#she’s like… you know… ‘good for him’ about Aerin really

[baldwinboy5ive]

Some friends and I were laughing about how nobody gave a shit that Baldur died, hahah. Well, Arlan did, but nobody in our party gave one single shit hahahaha. Raine was (rightfully) 1000% more focused on "What the hell, you were lying to me the whole time?!"

anyway so I had to make this and I was laughing basically the entire time I was drawing it

(This art is even more relevant after book 2 where Aerin straight up is just like, no regrets whatsoever about this murder, hahahaa. He really goes “If I could do it all over again, I absolutely without hesitation would, no doubt,” hahahha. Good for him.)

[littlemissshoei]

ON MY MIND | OSAMU MIYA X F!READER

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀content warning: unrequited love, light angst, osamu is pining after atsumu's crush, friends to lovers, angst w comfort, happy ending.

A/N: This one is dedicated to Aerin!! I hope you enjoy it heh

Love has its peculiar ways of entering ones life. Ways that aren't always pleasant, such as now. It was strange really, the aching feeling in his chest whenever his mind wandered back to your heartwarming smile, the way your nose crinkled slightly as melodic laughs rolled off your tongue. He has never felt the way he did for anyone; anyone except for you.

Osamu knew better though, you were the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden, off limits, meant to be admired from a distance. So close, yet so far away. No matter how much he craved you, how lonely his heart felt without your warmth, he couldn't bring himself to let you know. After all, he wasn't the only one that felt the way he did.

A girl like you is like a precious treasure, so no wonder Atsumu had his eyes on you too. He made it very obvious too, from his public flirting acts to bragging about courting you to his friends, he made his intentions clear, and Osamu knew that there was nothing he could do.

Yet the boy couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be yours, to wake up in your arms, the warmth of your skin seeping into his own as you mumble a "good morning", fingers combing through his ashen grey hair as he smiles up at you. He couldn't stop his aching heart from wishing for a happy little ending, a life by your side.

You were downright perfect, from head to toes. Osamu happily recalls when you two first met, the way your lips curled into a smile as you shook his hand, eyes nervously darting around as a hue of pink adorned your cheeks when he complimented your looks. He recalls all the times you spent together, hours on the phone, talking about everything that could cross ones mind. And he recalls the way your lips felt pressed against each others when you decided to give him your very first kiss.

You were so close, so dangerously close to crossing the thin line between friends and something more, but with Atsumu's sudden interest he couldn't help but distance himself, not wanting to take away the source of his brother's happiness.

He thought everything would be better off this way. After all, you were just friends. You could easily stay that way. That was what he thought, atleast.

Osamu failed to notice the subtle shift in your behaviour, how your eyes lingered onto his form, hoping to resume the earlier eye contact. How you'd try to revive certain topics knowing he enjoyed talking about them, and how your smile faltered every time he walked away to give you and Atsumu some space. The boy believed things would work out this way. He could bottle up his feelings and let his brother do the magic. The perfect plan.

That was until something caught his attention. Instead of eating his lunch with you, the blonde settled down next to his brother, chewing on his food in silence.

"Yo, 'Tsumu. What's up? Weren't you gonna spend lunch break with [name] like you always do?" He asked, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. His brother swallowed the food and shook his head. "Nah. I need to give her some space man, I think I've been getting on her nerves a little. She was polite about it but y'know." The blonde resumed eating, not paying much attention to the puzzled expression on Osamu's face. "What do you mean?" "Well, I asked her on a date today, but she told me couldn't see me as something more than a friend. She told me she tried to communicate it but it seems like I didn't really catch the signs."

He scratched the back of his head and he smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I bet you're really bummed out right now." "Nah, I'm good. I should've realised from the start." "Realized what." "That her heart belonged to someone else from the moment I tried to win it over."

Silence. Osamu could feel his heart beating out of his chest, a strange, dizzying feeling overwhelming his as he looked Atsumu in the eyes. "Go. I think she's outside."

The boy didn't even bother replying to his brother anymore as he stood up and rushed outside, eyes frantically searching for you in the dozens of groups. Finally, he spotted you, sitting underneath the tree where the two of you shared your first kiss. He approached you nervously, hands trembling as he stopped in front of you.

You looked up, eyes widened slightly as you noticed the flushed expression on the boy's face. "Huh? 'Samu, you alright? You look a little red."

As you stood up to check his forehead, his hand took yours and gently placed it on his cheek, pressing it with his own. You could feel your face warming up, his eyes staring right through your soul.

"You rejected Atsumu huh?" "I had to. I cannot be with someone when my heart belongs to someone else."

And that was when he whispered those sweet words you had been anticipating for so long:

"I love you, [name]"

And you made sure to let him know just how much you loved him too by pulling him into a heartfelt kiss, tears rolling down your face as he pulled you closer.

"I love you too, 'Samu. So much.."

His heart was overjoyed, this felt like a dream. Osamu slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as his hands cupped your face.

"Thank you for allowing me into your heart, I will cherish you forever."

[distraughtlesbian]

can i speak my truth ? can i keep it real ? there shouldve been more in-party conflict in blades 2. like obviously mc should’ve gotten to cuss mal out in particular when he was like You Dont Know What We’ve Been Thru as if getting kidnapped and forced into a magically induced coma and getting your blood stolen and having constant benadryl nightmares is a walk in the park lmfao, and also just gotten to talk more about what they went through and how it’s impacted them

but also there should’ve been way more beef between the other party members. like girl if i’m nia and i’m spiralling scorning sleep and food constantly hunting for a way to free MY GIRLFRIEND (!!) from the clutches of some goth elf cunt on top of making the fantasy catholic church christlike again and repressing my inner shadow demon and one of my friends is like “hesdeadjim.png give up also fuck you” and then fucked off to be an alcoholic pit fighter, i wouldve actually just thrown hands when we saw each other next. no magic no nothing just me and my nasty little fingers (covered in paper cuts from all the arcane shadow tomes ive been reading) coming straight for her eye sockets. staff of silverlake should’ve been nia’s weapon and she should’ve leapt into the pit in chapter 4 and clocked imtura in the skull with it.

like you bitches should be CRAZY!!!! you should all have DISORDERS!!!! you should be begging ravens perched on busts for RESPITE AND NEPENTHE from your memories of me !!!!!! the moon should never beam without bringing you dreams of ME and the stars never rise but you feel MY bright eyes. tyril should be half-mad with grief and stress he should be mumbling to himself and seeing mc’s silhouette in dark corners. nia should be clearly and obviously off her fucking rocker and constantly on the verge of self destructing and taking us all out with her. imtura should be constantly blind drunk so she doesn’t have to feel her grief or anything at all really. mal should have been in the wind the second it started looking like mc wasn’t coming back and nobody’s heard from him in months. kade should be in a bottomless pit of grief bc when he was stuck in the shadow realm we never gave up hope and we went to rescue him but now that the tables are turned he’s slowly losing hope and day by day and night by night we recede and he becomes more faithless. threep and loola should be inseparable sleeping in a pile together never beyond a wing-length from one another and keeping obsessive tabs on all the other party members no matter how far-flung across morella they are because they’ve already lost everyone and everything they knew to the shadow court once and they’ll be damned if they lose anything else. also kade and aerin should’ve built up a weird semihostile rapport bc once everything fell apart and everyone went their separate ways it was just the two of them in the whitetower palace and kade would go to his cell and sit out of arm’s reach to vent about his time in the shadow realm and his grief and hopes and fears. they both knew and loved mc, in their own ways, despite how aerin hurt them, and now they’ve both lost them, maybe for good. maybe one day aerin starts talking back

where is the SPICE where is the FLAVOUR? where’s the DRAMA where’s the OOMPH where’s the PANACHE? you cannot look at me and tell me these dysfunctional bitches wouldn’t fall back into their worst habits once the one person who held them all together up and vanished into the void. why am i not ending each chapter feeling like i’ve just gotten punched in the dick bc the love is so obviously still there and that’s why it hurts so bad. they should’ve put their whole budget and pussies into forcing the party to fit themselves back together even though they’ve all grown new sharp edges and keep cutting each other up. they should’ve gone full dark no stars about it. grief is an amputation but hope is incurable hemophilia you bleed and bleed and bleed, plants that are split down the middle dont heal they die, you are a language i am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read, what lived and died between us haunts me still, if someone asked me at the end i’d tell them “put me back in it”, i care what ghosts think of me, come back even as a shadow even as a dream, someone has to leave first this is a very old story there is no other ending to this story, etc, etc, you get it you understand. also the mc should’ve come back WRONG.

[bedtimegiraffe]

Aerin's Confusion in the Final Battle

I am so tickled by the idea that when the final battle happens, Aerin has no idea what's going on. I mean sure, 'Stop the Ash Empress,' but the rest of it... Nobody seems to really explain to him what they've learned. They clearly didn't tell him about Nia or true magic, and that would have been right at the top of my list of info it would be good for Aerin in particular to know.

And I think it's so funny to picture Aerin being lost and desperately trying to make it seem like he knows what's up while in the thick of this battle. Because he wants so badly for the team to like him and think he's cool. And he's so used to being the one with more information to work from than anyone else. So he's wildly fluctuating between absolutely bewildered and a cocky smirk to try and cover it.

There are so many moments that must be absolutely wild if you haven't gotten the updated lore the rest of the party did-

Nia is what?! And you're fine with that?? ...She can produce invisible magic that turns things to stone. Cool. Good for her. Seems nice.

Princess Valax, the immortal daughter of the Ash Empress is on our side now? ...Cool, cool, I'm not surprised by that. No, you're charismatic, I get it.

I'm sorry, Nia, did you just call her Mother of Grey?? Nifara did what?! ...No, I could have guessed that. It makes perfect sense. Yep, the Old Gods are real and this is one of them.

Yes, what to do about the rifts and portals. I clearly have an opinion because I understand what's going on. But I trust your judgment more than mine, so I'll just tell you I have confidence in whatever you want to do.

[hotdsstuff]

Blood and Ashes

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Pleasures of the Night

Now, we are in the Castle Gardens. A beautiful space full of flowers and bushes. But the most interesting was the  Heart Tree. These trees, as the legend says were already here when the First Men arrived, who with the Children of the Forest drew faces and made tears of blood in them.

Under this particular tree were Rhaenyra, Aerin and Alicent.

Rhaenyra had her head on Aerin's lap while she caressed Rhaenyra's hair. While that, Alicent was questioning Rhaenyra.

- Did you read it?

- Of course I read it.

Aerin looked at her niece with a raised eyebrow. She doubted Rhaenyra would waste her precious time reading that book. The Realm's Delight only answered with a smile.

- When Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take to husband?

- A man.

Aerin would have laughed at that if it wasn't for Alicent.

- What was his name?

- Lord Something.

- If you answer with "Lord Something", Septa Marlow will be furious.

- She's funny when she's furious - said Aerin who loved to see the elder woman get red of anger when the Princess would do something wrong. Rhaenyra only looked at Aerin, silently agreeing.

- You're always like this when you're worried.

Rhaenyra, that until now was playing with a flower, looked at Alicent.

- Like what?

- Disagreeable. You're worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son.

- I only worry for my mother. I hope for my father that he gets a son. As long as I can recall, it's all he's wanted. 

- You want him to have a son?

Aerin, too, looked surprised at her niece's response.

- I want to fly with you and aunt Aerin on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake.

- I'm being serious.

- I never jest about cake.

- You aren't about your position?

Rhaenyra looked at Aerin and snuggled closer to her Aunt.

- I like this position. It's quite comfortable. 

Alicent closed the book and stood up.

- Where are you going?

- Home. The hour has grown late.

Aerin looked up at the sky. Judging by the position of the sun, it wasn't late at all.

- Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. - Rhaenyra said as she got to her feet followed by Aerin. - She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne to husband and burned her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running.

