#the world turns OFF when i write solely for my own entertainment

[cockroachparty]

me: writes 6k words for my fanfiction in one sitting.

also me: turns into a puddle of goo when i have to write 500 words for my class discussion post (i wrote 50 words and then closed docs)

[bella-goths-wife]

How reader could manipulate the bowers gang boys

Again, please enjoy my attempts at being deep writer while being sick and sad

I do not intend to romanticise or encourage any of the following warnings, my writing is solely for entertainment and informational purposes. I do not support or condone any and all abuse and I do not believe in any of the various themes I write about.

Henry bowers:

As we've established in previous posts, Henry craves to be taken care of

His mother was the only person who cared about him until his dad scared her off, and now he has no one

His dad couldn't give less of a shit about him, and while he sees the boys as his brothers, he'd never discuss thoughts and feelings with them because he was their leader and he can't seem weak

But you, you were so gentle and kind to those around you

Sure, you looked cold and sometimes you'd act like an arrogant bitch

But he saw how you acted with Beverly, before he made you his

You knew she struggled, so you'd make her an extra lunch and offer her a shoulder to cry on

Something about watching those interactions made Henry's skin crawl with an ugly jealousy which he mistook for anger and disgust

That's why he was so intent on hurting you the day he and the boys followed you after school, so he could take out his frustrations

But then he and the other boys saw you dancing, and he knew you'd be perfect

The way you could manipulate Henry is by really playing into the caregiver role

Make his lunches, write him little notes on them, offer to trim his hair, cook his dinners, offer to do his laundry and take care of his wounds after fights

Really act like you care about Henry, make him believe that you can be relied on

Make Henry believe that you are the one person in the world who cares about him and you'll be in for a world of surprises

As time goes on Henry will reveal more about himself, in his own gruff and verbally abusive fashion

But there will be a gentleness that's unlocked within him, it's minuscule when looking at it through the societal norms but if you view it as someone who has experienced his abuse for months, the change can be unexpected

If you do something wrong, as long as it's only minor (like burning his food slightly or not responding the first time he speaks), he'll turn a blind eye to it for the first time it happens instead of yelling and hurting you

And if he does decide to 'punish' you, he'll clean up your wounds instead of making you work through it and he'll make sure to avoid body parts that are vital to your ballet dancing

He'll also become more affectionate in his own way

He'll hold you at night in a way that used to be rough and only a precaution in case you tried to do something while he slept, but now his hold is less bruising and held more adoration then before

If you want to manipulate Henry, then the best way to do this is to voice your opinion while he holds you

It's really the only time he'd listen, so you'd have to make sure you do it correctly and you don't overuse it because he would eventually catch on

But if you wanted something to change within the group, your best chance is to mention it during this time

For example, if you didn't want to be around Patrick for too long, all you'd have to say to Henry is "Patrick makes me uncomfortable sometimes when he touches me"

And suddenly, your around Patrick by yourself less and less by Henry's command

Another route you could take is to cause conflict within the group, for example

You could say something like "Patrick's been quite demanding lately, he told me not to make you lunch tomorrow and to make it for him instead"

This will plant seeds of doubt in Henry's mind and will cause problems amongst the boys

The only side effect to this manipulation is a very needy, clingy and possessive Henry who feels the need to have you around 24/7 since you take such good care of him

Patrick Hockstetter:

Patrick is a sociopath, it's very clear to see and if he were born ten years later he would be labelled as dangerous to society

So his manipulation would be extremely hard, but everyone has their blindspots

And Patrick's is that he craves sexual attention and validation

Patrick has been sleeping with girls since he was fifteen, and sometimes he thinks it's the only thing that makes other people seem real to him

He's engaged in sexual relations with you, but never with your consent

And while he enjoys the pleasure and control he gains from the interaction, he knows that he would prefer it if you were an active participant who enjoyed the experience with him

A way you could manipulate Patrick is if you started to act enthusiastic to sleep with him

You'd have to force yourself and you'd have to be a good actress, but if you acted enthusiastically about having sex with Patrick and sharing that part of yourself willingly with him it would definitely lower his guard

As I've mentioned before in previous posts, after having any sexual interactions with you he will be kinder to you for a few weeks afterwards

This means that If you wanted to make it so he was being nicer to you then you could initiate sex with him for your own benefit

This would grant you many rewards such as gifts he stole from the mall, defending you against the other boys when they get too rough and he's even able to get you out of some of the punishments the other boys set out for you

Another route you could take Patrick's manipulation is to withdraw from sex completely

For weeks you'd be enthusiastic and initiating sex with Patrick until he does something that makes you upset

