's a book with a fancy cover mixed in with all these boring lookin' books. What's this?

Crewel: Oh, did that catch your eye? That book contains the collection of an apparel brand I worked for in the past.

Crewel: I keep telling them to not send anything to my office, but are some who just refuse to listen…

Crewel: Not only do I receive their catalogs, but also phone calls, all asking for my advice for the next fashion season.

Crewel: …It's just like your tests, don't you think? I'll have to fix their mistakes later to the best of my abilities.

Grim: Urgh, that sounds annoying. Why don'tcha just ignore 'em?

Crewel: Ignore them… Hahah, that's one idea. I can imagine their panicked and frantic faces.

Crewel: …But no, I do consider this somewhat of a hobby for me.

Crewel: Just because I've become a professor, that does not mean I can fall behind the current fashion. I want to constantly be checking the latest trends.

Crewel: I'm sure even you'd prefer a fashionably cool instructor over some decrepit, antiquated teacher, right?

1. I want a cool teacher.

Crewel: Right? You're quite a lucky one on that account, pup, because you have me as your homeroom teacher!

2. I want a nice teacher.

Crewel: You'll get bored if they're just nice all the time, you know. You might understand what I mean when you get a bit older.

Grim: I don't really get all that hard fashion stuff, but I totally wanna look cooler!

Crewel: Well, I'll consider that good enough for now. Don't you worry, I'll make sure to turn you into polished gems before graduation.

Crewel: You students here at Night Raven College may have a knack for magic, but your fashion senses are severely lacking.

Crewel: …And since I've taken on the duties of being your teacher, I won't allow that to continue.

Crewel: When I first started here, I vowed that I would craft every single one of you into the most fashionable and capable mages you can be.

Crewel: You have a first-class instructor, and first-rate instruction. …It would be impossible for you all to not become fantastic mages.

Grim: Heh. I'm totally gonna become a great mage even without your help!

Crewel: Hahah, you're a cheeky one. …Now then, if you've finished your task, go on. Looks like your friends have arrived to walk you out.

Crewel: Your time as a student may seem long, but it is deceptively short. I will do what I can to support all of you so that you can live your life here without any regrets.

Requested by @revengeofreaper32.

[cvlutos]

"DELIVER" Pt.One

✦ | 03.27.23 |

✦ | TWST!VARIOUS X GN!READER | TWST: MAFIA AU

✦ | Violence | Sexual Themes | Smoking | Murder | Gore(?) | Blood | Tread carefully, my love.

✦ | Synopsis: | You deliver letters all across the eight districts and Ramshackles. A quite fulfilling job, until one day you and your neighbor have a horrible mix up. He's involved in something he shouldn't be and you just happened to be the last person he talked too.

[OVERVIEW]

Mafias are no joke.

They're dangerous. Violent. Some more than others. Yet it has been covered in gold, glamorized til the point of no return. Yet it isn't senseless murder, but only a few words can deem any murder from senseless to meaningful. It's best to not interact with them at all, it's best to simply know they exist and avoid them. Unless you desire end with them, or below.

Splattered drops of rain beat down on his form, shoes slippery as he turned down alleyways, shoulders and body slamming into the stone walk, nearly falling over himself to run away. His sight blinded by his wet hair, and clothes stained in dirty and blood.

He's been deemed a thief.

He can hear the loud shouts of orders from behind, the barking of dogs, and heavy footsteps that didn't stop and falter in the rain, an unmoving force that was moving faster than the boy. He continues twisted and turning, praying to any god, that he survives, he has to survive, the people have to know. They must. He stumbles out into the empty street, hands frantically wiping at his face, gasping and spitting out water, a moment to slow.

The sound of a gun rings out, ripping through the flesh of the boy, his body within moments topping over from the sheer-velocity and force, feeling the bullet rip through skin and rest painfully within his back. He blinks the tears from his eyes, as his body lands face first into the cobble stone ground.

Lifeless.

Those chasing him slow, staring the dead body be continuously beat down by the rain, and the rolling crackle of thunder, there's a hushed spread of commands, 'Grab the body. We'll show the Boss.' Voice is blank, as if almost grieving at the unnecessary loss of human life, before turning to his partner- his "friend", who easily tucked the gun away. A shark-like smile spread across his lips.

"He was wanted dead—Now he's dead." He merely shrugs, while the man with a spade symbol upon his face scowls.

"He was wanted alive. You went against the rules." The merman merely shrugs once again, making a 'blah' sound at the mention of the Queendom's rules.

A senseless murder to one, meaningful murder to another.

══════ ♡ ════════════ ♡ ══════

Death Certificate letters are the worse letters to ever have to deliver.

The road bumpy beneath your bike wheels, your leather satchel within your metal basket. You offer smiles to those you pass, those who worked in the gardens, picking and planting fresh vegetables and fruits, a group of older women and young girls, that always offer a wave and without outfail a dinner invitation, always adding 'the more the merrier' and there right, it's fun to not eat alone.

You ride your bike over twisted and bends, passing a small library where the owner watered his windowsill flowers, waving at you, and you wave back with a small smile. He's an old man, wrinkly and gray, with a single wooden leg, some say he got it during a fight with the Octavinelle Mafia, though most the others think he's lying, but a good lie never hurt no one.

The Ramschackles are diverse and lively midday, pressing on the breaks as a young man and his children blocked the road, letting his cattle walk through, leading the towards the pasture on the other side. He greets you, asking about your day, as his son climbs the old fencing shouting for the cows to go faster, and his daughter begs to ride the cows, pulling on the pants of his father. You remember the birth of the twins, nearly 6 years ago. You can't help but smile, giving each kid a piece of candy which you got from visiting Heartslabyul, which the father silently mouths a 'thank you', his wife had died in the last fall.

Once the last cow passed, your sped off, familiar with every bump and lump, though all the large rocks having been removed by a group of men, promising to make the road safer for you, and they did. Even covering up the major holes with dirt to make it even. Even amongst the mass of houses and homes, you can see the house that the certified was for, Ms. Louis, a widower, and now, a mother without her son.

Turning a sharp curve and halting in front of her home, kicking down your kickstand and climbing off your bike, yanking you satchel from the basket and fixing down your hair and clothes as you walked up the narrow stops, skipping the creaky board, as your rummaged through your bag. Before you can even knock, the door swings open, just as you grab the envelope.

"[Name], you're here." She speaks with a soft inhale, as if she ran from her kitchen to answer, she has deep eye bags, and her black hair is messy and undone. She attempts to smile, but you can tell by the shakiness of her hands, she's panicking—scared.

You pass her the envelope, yet you can't speak, far too afraid that your voice would crack, and you'd witness this woman all five stages of grief before she could open the yellow envelope. She doesn't wait til your leave, ripping off the edge immediately, you can see her green eyes begin to water, she already knows what awaits her. She tosses the packaging aside, hands running over the thick cardboard paper, fingers tracing the words of her son. She breaks down in sobs, and you hold her, feeling her frail form lean against you, arms wrapped around your shoulder, as she cries and speaks in broken sobs.

"H-he's dead! They-They kill-killed him!" She hiccups, voice cracking, you can feel her already broken heart shattering. Her crying gains the attention of others, some already sure of the fate that her son befell the moment he left the safety of the Ramschackles. Others asking to look at the certificate, as your pull away, watching them read over the piece of paper.