- I don't even know that. -  Aerin joked.

Rhaenyra then approached Alicent and tore a page from the book.

- What are you doing?- asked Alicent in terror.

- So you remeber - said Rhaenyra calmly.

- If the Septa sees this book, then...

- She will kill you - continued Aerin.

- Fuck the Septa. - haggled Rhaenyra.

- Rhaenyra!

Aerin burst out laughing. That one, was the niece she had raised. Her little monster. 

The three then walked together back to the Red Keep.

--

Viserys entered his chambers. Where Aemma was. She was in the bathtub, where she had been for longer than an hour.

- You spend more time in that bath, then I do on the throne. - commented Viserys.

- This is the only place I can find comfort these days. - Aemma sighed.

Viserys dipped his hand in the water. Where it should be, but wasn't hot. 

- It's tepid.

- It's as warm as the maesters will allow.

- Don't they know dragons prefer heat?

- Now you sounded like your sister...After this miserable pregnancy, I wouldn't be surprised if I hatched an actual dragon.

- Then he will be loved and cherished. - Viserys kissed his beloved's hand.

- Rhaenyra has already declared that she is to have a sister. Aerin supported the idea.

- Really?

- They even named her.

- Dare I ask? 

- "Visenya" - Viserys laughed. - They chose a dragon's egg for the craddle that they say reminded them of Valerian.

- Gods be good. This family already has its Visenya.

Viserys was referring to Aerin herself. It was said by the nobles that Aerin was more of a man than most, riding to battle and glory and commanding dragons as no one else had ever done. Furthermore, she and Visenya herself were the only women on record who carried swords. Them being Dark Sister and Dracarys. Legend also said that Aerin and Visenya were as comfortable in silk as they were in ringmail.

- Has there been any word from your dear brother?

- Not since I named him Commander of the City Watch. I'm sure he will reemerge for the tourney. He could never stay away from the lists.

- The tourney to celebrate the firstborn son that we presently do not have. You do understand nothing will cause the babe to grow a cock if it does not already possess one?

- This child is a boy, Aemma.

- Yes.

- I'm certain of it. I've never been more certain of anything. The dream... It was clearer than a memory. Our son was born wearing Aegon's iron crown. When I heard the sound of thundering hooves, splintering shields, and ringing swords, and I placed our son upon the Iron Throne... as the bells of the Grand Sept tolled and all the dragons roared as one. 

- The dragons only roared as one once. And it was for their Mother. For your sister. 

- But- 

- Born wearing a crown? Gods spare me, birth is unpleasant enough as it is. This is the last time, Viserys. I've lost one babe in the craddle, had two stillbirths, and two pregnancies ended well before their term. That's five in twice as many years. I know it is my duty to provide you an heir, and I'm sorry if I have failed you in that. I am...

- No.

- But I have mourned all the dead children I can.

Meanwhile, in her room, Aerin looked out over the balcony at the spectacle Daemon was about to put on. Of all the two of them had done, nothing compared to that.

Down in the middle of the street, all the City Watch soldiers clapped their hands on their chests as their Commander, Daemon, walked by.

- Commander on the floor!

- When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels, starving and undisciplined. Now, you're a pack of hounds. Sated and honed for the hunt.

The soldiers howled.

- My brother's city has fallen into squalor. Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive. No longer. Beginning tonight, King's Landing will learn to fear the color gold. - The soldiers shouted, once more.

As the doors opened, Daemon took one last look at Aerin. This one, from the top of the balcony, could see him perfectly in his golden cape. She nodded at him. One last verdict for his show to begin.

And so, soldiers poured into the streets of King's Landing, imprisoning and maiming any criminal they saw.

Daemon carried his dragon helm, made of pure iron, and behind him came a few more soldiers.

From thieves, Daemon took their hands.                  From rapists Daemon took, well, you know what.  But for assassins, Daemon bore the most painful penalty.                              From murderers, Daemon took their lives. Sliding Dark Sister through their ribcages, piercing their hearts and coating the sword with their blood. Or he would just cut off their heads and throats.

In the end, the streets of King's Landing reeked of blood and death, but that didn't bother Daemon.

The next day, Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, recounted the events of the previous night to the King.

- It was an unprecedented roundup of criminals of every ilk. Your brother made a public show of it, meting out the summary judgments himself. I'm told they needed a two-horse cart...

The King and Hand entered the Small Council chamber. Behind them, without saying a word, came Aerin. The rest of the Council members were already in the room.

- ...to haul away the resulting dismemberments when it was done.

- Gods be good. - Lately, this was a phrase that Viserys repeated a lot.

- The Prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity.

- Brother.  - said Daemon - Sister. - Daemon kissed Aerin's hand as she positioned herself behind him. Viserys still hadn't had a chair made for Aerin. With the amount of times her brother didn't even bother to be present, Aerin sat in Daemon's place. As this one was now occupied, Aerin stood up, behind Daemon.

- Daemon - Said the two in unison.

Daemon then addressed Otto.

- Carry on. You were saying something about my impunity.

- You are to explain your doings with the City Watch.

All the lords placed their stones on the table, sat down, and then Viserys spoke.

- Your new "gold cloaks" made quite the impression last night, didn't they?

- Did they?

- The City Watch is not a sword to be wielded a your whim. They're an extension of the crown. - Otto started talking again, anyways, it was routine, he never shut up.

- The Watch was enforcing the crown's laws. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Strong?

- My Prince, I don't think...

- Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws. - And Otto was speaking again.

- Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending upon King's Landing for my brother's tourney. Do you want them mugged, raped, murdered? You mightn't know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of King's Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying. Our city should be safe for all its people. 

- I agree. I just hope you don't have to maim half of my city to achieve this. 

 - But that's where you're wrong, dear brother. Daemon didn't 'maim' half your city, he killed over half the criminals you allow to live.

Otto turned to Viserys.

- The Princess could not know, Your Grace. She is a woman. There's no way she could even stab three grown men. - But was he blind or stupid? Aerin had already demonstrated her capabilities several times. He had offended her, and many had already died for less.

Aerin, irritated, quickly grabbed her dagger and threw it at Otto. It impaling itself on the chair, right next to the Hand's ear, not an inch away.

- I advise you to be careful Lord Hightower. A woman can easily kill a man, with the right motivation. And. I never miss. - Aerin said with a twinkle in her eyes that frightened even the most confident man.

Daemon, sensing his sister's irritation, then took her hands from the shoulders of the chair and placed them on his own, massaging them. He knew that, right now, he was the only person who could calm Aerin down.

- Time will tell. - Daemon replied to Viserys, trying to lighten the mood.

- We installed Prince Daemon as commander to promote law and order. The criminal element should fear the City Watch. - said Lord Corlys.

- Thank you for your support, Lord Corlys. 

- If only the Prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife as he does his work, Your Grace. - There he was again, Otto Hightower, talking. But does this man never shut up? Especially when he has nothing nice to say. Pissing Daemon off wasn't a good idea, but who said he had good ideas? - You've not been seen in the Vale or at Runestone for quite some time.

- I think my bronze bitch is happier of my absence. -Bronze bitch, ah yes, the fantastic nickname Daemon had come up with for the Lady Rhea Royce of the Vale.

Viserys looked seriously at Daemon, while Aerin just smiled to herself.

- Lady Rhea is your wife, a good and honorable lady of the Vale. - continued Otto.

- In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier. - and Daemon continued. There was only one woman Daemon would ever admit he was attracted to. And this woman was now behind him. With her silver hair and amethyst eyes, the way Aerin controlled the dragons had Daemon raving.

- Dear me. - exclaimed some gentlemen.

- You made a vow before the Seven to honor your wife in marriage. - Otto snapped.

- Well, I'd gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you're in want of a woman to warm your bed. Your own lady wife passed recently.

 At the insult he received, Otto Hightower rose to his feet in a rage, ready to hurl himself at Daemon. But it only took one look from Aerin for Otto to keep his place.

- Did she not? - insisted Daemon.

- Otto - warned Viserys.

- Perhaps you aren't ready to move on just yet. 

- You know how my brother makes sport of provoking you. Must you endulge him? - said Viserys. With that, Otto sat back down.

- My apologies, Your Grace.

- This council has, at great expense, bettered the City Watch to your exacting standards. Enforce my laws, but understand, any further performances like last night's will be answered. - said Viserys to Daemon.

- Understood, Your Grace - Daemon nodded. 

Daemon got up, picked up his sword and left. Behind him went Aerin. She had nothing else to discuss. But inside, the lords continued to talk.

 - King's Landing has been in decline since my grandmother passed. In the end, this new City Watch might be a good thing.

---

Ah, the Pleasure House. Or just brothels, as some call them. A place where our dear Prince Daemon spent a lot of his time. Where by chance, there he was now.

Many pairs of eyes peeked through the gaps in the 'door' and heard the moans that echoed through the four walls. And what did these eyes see? Well, well, they saw Daemon, The Prince of the City or The Rogue Prince or even Lord FleaBottom, with the whore they said was his favourite, Mysaria.

Daemon fucked Mysaria, each thrust faster than the last but he took no pleasure in the act. Daemon tried to imagine that Mysaria was Aerin. He tried to imagine that her raven-black hair was as silvery as the purest star in the sky. He tried to imagine that her earth-colored eyes were violet like amethysts. He tried to imagine that her smooth back was covered with the scars he so cherished, from past battles.

But that was just his imagination. That was not Aerin, the Mother of Dragons. It was Mysaria, some whore.

Daemon then, taking no pleasure at all, turned away from Mysaria and covered himself with a blanket as he had done when he was a child, when he was afraid of storms, when he would go into Aerin's room and she would hold him until he was no longer afraid. All this in hopes that Aerin would walk through that door and welcome him, but that wasn't going to happen.

Mysaria then got up and went to Daemon's side.

- What troubles you, My Prince? I could bring in another. - Mysaria was referring to the whore, herself. - Perhaps a maiden. I have several. I could even arrange one with silver hair. - Mysaria pulled the blanket from Daemon's head.

The problem was, Daemon didn't want another whore, nor a maiden, nor several, not even one with silver hair. For no woman of filthy valyrian blood from Lys would come close to the blood of the Dragon. No foreign woman across the Narrow Sea could match his sister.

- You are Daemon Targaryen. Rider of Caraxes. Wielder of Dark Sister. - Yes, he was, but she wasn't Aerin Fireborn, of House Targaryen. Rider of Valerian, The Last Shadow. Wielder of Dracarys. And that was just one more reason for Daemon's dissatisfaction. - The king cannot replace you. - Can't he?

[aria-ashryver]

You’d mentioned in a reblog once that Dorian and Nia broke up- care to spare some angst and share that story?! How did Shadow!Nia take it as he got closer to Aerin?

Oh my god I pray for the spoons to write more Blades one day!!! I'm sitting on like 6 different fics of theirs lol (or, chapters, I suppose, in their larger story?). I want to fill in all the bits in-between what Blades 1 and 2 gave us!

THEY BROKE UP. OOH. OOF. YES. AERIN. AAHH. MESSY.

Dorian was so taken with Nia when they first met. She was so sweet and naive and precious, and he loved to tease her, loved to show her the world, loved to make her smile. He really had her on a pedestal as this innocent, defenseless little thing that needed to be kept safe.

And then he shoved a sword through her chest.

The guilt he carries is burying him. He broke her, he tainted her, he ruined her, her life would have been so much better if he'd never been in it.

There was a moment, after he'd escaped the Ash Empire, and he first saw Nia again in Whitetower where he smiled at her and it was genuine. The relief at seeing her safe and unharmed was staggering. He almost let those walls drop. He almost ran to her and took her into his arms again.

But he doesn't deserve to touch her.