Once he does this, you stop acting happy about having sex with him and you stop participating

You can't outright stop having sex with him unfortunately as he will just force you to

But If you withdraw from sex go from someone who was enthusiastic and excited to someone who just lays there and takes it while you dissociate from the situation, it's gonna give Patrick a case of whiplash

He'll try and enjoy the sex even though your withdraw but he just can't anymore, not when he's experienced you at your fullest

So he'll subconsciously start to gain back your attention

This would be an opportunity to try and gain more out of Patrick

Request things that you'd get smacked for before

Ask for things like alone time, cigarettes, friends and they'll all be granted as long as you just have sex with Patrick with the same passion as before

If you want to cause problems with the group through your manipulation of Patrick, start sleeping with one of the other boys with enthusiasm while denying Patrick and you'll have a fist fight in no time

Victor Criss:

Vic is extremely possessive of you

You are his and he is yours, he has stated this to you many times

This possessiveness has always been encouraged by his silent resentment of Henry and the other boys

All of his nice and pretty things were always taken from him

When he was younger, belch would steal his toys and break them

When he was a pre teen, Henry would steal his lunches and snacks from home

And when he was a teenager, Patrick would steal any girl that vic found pretty before sleeping with her and leaving her broken hearted

Vic held so much resent in for those instances, but they formed dark bruises on his heart from the memories

All you have to do is press down on those bruises and reignite the sting he felt from them

You could act very affectionate with him behind closed doors and act like the two of you are just passionate lovers

Be affectionate with him and make him more vulnerable and susceptible to your manipulative behaviour

Once he's comfortable, reinforce his thoughts of how you are his and his only

Make sure he knows that you believe that you are his as well

This will encourage to him to take your requests more seriously and to even grant the very few he can

It also reassures you that he's less likely to punish you if you act like his perfect little toy

•But if you wanted to go down the route of manipulating the boys against each other, then your best bet is to pit him against Henry

Drop into conversations that you wish you could spend more time with him, but Henry just won’t let you

Describe all the horrible things Henry does to you and exaggerate it before adding “if it was just you and me, you’d never do anything like this to me”

All those feelings of resentment that vic repressed for years will boil over

At first it will start off as small arguments but it will quickly develop

If you continuously use these methods of manipulation on vic for months and then try to provoke Henry into acting cruel to you and punishing you in front of vic, then make vic watch the cruelty being inflicted on you and watch his possessive and protective behaviour bubble to the surface

There would be a bloody fight which would end up with one of them dead, and you better pray that it’s Henry who looses

You know what they say

If you want to kill a snake, remove the head

Belch Huggins:

As I’ve said in my other posts, belch is absolutely desperate for your approval

He’s craved it ever since the first time you granted him a compliment

Even if it was more of an observation of a compliment, to him it felt like a goddess had finally given him a purpose

You may think that’s enough to be able to manipulate belch, but unfortunately you weren’t the first person to figure this out

Henry has always been observant over belch, belch is physically stronger and if he were smarter he could probably overtake Henry as the group leader

So Henry definitely noticed how much belch lit up after you praised or complimented him

And he saw this as something that could be a threat

So he decided to use it against you before you figured out a plan

He told belch that in order to gain your approval, he would have to follow Henry’s instructions no matter how cruel or violent they were

Henry reassured him that even if you insulted belch or yelled at him for following Henry’s instructions, but it was all for your own good

And eventually you’d thank belch for helping you figure out what you wanted

At least that’s what Henry told him

So no matter how guilty belch may feel, Henry has manipulated him so much that he truly does believe the abuse is gonna help you

But one way you could manipulate belch is through similar methods as vic or Henry

Overpower him with your affection and compliments

Make him feel loved and wanted with your words and actions

But only do this obviously in private with him

Only give him your affections and approval subtly

Think about secret lovers affection, like touching pinkies with your hands spread out or his hand on your knee under the table

These actions will make his as giddy as a teenager in love

He truly will believe that you and him are in love

While you give him the affection and approval that he craves, make small requests like

“I really wish I could smoke again, do you think you could give me one of your cigarettes”

Now there is a small chance that he’ll allow it if he’s blissed out on your touch, but if he denies you then immediately stop all the affection that your giving him and push him away

This will cause him to backpedal and give in to your request as long as you continue to touch him

This only works for minor requests though, for major requests you’ll need to scare him

For example, if you wanted some time to spend with Beverly then you’d have to ask him and when he Denies you then simply threaten him with harming yourself or not eating

This will send his protective side into overdrive and you can have this man on his knees begging for forgiveness if you play your cards right