"Bullshit! That boy was no thief!" A neighbor, he shots angrily, holding the paper firm in his hand, as he points to Ms. Louis. "He ain't no thief!" His wife pats his arm, wiping the tears from her eyes, shaking her head at her husband's outburst. "He ain't mean it, Liz. He just hurtin""

"I know. I know." Liz let's put an exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she wipes her tears, walking down the steps and taking the paper back. "I know my Tommy was doing good," she lets out a shaky sigh, before turning back to you, "he always does good. Forgive me, it's been long since I've cried so hard. I know my boy wouldn't want be sobbin' over him like that."

"It's good to cry." You respond with a smile.

"They'r right. Tears ain't hurt nobody.” The husband speaks with a firm headnod, wagging his finger as Liz merely laughs making her way the steps to her house.

"Im in the process of finishin' that onion soup, with the chicken, if you wanna stay for lunch." The husband and wife immediately agree, the wife promising to get the newest loaf of bread to eat with it, as the husband made his way towards the house. Liz glances at you, hopefully. You feel bad, but pat your satchel.

"I got a few more letters, but save me a bite." You hop down the steps as she laughs, climbing back onto your bike and ringing the bell a few times, with a chuckle, before racing off.

The Ramschackles have always and will always be resilient.

"You had not the jurisdiction!"

Within a room of Crowley Hall, surrounding a table stands seven people. The Red-Rose Tyrant, The King of Beasts, The Deep-Sea Merchant, The Silly Sultan, The Fairest, King of the Underworld, and lastly The General. Tension is thick, palpable, you can almost taste it on yourself tongue.

Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest, was the first to speak, a clear scowl upon perfectly glossed lips, hair pulled back into a bun, clearly tired and annoyed. "Azul, we were supposed to agree,"

"And we did. Forgive me if Heartslabyul was too slow. Floyd is of course an uncontrollable force, and we wanted him dead, no?"

Azul Ashengrotto, The Merchant Of The Deep, has a faux pout, his voice drenched in fake concern, a heavy trench jacket hanging over his shoulders, eyes behind silver glasses beyond amused.

Riddle Rosehearts, The Red-rose Tyrant, stucks in a breath through his teeth, clearly angry, with the furrowing of his red brows. "You had no right. Under law, Floyd's head he be placed along my wall. Our suspect was not supposed to be killed."

"He was a thief. Isn't theft against your laws?" Leona Kingscholar, The King Of Beasts, stands directly infront of Riddle, still across the wide table, a deeply bored expression upon his face, yet his eyes seemed to glow in amusement.

"Exactly. I don't see why I'm such a target for such hate." Azul lets out a pitiful sigh, causing Riddle to slam his hands against the table, nearly knocking over various glasses, he glowers at the mafia boss of Octavinelle.

"If he fought back! You mercilessly killed him upon Heartslabyul soil! Do not deny it!"

"He had information, why give him a chance to live," Azul pushes up his glasses, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "unless you were working with him?"

Leona shakes his head, eyes fluttered close. "For shame."

"That wouldn't be a good look upon Heartslabyul either." Azul continues, before a clearing of a throat cuts him off.

Lilia Vanrouge, The General, the stand in for Diasomnia's Boss. "He had information. Information he shouldn't have. Information that resulted in his death. A shame it is..."

"It was senseless." Riddle crosses his arms, a scowl deep on his face still.

"But the information made it meaningful." Azul continues to keep his artificial smile, eyes on Lilia. The fae merely clears his throat, crossing his arms, a smile child-like grin on his face.

"We cannot go back in time to do differently. Our next step of action is to find if he could've possibly told another person. Any ideas Idia?"

Idia Shroud, The King Of The Underworld, his eyes dart across him screen before nodding. Using his fingers to spread out a image of the Ramschackles, showing the image of a tiny hovel with a rickety iron fence and old stone pathway.

"Hey, [Name]! This is absolute gold! I gotta tell ya!"

A young boy with blonde hair, and freckles walks beside you as your push your bike. He's holding a letter that you delivered to him simply moments ago. He waves it excitedly. He was a mafia fanatic, loved anything and everything about the place. To the point it had you concerned sometimes. The letter you had given him was from the Thomas Louis, or Tommy.

"Let me tell ya! If I get this to the news! Ooh Wee! Imagine! All that money." He punches the hair, and you shake your head.

"Don't go messin' with the Mafias."

"They aint gon' hurt no nobody like me." Henry has always been excitable, there's not a moment you haven't seen him without a smile that rivals the sun. "Well, I ain't gon' be a nobody for long." He voice quiets, but the smile is still there. Silence.

He opens his mouth to speak again, until a familiar chime of a bell and a holler of 'Henry' sounds loud and clear. "COMIN' MA!" He glances back at you with a grin. "Tomorrow. Imma tell you all about my big plan."

"I'm excited to hear about it." You watch him let out a happy laugh, before running off with a final wave. You spot your home in the distance, picking up your pace, as your place your bike against the metal fence.

Now, you love your home within the Ramshackle, your Lil hovel, and your small garden with your cat. You love it, truly you do. You love your neighbors, and you love the festivals that the Ramshackle holds. You love it all.

Your leather satchel hangs off your hip, filled to the brim with different letters and papers from your most recent trip. You just returned from Scarabia, having a good easy delivery for the old man that lives up the street, and after a long day, you're finally home.

You push past the old rickety iron gate, and up the stone pathway, eyes searching along for your familiar feline friend. He usually waits for you. Hopping the old creaky steps, until you stop right in front of a card. Perfectly placed with gold decor. 'For Ramschackle's Perfect. You're invited to Crowley Hall' written directly on the front. Ramshackle's Perfect was only a joke type name among the people that lived in, said Ramshackle.

Who else would call you that?

You pick up the letter, glancing around the porch, before slipping inside your home, and closing the door behind you. Crowley Hall, also known as the Grand Dinner Hall, a place where all important events took place, especially the meeting of all seven mafia leaders. Why would someone invite you with no other information?

You flip the card, there's nothing else. Your shoulders slump, you shouldn't go. Yet, you stare at the words once again. It could be important or lead to trouble for the other people of Ramshackle. Your eyes drift over to your clock. It was only 7 pm.

You had five hours.

You glance back at the thick fancy card. Five hours before 12. You feel a familiar purr, and glance down at your cat, Grim rubbing against your legs. Five hours, and well, as long as you're back before midnight. You'll be fine.

Right?

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Crewel-sensei, I've been feeling homesick lately. What do you recommend I do to...well...stop feeling this way?

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

Ah, homesickness.

Crewel knew it well, felt it every Monday morning when he had to pry himself away from his beloved dogs for the work week. Tossed and turned at night in his apartment, wishing for Dalmatian snuggles and roses wafting in from the garden.

His heart would always belong to the Queendom.

But this, he was aware, was different from his situation.

A step through the mirror, and he would instantly be transported to his house, his home. His dogs would bound down the stairs, sloppily lapping his face as a welcome back present. His lackeys—his dogsitters—would awkwardly stand at the front porch, saluting him. They’d shoot the shit, share their life updates.

A happy reunion every weekend.

Not so for you. It would never be that easy.

What must it feel like to be deprived of that for months and months? Crewel could hardly hold out for a week.

His brow puckered, concern shadowing his expression. He clicked his tongue—tut, tut, tut.

“A pup ripped so unceremoniously from the safety and comfort of its home is bound to experience separation anxiety. Ushered into an unfamiliar world, forced to adapt to it… It’s no wonder you feel the way you do.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. Too slight to be a smile, too kind to be a smirk.

“You’ve already taken the first step: confiding in a trusted party. I’m honored, truly. No good comes out of bottling up that restless, youthful energy. Best to let it all out. Allow yourself this much.”

There was a mirth to his words, something that glittered in the dark and pulled you toward it.