It wasn't a breakup in words, as much as it was in a complete and silent pulling away. Nia was moorless in the aftermath. She was already dealing with shadow corruption, and now Dorian was just freezing her out?

But the worst part? His smile.

See, she'd been enamoured with his smile from the beginning. Thrust out into the harsh world, she'd been delighted to meet this person who was so optimistic. He was charming and witty and he encouraged everyone around him. No matter how difficult the situation, Dorian found a way to smile about it. That was a little bit magical, she'd thought. His smile was like the Light itself.

Only then, when he came back, when they finally found their way back to one another, he was still smiling and it was all wrong. It didn't reach his eyes anymore, and no one knew how to talk to him, and he was in so much pain and there was nothing she could do to take it away.

But her own pain was festering. Because not only had he shoved her out of his life, now he was letting Aerin in? The man who had done this to them in the first place? She'd never felt so isolated and betrayed.

But there was so much conflict there, because a part of her wanted so desperately to believe that anyone could be redeemed. A part of her wanted to believe that anyone tainted by Shadow could find their way back to the light, and who better than a Priestess of the Light to offer him that hand in the darkness? Who better than her to offer him clemency and compassion?

But it became easier to and easier to just let the Shadow have its way. And Shadow!Nia wants to wring that bastards neck. Shadow!Nia wants Dorian to know she isn't this pathetic thing that needs protecting. Shadow!Nia wants to rip that fake fucking smile off of Dorian's face and force him to face things.

I'm still working on all the lil fics from time to time, but oh god I hope it gets ugly between them all haha (and then better! Bc I like a good dose of comfort with my hurt 😊)

(something something have some snippets 🖤)

‘You feel it too, don’t you? This pull between us?’

His fear was oil-slick and serpentine. It snaked ghostly tendrils down his spine, coiling around his trembling body, pinning his arms to his sides. He should step away. He should raise a hand and push him away!

He was—

He—

Aerin’s hands tangled in the front of Dorian’s shirt tails as he bowed his head towards him. The soft press of Dorian’s lips against his own was the sweetness of guilt and temptation.

Aerin was a coward. A traitor. He was—

Kissing Dorian back before he could stop himself. He was gulping down venom before it could spill from his lips and hoping Dorian couldn’t taste his deceit.

‘You won’t look at me but you’ll fuck him?’

‘I care about him, Nia.’

‘You don’t see how that’s so much worse?’

‘I can’t help how I feel!’

‘Except when it comes to me! You had no problem extinguishing everything that burned between us.’

‘I killed you, Nia!’

‘I’m not dead, Dorian! And yet every day, you insist on burying me.’

‘Be mad! I want your anger, and your ugliness, I want you to hate what happened to us! Be mad with me! Be with me, Dorian. I need… I need you on my side.’

‘I am mad! You think I’m not mad?’

[This one is going to be a re-write of the scene where they trash that noble's bedroom -- only it won't be fun and thrilling, it'll be ugly sobbing and screaming and breaking things bc Dorian can't keep the mask up any more]

omg i have so many thoughts on them and not enough juice to write all the things lmao. I'm gonna do it one day though!!!! Ty for the ask my darling 💖💖💖

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Steel Blue: The Lover

Shades of Obsession Universe

Steel Blue

Yoongi was not sure when he had fallen asleep, but he woke up to a rather tense and chaotic household. From his room, he could hear the muffled voices– one of Taehyung, the other of Namjoon, Jimin and even Jin. As the voices grew louder and over one another, he made his way to the living room.

“I know I fucked up, I FUCKING fucked up! You don’t have to remind me of that.”

“Tone it down Tae, Yoongi is resting— and of course, I need to remind you how bad you fucked up, you know how fucking upset she sounded and how upset it made (Y/N)?” Jin hissed, hands on his waist and the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt rolled up.

Namjoon sat on the couch, legs crossed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, even from where Yoongi stood, he could tell that the leader was barely keeping his fuse and by the way he—

“Shut.the.hell.up!”

And Namjoon’s seemingly endless fuse had snapped. It was evident by the low, guttural growl the man let out.

“Call her,” Jin suggested.

“I already did, I God I already did hyung! She’s not picking up, she’s not!” Taehyung cried out, tugging at his hair frantically before kicking the wall with all his might.

“What’s wrong?” 

Everybody’s head turned towards a rather dishevelled Yoongi, but that was the least of Taehyung’s concerns as he rushed to him.

“Hyung–hyung Aeri, she-she is not picking up my call she left, she left the apartment and she’s just gone!” the younger male was visibly distressed as he breathlessly tried to explain the situation in hand.

“Left?” Yoongi whispered as a familiar cold feeling settled on him.

Like Holly left me?

Yet, he managed to level his voice with a gulp to confirm.

“Calm down Tae, please, calm down. Come sit with me.”

“It’s my fault, it’s my  fucking fault! I screamed at her, told her horrible things and—and marched out of the apartment to clear my mind but–but when I returned, she, she wasn’t there—her car keys, her phone, cards, even her wallet was gone. A–and even her toothbrush!”

Yoongi sighed mentally– a temporary absence was still better than a permanent departure.

“So it was a rash decision, you know her friends, have their numbers?”

“I—I always thought that (Y/N)-ie and we are the only people she is close to,” he whispered out hopelessly.

“And she had not gone to (Y/N),” Yoongi stated

“She had not gone to (Y/N), Taehyung repeated.

“The old apartment she shared with (Y/N)?”

Taehyung only shook his head. He looked devastated and Yoongi could not bare to see his brother like that. He had to do something, anything. He could not afford to let any of the other members experience the pain he had experienced and was experiencing.

The sound of a ringtone pierced through the heaviness settled in the room before everyone’s head whipped towards the source.

Jin fished out his phone from his pocket with an exasperated frown before it smoothened and he picked up the call.

“Jagiya? Everything alright? Hmm–Oh, really? Thank you so much (Y/N)! She’s safe? Okay, okay I will call you soon…yes. Good night, get some rest okay? Yes, I know. Bye.”

Jin sighed with a relieved smile as he put his phone back in his pocket. 

“Guys, I have good news—Yah! You punk, listen here, it is about Aeri.” 

He was in a visibly lighter mood after the phone call and it did help to relieve the knotting tension in the atmosphere. 

Taehyung jumped on his feet at the mention of Aerin “What about Aeri?”

“She called (Y/N) a few minutes ago, she’s at her colleague’s place. (Y/N) is sending me an address and  Aeri mentioned that she doesn’t want to see you right now so…”

“Okay, let’s take out the car, I need to get there as soon as possible.”

With that, Taehyung marched past him, rushing for his car keys, completely ignoring Jin’s words. The latter shared a look with Yoongi and scoffed.

“Let’s just go,” Namjoon spoke up before leading everyone out of the room.

—---------

“Amara? Is it?” Namjoon hummed as he read through the address (Y/N) had sent Jin while Yoongi drove through the quietened streets of Seoul.

Their car finally stopped near an apartment building. It looked somewhat old and perhaps would need a bit more maintenance, but the area was not unsafe– much to their relief. 

Taehyung was ready to jump out of the car but Hoseok stopped him “Tae, she explicitly stated that she does not want to see you right now and the things you spit out at her…” he trailed off with a disappointed sigh.

“Let me and Jin handle this.” he concluded.

“He’s right Taehyung.” Yoongi agreed as he stared ahead at the building, looking around for any passerby. 

If someone manages to recognise them, they would be in trouble. Taehyung nodded curtly before Jin and Hoseok wore their bucket hats, face masks and jackets and walked out of the car.

“Why aren’t they back yet? Not even a text?” 

Taehyung was visibly agitated– not that the younger ones were very patient, but with Aerin gone, taehyung was practically a ticking time bomb.

“Relax they’ll be here.” Jimin tried to reassure him in vain.

“I’m Going.”

Before anybody could react, taehyung was out of the car and jogging towards the building.

“Taehyung–Tae– Jimin and Jungkook, you both stay here,” Yoongi instructed before he and Namjoon chased after the berserk man.

“What the hell were you even thinking?” Namjoon hissed as he grabbed the younger male by his arm. 

“Let’s go and see.” his eyes were struck by the floor above. They were already halfway through the stairs, another floor and they would meet Aerin.

With an annoyed sigh, Namjoon let go of Taehyung’s arm and let continued to climb the stairs instead. Yoongi followed close behind Taehyung, he could already hear some light mummers, and as they approached closer to their destination, the sounds only amplified.

“What do you mean by this? How can you not know us?” Hoseok's voice was wrapped with confusion with a hint of annoyance.

“I mean, I do know you but you people are still strangers. I do not know you.” the woman hissed.

“Has she not—” Jin was cut off by Taehyung

“What is happening here? Where is Aeri?” the three heads turned to Taehyung.

“Look, I’m sorry but Aerin has not mentioned that her boyfriend is a celebrity! How can this be even possible?”

The woman spoke out. Hoseok frowned, Yoongi could see that his patience was wearing thin.

“Listen my friend just—”

“Mara? What’s happening…” Aerin’s voice trailed down as she came out of a room and neared the door.

“Uh…here—they're saying—.”

“Aerin, love, are you okay?” 

Not caring for anything, Taehyung pushed the door open forcibly

“Hey!” the woman was evidently pissed at the rashness, but perhaps not more than Aerin herself.

“What are you doing here?” Aerin hissed at Taehyung

“Love I—”

“I don’t want to see you right now, why can’t you get it.”

“Taehyung, Tae, give her some space, you both need it.” 

Yoongi finally intervened, stopping Taehung from forcibly stepping inside the woman’s apartment.

They could not afford any scandal after (Y/N) and Jin’s almost-exposed relationship.

“Look, we’re sorry, and Aerin, I’m just relieved to know that you’re okay and safe.” 

Jin stepped forward and effectively took control of the situation while Namjoon was engaged with his phone, probably testing Bang PD.

The other woman, though displeased, also stood stiff as a stone. Having seven grown men at one’s doorstep, demanding to see her friend in the middle of the night would be intimidating to anyone after all. 

“We’re leaving, and are greatly regretful for the inconvenience we have caused, it was only out of concern for our friend.” Jin did not hesitate from apologising to soothe the situation.

“Amara, I apologise on their behalf, I should not have dragged you into this.” Aerin’s voice weighed heavy with guilt.

“We are going, we heartily apologise once more.” he bowed deeply before pulling Taehyng along with him.

 The younger man was unwilling but one hard glare from Jin and he was moving along with his head bowed and shoulders sagged as if a child were denied his favourite treat.  

—----

“You know how embarrassing it was?” I told you—fucking specifically asked you to stay the hell back but no!”

Namjoon was fuming– his jaws ticking constantly as he ground out the words. He ran his fingers through his hair, muffling it as they drove back to the dorm.

“Wait, stop the car!” the vehicle came to a jerky halt at Yoongi’s command. 

“Anything wrong?” the manager sounded concerned.

“It will be a quick trip, I promise.” Yoongi huffed while putting on his face mask and cap.

“What’s wrong with you Hyung? You want a drink? I will make you one at the dorm, don’t just risk things now.” Namjoon was visibly annoyed, his shoulders stiffened as he spoke.

“I’m not that stupid Joon, it’ll be quick, I promise.” 

That was all Yoongi had as an explanation before he hopped out of the car and jogged inside the bar–an elite bar that hosted the group regularly, the owner knew Mr Bang and things were generally smoother and better there. But grabbing a drink at two in the morning was a bit unusual for them.

What seemed like an hour later, Yoongi jogged back into the car.

Namjoon chose not to interrogate the older male this time. It had been a rough day for them, first, Holly paid a visit and broke his hyung’s heart all over again and now Taehyung had upset Aerin to the point that the girl had moved away temporarily. He often wondered how would he be when he–if he ever found his ‘the one’? He had been in relationships– they never seemed to work, either he failed to open up or ended up regretting it. 