A way to manipulate him against the rest of the group is to prove yourself as the only person who cares about him and loves him before planting the seeds of doubt in his mind

Drop little comments like “Patrick was wrong about you, your not stupid” or “vic says your too violent, but I don’t think that’s true”

He’ll start to second guess his friends and he’ll start to come to you more with his problems

But the best move to make is to make it so after all those months of manipulating belch against the rest of his friends, have him watch as Henry is unnecessarily cruel to you

And then go crying into belchs arms in private and demand to know why he didn’t help you or defend you

Drop in a “I thought you loved me” and you’ll have undone all of Henry’s manipulation in seconds

You could convince belch to take you away from the rest of the boys and to run away with you so you could be together forever

Hopefully you’ll be able to sneak away from belch at some point because he now trusts you

And even if you don’t, being stuck with belch is the lesser of two evils

[raribella]

Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank

summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end

contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.

word count: 2,7k

author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”

the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.

But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.

To his bullshit.

Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.

You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.

Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.

“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”

Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.

“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“

As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.

You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.

You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.

You were bottled up to the brim.

It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.

"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”

“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-

“Y/n, listen to me!”

You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.

“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”

it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.

You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.

“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”

At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.

“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“

“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”

You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.

“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”

Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.

“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.

“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”

JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.

“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“

You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.

“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“

As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“

“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.

“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”

As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.

“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”

And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.

“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.

“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.

“First thing in the morning.” You answered.

[thatbadadvice]

Help! My Girlfriend Bought Me A Million Dollar House And Raised My Kids And All I Got Was This Million Dollar House And Someone To Raise My Kids, When Is It Finally Going To Be My Turn To Get A Break??????

Pay Dirt, Slate, 17 April 2023:

Dear Pay Dirt, My longterm girlfriend and I disagree about whether a $30,000 inheritance left to her by her great-aunt should be “her” money or “our” money. She wants to spend a large part (almost a third!) of it on expensive supplies for her hobby. I think that we should save most of it and use some of it on a vacation since we both find traveling extremely romantic. My argument is: 1) I don’t care about her hobby, but we’ll both enjoy a trip abroad; 2) we’ve lived on only my (admittedly low, since it’s academia) income for over a decade, so according to her own rule about entitlement to “her” windfall, shouldn’t she technically have been entitled to none of my wages all these years? Her argument is: 1) she had to put aside her hobby for many years to raise our children (it’s not a safe art form for young kids to be around) and yearns to return to it; 2) she paid entirely in cash for our $950k house at the beginning of our partnership (though my income pays the property taxes and maintenance costs), therefore she alleges that we haven’t actually been living on solely my income because I’ve been saving on rent all these years. I feel resentful of the double standard about control over finances and hurt that she would rather prioritize her own joy over our shared joy. She feels impatient to reconnect with her hobby and hurt that her contributions to our lifestyle are unseen. How do we reconcile our different viewpoints? How should the money be allocated? Is there something that we’re missing? —I’m About to Glass(Blow) a Fuse

Dear About to (Glass)Blow a Fuse,

I hope you don't mind that I corrected your very clever parenthetical sign-off! You're understandably dealing with a lot of hurt right now at the hands of the cruel and self-absorbed girlfriend who bought you a million-dollar home and abandoned her beloved hobby to raise your children, so I totally get why a brilliant, overworked, and under-appreciated academic genius such as yourself would fuck up something so incredibly simple and obvious, you poor thing. Really speaks to the distress you're in as the victim of this woman's sordid scheme to steal every ounce of joy from your life by experiencing some of her own after decades of managing your household for you for free.

Great relationships are built on the exactly equal division of all resources, and it sounds like your girlfriend has trouble grasping this because she seems to believe that the home you live in and the time she has invested raising your children for you have value, when of course they do not. The only thing that has value in this world is cash money, which is why we call it money. If parenting were valuable, you'd be able to trade it on the stock market! And what was your girlfriend going to do, not live in a house? These are things she'd have done with her life anyway, and they don't get to count toward her contribution to the household just because she did them for and with you instead of expressly and specifically pursuing her art. Whereas who knows what you could have done with your life if you hadn't been locked into a free house and a partner dedicating herself full-time to keeping your children alive for you?

Now, after all these years of being nothing but a worthless freeloader whom you support out of the generous goodness of your kind heart, your girlfriend has finally acquired something of value, and she wants to keep an entire third of it for herself? To do something that doesn't directly benefit, enrich, or entertain you personally? That's not equity, and it's certainly no way to repay you for periodically writing checks to the plumber. Isn't it about time you finally got something out of all of this for your trouble?