Your chest tightened, and the emotions spilled over. Something wet and hot sprang from your eyes. The longing ache in you intensified into a stranglehold, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

Crewel put a hand on your back, in the area between your shoulder blades. Firm, supportive.

“It is no simple task, but I have confidence that you’ll gain the strength return to your own two feet in due time,” he said quietly, more gentle than you had ever heard him speak in class. “Keep a routine, busy yourself with activities. Structure and stimulation can help.”

You choked out a sob, but tried to nod. You weren’t sure if you had succeeded or not.

Seeing that, Crewel drew out a sigh.

What kind of owner would I be to abandon a downtrodden pup on the side of the road?

He shifted to guide you flush to him. His fur coat was warm, and the comforting aroma of his cologne filled your nostrils.

Alarmed, you stared up at him through wet eyes.

“… You’re not to leave my sight until your tears have dried,” Crewel instructed sternly, “and know that if those feelings should ever return, I will be here for you.

“Wallowing alone is absolutely not allowed under my watch. Is that clear, pup?”

[yuurei20]

Hi YuuRei! How are you?

In terms of the students in the main cast, the only ones I know that have a driver’s license canonically would be mostly Leona, but also Lilia, sort of. (It is expired if I recall correctly). I couldn’t help but notice that it is likely that people in Twisted Wonderland don’t really need a permit or license to operate a Magical Wheel? It certainly is interesting since it is kind of like a motorcycle. Thank you!

Hello hello! Thank you very much for this question, I never expected it to be such a rabbit hole! ^^

⚠️Tamashna Muina Spoilers below!⚠️ (and technically above 💦)

It does seems possible that Lilia's license has expired, but also possible that he never had one in the first place? He does not seem to be able to remember!

The revelation of Leona's driver's license was a fascinating one because, as you say, Deuce has been riding Magical Wheels since middle school, somewhere between the ages of 13 and 15 years old!

Epel says he had a neighbor who would take him out for rides back home, but in his dorm vignette he says he has "always wanted to ride" one, implying that the opportunity from Vil to drive one for the Film Club was possibly his first time ever driving on his own--with nothing about licenses ever mentioned!

We get a vague explanation about how magical wheels work in Book 5 from a bully who says that, while you can drive a magical wheel without magic, he just happens to have enough magic to work one.

They have technomantic batteries to power them but those seem to be meant as back-ups: they are designed to be powered at least partially by magic.

And this is very reminiscent of certain road traffic laws that exist in Japan! :>

As explained here, "vehicles" like electric bicycles must, by law, have an "assistance" function in Japan (such as pedal power) to keep them from being 100% motorized.

If your electric bicycle does not require pedaling then it is no longer considered a bicycle--it is an automobile--and you will need a license in order to ride it.

And this does not only apply to bicycles, but other electric modes of transportation such as electric scooters and skateboards!

(I know someone with an electric skateboard imported from overseas who keeps the remote control stealthily in a pocket so as not to be caught 👀 It is more than an "electric assistant", it is 100% electric, which classifies the skateboard as an automobile under the law!)

Things are changing recently, with an alteration to the law in 2023 (seen above, full article here) to allow people to ride electric kick scooters for businesses such as rental services.

Until July 2023, though, even electric scooters required a driver's license, as they are 100% motorized--and maybe the same thing is being applied to magical wheels?

Is it possible that magical wheels are legal to drive without licenses because they are not 100% electric and require magical assistance, just like assisted bicycles that require pedaling? 🧐

Except!

When Riddle balks at being asked to drive a chariot in Book 6 a STYX staff member explains that they maneuver just like blastcycles. Riddle responds with, "I should've taken taken driving lessons and gotten a technomantic vehicle license," so maybe blastcycle licenses actually are a thing? 🧐

Except "technomantic vehicle" might be implying vehicles like the chariot that are 100% technomantic power and not Magical Wheels, which integrate magic! Do they not technically count, much like partially-pedal-powered electric bicycles?

Riddle comments, "Then again, this IS private property. Maybe I don't have to worry about (a driver's license)."

Do maybe the laws vary by country? Was hooligan-Deuce illegally driving those blastcycles in middle school, or are laws more lax in the Queendom of Roses (Riddle's reaction would lead one to believe otherwise ww), or does the Queendom not consider them automobiles at all?

Is Epel able to drive that blastcycle on campus (and with Vil's encouragement) because NRC is private property? Was Deuce breaking the law when he took Epel off campus, or are blastcycles treated like electric bicycles on Sage's Island?

While magical wheel-specific licenses do technically exist, they were a product of an April Fool's campaign and are probably not supposed to be considered canon to the game ^^

Twst once had a delightful theme of introducing magical-wheel-inspired content for April Fool's!

While the theme seems to have been discontinued from 2024, the 2022 video that was created for JP-server players has been translated here!

And here is an explanation of the content from 2023!

The 2023 campaign included not only the physical magical wheel driver's license for prefects (with a purchase of a magical wheel tape dispenser), but also a magical wheel for the guest room, while the 2022 campaign included a title that you can use in the game: Magical Wheel License! ^^

The EN-server has never acknowledged April Fool's and it is unclear if items such as the title or the guest room furniture (a magical wheel in 2023 and a TV in 2024 that plays the Absolutely Beautiful performance first screened at Twst Fes) will ever reach on EN, but maybe one day!

[tobylix-blog]

LotR Week (3/7): The green earth in the daylight - Legolas x Reader x Gimli

Content & Warnings: polyamory, fluff Word count: 0.5k Summary: Fangorn forest seemed all the same from the outside, but once you crossed the edge it seemed like you fell into a different realm without even noticing. A/N: running late for @lotrweek, but how could i deny the pleasure of writing gigolas x reader

“Certainly, we wandered into the wrong forest,” Gimli mumbled, stepping over an anthill. A few busy inhabitants of the bustling tiny queendom took the opportunity to climb his heavy boots and travel further away than any insect before them dared to. “What brings on the clouds of doubt, meleth nín?” Legolas wondered, walking around a tree with a dreamy expression. “Do you not recognize the old Fangorn?” “I was convinced that we followed the right road and entered the same woods,” the dwarf squinted, watching a couple of birds dancing in the branches above, “however the further we go the less assured my eyes leave me.”

“I must admit I agree. This place looks nothing like the forest where we met Gandalf,” you announced, glancing down to the ground warily, but unlike the last time grass didn’t catch onto your ankles, only softly grazing the leather of your boots.

It wasn’t just the grass, in fact quite a lot had changed. From the lively sounds tinkling in the air to the gentle touch of summer breeze. From the roots calmly buried in the soft ground instead of standing up and threatening to trip an idle traveller to the soft rustle of leaves singing a hymn of the peaceful afternoon. And not only the material aspects, it was as if the very grim mood of this forest was gone. “Do your hearts agree to call all of us lost wanderers? I would never accuse either of you of lack of belief, yet you leave me little other choice,” Legolas smiled amusedly.

His hands landed weightlessly on both Gimli’s back and yours, and pushed forward with surprising force. He guided you further through a gap in some thick currant bushes adorned with red berries and into a clearing flooded with sunshine.

“Here,” Legolas breathed out. “Watch it closely. Listen to the woods’ whispers. Feel the warmth and life. Smell the blossoms and the ripe fruits. What was once lethargic and gloom is now reborn to its former glory,” the elf took a few dancing steps forward and settled down gracefully in the tall grass. “The earth is green in the daylight again. Calad i nî dadwen*.” [The light that was comes back]

He intoned the last part like some line from an old romantic ballade, which almost made you chuckle. The sight of him joyful and lighthearted, sitting in the grass, forgetting about everything but the forest, brought easiness and a hint of mischief to your heart.