He glimpsed at a distraught Taehyung and a distant Yoongi. Both anguished, but in love. Namjoon knew that their ‘love’ was…different– to put it lightly, but they did not care. Where they stood was the peak. A lonesome, scary peak. They wanted true, unconditional love, they needed it. They were so starved, littered with cracks, so twisted…They wanted it all when it came to love. And Namjoon knew that he would do everything and anything in order to make sure that his members have their perfect love stories in their palms. He did not care, not anymore.

—----

“This better be urgent, I am having a meeting in the next hour.” even if he tried, Bang PD’s voice gave away the slight irritation he felt.

“I assure you that it is a matter of urgency. And I need Hybe’s long reach.” Yoongi replied as he sat calmly on the other side of the table.

They currently sat in Bang PD’s cabin where Yoongi had requested for a quick but urge t meeting.

“What have you done now?” though he sounded nonchalant, Yoongi knew that PD-nim was shaking his head in his mind.

Yoongi let out a short breath and straightened up, tilting his head slightly “How much deep can we reach in the system?”

“It's all a matter of money and connection. How deep are you willing to go?”

“Hybe has hands in funding the election campaign…”

“What do you want, Yoongi?” 

Mr Bang did not have time to entertain moving around the bush, he hit straight to the point. Yoongi nodded and replied.

“I would need Hybe’s assistance in…something. Just for convenience’s sake. Would a glitch be too much to ask for?”

—-----

Removing his shirt, Yoongi moved towards his closet, feeling lighter but also no less dreary. It had been a long day of shoots and recordings and his eyes weighed heavy. But it was all going to fade soon.

Very soon…

He smirked as he unbuttoned his shirt, his porcelain chest lay bare in front of the mirror with a delicate ‘7’ tattooed on his left and at a pinky’s gap, ‘Min Holly’.

****

Phew! It has been a while since I updated. And believe me, I have been feeling both helpless and guilty. The exams and the sudden passing of a loved one left me...Tired, emotionally drained, mentally drained and overall, I felt I was in a creative stagnation. For a while, I did not like anything I was previously passionate about. Nothing appealed to me, and nothing much mattered-- I was simply following a schedule I had set for myself and fighting to put myself back on track.

But I had been writing bits of each fic and while I had intended to make this part longer, I just wished to update and get into the fanfic writer shoes again. I will update whenever I can, I cannot promise to be regular, academics are keeping me busy these days. But thank you for all your support and patience. Thank you for being so understanding. Just thank you.

[crookedt44th]

MEET THE CHARACTERS AND THEIR STORIES

DISCLAIMERS ➳ THIS DOES NOT ACTUALLY DEFINE THE MEMBERS IN REAL LIFE AND IT IS ONLY FICTIONAL. THE DESCRIPTIONS OF THE CHARACTERS MAY TRIGGER SOME PEOPLE, SO PLEASE BE CAREFUL AND READ WHAT YOU WILL.

ALSO THIS MAY INCLUDE SOME SPOILERS IF YOU COUNT IT. THE REASON I'M POSTING THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE IS FOR YOU TO GET TO KNOW THE CHARACTERS A LOT MORE BETTER. YOU SHOULD KNOW YOUR CORA AS WELL BECAUSE YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE THEM FOR A FAT MINUTE. MAYBE EVEN HUNT GHOSTS WITH THEM. OR SUFFER WITH THEM.

NIGHT IN THE WOODS SERIES ➳ click here to read!

Cora is considered outgoing and energetic, and they enjoy roaming around town and talking to people in shops. They also have a very poor sense of awareness about what they are doing. They take interest in photography, music, and occasionally play guitar. Both of their parents are buddhists; their mother leaves her job every day to visit the temple. Cora is not really a buddhist themself, but they do believe in paranormal stories and its spiritually. They love to wear plenty of flannels and band tees, and they have a blue streak in their hair. Although they had a difficult history filled with depressive and irrational episodes. Cora managed their issues while they were still young by doing as their doctor advised. They had a violent incident in middle school, though, and people called them "the killer," "disrespectful," and "jerk". As the years pass, it seems they have undiagnosed dissociative disorder, which was the main reason for dropping out of college. However, Cora does have their compassionate moments. They do not feel embarrassed to show their genuine affection for those they loves and for the rats they frequently visits in the subway, feeding them treats they stole from the grocery store. Cora feels nostalgia for Stormville from the time they left for college, even though they often think about how much the town has changed since their absence. 

Minho is quiet, but this does not imply that he is shy. He talks whenever he wants to. He's an introverted guy who prefers to do his favorite activities alone. Besides being quiet, he is seen as the most charming and handsome guy a lot of the girls drools over. He likes to read books, cook, work with computers, and do outdoor activities. His hair is dyed a reddish brown tint, which he sometimes changes. He also wears sweaters that he thrifted. Minho works at his mother’s coffee shop on days she’s not on shifts. He's been planning to save up his money to live on his own. On his days off, he frequently attends band practices to see them perform songs. He doesn't consider himself to be religious; he presents himself as an atheist and has never held any true spiritual beliefs. Minho found talking about his family to be quite challenging. Before his mother eventually married another man and had a daughter, Aerin, his younger step-sister, he was supposedly the only child of his mother. His mother and his own kid were the only people who his stepfather looked out for, although he never truly liked Minho and verbally abused him. Because of this, he often experiences abandonment issues. Minho has been the closest friends with Cora since middle school until they left for college, leaving him to overthink they left him. Though he does not express his emotions well, Minho is deeply concerned about others’ safety and well-being. 

Jisung is talkative, energetic, and rebellious. He is a really punk-like guy that enjoys good old punk rock and plays guitar. He works at a record shop and goes to band practices after work. Despite his outgoing and upbeat personality, Jisung worries that he might accidentally ruin his friendships. Jisung has ups and downs on random days, and it's possible that he suffers from bipolar disorder to some extent. He is known to be extremely excitable, often showing his joy by shouting or clapping his hands rapidly. He appears to have very little impulse control, though. He may be a troublemaker, but he cares for his friends and is eager to help them anytime they need it. Jisung and Cora are often having their most meaningful talks at a usual spot by the lake whilst having a picnic, hangs around Chan's work a lot lately, and party with Vanna every once a week. As for Minho, they used to be close as well until they eventually stopped after Cora left for college. He recently met someone online he played games with and has been planning to meet them soon, considering they may have romantic relations.

Vanna dresses 100% gothic, wearing only black to fit her dark personality and listening to The Cure religiously. Even in the summer, she enjoys dressing in several layers, such as a long black coat worn over a long sleeve shirt and topped with a scarf. Having seen a series of bad incidents in less than two years, and having witnessed firsthand the growing economic downfall of Stormville, Vanna has grown a very gloomy and cold perspective. She rarely laughs at jokes and, depending on her mood, will respond with sarcasm or anger. She probably uses her strong smoking habit as a way to cope with the stressors in her life. Her dream was to escape from this town, but it was held back, due to having a lot of responsibilities and duties in order to look out for her parents and little siblings as an oldest daughter and sister. She works from morning to afternoon in a grocery store and will come home right after to take care of her father. On some days, she will sneak out around midnight and go to parties with Jisung. She is also very against the fact that Jisung and Cora are being troublemakers and stealing things from shops. Although, that doesn't mean she should hate them.

Chan typically dresses in expensive clothing and accessories that his father bought him, but he also wears all-grunge looks. His siblings and family are very involved in the community and like lending a hand, particularly at the church. Most of the time, Chan spends time with his family, works in his father's outlet store, goes to church with his mother to pray, and makes sure to drop his siblings off at school every day. Everyone in the town adores Chan, and they all hope to see him become a priest or marry their daughter. In the friend group, he acts as a parent figure by ensuring that everyone eats healthily and by supporting them during difficult times. He may be the only one in the group who is well-cared for and privileged to be raised in a good family. But he has a deep secret no one knew about.

Aerin, the youngest step-sister of Minho, is currently finishing her senior year of high school. She finds it difficult to get along with Minho because he has always been cold to her and hasn't been home very much. Her parents encouraged her to seek a career in nursing since they were proud of her for being a cheerleader in high school and having a very good GPA. Aerin wondered if her brother would get along with her just fine if her father treated him equally, even if she couldn't help but feel bad for him because he doesn't get enough attention. 

Felix used to be close friends with Cora and Jisung. He was formerly the drummer in their band. Before disappearing, he regularly participated in "crimes" with Jisung and Cora, giving the impression that he had a wild side. He was also a close friend of Minho, but he doesn’t tell much about his times with Felix. Everyone assumed that he boarded a train shortly before Cora returned home. 

Lori is a middle schooler who enjoys playing video games on his Nintendo. Lori and Cora had been talking about different topics every morning beside the statue or sometimes at a local library before heading off to do their own thing. Despite being warned to stay away from them, he went out to help Cora whenever they needed him. 

[skepticalfrogcat]

This fic is Part 2 to this fic, which I do recommend reading first but it isn't REALLY necessary. Just be prepared to be a little confused about a couple of minor details if you don't feel like reading a whole other oneshot first.

(This is dedicated to @lovehugsandcandy who gave me the motivation to write this, this is a gift for both of us)

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) x Aerin Valleros

Warnings: Nothing major, except some very minor and very brief violence and the fact that this fic doesn't have a particularly happy ending.

Word Count: 4,297

Summary: Following Finch's discussion with Nia, he makes a difficult decision with some painful consequences.

~~~

In the days that followed, Finch found himself with a lot to think about. He thought he did a rather good job of hiding it, and of course he tried not to think of the particularly difficult things much at all. But every so often - perhaps as Mal cracked a joke over a round at the tavern, or Kade went on about some new book he'd read - Finch would catch Nia giving him very pensive looks. He wished she wouldn't. Not only because it felt at times like her hazel eyes were boring into the back of his head, but also because his worst fear was that someone would notice and ask him why.

He wasn't prepared to divulge any of the secrets of the night Nia had visited him, and - thank the Gods - Nia didn't seem to be either. As far as he knew, she had kept her promise to him. He hadn't expected anything different, she was probably the last person he'd expect to ever break a promise. He'd kept his promise to her, too. Most of what he'd been thinking about lately, aside from other, less shareable thoughts, had been what he was going to do next.

It was nearly impossible to decide. At least out of all of the hard things he'd done while he and his friends were searching for the onyx shards, he hadn't had to make very many decisions himself. The quest probably would've gone much worse if he had. In this situation, though, it did seem like the best choice to rip off the bandage. He'd deliberated on it for a while, but at the moment it really just seemed like letting his thoughts and feelings lie would only be torturous for him. He had to go, or else he'd never be able to move forward. He'd just be haunted by all the ‘what if's and ‘if only's. He just had to get closure.

But he needed to prepare first. If he'd learned anything from - well, from everything, it would be that it was always best to enter a situation knowing as much as you could about what you were getting into. He knew he'd have to ask someone about visiting. However, he also wanted to keep the reasons behind his visit close to his chest. Those two things combined had led to what he'd hoped was a fairly unsuspicious conversation with a soldier who was often stationed nearby the cells.

He'd made some small talk first, mostly about other goings on in the kingdom, because he knew that approaching immediately with the question he wanted to ask would set off alarms. But when he'd started to feel like he'd been there long enough, he had finally gotten to his point.

~~~

“What are the protections like, when someone goes down to visit a prisoner?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in a way he hoped read as casual. “I just know that some of my friends might've been going, and I think it's about time I go for a visit myself. What should I expect?”

“I'm sure we could arrange that for you. We take minimal risks while allowing visitors to the prisoners,” the guard responded. “All visitors are accompanied by a varying number of guards determined by both importance, and how dangerous the prisoner they're visiting is. We don't even let visitors enter the cells most of the time, save for certain circumstances. I'm assuming you're speaking of paying a visit to the traitor prince, meaning you'd likely be given three guards, and you would not be allowed into the cell.”