What benefit is there for you in having a partner who enjoys the sweet satisfaction of creative fulfillment after years of yearning to express herself? What kind of weirdo wants their girlfriend to have her own interests? And what kind of ungrateful hussy doesn't jump to spend thousands of her own money on a romantic vacation with someone who actively resents even entertaining the possibility of the idea of her doing something that makes her artistic spirit sing?

The balance sheet of this relationship is indeed all out of whack, and it's too bad that it's taken this long for your girlfriend to see just how uneven your bargain has been. If we're going to get technical about what has "value" in a relationship — and it does seem like your girlfriend is an inveterate bean-counter in the worst way around this stuff — the best way to reconcile your mutual account, as it were, is to present your girlfriend with an itemized bill for all the services you have provided her over the years, such as allowing her to buy you a home, permitting her to forego a wage-earning career, and gifting her with the opportunity to abandon her favorite hobby. That should pretty swiftly put everything you're "missing" in stark relief, and solve the question of how she should allocate her money in the future.

[gabessquishytum]

I wanna riff off the Ancient Rome ask with my own, but instead of Rome it's Greek babey!!!!

So the old Byzantine Emperors had a bodyguard group called the Varangian guard. They were foreigners to the Empire and loyal only to the Emperor.

Hob is one such guard. He was kidnapped at an early age when his village was attacked by Norsemen. Since then he's fought his way around Europe before being invited into the guard. He's not big on the whole Christianity thing, but he can at least enjoy serving such a pretty Emperor.

On the flip side, Dream is miserable. As Emperor, his head is constantly in peril of being put on the pike. He's got to keep his neighbors from spilling into his territory, he's got to keep trade lines to the east open for business, even the church threatens to break apart and there will be riots in the streets. There already have been when two factions of chariot fans joined forces and nearly burned down Constantinople.

Fortunately, he has his guard around him. Men who can't and won't be bought off or forced into killing him due to the machinations of the other noble houses or even his own siblings. Hob is one of the few he trusts absolutely with his life.

Hob accompanies him to church, where even he is not permitted a weapon. Hob watches over him when he visits the bathhouse and is the only one allowed in the room when he bares his Imperial person so to speak. He even is the sole guard positioned inside the royal bedchamber to watch over the king as he sleeps. He does his job well enough and speaks so little to the various other nobles and Imperial family members that there is little thought of him. He just does his job really well.

What they don't know is Hob has grown to be more than just a body guard. He's Dream's closest companion. He has been given a thorough education in Latin and Greek, how to read and write, he's even sat in on a few philosophy and poetry lessons to better entertain his employer.

In turn, Dream has allowed himself to be less guarded around Hob. They've talked and chatted about loves lost and won. About Dream's idea of the soul being blind until it's had a true, satisfying love. Hob wants to be that love and as such has also been satisfying his Emperor with not only his company but his body as well. It is a sin in the church, but Dream doesn't care. He's an Emperor after all.

This all changed when a Persian assassin snuck into the palace and attempted to kill the Emperor to provoke a war the Byzantines were sure to lose. The assassin was killed by Hob before he could make his attempt on his Emperor's life, but the damage is done. He locks himself in the imperial apartments, refusing to come out except for the high holy days when he spends all his time in church. He refuses to attend senate meetings. He communicates only through Hob. He is completely isolated from the rest of the world.

Some of the noble families titter and gripe about how close a foreign heathen is to the Emperor. How closely he stands to the throne when Dream does make his scant few public appearances. But the Emperor is safe at least. Just so long as Hob can continue to pay the Persians off that is.

🎸

Oh poor Dream, I don't envy him! Except for the fact that he has Hob protecting him 24/7. That is a pretty enviable position to be in!

I really like the emperor/guard situation. The intimacy of that relationship. And there's something especially intimate in the fact that Hob is a foreigner here with absolutely no loyalty or interest elsewhere. It's like he's totally focused on Dream. At this point he doesn't even really have a home to go back to: Dream is his home, his family, his everything. Maybe that's too much for the members of the court and maybe they don't like how close the emperor has become to this common indentured bodyguard. Frankly, Hob doesn't care. He doesnt care about anything in the world, except for Dream.

As much as he hates to see the love of his life so scared and helpless, locked away in his rooms like a precious jewel... it is admittedly a great convenience for Hob to have him in one place all the time. They spend so much of their time in privacy, they become quite used to expressing their love and living a simpler, more domestic life. Sometimes Dream almost seems to forget his troubles when he's lying in his luxurious bed with his head on Hob’s chest.