You moved closer to Gimli and hugged him from behind. Pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “I know the sun has already kissed you, love, but you wouldn’t decline me, right? Especially not when our little star is so busy being in love with nature.”

The dwarf chuckled contentedly and covered your hands with his own, tilting his head to the side to let you kiss his temple and beard covered cheek. Legolas paid the action no mind, leaning back on his elbows and letting the wind catch in his hair.

“It must be truly a significant change that occurred in this place, if he is still so serene instead of being green with envy,” you whispered with a smirk.

“An elf growing blind in broad daylight, what a miracle,” Gimli agreed and you couldn’t hold in the gay laugh.

______________________________________________________________

* - Very poor Sindarin translation made with dictionaries and even poorer linguistic knowledge

[blake-me-up-inside]

Just watched Ice Queendom Episode 2.

I'm kinda liking the pacing a bit more here than the original. We're losing out on some character establishment, I guess, but I think we're getting what we need for now. Taking care of everything before Emerald Forest on the airship makes sense.

But did we really need this lingering shot of Glenda’s chest? They didn’t even pan up to their faces. (Excuse the shitty quality. I couldn’t screencap it.)

The theme song is a thing. I’m not in love with it but it might grow on me.

Lol at the blatantly nameless extras 1 thru 5 on the launch pad.

I’m not digging Shion’s vibe. Cool hat, I guess? I know they’re probably important down the road, judging by the OP.

The hammer kill on the Deathstalker was pretty cool, but I’m pretty sure the entire animation budget for the episode went to the Nevermore kill because holy fuck they made that look good! lol

[bug-duo-gyne-and-jewelia]

[Sweet smells of sugary drinks of food fill the air, along with the delightful clamor of Exclamanians of all shapes and sizes participating in carnival games, looking at various market stalls selling Game Bug made goods and shiny things, and generally having a great time.]

[Colorful lights with all kinds of brightness settings illuminate the roads, with a few bands and records and radios providing background music.]

[It seems the Insectum Festival has started its first day in the Bug Queendom!]

[ridhearts]

As you return home, a new friend is thrown into your arms - literally.

*note: this au follows a specific order! please click below for the chapters as they're intended to be read!

overview. ♕ chapter i. [chapter is.] chapter ii. chapter iis. chapter iii. chapter iiis. chapter iv. chapter v. chapter vs. chapter vi. chapter vii.

Intermission I - An Unexpected Guest

By the time you crossed the border into your country, night had already fallen. The rough pebble roads, torn apart by conflict, jostled your carriage, jolting you from the peaceful nap the roads of the Queendom and Savanna lured you into. Sighing into the plush wall, you looked out at the scenery with bleary eyes. Lantern-lit houses dotted the road, huddled far from the well-traveled path in fear. A light mist curled at the ground, gripping the sleek carriage wheels as they turned. In the distance, settled in the valley path leading to the blot-dominated chasm, a thicker, darker fog billowed up into the air - a grim reminder of your most likely fate.

As you approached the castle, you did your best not to worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Riddle would have your head for that, and if you happened to be given another invitation to go meet with the monarchs of any other countries, you had to look your best. Heaving another sigh, your eyes trailed up the abandoned scaffolding and broken sections of tower walls that were becoming clearer and clearer as the carriage drew closer. 

Your eyes were drawn to a sudden movement in the distance, visible in the spaces between the scaffolding. Where the dark, swirling fog of the boundary between your country and the shadowlands settled, one single plume rose into the sky. The thin, spindly tendril curled around itself, leisurely stretching past the light gray mountains and disappearing against the backdrop of the midnight sky. Something cold and uneasy sank to the bottom of your stomach. You had never seen such a thing happen before.

Scrambling to the other seat of your carriage, you pulled on the small curtain and reached through the window to tap the coachman, who yelped in response. Even though you were far from the disturbance in the boundary, you still shushed him - rather ungracefully, to your chagrin. His confused, startled eyes peered at you over his shoulder as he pulled on the reins, willing the carriage to a stop.

"Do you see that?" You whispered, pointing to the tall spindle of fog. The coachman followed the imaginary trail your finger made, squinting to make out the details in the dark. You watched as the wrinkles by his eyes smoothed and his face went slack.

"What in the world…?" He murmured. In front of him, the horse pulling your carriage huffed and shifted on its hooves. You wondered if it felt the coachman's sudden uneasiness. Clearing his throat, the coachman tried to sound authoritative despite the tremble in his voice. "Fear not. I will get you to the castle safely and your family can hide while we send out troops to investigate."

"What? No!" You hissed. The frame of the carriage window was too small to fit your head through, but you pressed your face as tightly as you could against it anyway. "Take me to it. I'll check it out."

"But your highness," he protested calmly, "I cannot allow any harm to befall you. Please, allow me to take you back to safety."

"If there's a breach in the boundary, nobody will be safe anywhere," You argued back. Then, betraying your own fear, you added, "Besides, it's such a small thing. Probably just the wind. All we need to do is confirm."

Your fake level voice was far more convincing than his had been. You almost let a proud little grin show on your face, but you needed to act the part of a leader. The coachman was almost convinced by your cool attitude, but he hesitated once again.

"Protocol states that your safety must be preserved at all costs."

"What does protocol state I should do when a member of the castle staff refuses to listen to a command?" You asked. The coachman opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. "Take me to the boundary."

Huffing, you threw yourself back to your original seat in the carriage, crossing your arms and staring out the window at the boundary. The carriage didn't move for a moment, the coachman clearly getting his bearings. You tried to embody Riddle - the petulant, self-assured version of him, the one who would never let a member of castle staff disregard his word - but something gnawed at you. After all, you weren't raised to be an absolute authority or a strict ruler. You were raised with good old common-folk manners.

Sighing once more, this time much more dramatically, you crawled back to the window behind the coachman and gingerly pulled aside the curtain. "Take me to the boundary, please. And thank you."

A beat. The coachman cursed under his breath, then the carriage started to move.

Once you arrived at the boundary, you threw open the door to the carriage and stepped out before the wheels stopped turning. The coachman called out for you while simultaneously swearing at the horse for stopping so slowly. You stopped in your tracks, eyes fixed on the mingling fog, weightless white twining with deep, dominating, inky black. There was a single spot directly beneath the rising plume that looked a little thinner than the rest of the boundary, like a gaping void that could swallow you up. With a tentative step backwards, you shouted for the coachman.

“Do you have a sword?” You asked over your shoulder, unwilling to take your eyes off of the breach. The coachman wordlessly walked to you, his shoes scraping across the loose gravel until he stopped at your side. When you held your hand out for the sword, he looked at you as if you were insane.

“Your majesty, surely you don’t expect me to allow you to approach the boundary by yourself.”

“I have military training.”

“As do I. We would not allow the royal family to go so far from home without the proper protection.”

Casting a sidelong glance to the coachman, you nodded once, firm and assured. If you hadn't been in your serious battle-ready mode, you would've flushed at having overlooked such a sensible detail. The two of you crept closer to the opening. Your footsteps were careful, purposely as silent as they could be on the rocky ground. Your legs kicked up some of the white fog, the two of you wading through it like knee-high waters. The fabric of your rumbled clothing bunched at the bottom, effectively chilling your ankles in the cool night air. The cavernous abyss waited for you, watching the two of you move with a languid lethargy, two startled deer approaching a lion waiting to pounce.

When you accidentally kicked a small shower of pebbles, both you and the coachman froze. Where the shadows and the fog were twirling around was now completely, utterly still. No wind dared to blow; no human dared to breathe. Then, the unmistakable sound of a twig snapping caught your attention.

“GNYAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Something small and black flew out of the breach, almost as if it had been propelled by a canon. The coachman stepped in front of you in a flash before you could even lift your arms up to your face. He held the sword defensively, bunting the creature out of the air. Startled blue eyes stared up at the coachman for a split second, while blue flames licked out of the creature’s ears and illuminated its cat-like face. The coachman faltered, and the creature struck.

It jumped on the coachman’s head, digging its claws into his scalp and yowling louder than you’ve heard any other animal scream. The coachman dropped his sword and stumbled back, trying to coax the animal’s claws out of his head and pull it off at the same time. Tripping over his own feet, the coachman landed flat on his back and you dove for the sword.

You didn’t have a moment to worry about whether or not you might hit the coachman. The moment you skidded to a stop beside him, you raised the sword above your head and put all your weight behind the swing. The creature noticed the shadow you cast and looked up at you, panic flashing in its eyes when it registered the sword.

“W-WAIT!” It yelled in plain English.

You stopped, nearly teetering over from the momentum of the sword. The coachman rolled out of the way, picking the creature up by the scruff of its neck. All the while, the creature yelled and complained in words you could understand, though its body hung limply from the coachman’s hand. While both you and the coachman panted to catch your breath, you looked to the boundary, only to see that the breach had closed.

“What is that thing?” You asked once you caught your breath, staring at the creature. It watched you with a flat, unamused expression. You almost thought it was pouting.

“I…have no idea,” The coachman admitted. Realizing the boundary was solid, he huffed and held out his hand. “Give me the sword. I’ll finish the job-”

“WAIT! No!” The creature wailed, kicking its legs as much as it could. The coachman furrowed his brows, focusing on keeping his grip on the creature firm as it wriggled.

You gestured for the coachman to relax before standing in front of the creature. “You can talk?”

“Duh! Don’t you have ears?” The creature responded. Its tone was dripping in pure pomposity.

“How did you get through the boundary?”

“I’m the great Grim! I can do anything!” It said with a self-assured smirk. You and the coachman exchanged exasperated glances.

“Such a powerful, unidentifiable creature poses a threat to national security, wouldn’t you say?” You asked the coachman. He nodded sagely while Grim’s eyes darted between the two of you, panicked.

“Might I suggest the dungeon, your majesty?” He asked.

“Ah! Wait! No, let me explain!” Grim insisted, wriggling his legs again. “I - I don’t actually know, okay? I was lookin’ for food, got too close to the border, and it just spit me out!”

“What were you doing in the Shadowlands?” The coachman asked firmly. Grim shrugged as best as he could while in his grasp.

“I dunno! I think I lived there? But, to be honest, I don’t really remember…”

You and the coachman exchanged looks again, clearly dubious. Grim’s stomach grumbled almost as loudly as his earlier yowling.

“What should we do?” The coachman murmured. His eyes narrowed on the dejected creature in his hands - clearly, he wanted to get rid of the noisy nuisance. A sympathetic string was pulled in your heart, though, and as you looked at the creature with tears in his eyes, you couldn’t just leave him here to die.

“I think I should welcome my first royal guest,” You answered. Then you reached out and collected Grim in your arms, holding him like a baby. He shrank into you, probably wanting to stay as far away as possible from the coachman. “He may remember something and be able to give us valuable information about the Shadowlands. Besides, he’s in our country now, and I refuse to let any of my people go hungry.”

Though he appeared utterly disappointed, the coachman didn’t put up a fight about your official decision. He held the door open for you instead, making sure to give Grim a cold glare before taking his spot at the front of the carriage. Finally, you would make it home.

“You’re way more reasonable than that guy,” Grim muttered. You tried not to chuckle at your coachman’s expense.

By the time you were allowed to return to your room, the sky had turned a deep sapphire blue, trying to keep the last cover over the world against the rising sun's persistence. Processing Grim wound up taking hours, because, apparently, he was a creature composed entirely of mysteries.

The first thing you had to do was debrief your father on the situation. After answering a generous amount of questions about the momentary breach, you explained how a catbeast had been launched out of the shadowlands and into your arms. Your father was a curious and courageous man, so you led him to the dining room where Grim was feasting on some bread and meats. The two of you went unnoticed while he gobbled up his food in record time.

“What do we do with him?” You whispered, watching with morbid interest as he gulped down his food. When not mistaken for a terrifying threat to your country and the entire continent, he was sort of cute…in an annoyingly endearing way.

Your father hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can't say I know. Are you certain he isn't dangerous?"

You shrugged. Grim seemed like a lot of things - arrogant, reckless, gluttonous - but dangerous didn't seem to be in his wheelhouse. Not when he was so scared of your clumsy attempts to disarm him, or how he curled into you to avoid the coachman's wrath.

"Fairly certain," you answered. "I know that anything from the Shadowlands should be treated as a threat, but look at him. He's different. He's more sentient than the phantoms and he's been docile ever since we stopped trying to attack him. It didn't feel right leaving him to starve…or cause panic if he was spotted in town."

"I think you made the right choice," With a nod, your father waved for one of the guards nearby to approach. "However, the coachman wasn't incorrect in his caution. We'll keep him locked in one of the unfinished guest rooms until we figure out how much of a threat he is."

"All by himself?" The guards approached Grim then, gently leading him towards the new quarters your father assigned. Grim didn't put up much of a fight, satiated by the food and the promise of a bed.

"Better than the dungeon, wouldn't you say?"

"Have the dungeons been repaired already?" During the war, the revolutionary forces staged a raid to free the political prisoners locked beneath the castle. Your father always told the story of smoke and gnarled metal like it was an old hero's tale and not his own doing. As he reported, the dungeons suffered massive damage and were nigh on unusable once everybody cleared out. Perhaps it was ironic that now he was the one in charge of cleaning up his own mess.

He averted his gaze, indicating that no, they had not been fixed and that was why Grim was being afforded such luxurious accommodations. You expected a spark of indignation to flash inside your chest, but you could see the logic behind the blasé way your father talked about imprisonment. Allowing Grim inside the castle at all was a gamble. Before you could trust his intentions, you had to learn something about him. Even then, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t succumb to blot exposure at some point. Keeping him on lockdown was the most sensible option.

“Alright,” You agreed. “I’ll be checking on him every day, then.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Giving you an affectionate pat on the head, your father turned and went to give orders to those who would be keeping Grim under watch.

Finally, you could sleep.

As it turned out, Grim was a destructive force.

The first few days, though he complained about being held prisoner, he was easily placated with food. When you asked him questions, he got a little irritated after the first few, but his tune changed quickly once you offered snacks in exchange for true answers. He didn’t cause large amounts of trouble for the guards who tended to him when you couldn’t, even though he liked you the best.

Then he got restless, and things got a little more difficult.

Upon entering his room, you saw that the ends of the bedsheets and all of the curtains had been ripped to shreds. Grim sat in the middle of the room, postured much like a housecat, watching the door in smug satisfaction. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to do with the tattered scraps of cloth strewn around the room. Instead, you silently shut the door and instructed the kitchen staff to withhold dessert from him.

He let you have it the next morning, bemoaning how you starved him and your kingdom clearly didn’t know how to treat guests. Then, catching the glint of your silver crown as you shook your head in exasperation, he had the audacity to try and bargain for answers. He just wanted a couple of jewels! It wasn’t anything a monarch would miss, surely.

When you wouldn’t cave to his demands, he took to escape attempts. The first time, he nearly made it out of the front doors, but you dove for him and crashed on the hard, polished floors. He kicked and squirmed in your arms, yowling about wrongful imprisonment and tyrannical rulers. His tune didn’t change after you personally carried his dinner up to his room.