Finch nodded along, cataloging all of that new information into his brain. He couldn't help thinking that deciding how many guards to give someone based on how important they were was a bit unsavory. It was like ranking people by how much it would matter if they died. Hearing Aerin referred to as the ‘traitor prince’ also put a bad taste in his mouth, even though he knew it was objectively true.

“Along with that, we also ensure that none of our prisoners are in possession of weapons, and we don't allow any visitors to bring weapons into the cells in order to prevent injury.” The guard seemed very pleased with herself as she bragged about the security measures of the prison.

“I don't usually carry my weapons on me anyway, but you wouldn't have to worry about me hurting anyone,” he laughed, finding the idea a bit absurd.

“Oh, no, we're confident that someone like you won't engage in any violent behavior,” the guard clarified. She fiddled with the key ring around her belt as she spoke. “We wouldn't allow you to carry any weapons because we want to make sure he won't hurt you. But you don't have to worry about that, since you won't have to go into the cell.”

Suddenly, any ounce of humor left the situation. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Aerin might try to hurt him while he was there. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Now that he was thinking about it, it seemed like an oversight on his part. But the fact that his mind hadn't even registered the idea of it brought back that all-too-familiar shame.

“That sounds reasonable,” he smiled politely, putting on a pleasant facade even when he wanted nothing more than to shake the guard in front of him and tell her she knew nothing about Aerin. “I'll let you know when I decide to go, then. I haven't settled on a time yet.”