It isn't only himself he's keeping safe, of course. If Dream isn't in any danger then neither is Hob. Seeing Hob wrestling with that assassin and finally finishing him off was one of the worst moments of Dream’s life. He was terrified that the one man he loves would be killed, all for his sake.

Hob is safe in the imperial apartments with Dream. No assassins will piece their iron doors. Hob may be paying the Persians off, but Dream is paying for Hob’s safety too. And it's worth it. Every moment of Hob’s safety is worth whatever Dream has to give.

[tinker-tailor-soldier-tye]

Babel Review: Lost in Translation

https://www.ajtye.com/post/babel-review-lost-in-translation

Here in this house, we don't judge a book by its cover.

Except of course we do, all the time, and it's this vice that makes Babel so utterly magnetic. The gothic monochrome cityscape; the strike of glistening silver that tears through the centre of Oxford; and of course, the page edges, black as coal. "An Arcane History" the gothic cover pronounces, and with this gorgeous, arresting packaging, Babel marks itself as a book of rare ambition and style. The first of these qualities is commendable and fascinating - the other is a prison, and it's the tussle between the two that marks Babel as a uniquely frustrating work of fantasy literature.

The world of Babel is our own, nudged ever so slightly off balance: an alternative history of Victorian England, where magic has wormed its way into the halls of power and is commanding the attention of the British Empire. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell comparisons are not unwelcome here, right down to the use of footnotes to expand upon the core text. But where Clarke's novel felt more like a love song to its genre, Kuang's work is a letterbomb: a desperately angry brick thrown against the colonialist underpinnings of imperialism.

Kuang - a scholar, herself - chooses translation as both a source of in-world magic, and her thematic route in to this quagmire. In this world, magic is drawn from match pairs: a word in two separate languages, each one conveying a slightly different meaning from the other and both inscribed onto a piece of silver. When the words are spoken aloud, magic is created in that semantic gap. Great effort is put into explaining this premise further within the book, but the magic itself is rarely a core element on which the plot turns; instead it functions as a resource that the British Empire is doggedly hunting. Indeed, a lot of attention is paid to how the magic produced by the silver is often used for convenience’s sake - smoother carriages, better curtains - and available solely to the wealthy upper-class of Britain.

Peruse the goodreads review section and you'll find a lot of ire drawn against the flighty nature of the magical world building in Babel, particularly with regard to how little impact the magic of translation has had upon the populace at large. In my own experience, I was never truly moved by these complaints. The magic at work in Babel serves such a clear metaphorical purpose that the in-universe consequences seemed secondary. This will not hold true for everyone, and there’s a definite tension to be found within the way that Babel presents itself, with many of the in-universe lectures drawing attention to the magical system, and thus inviting further questions on behalf of the audience. But I think to focus purely on these gaps is to do a disservice to the evocative idea that Kuang is pursuing. Here, language is presented as a symbol of the differences between cultures, whilst translation is the way we move between those differences and discover something new (in this case, the benefits of a new system of magic). Where the book finds its teeth is in how the Empire plunders those cultural differences for its own prosperity and superiority.

On the face of it, big ideas delivered primarily through lectures should sound the death knell for any novel's entertainment value, but it is to Babel's enormous credit that it remains a compelling read throughout. Having not read The Poppy Wars I can only speculate as to how much this Dickensian tome matches the author's previous work, but my initial takeaway is that Babel is intentionally written to take advantage of a more minimalist style of writing: a straight-talking economy of prose that benefits the narrative tremendously for its clarity...though perhaps less so for its vivacity.

This brings us back to the notion of ‘covers’, or perhaps more accurately, aesthetics’. It doesn’t take a lot of digging to see that how Babel presents itself is clearly very important to Kuang’s artistic vision. From the use of epigraphs in each chapter to harken back to Victorian literature, to the demarcation of the novel into five shakespearean acts (complete with interludes), there's a very conscious effort on display to use style as a dramatic device.

For the record: I've never been one to hold judgement on authors who adopt another writing 'voice' as your own. However, I do think this becomes an issue once the adopted voice constricts the story you are telling, and in this sense I think Babel is less successful. For as clear and compelling as the text often is, there are long stretches that feel curiously leaden - devoid of flourish or feeling, where another less formal take on the material would flourish. Story turns often arrive out of nowhere and without flair, whilst the minute-to-minute dialogue feels curiously stiff.

There’s an argument to be made that, for all Babel postures at being a spiritual successor to Strange & Norrell, it never manages to commit insofar as the prose itself is concerned. Clarke’s novel was anything but economic in its presentation, famously indulging in a more performative nineteenth-century style of writing often compared to Jane Austen. I’m hard pressed to say what Babel is emulating, because it definitely isn’t Austen, and considering Kuang’s own description of it as a “big ponderous Dickensian bildungsroman”, it doesn’t seem to evoke much of Dickens’ extravagant passage construction either.