At wits end, you decided to try to dine with him and maybe reestablish the shaky alliance you formed with him on that first night. The guards opened his door for you, standing behind you in a defensive stance in case he decided to bolt again. Having smelled the food, Grim decided against running and instead sat expectantly at the small tea table in his room.

When you sat across from him, he barely paid you any attention, favoring the food in his bowl instead. It was beef stew, the biggest meal the chefs had prepared in weeks. You were hardly wanting for sustenance, but after many of the fields in the land had been destroyed and livestock confiscated during the war, everyone had to ration their meat and grain to get by. That included your family - after all, it would hardly make sense for you to overthrow a king for misallocating resources, only to do the exact same thing once you were in power.

“Finally! Some good grub!” Grim cheered with his mouth full. You huffed, taking a dainty sip of the broth from your spoon. As you watched Grim shove his face into the bowl, broth dripping from the fur on his chin, you wondered if this was how Riddle felt when he first met you and inwardly cringed.

“I’m glad you like it,” you tried to respond gracefully, though you were unsure if Grim could hear you over the sound of his own slurping. Sighing, you decided to let him eat before grilling him with questions.

Grim was halfway through with his bowl when he broke the silence - which didn’t take very much time at all. “By the way, what gives? You only break out the good stuff when you’ll be eating what I eat?”

“I’ve been eating the same thing as you have the entire time.”

“Well then, why is your food so disappointing?” Masking your emotions was an art you hadn’t quite mastered. You could feel your eyebrows furrowing deeply, holding Grim in a disapproving gaze with a matching scowl. “Come to think of it, even your castle’s falling apart! What kind of country is this?”

Slowly, you let your spoon rest in its bowl with a soft tink. This got Grim’s attention, and he watched as you interlocked your fingers and rested your chin on your hands. “Tell me this first, Grim. What do you know about the current affairs of the continent?”

He cocked his head to the side, inquisitive. “Not much. Politics are boooooring.”

“Well then, allow me to bring you up to speed. My family has only been in power for a few months. We overthrew the last king for being irresponsible in his politics. The war destroyed parts of this castle and many of our fields. Reconstruction takes time, as I’m sure you could surmise.”

At the word war, Grim’s ears drooped and he flinched away. You continued, keeping your voice even. “The barrier you jumped through is a thin line of magic that is keeping the Shadowlands away from us. Should that barrier fail, we would be unable to defend ourselves. We are rationing our supplies and focusing on building defenses for our people rather than opulence for our castle. That is why, up until now, you were not served ‘the good stuff’.”

Grim was silent for a moment, staring deep into his stew as if his image would change into some kind of prophetic vision. “I-I didn’t know…”

Unsure if you could respond civilly, you instead took a bite of the piece of bread beside your bowl. You could feel Grim watching as you ripped into it, not bothering to watch for falling crumbs or opening your mouth to a disgraceful degree. “You know, it would be helpful if you could remember something about the Shadowlands, rather than tear through the room decor with your claws.”

“But nothing’s coming back to me!” He protested. “Will you just throw me out once you realize that? Why bother keeping me around?”

“Because,” you answered coolly, “we were left on our own by the countries around us when we needed them. I don’t intend to let anybody else be left behind.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you turned back to your food. A second later, Grim did the same, eating much more appropriately than before. You didn’t share another word that night, but it still felt like progress.

After gaining a little insight, Grim was a little less combative. Your father was finally able to get a trusted mage to analyze Grim for any dangerous side effects of exposure to blot, and Grim let himself be poked and prodded at with minimal complaint.

“Amazing,” The mage murmured, running the tips of his fingers through the blue flames of Grim’s ears. They started to twitch in response, and Grim glared at the mage from the corner of his eye. 

After a few tests of his magical aptitude - which was a little out of control, but would be able to be controlled with a magestone - the mage ended his examination. He couldn’t find any noticeable signs of aggression and left after he assured you that Grim shouldn’t cause any blot related problems. Having officially been cleared, you allowed Grim to accompany you throughout the castle, walking him through the slightly overgrown gardens and showing him which rooms were intact. Along the way, Grim scurried after you, cracking jokes and bumping into tables as his claws skidded across the hard floors. Other than a few narrow brushes with some expensive vases, he proved himself to be good company.

As the days passed, you gave Grim small tasks to help you. He retrieved Riddle’s letters and ran yours to the messenger when she stopped by. He was also proving to be a good listener, even if he preferred to talk on and on about how he could blow you out of the water with his magical prowess if only you allowed it. You didn’t want him to spiral out of control, though, and he actually listened to your instruction…on this matter, at least.

Without really meaning to, Grim became your shadow and accompanied you everywhere. He was granted a seat at the dining table and was even allowed to be present while you discussed more official matters with your family. Your siblings were fascinated by him, and while they got along with him well, Grim was known throughout the castle as yours. Eventually, he even began sleeping in your room with you (after you made him promise that he wouldn’t destroy the curtains.) 

As you were preparing to peel back the covers and fall asleep one night, you huffed at Grim curling up on your pillow. You scooped him up, watching as his limbs hung down limply beneath him. He protested as you tossed him on the other pillow and fell on your spot before he could reclaim it. Muttering beneath his breath, Grim began kneading at the pillow and trying to get comfortable again.

“If you don’t want your spot taken, maybe you should get to bed earlier,” he murmured. It was a backwards approach to showing concern for your wellbeing, but you were beginning to get used to that.

“There’s so much to do…” Throwing an arm over your eyes, you groaned quietly into the moonlit room. “Besides, you should be grateful you have a home instead of stealing other people’s places.”

“Home…” As stealthily as you could, you peeked open one eye and watched Grim. In the powder blue light of the moon, his wide eyes seemed even more striking than usual. They practically glowed as brightly as the fire in his ears, yet neither were so bright that it hurt your own eyes to watch him. His three-pronged tail flickered in thought as he traced the floral pattern on your blankets absently. “I’ve never had one of those before, I think.”

A familiar hollow opened up in your chest, the one that pulled you towards Grim and made you want to help him. You were more similar than anybody cared to notice, after all. Life in a treacherous land made you both a little tough, a little reckless - and now that the storm had subsided for a while, you had to adjust to something entirely new. Hopefully, that something would be permanent. But everything could come crashing down in a moment, sending you both back to hell.

You doubted Grim would agree if you said anything - after all, he couldn’t remember much of anything before meeting you. Even if he did agree, it wasn’t like he’d tell you. Instead, you kept your fondness closely guarded and instead turned to face him, brushing a gentle finger down the bridge of his nose a few times.

“How did it feel?” You asked quietly. “Not having a home, I mean. If you can remember.”

That was where you differed. At least you had your memories of your home, and they were fond. At least you felt like you belonged in this country. At least you could be certain the blot hadn’t entirely changed you. Yet.

“Free,” Grim answered cheekily. But instead of smirking at you, he kept his chin on his front paws, pensive. “Lonely.”

“Mind keeping me company, then?”

Snapping out of his reverie, Grim finally gave you a signature smug grin. “Even your lame rations beat foraging for berries every day.”

Despite your fondness for him, you were not too keen on being Grim’s babysitter for the rest of your life, so you began to concoct a plan to put him to use. At your request for his audience, your father listened to your proposition and nodded thoughtfully as you explained Grim’s progress and the trust you were building with him.

"Ah, I don't know…" Your father mused when you were finished, stroking his chin. "A pet is a big responsibility."