“Alright. Have a nice afternoon, Hero of Whitetower. I'll be looking forward to your return.”

~~~

That conversation had happened three days ago, but Finch hadn't gone back to meet with that soldier. Something about the whole procedure of it hadn't felt right to him. It was much more strict than he'd anticipated, although he supposed it made sense when it came to visiting a prison cell. Still, he knew that having so many guards with him would prevent him from having the conversation he wanted to have. He couldn't be accompanied.

Now, he was leaving his room in the dead of night to go do something he absolutely shouldn't have been doing. He shut his door carefully behind him, not wanting to alert anyone of what he was doing. The only reason he was going at night was because he knew there wouldn't be quite so many people wandering the halls of the castle. He didn't want to have to explain his way past dozens of guards. If he went at night, he'd only have to sneak his way past a few of them. He'd even dressed himself in dark colors to make it easier to merge with the shadows.

The journey to the dungeon was rather short, and he didn't run into any obstacles aside from a few sleep deprived guards taking the night shift as he got close to the entrance. It seemed as though the majority of the prisoners they had in the cells weren't considered particularly ‘high-value’, so they weren't as concerned about guarding them. There was only a single guard stationed by one of the cells in the long block. It wasn't difficult to determine who that cell belonged to.

Before his conscience (and arguably his common sense) could get a hold of him, he began inching his way further into the hall. Finch silently thanked Mal for sharing his wisdom as he neared the guard, still unnoticed. Then, like a snake lashing out for a bite, he caught the guard in a chokehold and placed a hand firmly over their mouth so they couldn't call out and alert the other guards. He applied even pressure until he felt the guard slump in his arms. As he placed the guard's limp body on the ground, it caught up to him that he was doing all of this just to see Aerin on his own terms. That was a troublesome thought to have. But before he could dwell on it, a quiet voice interrupted him.

“Who's there?” Finch's heart jumped into his throat. He would've known that voice anywhere. Memories crashed into his brain like a brick wall. Memories of the Deadwood, and drakna, and sitting by a lake. Of a wicked sword, and a killing blow, and a near escape. But, most prominently, of dark hair, and bright, curious eyes, and lips on his that he so desperately wanted to forget.

“I know someone's there, I heard you,” Aerin continued after what must've been at least a minute of silence.

After a moment more, Finch responded. “You weren't supposed to.”

Another stretch of silence followed. He imagined Aerin was going through something very similar to what he just had. Or perhaps he simply hoped so. “...Finch?”

Finally, Finch stepped in front of the door, looking in through the small, barred window. He pulled back the hood he'd been concealing his face with. “I wasn't going to come,” he admitted into the darkness. He couldn't see Aerin through the shadows of the cell. That made it easier, in a way. “But I was told that I should.”

“So that's it, then?” Aerin questioned, as if he was expecting more. Maybe he had the right to. “You chose to come here in the dead of night, completely unaccompanied by guards, just because someone told you to? That doesn't sound like something you would do.”

“I guess neither of us have really been acting like ourselves, then,” Finch pointed out. He heard Aerin laugh, and had to close his eyes in order to process the swell of overlapping emotions that came with it.

“You sound really sure about that. Sure that you know what it means for me to be ‘acting like myself’, I mean.” That reminder was a harsh blow. There was the Aerin he'd met in the Deadwood and the Aerin who had killed his brother in cold blood and kidnapped Nia, and Finch didn't know which Aerin was the real one. It very well could've been this one. It probably was. “Still, I don't believe someone telling you to is the only reason why you came here.”

“And what makes you think you know me well enough to decide that for me?”

“Because if I were out there and you were in here, I know why I'd be coming to see you,” Aerin answered matter-of-factly. “Now, are you going to stay out there, or are you going to come in so we can actually talk?”

That gave Finch pause. He glanced to his left, at the still unconscious guard. They had a key ring on their belt, much like the other guard Finch had spoken to. He could only assume Aerin knew the keys were there. But Finch hadn't planned on entering the cell at all, his plan had always been to stay on the other side of the door, to get it over with quickly. He wasn't as sure of that now. It was a risk, he knew that; Nia probably hadn't actually entered the cell, no matter how many times she'd visited. He'd been so sure that Aerin wouldn't hurt him, but how could he be? It wasn't as though Aerin had never done anything unexpected in the past.

But Aerin was right: how were they ever supposed to have a real conversation if they couldn't even see each other? Finch had thought the separation would help things stay impersonal, but that hadn't worked. It still felt personal, it just also felt wrong.

He grabbed the key ring.

He had to try a couple before he found the one that worked, but when he heard the click of the lock opening, he froze. He'd just unlocked the cell door of one of the most valuable prisoners in the dungeon. And now, he was going to go into that cell with him. He closed the door behind him as he stepped inside, as if that would matter. He couldn't lock it again from the inside.

“If you're worried about the lock, don't be,” he heard Aerin say from the other side of the cell. The sound of chain links clinking together followed, and Finch assumed that meant Aerin was shackled to something. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. “I wouldn't leave now, even if I could.”

Finch turned and took a couple more careful steps into the room. As he came closer, and his eyes adjusted to the dark, Aerin's face became clearer. He looked just as Finch remembered him. Not as he first remembered him, though, no; as he'd looked when they'd last seen each other. Aerin's skin still had that pallid gray tone, and if Finch looked closely he could see the dark black veins creeping across it. His eyes were still clouded with black, too, and they were narrowed as though he was putting Finch through exactly the same examination. He didn't look quite as regal as he had the last time Finch had seen him, though. Maybe because he was in much simpler clothes, or because he was chained to the floor by his ankle. Probably both. He was sitting on a wooden slab that had been attached to the wall like a bench, which only looked marginally more comfortable than the stone floor.

“You haven't changed much, have you,” Aerin noted, a smirk crossing his face.

“Neither have you.” Finch stood a few feet away from him, not because he was afraid of Aerin per se, but because he was afraid of what getting closer would do to him.

“You're allowed to get comfortable, you know. I'm not going to bite you,” Aerin shifted the way he was sitting, leaving enough room on the wooden seat for Finch to sit down beside him. Finch remained standing. “Alright then, if you're dedicating yourself to that, I can't stop you.” He paused, glancing away for a moment, before looking back up at Finch. “Who told you to come?”

“Nia did. She said she's been coming, and she thought it would be best if I did too,” Finch explained, feeling like that was enough information for the time being. Nia's words still rattled around in his head, though: He has been asking about you. Finch wasn't going to mention that. It would've only made things more complicated.

Aerin rolled his eyes. “Of course she did. Probably another effort to ‘purify’ me. I have no idea why she thought sending you would work, though.” His eyes narrowed. “But the real question is, why did you listen to her? When she told you to visit me.”

“I believed her, I thought it was a good idea,” Finch shrugged, averting his eyes. He was lying through his teeth, of course, but that was neither here nor there.

“Come on.” Aerin didn't seem amused by that answer. He stood up and stepped as close to Finch as he could, which was still decently far away, but it was close enough for him to press his thumb against the side of Finch's chin until his gaze was directed back towards him. Finch gently pushed his hand away. “You were nowhere near that into the Light the last time I saw you, and the last time I saw you, you were actively wielding a massive Light sword. Do you remember that?” He asked, an unmistakable teasing tone in his voice.

“Yes, I do remember that. And I'm sure you remember why I was doing it.”

“I do. So give me the real reason.” Now that Aerin was standing, they were eye level with each other, and Finch found himself unable to look away. Even with that darkness in them, his eyes still held something that could capture Finch's attention in an instant. “And I'll know if you're lying.”

Finch sensed a running theme of people being able to read him like a book, or at least claiming they could. He floundered for something to say. “I can't tell you,” he landed on, knowing that was probably the worst thing he could've said.

“Great,” Aerin sighed, dragging an exasperated hand over his face. “Why?”

“It would be… counterproductive,” Finch attempted to explain.

Aerin's brow furrowed. “What, so telling me why you decided to come would ruin whatever plan you have for how this should go?”

Finch clenched his hands into fists, then stretched his fingers all the way out. “I know it's confusing, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“Ironic choice of words given that you'd probably refuse to trust me, if I asked you to,” Aerin crossed his arms.

“I have a good reason for not trusting you,” Finch reminded him.

“Which is why I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm just asking you to be honest with me. It isn't like I have anyone to reveal your dark secrets to anyway.” Aerin gestured around himself, to the dark empty cell.

Finch looked at the ceiling, then at the ground. After Aerin had betrayed them, Finch had lost all of the faith he had that any of their relationship had been real. Well… almost all of it. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just another case of manipulation. If he told Aerin why he'd really visited, would that information just be used against him? It could easily be the basis to accuse him of treason, of an allegiance to the traitor. And whether or not he was actually charged, his reputation would certainly be tarnished.

When he looked at Aerin, though, even he had a hard time believing that. He would understand, wouldn't he? They'd be done with this night, go their separate ways, never have to worry about each other again. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Telling Aerin that might make it easier. He just had to be clear about what he needed.

“Fine.” Finch took a deep breath. He needed a moment to think of the best way to word what he was about to say. “I haven't been sleeping lately. And I realized that the reason why that's been happening is because I have a lot of unresolved feelings… about you. But I don't want to, and- and I know that I have to get over all of that. So I came here to see you, and I'm hoping that maybe in doing all of this, I can finally get some closure. Then we won't ever have to see each other again.”

As he'd been speaking, Aerin had gotten closer to him. But, wait, that wasn't possible. No, he’d been the one to move in. Unconsciously, sure, but he'd still done it. The fact that he hadn't even noticed was arguably worse. But Aerin didn't look like he found it humorous, as a part of Finch had expected. He didn't look angry either, or upset, or happy, or even all that surprised. He just looked confused.

“I told you not to lie,” Aerin warned, a slight edge to his voice that Finch couldn't identify.

“Aerin, this has been tearing me up for weeks. If I was lying, someone should've told me.”

“Gods, Finch, you stubborn bastard,” Aerin hissed through gritted teeth. “Of course you let that lie for so long. Why didn't you come sooner?” He reached out and took hold of the front of Finch's shirt, pulling him in closer. Finch could see Aerin searching his eyes for something more, some sort of explanation. “What is it that you're so afraid of?”

Finch didn't respond for a moment, simply keeping his eyes locked on Aerin's as he allowed the words to dig into him. He remembered that speaking with Aerin had always made him feel a bit like he was being studied. He supposed he probably was, in a way. That remained true. Now, though, it was the last straw. He felt something snap inside of him, probably his last thread of sense. He placed his hand on the back of Aerin’s neck and, against all better judgment, he kissed Aerin Valleros.

Everything about it was wrong. He shouldn't have been here, he shouldn't have felt this way, he shouldn't have done this. But then the hand holding his shirt was being used to turn him around until he felt his back hit the wall, and suddenly it was all right. More right than anything had been in weeks, maybe more than anything had been ever.

Finch's hand wove up into Aerin's hair, savoring the feeling of it. He'd missed that more than he could've imagined. One of Aerin’s hands pressed flat against his chest, and the other one wandered upwards to brace itself at the side of his neck just below his jaw. It was then that he noticed how cold Aerin's hands were. His face was colder than it should've been too, come to think of it. That realization snapped Finch out of whatever stupor he'd been in.

“Wait, wait,” he muttered, turning his head away from Aerin. 

“What?” Aerin wore a puzzled expression on his face.

“I… I shouldn't be doing this.” Finch stepped to the side and then back into the center of the room. He began pacing back and forth in a line. “Oh Gods, what have I done? I knew I shouldn't have come, why did I ever…” He trailed off into a groan of frustration. He'd just made a massively irreparable mistake. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if that would make the whole situation go away.

“Finch, it isn't that bad,” Aerin tried to convince him. He sounded like he believed it, too, which Finch could only imagine for himself. “At least I'd hope you didn't think it was.”

“It wasn't bad, it-” Finch took a deep breath in. “It wasn't bad, but this is bad. As in, no one can know I did that. No one should know I was even here, really.”

“So that was your closure, then?” Aerin's words had a bite to them that Finch wished didn't cut as deep as it did. He sounded hurt, and it caused a stab of guilt in Finch's chest that he then felt even more guilty for having in the first place.

“No, actually, believe it or not this is the exact opposite of what I wanted to happen here.”

“Well that isn't my fault, is it.” He heard Aerin sit back down behind him.

“No, I'm not blaming you, I just…” Finch closed his eyes. “I have to leave.”

The unfinished final half of his sentence hung between them, unspoken but still well understood. I have to leave, and I'm not going to come back.

A heavy silence found a home in the room for a moment. “Okay, fine. If that's what you want.”

Finch could hear Aerin's disappointment, and it killed him. Because he didn't want to leave, but he had to or else he'd ruin himself. He'd probably lose his friends, his brother, his dignity, almost everything he'd ever cared about. Did he really think that all of that was worth it, just for one person? That was probably what scared him the most: the fact that he knew deep down that the answer was yes. So he had to leave now.

He took a few steps toward the cell door and placed his hand on it, lingering there. “Goodbye, Aerin,” he muttered into the darkness.

“Goodbye, Finch,” the darkness responded.

Finch pulled the cell door open again and stepped back out into the hall, closing it behind him as quietly as he could. He was sure the guards were still at their posts, and now wasn't the time to be found. He locked it tightly again, and returned the key ring to the still unconscious guard on the ground, who he was sure would wake up very soon. It was time for him to go. He spared one last glance at the cell door before he departed again.

He made quick work of getting back up to his room, especially now that he knew what would be in his path. Shutting the door behind him was a bit comforting, more than he'd expected it to be at least. He supposed he'd grown sort of used to being there. Not to mention that now he was alone, which meant he had a chance to work through all of this before anyone else saw him.

He hadn't stopped feeling guilty, even after he'd gotten back into bed. He didn't intend to tell his friends, but he couldn't help thinking about how disappointed they'd be if they knew. Especially Nia, who had advised that he go in the first place. And she'd inevitably end up visiting Aerin again, wouldn’t she? Would she be able to tell something had happened? All of the uncertainty gave him a headache. He was exhausted. He didn't know how he could possibly be expected to cope with the seemingly constant stressors being thrown his way, but he was still going to try.

Right now, though, he just needed some sleep. He needed to forget about Aerin, and Nia, and everyone else. He wished he didn't have to, and that everything was easy, but it wasn't. Nothing had been even remotely easy since Kade had gotten trapped in the Shadow Realm, and now things would probably never be that simple again, no matter how much he begged the Gods for respite. His choices were either to keep moving forward, or change his name and run off to live in the mountains. He just had to keep being resilient. Either way, though, he'd be much more capable in the morning. He had to be. Whether he wanted to or not.

[myarmadaisgrowing]

Ooooh boy Blades 2 Chapter 2 was a chapter, that's for sure

First impressions:

I love Kade

I love Threep

I love Loola

I love everyone except Aerin

We agreed to the quest WAY too quickly, there's DEFINITELY more info that the Watcher isn't telling us

Not sure if he's going to be a bad guy or not, but he's definitely over-simplifying it all

TYRIL REUNION?????? I WAS EXPECTING MAL AND NIA SINCE THEY PROBABLY STAYED IN WHITETOWER (I'm DEFINITELY not complaining even if I'm only romancing Imtura, I love the overdramatic ride-or-die blue boy)