It would be one thing to consider this as a disconnect between form and function, but it’s much more pressing and confounding to note the lack of theatricality on display - a vanishing confidence that lays bare the didacticism that so many other reviewers have been quick to point out.

Indeed, it’s not a stretch to say that didacticism - the abandonment of subtext in order to express messages directly to the viewer - is perhaps the most commonly discussed part of Babel. It runs inescapably through the novel’s veins, from the philosophising mouths of the characters, to the thudding footnotes which abandon Strange & Norrell's whimsy for mini-lectures of varying interest. It’s obvious by now that Babel is not short of ambition, but it is to the books discredit that it elucidates the vast majority of its opinions and ideas within the opening 100 pages. Only the "violence" hinted at by the book's full title remains - but we'll get to that shortly.

Truthfully, I think didacticism gets a bit of a bad rep in much the same way that exposition does. Tutorials and reviews online often mark exposition as a failure of writing, yet there is not a single piece of work that does not exposit at some point and to some extent - it's just about doing it in the most appropriate way. Christopher Nolan’s Inception is comprised of 80% exposition (citation needed), and yet is totally thrilling, revelling in its ideas all the way to the credits. The same can be said for the way a story uses didacticism - there can be a great catharsis in a work that proclaims its own identity.

There is catharsis to be found in Babel, too. Whilst the authorial voice on display is clear and calm, Kuang sets about dismantling myths of abolition with such thoroughness that the anger behind the pen becomes palpable. It’s fun to feel like a Molotov cocktail is being thrown into the annals of history, and the book’s rumination on the necessity of sacrifice to change a country’s mind will linger with me for a long time.

But these are still just ideas, waiting patiently for Babel to dramatically connect them to its characters. Unfortunately, the great disappointment of Babel is in the flatness of its core cast: a motley crew of students built out of philosophies and scones, flanked by an unending rogues gallery of cartoon racists. There are flashes of complexity to be found - particularly in the anguished (yet passive) protagonist, Robin - but these are rarely convincing, or handled with much deftness. Instead, this is character growth as an equation: x has happened to y, therefore they will do z. What’s most fascinating here is that there is no easy fix for this problem; no other writing decision that could have changed the end result. Just the simple, dawning realisation that these characters are too stiff, and that in each attempt to excavate their personalities, I imposed a vision over the text: an image of the author, desperately wishing that they were back writing the story’s lectures, where the book's aesthetic and ideas become as one.

In the year that I have owned Babel, I have turned it over in my hands many times and marvelled. I have traced my fingers over the dusty black page edges and across the tower stencilled on the back cover, wondering what gothic horrors a building such as that could draw out of a writer. Inside, on the front page of my copy, is R.F. Kuang's signature, which remains a welcomed physical reminder of the person behind this work - a person of rare talent, intellect and empathy. These things represent Babel as a piece of aesthetic art - a work of care and attention that promises a great deal of ambition. I can only be so disappointed that the contents cannot match that exquisite cover.

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (4)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOUR (18+ ONLY. I WILL BLOCK YOU), voyeurism, exhibitionism, authority kink, praise kink, spanking, slight dom themes, polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, mentions of character death, fluff if you squint, 

A/N: Slowing it down just a bit to move plot along. Freaking out on the reblogs and comments are encouraged and will be rewarded with cookies. Seriously though, I love hearing what you guys think and use some of it to make the next chapters better. I adore you all! Have at it!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:4 Apple Crumble

Steve Rogers had kindly offered for you and your team to stay at the Compound. For however long this mission would take, you were all going to start running straight at it early tomorrow. In terms of the mission, he was relieved to have your help. The sooner the serum was out of circulation the better and they truthfully did need your help. This underground world was more your scene now and you could better navigate it.

On a personal level, he was glad that you were sticking around even if it was on a contract. He would take whatever opportunity he can and make the best of it. That's how he's always been and he wasn't going to change that now.

He told himself that it was because he was the Captain that he was at your door this late after you all had agreed to part for the night. It was out of consideration that he carried with him some of his own clothes to offer you in case you needed something to change into. It was out of a need to clear the tension with you now that you were going to work as a team again that he was knocking on your door.

That was all.

You opened the door a moment later wrapped only in a short towel and with your hair still dripping wet from the shower. The smile that rose on your face was sly as you leaned on the doorframe with your arms crossed and your hip cocked to one side. He swallowed.

Maybe that wasn't all.