"I don't think he would qualify as a pet," you corrected, though you were entirely unsure if what you said was true. After a moment of thinking, you said, "But running a kingdom is an even bigger responsibility and you're trusting me with that!"

"So I am," your father agreed, slowly grinning.

Days later, after a small magestone had been affixed inside a simple pendant, you searched the castle for Grim. You found him on a balcony overlooking the entrance to the castle, the peaks of nearby cottages visible above the stony walls. He didn’t turn towards you when you opened the door, but he did swish his tail in acknowledgement.

“I have a gift for you,” You said, and he gave you his full attention.

“Don’t leave me hanging!!” He insisted, craning his neck as if he could see behind your back. Stifling a laugh, you presented the magestone to him and watched as he jumped up in excitement. “What are you waiting for? Put it on me!”

“Stop moving then!” Threading a piece of silver ribbon through the top of the pendant, you gestured for Grim to turn around. He did, showing his back so you could tie the ribbon in a neat bow.

“We need to find a mirror. I bet I look the coolest!” Finally calming down, Grim narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. What’s the catch?”

“No catch, though I do have a separate proposition,” You answered. Grim sat expectantly, and you wondered why he insisted he wasn’t a cat when he acted so much like one. “How would you like to be my royal advisor?”

Grim blinked at you for a few moments, processing your request. When he finally pieced things together, he leapt up and began prancing along the railing, recklessly enough that you worried he might tip over and fall. “Well, obviously you’d be desperate for The Great Grim’s advice! You’re smart to take advantage of such a rare opportunity for such amazing help. My first suggestion: make beef stew the national dish!”

You sighed, letting him go on his excited tangent. There was still work to be done - even more than usual, now that you had to train Grim - but at least now you didn’t feel like you were on your own.

[lillotus17]

Kingdom 2

So i know the line up for 'Road to Kingdom 2' is out although im not 100% sure it's confirmed(?)... for those who don't know the lineup is: Cravity, Xikers, ATBO, THE NEW SIX, YOUNITE, and 8TURN... i heard rumours and mentions of tempest but im not too sure. I also know that there are fans that are against road to kingdoms for a multitude of reasons that are definitely valid but as a multistan I can't help but be a little excited for the awesome performances and idol interactions we're gonna get!

anyways, I knos that the show hasn't even aired yet and I'm getting ahead of myself but here's a list of groups I think will be in Kingdom 2 and why! Mostly 4th and 5th gen groups listed! BUt lmk what yall think too!

ZEROBASEONE

For starters Kep1er was on queendom 2. They started off with a strong debut so I definitely see why they would. I don't really have too many reasons for them it just makes sense...? Only downside is that they have to go through another survival show...

2. TREASURE

Honestly for a YG group, treasure is pretty underrated. I think they'd have doubts about participating on Kingdom 2 because tbh it didn't really go well for iKon but I think the leaders of treasure would push an encourage the members to do it. Especially since YG is ass at promoting and they haven't had a comeback in 9 months. I think they'll definitely have a comeback before kingdom and during kingdom. And although they are underrated they are still well-established. Also victims of a survival show...

3. BOYNEXTDOOR

BND is possibility. I feel like because they're under hybe people don't see the need for them to participate but I also feel like they'd want to try something different or challenging since they are still a pretty new group.

4. P1HARMONY

with my whole heart and soul they'd fuck. the. stage. up. I feel as though this is also a very well established group but kingdom would give them an opportunity to better express their creative idol outlet. I think they'd also be hesitant since SF9 participated but they'd also like to try something new/different!

5. NCT WISH

also a maybe group. they are newer so I'd see why they'd participate but they are under SM so i'd feel their fanbase would be bigger but because they are a japanese centered group it would give them an opportunity to promote more in korea. I also feel like they'd do it to prove something - becasue they're new but they also want to show off they're own talents within NCT. PT3 OF VICTIMS OF SURVIVAL SHOWS...

6. &TEAM

Another victim of a survival shows.... also another maybe group. I also think they'd use this as an opportunity to promote more in korea, also try something new and challenging. I think it would also pave way for them to express their artist creativity. I say maybe because they are under hybe but i guess that's probably besides the point?

7. CIX

TBH IDEK i just feel like they would? I am more of a casual CIX listener. Seeing as they are a, imo, well known group I think they'd also do it for the opportunities. They are really talented. I started listening to them bc of jinyoung (wannable) but after watching YGTB i started to get into them more bc of seunghun and bx too... they're also three victims of survival shows... ATP i guess i have a type...

7. AB6IX

ehh tbh idek either... i guess similar to CIX since they are a 4th gen group too. Daehwi and Woojin... more victims...

8. RIIZE

HUGE EMPHASIS ON THE MAYBE. Only really put them down because they're 5th gen. with them I also see it as a creative outlet opportunity and something to prove. like yes we do have talent and our success is not bc of the company we're signed under.

9. TEMPEST

if they aren't on RTK2 then I feel like they'd be on kingdom 2.

10. TWS

cause they're also new? also an opportunity for a comeback.

TBVH i did think of groups that most definitely would not participate but that's due to a number of reasons and in all honestly I'm terrified of fandom wars breaking out.

LMK WHAT YALL THINK! YUHHH!

[ultimavela]

The promised ones: Their origin and the mortal world that rejected them

I wanted to share with you a glimpse into the world I have been creating for you as a promised one.

The land you inhabit is at the west of where the spire once stood. Once a unified queendom, under the ruling of queen Maeve, after the war it has fragmented into different towns, city states, and small villages.

From these collections of places, the ones that have developed a stronger identity and differentiate the most from the rest are:

MOUNTAIN HIGH

CATACOMB TOWER

SLEEPER’S GRAVE

VOID FORT AND OUTSKIRTS

THE ROAD

I want to tell you a little more about these places. To help you understand where you come from. To show you the threads that bind and make the mortal world that rejected you when it discovered you are a promised one.

Here are some more words about your home:

[weepingfoxfury]

Ave Maria is being sung by Hayley Westenra. A few s-adverts and then the man on the radio is playing musical excerpts from Looney Tunes and reading out texts about children who loved the cartoons and took giggling delight in burping the alphabet. The traffic lady talks of Island Road, something to do with Dolphins and debris from a variety of collisions.

Another day of rain and a trip to the shiny metropolis in the offing. You'd think after more than a decade here I'd have sorted out a decent raincoat for myself ... but no.

The curtains are still closed even though I've been up at least 2 hours. Bigger dog (smallest dog's older sister) decided at 6.30am that there was something outside that simply couldn't wait. I obliged with an open back door and then returned to bed with a closed bedroom door. I then lay in the semi dark listening to Signor Floyd as he took the opportunity to enter the kitchen, investigate many, many places and finally he sat outside my door singing the song of his people.

I'll get up soon(ish) ... but, for now, Shirley Bassey is belting out Goldfinger, I'm warm beneath the duvet and all I'm thinking about is the coffee pot.

PS: I was in the shiny metropolis yesterday in the magic middle aisle ... I looked at a weighted blanket and briefly wondered whether I would enjoy such a thing. I then attempted to lift one ... 9kg ... and my eyebrow raised. I disappeared into daydream land, imagined myself beneath such a thing whilst lying in bed, and rapidly came to the conclusion that I have enough difficulty getting out of bed and acquiring coffee. Any further impediments to coffee acquisition would simply never do ...

[Pictures: Cathweegia is bathing in a rare moment of sunshine ... she wonders at my reasoning for hanging 'distressed' dog toys on one of her branches ... and smallest dog, having been and seen all there was to see in the big shed, is now surveying her Queendom, sniffing the air and wondering when her hooman will get the sausages sorted]

[richincolor]

Book Review: When We Become Ours: A YA Adoptee Anthology edited by Shannon Gibney & Nicole Chung

Summary: There is no universal adoption experience, and no two adoptees have the same story. This anthology for teens edited by Shannon Gibney and Nicole Chung contains a wide range of powerful, poignant, and evocative stories in a variety of genres.