Reunion dialogue and chapter plotline was excellent BUT I think I would have felt more satisfied if Kade and Tyril (and maybe the nespers) had worn their sad or smiling faces the whole time, the flat expressions just made the dialogue feel a bit ungenuine for me

It would have been really sweet if Tyril had struggled to focus on fighting the monster and kept on staring at MC just to make sure he wasn't imagining it or something

Someone tell me — was the bedsheet the right choice??? I'm out of keys so I can't replay the chapter yet, and I chose the candelabra since my immediate thought was 'what the hell would a bedsheet do against a murderous flying monster??????' but then I set the rug on fire soooo 🤷‍♀️ They did NOT say it was actually IN FLAME

IMTURA MY LOVE DON'T DRINK YOURSELF TO DEATH, COME BACK TO ME

As for the Choices Book Club questions for this week...

Nay, I did not, my first playthrough tactic is 'fill out survival then whatever's in the middle then combat' and it did me pretty well in the first book before I knew the optimum choices, so I'm going to stick with it this book as well

Eh, not really? I saw a post which I have since lost about all of the LIs cutting their hair in an orcish ritual for grief or something like that which I LOVE the idea of (if anyone knows what it is, hit me up, the app crashed before I could reblog it)

I rated it ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️, purely down to the flat expressions, but it definitely would have been ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ if Kade and Tyril had looked more emotionally impacted the whole time

I did capture Aerin in B1! I've never really cared much about Aerin, his capture was more of a 'I don't want him fighting against me if I don't have to have him fight against me' kind of thing, but I did choose the 'maybe I'll visit you' option just in case the seduction is needed to unlock a choice again

Already covered!

Hmmmm. I'm not entirely sure. On one hand, I trust Nia and she seems to be running the Temple well, or at least far better than it was being run before, buuut I'm getting major 'Aziraphale and Heaven' vibes tbh. The Good Omens 2 trauma is real.

I didn't quite unlock a skill, but I think I'm only five or so points away? Whenever I unlock it, it's going to be the third Survival choice—I have Realmwalking and Shadowsight already, but I have no clue what the last one is

Good questions! I'm looking forwards to doing next week's set!

[outofangband]

Tagged by @slightnettles to share part of a WIP (like three weeks ago I’m sorry :(

I think I am at least caught up on WIP tag games now!

I decided to share from a couple to make up for the delay! Plus a bit of a ramble about horror which I apologize for

The theme for today are “fics and scenes I rewrite again and again”

Whatever explanation Aerin had been expecting, it was not this. The weight of these words she feels as a coiling unease. Despite their proximity to the hearth she finds herself cold, pulling her worn cloak more tightly around herself. For warmth, but also to fend off the sudden and familiar feeling of exposure. She understands acutely what this play is, what Brodda expects her to do in response.

“Is this truly believed by all?” Aerin asks with the knowledge that it does not truly matter. There is something wrong in her voice, or perhaps in her own ability to hear it.

The other shrugs wearily.

“I doubt it,” he says, “But none will gainsay him let alone where he might hear.”

Note: this scene has been SO difficult for me to write. It’s undergone like three rewrites over months and it’s still just very shaky :(. The background is basically that Aerin, who is already not in a great place for like, obvious reasons, has gotten extraordinarily bad news about two days before. She’s been trying to process this when she gets further information about the previous news that complicates things further. @nelyoslegalteam you know the premise so you might be able to guess what news Aerin got :)s

Second note: I am still working on the mind games and Leonine contract prompts for Aerin, estimated to be finished in two weeks to three years

…

From a horror fic of Maedhros in Angband

When he lay on the cracked ground, agony coursing through him, Maitimo might wonder if they were merely the creation of his own mind, somehow thinking that these further tricks of light and darkness would amuse, distract him as he lay exhausted. Maybe they lived in the minds of all here. The place was foul enough to cause such visions in the purest of souls. Maitimo knew he was far from that.

But there were creatures at home in the dark of the Iron Hell, ones that could move through spaces orcs could not. He had seen shadows take form here. Sometimes at the obvious bidding of another.

Why it was that even darkness crept to life here, Maitimo could not say. He knew not if these might be truly sentient beings, crafted and released by the dark Vala himself, or if they were merely drawn to the place, carried by the denizens who swarmed to the Moringotto like the creatures that favored the volcanic landscape? 

Note: too heavy handed here I think. I really really love horror but I’m not very good at writing it.

I am working on a few horror projects about Morwen including a couple from the point of view of well, not particularly reliable sources, that have been really fun to play around with. I am just continually obsessed with how visceral of a description we get of Brodda’s fear of Morwen when the scene is imbued with the threat of horrific violence against her and her child. Anyways I will move to the next WIP so I don’t ramble about this forever especially because I already have so many posts on that specifically

…

“You will keep your distance, Witchwife, or you will suffer far worse than what has befallen Lysant.” Morwen says nothing to this. Her expression is distinctly cold, head tilted as she considered him. The man’s horse paws nervously at the ground and Sador sees his hand go to his sword. Only briefly but it is enough that he wishes more ardently than before that he had not lost his prowess with a blade. The only one he keeps now is the one that had been Túrin’s, tucked into his satchel. It had mended the traps they had set well enough but it would serve little use here, if there should be need.

Note: sigh, another scene I cannot get write though I have just been feeling not great about my writing in general lately so that doesn’t help

[theworldisquietheretooquiet]

Aerin and Morwen and Húrin and Maedhros for the character game

-@outofangband

I adore her. Her story really stuck with me when I first read CoH for how realistic it is for women during an occupation like that of Dor-lómin.

I like that Túrin isn't really presented as her rescuer. She's probably very glad on an emotional level to see Brodda dead but she is very clear it was reckless and that Túrin helped seal her fate. Her setting alight the house is a really powerful image of rage, and revengeful destruction. The quote "and patience will break at the last" symbolises to me this as a last act of anger against those who have oppressed her for so long.

She's my Desolation coded girl - full of destroyed potential and hopeless fire.

One of my all time favourite Silm characters!! Ahh I love her. A lot of her life post Nirnaeth is slow suffering on the knife edge of death. I think so much about how traumatising it is to live for years knowing your death could come at any time but not being sure when or how. And the contrast with the Bragollach which suddenly destroyed her home and a lot of her family and friends...

She's 100% autistic and definitely struggled with having to learn the different social customs and norms of the Hadorians and then the Doriathrim.

Also when Túrin asks her "how will you find me, lost in the wild?" !!! The way it echoes what happens to her 😭

He's the best. His relationship with the Nolofinweans is so interesting. Like he's been to Gondolin! And then he's Fingon’s friend. There's so many possibilities there!

The words he speaks to Morgoth are badass.

His relationship with each of his children makes me insane. His visceral grief at Lalaith's death, how understanding he is to Túrin, the fact he and Nienor, who he has never met but is said to be so similar to him in personality and appearance, die the same way...

He does obviously do a few things wrong, and I haven't actually read the Wanderings, but I do fall on the side of he was very traumatised and Morgoth's influence, which is that of a Valar, is going to be incredibly hard to shake off.

He is everyone's blorbo for good reason. I love that one of the main generals and rulers of the first age is someone who experienced long term captivity and torture and is disabled because of it. Regardless of his eventual moral fall, it's really cool he is such a strong, strategic but traumatised character.

He is so full of parallels I'm thinking about constantly. Twice he is present for an evil event but tries to take some moral stance against it, which fails to actually change the awfulness. He refuses to burn the ships, and they still get burnt, he tries to save Elurín & Elur��d, and he fails. It's like he both can't help himself from ending up in the middle of the act, but he also can't help himself from trying to do something to stop it, always when it is too late.

[welcomingdisaster]

did I already ask Morwen and Maedhros for the ask game? if so I am so sorry. if not them!

-@outofangband

@outofangband you didn't! :) here they are

Morwen:

one aspect about them i love

her vibes! the fact that she apparently intimidates servants of morgoth! the witchiness of it all!

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

hmm i'm not sure if i've got one for this! her fandom is so small that everyone who writes her seems to know her better than I do.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

for some reason i always picture her as having a big herb garden/using a lot of dried herbs. she also reads to me as superstitious.

one character i love seeing them interact with

turin! they seem like they really get each other. also, thanks to you, aerin.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

hmm i want her to hang out with beleg. i think they'd have a good time. also i want her to meet fingon.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

hmm... i feel like she saw a lot of herself in turin and part of the reason she sent him away was knowing that he would be treated similarly to how she was.

and Maedhros:

one aspect about them i love

White fire in his eyes as one who returns from the dead!! AHHHHHH. Love this vibe so much I'm obsessed with it.

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

I think a lot of fandom portrayals tend to write his PTSD as very quiet/sad/anxious and understate his canon tendencies towards anger and violence. I really wish more people were interested in exploring the "sharper" aspects of his PTSD, since canonically we see quite a lot of that. And I think it's a more interesting internal struggle for him -- lashing out at people he loves, despite not wanting to, struggling to keep his cool, etc.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

I personally don't think he wore a prosthetic all that often! Probably only in diplomatic settings. I think he got very good at using the stump of his wrist to hold/steady/manipulate objects. I also think he did use it to be affectionate with people -- it is the natural one for someone to hold, after all.

one character i love seeing them interact with

Oh man so many! Very basic answers are Maglor and Fingon, which seems to be all I've been writing lately lol.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

Gil-galad! Especially in contexts where Gil is not closely related to him or his favorite people (so, Gil as Finrod's or Orodreth's son). I think they work well as foils for one another -- both doomed leaders trying to herd cats in very unstable times.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

I think he and Maglor often share the same bed in the later days, which is definitely somewhat strange for brothers. Both very paranoid about losing each other, both are very prone to nightmares, and both of them sleep fully dressed just in case. Also I think he's a very clunky dancer.

[bedtimegiraffe]

Aerin Diamond Scene Rewrite Fic

Very glad Kade pushes your character on their trauma from being kidnapped. However, I would love for a LI to comfort your character about the fact that they keep almost dying. (Shoutout to Imtura for briefly comforting MC about the upcoming life-or-death battle, but I want more.) Relationships are a 2-way street! So here’s a little rewrite of the beginning of Aerin’s pre-battle diamond scene. Enjoy!

To accompany this, I recommend the slow and sweet “You Matter to Me” from the musical Waitress. “Come out of hiding, I'm right here beside you. And I'll stay there as long as you'll let me.”

(I don't think there are any warnings to be given other than discussion of possible death.)

It takes some looking, but you eventually find Aerin in a room on one of the ships, pacing with such focus that he doesn’t notice you as you enter. It’s kind of cute how intensely he’s thinking. You speak up, hoping you don’t startle him too badly. “How did you end up here of all places?”

Aerin’s head suddenly turns in your direction, eyes wide. “Oh! I… I wasn’t expecting you.” His surprised expression disappears almost at once, replaced by one of relief. “Imtura offered me this cabin, as a matter of fact.”

“Really?”

“I thought she was going to punch me. But she said that if I was brave enough to come back, I deserved a good place to sleep.” Aerin grins at you sarcastically. “I suppose tripping is a form of affection.”

His brief smile fades as he waves you into the cabin, then resumes his pacing.

You bite the inside of your lip. He looks so nervous. You can hardly blame him for that. “Are you having second thoughts about coming back? Because you… you don’t have to stay.”

Aerin stops moving, turning to give you a searching look. “You would let me leave so easily, then? Even on the eve of battle?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you again. Happy you’re here to help. But… things have been exceptionally dangerous since you left. I-” You take a shaky breath in. “I almost died. More than once. In those moments, I really wanted to see you again. But at the same time, I was relieved you were somewhere safer. And now that you’re here, I’m worried you’ll…” The thought hurts to even acknowledge.

Aerin’s eyes tighten with concern, though he covers it passably well. “Telling me you’ve been in incredible danger is hardly the way to get me to leave. And I did not come all this way to back out now.”

You suddenly feel desperate as the fear you’ve struggled to keep at bay forces itself to the front of your mind. “…Aren’t you scared?”

Aerin looks at you for a long moment, his gaze soft. “I’m not. Honestly, I expected to be frightened out of my wits. But for the first time, I actually feel prepared for battle. I trained all throughout my youth, but I never had a good cause to put it to. Just…” He frowns, looking toward the floor. “Baldur’s hunting misadventures. And then my misadventures.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t…” You close your eyes, trying to collect your thoughts. When you open them, Aerin is right in front of you. Close enough to touch. “Nia died last time. The Blade brought her back, but it was an absolute miracle. I don’t know that we’ll get another one of those. I never used to worry about any of us like this, but we keep getting so close to everything just being over and I can’t…” You choke back a sob. As you struggle vainly to hold back a flood of tears, Aerin hesitantly puts his arms around you, slowly pulling you into a warm embrace. You cling to him tightly as you cry, like he’s the only real thing in the world. Your next words come out in a frantic rush. “I can’t lose you again. Any of you. I can’t be all alone again.”

Aerin doesn’t respond for a moment, just cradling your shaky frame and unconsciously running his thumb in a soothing path along your back. “I wish I could tell you what will happen tomorrow. But I don’t know. There is a possibility this will be our last night alive.” It’s a terrible thing to hear, but… a relief for someone else to finally acknowledge it. “But you won’t be alone. All of your incredibly capable and persistent friends will be with you. I will be with you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

It does help to be reminded that you’re not in this alone. None of you are.

You focus on breathing deeply until you’re calm enough to pull back and look at Aerin again. “How are you so relaxed about the fact that we could all die tomorrow?”

His face melts into a smile, fond and affectionate. “Because I’m fighting for our city and our people. For you.” He brings a hand to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his suddenly serious gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You smile at that, wiping the last of the tears from your eyes. “Thank you. For being honest with me about…” You take a deep breath. “What might happen tomorrow. And for standing by me.”

“Always.” Aerin gazes deeply into your eyes and, for just a moment, you forget that there exists a world outside this room. Then he blinks, a faint blush rising in his cheeks, and he pulls away. He gestures for you to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

Once you’re seated, Aerin sits next to you, close enough that your arms can’t help but brush. “I suppose I still owe you an explanation for running off the way I did…”

[queen-scribbles]

(kicks door down) commentary meme for the opening of ch5 of TLBT? I’m not not sure how long 500 words is at a glance but at least through the scrying part? -emeraldgreaves

If you mean the whole beginning of ch 5 up through the scry, it's actually 877 words, but who cares, we'll do it anyway, bc you're one of my foremost enablers(especially for tLBT) and I can't really find a good place to cut part of it so it's 500 or fewer. xD Also, excellent choice. :3

----

After spending a few more minutes annoyed at her inability to talk to Red about the gala, Xaeryn managed to wrench her thoughts back to the case. There was still daylight, she had time to investigate the alleyway following up on what Ferrin had said. Just in case she wound up pushing toward evening, however, she opted to drive rather than walk. There’d been a few news articles recently about an uptick in pickpockets, and it wouldn’t do to make anyone worry.