"What can I do for you, Cap?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was far too distracted by the little droplet that rolled down from your temple to the valley of your breasts. He shook his head and cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus only on your eyes and not the inappropriate answers that sprung to mind at your question.

"I brought you a change of clothes in case you need it," he managed to say. "And I wanted to talk to you if you're not too tired."

You opened the door wider and took the clothes from him without a word, turning into the room toward the bathroom. You casually dropped your towel to the floor and Steve choked at the sight of your bare back, a small set of black panties the only stitch you wore. The breath in his chest released only when you disappeared into the bathroom, the door cracked open offering him enticing glimpses as you moved around.

Steve hurriedly closed the door behind him and as he made his way further in, he caught sight of an open go bag beside your bed with clothes clearly visible. There was also a shirt and sweats beside it, the design he knew belonged to Pietro. He felt a little embarrassed. Of course Pietro would have already beaten him to it and that your team always came prepared. Still there was a satisfaction that bloomed in him when you stepped out clad in his shirt, the hem barely reaching mid thigh and bare feet soundlessly crossing the carpeted floor until you came to sit with him on the sofa. You tucked your legs under you and rested your head on your hand over the back of the seat.

"Gotta say I like this look, Steve," you grinned at him.

He chuckled, self-consciously rubbing at his beard and pulling at the hair at the back of his collar. The light dusting of red on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"What? You don't like the all American apple pie look?"

You hummed and took a leisurely look at him from head to toe. Rugged and imposing as he appeared, the heat on his face intensified at your obvious appreciation and the way you swiped your tongue along your bottom lip. You were biting your lip when your eyes met his again, trying to stop yourself from laughing at how flustered he was getting and how much you were enjoying it. You've always found Steve handsome and he made apple pie look damn good, but this look on him was just so dangerously delicious.

You had a type.

"I'm more of an apple crumble kind of girl. I like the texture better," you winked. "And I don't mind a little beard burn."

"Will your team mind that I'm talking to you without one of them here?"

You raised an eyebrow and held his unsteady gaze, clearly understanding he meant more than just your professional relationship with the three men.

"You're curious."

"It's none of my business. That's not what I came to talk to you about," he stammered, unaccustomed to how forward you were.

"What did you want to talk about then?"

"I wanted to apologize properly and thank you for agreeing to help."

You groaned and threw your whole body back on the seat, causing Steve's shirt to ride up just shy of completely flashing him. You sat back up and pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a long breath. It was only the fact that it was Steve that you were even entertaining this conversation.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Steve," you firmly dismissed.

"I do, Nem. We all do."

"Fine. List down what you're sorry about. Let's go through it one by one or we can draw lots to make it interesting."

"Nem," he said, low and clear with warning yet imploring you to listen. "Can you take this seriously for one second?"

The ever present smirk on your face dropped as you sighed heavily and ran a hand through your hair. For the first time since he's seen you, your expression softened a fraction and a shadow of the person he used to know passed across your features.

"Listen to me, Steve. I don't blame any of you. I'm not angry at any of you. I honestly have no room for more anger even if I wanted to be."

In the beginning you were. There were days while you were getting tortured that you hated them while you pleaded to the heavens for them to rescue you. It had taken a decade and three incredible men for that inferno of fury to turn into a manageable bitterness.

"Do you know how tiring it is to be so fucking angry all the time?" you chuckled darkly. "It took a while, but I learned to prioritize what I choose to be angry about."

"Salvacion," he muttered and you nodded, your eyes staring blankly forward.

"I've carried that name for a decade, Steve. That asshole has to die by my hands."

Steve saw now how selfish he was for forcing the conversation with the purpose of earning your forgiveness. It was for easing his own guilt that he was doing it when instead he should have just been thanking you for what you did and had to endure.

"Why didn't you ever come back?"

"I tried, Steve. When I was recovered enough I tried to go back. Did you know my sister had a girlfriend?"

He shook his head, throat suddenly closing at the sight of absolute misery in your eyes. He regretted starting this conversation even more.

"Jill. She was amazing to Lily and she was like a sister to me too," you smiled a little, not in your usual sarcastic way but with a hint of gentle fondness before your expression hardened once more.

"I saw her and I just couldn't bring myself to face her. I'm the reason the love of her life is dead. I couldn't, Steve"

It started off with the fear that they might have killed Jill too. You told yourself you had to know, but truthfully you were trying desperately to find a connection to Lily. You found her visiting the graveyard, laying flowers on two stones and spending the afternoon sitting on the ground tearfully talking to the dead. The shame burned through you and from then on you made it your sole purpose to destroy the man who took Lily from you both. Until then you had no right to face her. You had no right to return to the life you once knew.