These tales from fifteen bestselling, acclaimed, and emerging adoptee authors genuinely and authentically reflect the complexity, breadth, and depth of adoptee experiences.

This groundbreaking collection centers what it’s like growing up as an adoptee. These are stories by adoptees, for adoptees, reclaiming their own narratives.

With stories by: Kelley Baker, Nicole Chung, Shannon Gibney, Mark Oshiro, MeMe Collier, Susan Harness, Meredith Ireland, Mariama J. Lockington, Lisa Nopachai, Stefany Valentine, Matthew Salesses, Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom, Eric Smith, Jenny Heijun Wills, Sun Yung Shin, Foreword by Rebecca Carroll, Afterword by JaeRan Kim, MSW, PhD

My Thoughts: This is a much needed collection that provides an excellent collections of stories representing the adoptee experience. There are so few adopted characters in YA literature and of those few, rarely are those stories told by adoptees. I first heard about this book through Dr. Sarah Park Dahlen, who is an adoption studies scholar and was happy to finally get to read it this week.

In some of these stories adoption is a huge focus, but in some, while the main character is an adoptee, that isn’t really a major part of the plot. It’s a strength that there are such a variety of ways that the adoptees are portrayed. There is a poet, a relative of a queen, a road tripper, a person learning indigenous ways, two people on farms, someone who speaks to ghosts, and many more characters. The majority of the tales are contemporary realistic fiction, but one is sci-fi, one happens in a mythical queendom and two might be described as speculative fiction. One also has a comic format.

Each story feels distinct and unique, but there are common threads of identity, belonging, questioning, loss, anger, love, pain, and healing. Who am I? Where and who do I come from? Am I enough? Where do I fit? and so many other questions are asked and sometimes answered in these narratives. Like anyone coming of age, these teens are wondering so much about themselves, but living as adoptees adds another layer as they navigate the world and their place in it.

Recommendation: Get it now! This is a fantastic collection that many readers will connect with in many ways. It’s an excellent way for adoptees to possibly see some of their experiences on the page of a book and for others, this will be a way to possible see things from that perspective. Shannon Gibney & Nicole Chung have gathered together a talented group of authors and we’re fortunate to have this anthology in the world.

Publisher: HarperCollins Pages: 352 Availability: On shelves now Review Copy: Digital ARC

[cvlutos]

“Heartslabyul’s Annual Valentine’s Day Tea Party”

| 02.13.23 | 0.7K | Rated PG |

Riddle Rosehearts X GN!Reader

Characters 18+ | Fluff | Soulmates | Poetic | Proceed with Caution, Beloved. |

T.Manor.Notes: YAY! I poured my heart and soul into Riddle’s!! Happy Valentine’s Day, Beloved!

RULE 500: SOULMATES MUST PREPARE THE ANNUAL VALENTINE’S DAY TEA PARTY TOGETHER. NOTHING SHOULD BE MISSING, NOR BROKEN, AND MUST BE MADE OUT OF THE FINEST SILK, CLAYS, METALS, AND CLOTH. ZERO SUBSTITUTIONS.

His hands are warm. Firm, like that of a strong oak tree that you once climbed as a child, with its thick trunk and sturdy branches that held your weight then and you were certain that even in old age, would—could hold you know. Ageless yet aged so gracefully as warm sun bleeds through green leaves, warming your skin and giving into your childlike sense of wonder. What could possibly be beyond its leaves, beyond the twisting and winding of branches? You know the answer. The clear blue sky.

Spring is when the thread shines the brightest.

The crimson rope nearly glowing as you spend your days staring at the winding red that wrapped around streetlamps and swished and swayed between lovers who have already found each other. A string that never strays, and you know what lies attached, the special one waiting for you. Calling for you, with every winding of the thread, every turning road it leads you down.

His hands are warm, the string tied oh so tightly to his left pink, like a crimson ring, as your threads wrap gently around both of your wrists and hands. Palms pressed tightly together. The trolley jostles slightly, the bag you're holding swaying in your grip, once again becoming aware of where you were. Sitting upon plush velvet seats, as open-air danced upon your skin and shifted your clothing. The trolley is crowded, overflowing with couples, lovers—soulmates. Some married for years and some married recently. Others only just now finding their other half.

Soulmates.

That word often sends a shiver down your spine, as your glance at the one who sat beside you, who silently gazed at his phone, staring at the checklist of all the things we needed. You glance at the large paper bag that you hold, filled to the brim with decorations. The small trolley once again rocks your shoulder and brushes against his, yet he remains unfazed.

The checklist had all the items needed for the Tea Party. Most of which you acquired, having run around all the Queendom all morning until early afternoon, hand in hand like children in a candy store. Eyes bigger than their stomachs as they stocked up on sweetest delights. Yet with no one to wave a finger in your face and scold you. You both strayed from the checklist slightly.

“You seem quite deep within your pool of thoughts.”

As if someone had popped your balloon, you snap out of your thoughts, shaking your head wordlessly. “Is something wrong?” Soft gray eyes that reveal so much to you. Concern, curiosity, love. All of each in which he wants you to see.

“… No. I was just thinking.” He tilts his head further, brows furrowing together, yet he doesn’t speak, merely observing you. Watching you gather your thoughts in a way that would make sense, he squeezes your hand. A subtle motion, but one that has your shoulders relaxing almost instantly.

“We’re soulmates..” It comes out as a breathless laugh, as if dawning on you, that your soulmate was none other than the Riddle Rosehearts.

“… We are…” There's hesitance, yet not of regret or dislike, but of embarrassment and joy. The apples of his cheeks turn a soft pink, as he does a quick glance to your hand—his hand—hands entwined. He thinks to move for a moment, his palm pulling away. You won’t let him. The action startles him, a gentle clap sound following as your reposition your hand closer, tighter than before.

“Your hand is warm.” He mutters under his breath, eyes moving away from you, as you blink.

What could possibly be beyond its green leaves, beyond the twisting and winding of branches? Beyond the red strings that followed closely behind as you climbed, higher and higher and higher. As you swat aside leaves, feeling branches scratch your cheeks. You knew the answer, yet it’s different. There are clouds. White fluffy clouds that slowly crawl against the blue sky. It’s different, yet—

“I'm happy… that we’re soulmates…“ There’s a breeze that blows, dances across your face, and ruffles your clothing, that makes Riddle’s words seem like a melody you have oh so long to hear.

And it is better than you expected.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited

[fromtheseventhhell]

if sansa stans and neutrals love the idea of trans guy arya, then they shouldn’t bitch so much if arya stans put her ahead of sansa in the line of succession. they love to abide by the rules of patriarchy and arya should get to use the male privilege they keep insisting she has! all hail King Arya! always blocking her sister’s non-existent road to queendom in any form!

So true. They cry about Arya having "masculine privilege" but then when someone suggests that she get something over Sansa that all flies out the window. They only want her to have that privilege hypothetically though; Sansa gets to be portrayed as the poor, long-suffering outcast but never actually in a position to lose out. They can't even keep their takes consistent. Arya being non-conforming means she's privileged but then they write essays on how she doesn't fit into society and is going to leave at the end. Sansa is disenfranchised for being traditionally feminine but also that's going to win everybody over and make her more suited to rule. There's no logic to it, they just want to say whatever to prop Sansa up and put Arya down.