There was, as luck would have it, a spot not far from the mouth of the alley, and she deftly maneuvered her car into the space between two much newer-model automobiles. Their gleaming black finish made hers look positively dingy by comparison but also brought to mind her tail from the last visit to the museum. Neither, however, had accents of any color, and she was equal parts disappointed and reassured as she headed for the alley.

Xaeryn's been a fun challenge to write as the main/only POV bc she's more closed off, formal, and straightforward, less the charming, friendly, lightly sarcastic banter type of character I usually gravitate towards. She eases up a bit around Red bc he rubs off on her whenever they're together(also bc she's stuck on him). She's normally not shy about making her wants/needs/requirements etc known--see her convo with Riel in ch 1, or any of the times she talks to Aerin--and is usually very good at separating the personal and professional, so for her to get tongue-tied and chicken out of asking for something absolutely vital to her investigation for personal reasons has her v irritated at herself. She's also v good at focusing on the task at hand, or at least pushing on through potential distractions. Hence the being annoyed at herself only lasting a few minutes before plowing on with the case. And I'm p sure we all know she really means when she thinks she doesn't want anyone Red to worry. :3 I had to put that in there, the lil exaggerated snipe-y mental eyeroll that's also 100% for real. She doesn't want him to worry. Mostly bc then he'll fuss, which is almost as annoying as it is endearing.

She started at the entrance and worked in toward the gates, figuring she could continue down the other side if she came up empty. Part of her was cynical about finding anything so long after the fact, but the stubborn part--frustrated by her slow progress on this case--refused to give up without confirming. It didn’t look like this alley was cleaned all that often, maybe there was something useful. 

It's very fun having a character who's equal parts stubborn and cynical. A lot of "this has a 99% chance of being useless, but my other option is giving up SO I'm doing it anyway."

Besides, it was a distraction from the other thing she needed to find--the nerve to ask Red about the gala. It was much more elusive quarry than anything case related.

Ngl, I'm very proud of this pair of sentences.

What was so hard about asking him?

YOU KNOW, XAERYN SHRIKE. YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHY.

I don’t want to inconvenience him when he’s already doing so much for me.

You know he’d be happy to help, floated through her mind and only made matters worse.

The fun part about this is she genuinely doesn't want to inconvenience him. He's done a lot for her already and she doesn't want to take him from his "real job" to help her. And is also using it as an excuse. Both things are true!

She also knows he'd drop literally everything in a heartbeat to help her just for the asking(and she would for him).

Disrupting his schedule to travel all the way to Haven is a little different than turning him loose on a research project, she countered, nudging aside a tattered tarp with her shoe. Nothing.

He just told you he doesn’t have as much going in right now. And both of you would drop everything to help the other and you know it.  

Alright, fine, I don’t trust myself. The fact sat solid in her chest as soon as she admitted it, brusquely poking around a stack of discarded pallets. I’m afraid if I ask him to do this, even if it is genuinely as a friend, I won’t be able to hide the way I feel under those circumstances.

Her mask is only so good, after all. And she's been hiding this a long, long time. It's had plenty of opportunity to grow.

It was a tricky thing, carrying a torch for your best friend. And delicacy had never been a strength of hers. She was all honesty and no varnish, too blunt-

Forthright, Red’s voice corrected gently in her head.

--too forthright to be good at playing games and she dreaded what might happen if Red picked up on something bothering her.

I love "all honesty, no varnish" as a description for Ryn, another thing I'm v proud of. I love her hearing Red's voice in her head, correcting her to be kinder about herself while also being honest about what she sees as a shortcoming.

Well, your options are ask him or not go, so if you want to make progress on this case you better get ahold of yourself. You can do this. You are a professional, aren’t you? 

Her foot hit something that skittered away with a clattery rasp, breaking through her internal debate. A keen glance after the object revealed only a rusting crowbar, and Xaeryn gave a soft growl of disappointment. Not far from the crowbar, however, something silver and promising glinted from a jumble of discarded paint cans and crate frames half-stacked into a shelter. She shifted the debris enough to reach and found herself holding a fine black leather sheath, dagger-sized, silver tipped and accented. A silver insignia at the top, opposite the beltloop, bore an unfamiliar crest--what looked like crossed lightning bolts or vines surmounted with a sword, or maybe a lance. It was difficult to tell at that scale.

I can't make it too easy on her, or the payoff's no fun :D (Also, I wanted her to go to the library for the Ysa cameo)

She balanced the sheath on a nearby broken crate, pulled out her notebook and a pencil and took a rubbing of the crest. A quick shorthand annotation where she’d found it, and then she started to stash it all in her handbag. It would be a bit of a tight fit, but better than carrying her find where it would raise eyebrows.

Very professional, this gal. Immediately makes a copy of potential evidence, and a note where she found it, takes steps to not draw attention.

Xaeryn paused just before slipping the sheath in her bag. She studied it again, catching her lower lip between her teeth. What if... A quick glance at the wall behind her to ensure it was relatively clean and she leaned against the stone while focusing hard on the small sheath. There might, if this belonged to the green-haired man, be enough trace of the owner left to Scry a clue.

The world fell away in a watery grey roil, clarifying into a scene almost as disorienting as the shift itself. The viewing angle was odd, a blur of motion off-center drawing her attention. It shifted into focus, resolving into a pair of figures mid-scuffle. One was a green-haired man, clothes decent but nondescript aside from currently being mussed by the fight, the other she couldn’t make out beyond a wild beard and the impression of ragged clothes. A street bum maybe? They tussled, each getting in a few good licks, there was a gleam of metal in their grappled hands, then one’s foot caught the sheath, sending it spinning toward its resting place and jolting Xaeryn out of the vision.

By this point in the planning/outlining process, I had solidified Darius and Briony's actual role in the plot(Ryn was actually supposed to talk to them in the museum, when she follows Briony during the gala, but then ch 6 ran away from me BIG TIME and I had to bump it lol), but this being a detective story, I had to keep the suspense up a little longer and be a little vague about whether Mr. Green Hair is one of the bad guys or just Sus™. Scries are fun to write, bc it's a way to give her a little bit of bonus information, especially when it's bonus info with no witnesses she could've talked to. When they work. And I have a reason for the ones that don't. :3

[hotdsstuff]

Hey! Before you start, a few info about me!

You can call me Aerin

My pronouns are she/her

For now I only write for House of the Dragon, but I might start writing for other fandoms if you'd like

I don't have any guidelines yet, so you can request anything you want, but please understand that if I'm unconfortable with what you asked I won't write it, but I'll explain why.

Onto the fanfiction we go

Blood and Ashes

Hi guys! So I have a fanfiction on Wattpad. No, wait, I have more than one, but this is, for now, the only one that I will share here.

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Reader: Fem!reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Love Interest: Daemon Targaryen

Warnings: none (yet)

Chapter 1: Prologue

' 𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 76 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 28𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗝𝗮𝗲𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘀'𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗻.

It was mid-August, it was the last days of summer and the Maesters had already predicted a long, hard winter.

Other than that, the king was proud of his reign. He had a peaceful people and a very prosperous kingdom, even if it was still his first years of reign, but that doesn't matter to the story, does it?

Well, where was I going? Ah yes, this king, Jaehaerys, was very curious. He was getting old and he knew it. Not necessarily 80 years old, no, but you know, every day he felt more tired, even though he was very young, he felt deep down that something was going to happen, but he tried to concentrate on what was good, and that was enough.

Ahead, Jaehaerys enjoyed knowing, studying, and exploring the past. He still wanted to explore one last thing, before leaving this world. That "thing" was: Valyria.

Yes, yes, Jaehaerys knew of the rumors of Valyria since the Doom: No one returned from there, and now the ruined island was inhabited by men with Greyscale, a disease that turned them to stone.

But what can you do with a mad old man's desires.... There have been worse, haven't they?

He wanted to try. And nothing and no one would stop him.

So, so it was. A few weeks later, Jaehaerys called a meeting with one of his sons, Baelon. Until now he had remained on Dragonstone, taking care of his sister-wife, who was pregnant with his firstborn.

Baelon didn't want to leave his wife alone. Alyssa was more than a wife, she was a sister, quite literally. Continuing. Also, Alyssa was in the 4th moon of her pregnancy, which meant that in just 5 moons, he would meet his son, or daughter.

But, it was a royal order, Baelon couldn't just disobey the king, especially when the king was also his father, could he?

So, at the end of the month, Baelon took leave of his wife and left, with a promise to return before the birth, and departed Dragonstone.

He took 50 men with him, so that he would be protected. Not that he didn't know how to protect himself, of course not, he knew how to take care of himself pretty well actually. Just him and his sword.

Now this sword, as legend has it, was older than Blackfire and Darksister, who had belonged to Aegon I and Visenya. No... Legend has it that that sword once belonged to the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, forged from pure Valyrian Steel and set with a large ruby ​​on the hilt. It's been said that the sword had no name before it was given to Baelon, which I don't believe, but...what I believe or not, doesn't matter, does it?

As I was saying, the sword had no name so Baelon named it Dracarys.

And so it was, in late August and early September Baelon left Dragonstone for Valyria.

Exactly how long Baelon took to reach Valyria is unknown, what we do know is when, how and with whom he returned.

Well, well, one question at a time.

When? Ah well, it is not known for sure, but it is estimated that he arrived in early November. Yes, it had taken him 4 months to come back. But he came back.

How? No one really knows how Baelon came back, because at the time we are talking, in late October and early November, as the Maesters had predicted, winter was very harsh on the people of Westeros, with icy winds and furious storms. Even Dorne felt the icy embrace of some snow, and that's saying a lot.

Now with whom? That's my favorite question personally.

Baelon returned alone. His ship was just an inch away from falling apart but Baelon didn't have a scratch.

The only thing Baelon brought with him from Valyria intact was a book.

Ah yes, the old book.

But what was so special about this book? You may be wondering, don't worry, I'll explain right away.

This book was a book about: Blood Magic

This magic, which had not been seen since the Doom of Valyria. Lost among the rocks, the fire, the embers and ash that were left of Valyria.

When he arrived, Baelon headed straight for Dragonstone, even before he went to King's Landing. At that moment, his sister-wife and son or daughter were more important than anything else.

As soon as he set foot in his quarters, Baelon found Alyssa sitting by the window, watching the snow and wind. When she looked at him, the first thing she noticed was the huge, dusty book in her hands.

Alyssa got up with difficulty, after all 8 gestation moons shouldn't be easy, and she greeted her brother-husband, then immediately asked him if she could analyze the book.

Baelon, knowing his sister's insatiable curiosity, let her keep the book. One way or another, knowing his sister, he knew she would eventually read it so he might as well do it the easy way. We should never piss off a woman, right? Especially if she is pregnant.

That kept her busy for the rest of the month. Busy that Baelon began to worry about his sister's condition. There were days when she didn't even leave her room and sometimes she "forgot" to eat, she said. It was as if she was always in a trance.

Baelon ignored his instinct for a month, but now December had arrived, the month the Maesters had predicted for the child's birth. Baelon tried to distract her attention from the book and tried to persuade her to get into bed, but she declined, not so politely.

Baelon was far away. For your understanding, Baelon thought he was delirious and hearing voices. But not. It was all real. At night, he could hear Alyssa's voice reciting the same promises in the book, in a whisper, as if she didn't anyone to hear her. And then he saw the impossible.

He'd stayed up longer, to make sure he was right. So when his sister started to whisper, he looked at her and the Fire, it increased to what she said, as if it liked what she was saying.

So this one was decided.

In the middle of the night, Baelon burned the book as he should have burned it from the moment he had found it.

But...what was done, was done. And there was no way to undo it.

The next day, Baelon was surprised when Alyssa didn't ask him about the book. Now, everything felt like a dream. Baelon then decided to take her to King's Landing and ask his mother, Queen Alysane.

Baelon rode Vhagar and Alyssa rode Meleys. Meleys was a dragon experienced in battle, and being a female she could sort of feel what Alyssa was going through, so she flew very carefully. But you couldn't be too careful when the winds pull you and push you back and forth. Meleys did her best and Alyssa arrived in King's Landing safe and sound.

Days after arrival Alyssa finally went into labor on the coldest day of the year. Hours and hours passed until the child was born. And the moment the bells of King's Landing rang, all the dragons roared as one.

There are Maesters who say they could even hear the roars of the Cannibal, Sheep Stealer, Grey Ghost, wild Dragons who lived in the mountains of Dragonstone and King's Landing.

But most surprising was the roar following Balerion's, yes, even the Black Dread roared for her, but right now the focus is not on him. The roar that followed was terrifying, it says it deafened the cattle for at least a week.

And that wasn't all that little queen had to show. Then the unthinkable happened. Those were winter times but the girl was…warm.

And as if by magic at the moment she was born, the maesters looked out the window and saw the sun. Shining over the entire city.

That child had done in a day what the gods had not done in years.

They named her Aerin after a goddess of Old Valyria. The Fireborn.

Aerin grew, each year more beautiful and graceful and, of course, very skilled with the blade.

Her father Baelon had her learning to master the art of using a sword.

Her mother, Alyssa, was tasked with teaching her how to be a lady and behave.

Her grandmother Alyssane taught her the art of persuasion and seduction, something she would put to use in the future.

And her grandfather, Jaehaerys, groomed her to be Queen.

On her 6th nameday she achieved her greatest feat.

The king and his family had gone for a walk in the mountains, at the request of the little princess.

Together with her brothers, Viserys, with 5 name days and Daemon with 1 name day. These stayed with their parents. But Aerin, no...

The princess was as curious as her mother and grandfather. So she ventured into the caves. Until she came to one hidden by ivy and fog at the foot of the mountain.

This cave was huge, enough for Balerion to fit inside, but the princess couldn't know because so far she hadn't been close to the adult dragons. It is true that Aerin was gifted with a Dragon Egg in her crib, like any other Targaryen. But this was a baby dragon.

Alyssa didn't want to deprive her daughter of her knowledge of dragons. But she was afraid, from the moment the dragons had roared when Aerin was born.

But now it didn't have much effect.

The princess was distracted looking at the flowers and didn't see the fiery eyes looking in her direction, attentive to her every move.

The dragon roared in her face, but the moment she smelled her she felt the dragon's blood in the princess's veins and lowered her head.

So, fearless as she was, Aerin rode the Dragon that would later be named Valerian and flew above the clouds.

When Baelon and Alyssa saw Aerin riding a dragon, they were scared mostly because the princess didn't have a saddle.

But when they noticed the dragon's size, they felt proud. This one was bigger than Vhagar and at least the same size as Balerion.

At age 7, she earned her most famous nickname. Aerin Targaryen, Mother of Dragons

Why?

Hmm....because at the age of 7, Aerin had already flown on all dragons. Even the Cannibal she tamed.

And it was on her name day that year that she rode Balerion the Black Dread.

That had been the best gift she had ever received.

She also had various other names given by the people, like The Dragons's Daughter, or The Dragon's Flame.

And so, Aerin Targaryen grew up to be one of the most powerful women in Westeros.

She would forever be remembered as The Mother of Dragons and The Winner of the Dance.