Steve noticed that you weren't crying although the look in your eyes was swimming with grief. He expected you to cry, but somehow seeing you with dry eyes only made you look more in pain. You only clenched your fists, your shoulders tense and your jaw stiff. Steve decided he would tell the others instead of having you go through this conversation again.

He would do that for you.

You woke up surprisingly refreshed the following morning, strangely lighter than you have felt in the past decade. You didn't expect for that talk with Steve to have such an impact on you. You smiled ruefully, remembering your many counseling sessions with Curtis before and that maybe you were finally seeing his point.

FRIDAY had directed you to the larger conference room for today's briefing session with the rest of the team. You were wearing another one of Steve's shirts paired with your usual cargo pants, a fact that didn't go unnoticed judging by the raised eyebrows and teasing smiles. Billy in particular was leaning in to whisper to Matt what was going on.

"You don't have to tell me. I can smell it," Matt chuckles, crinkles visible at the edges of his dark sunglasses. "His cologne is quite distinct."

You smacked Billy on the arm, but laughed with them as well before throwing a wink at Steve who proceeded to blush a deep red. As you took your seat, a cup of coffee suddenly materialized in front of you accompanied by Pietro's ever bright smile. You smiled gratefully and took a sip, eyes slightly rounding in surprise at the taste.

"You remembered how I took my coffee."

"I've forgotten nothing about you, little star."

You haven't taken your coffee that way in so long. It's been just strong plain black coffee lately, the lack of sugar and cream where you lived with the boys being a factor. It had seemed pointless to eat something sweet when there was a permanent sour taste in your mouth from life. Now though you couldn't seem to help taking one sip after another, licking your lips before going in for more.

Right now this tasted right.

You didn't notice that Billy was smiling adoringly at you and sharing a look of approval with Frank as the briefing began, happy that someone aside from him was spoiling you. You certainly didn't know that Matt was smirking because he heard your heart literally skip a beat at the sweet gesture.

It took hours for the meeting to wrap up, but there was still more to do before you could actually take action. A number of the Avengers were sent out to gather more intel while the rest would stay to make further preparations.

"I only really need to talk to Frank a bit more," Steve said as he approached your group. "Why don't we have Pietro show you guys around the Compound? There are some improvements I think you'll find interesting."

Your tour guide for the afternoon appeared beside you, taking your hand in his and bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement. He was just too cute that you couldn't help but let out a small smile. The effect he had on you remained it seems.

"A tour would be really helpful for me," Matt easily agreed.

"And I go wherever the pretty girl goes," Billy added, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"Great. Surrender your weapons and you should be good to go," Steve asked with a pointed look at both you and Billy who groaned in answer.

Billy was ready with a string of complaints and counter arguments when the clang of metal on the glass conference table stunned him into silence. He watched in complete disbelief as you removed every gun and blade attached to your body, efficiently dismantling them and lining them up on the table.

"Is she?" Matt murmured, leaning closer to Billy.

"Yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

By the time you stepped back, there was practically a decent sized armory on the table. How and where you managed to fit all of it on your person was a mystery to them.

"You missed one," Billy said, snapping out of his daze.

He stepped in front of you and casually slipped his arm up the front of your shirt and under your sports bra. His fingers grazed unnecessarily close to your now hardened nipples and he simply winked when you raised an eyebrow at him. Billy pulled out two small throwing daggers soon after and placed them alongside your other weapons.

"Oh yeah. I keep forgetting about those," you chuckled.

"Do you always come armed to the teeth?" Bucky snapped, clearly bothered by the display.

"She doesn't want her team to carry extra ammo for her, Sergeant," Billy scowled at him, the obvious animosity surprising Bucky. When he turned back to Pietro, his expression was back to his usual playful one. "So how about that tour?"

Frank turned to Steve when you had exited the room. "You gotta teach me that trick, Cap."

"What trick?"

"First time in 10 years I've seen her take any kind of order without a knife fight first," he said, cracking a smile and shaking his head.

It turns out that coming back was doing some good for you and this made him more comfortable around the Avengers. He wasn't about to braid them friendship bracelets but he was less inclined to pop a cap in their ass. At least for the time being.

Walking around the Compound brought back some of that wonder you felt when you first stepped in, but it recalled everything you had lost. Sensing the sudden tension in you, Billy gripped you by the waist and pulled you into his side. He kissed your temple, a silent reminder of what you had gained.

Pietro had been an absolute sweetheart, specifically describing what was in the area for Matt's benefit and pointing out the changes to you. The training area was your last stop, the place you had spent the most time in during your short stint here. There were loud sounds coming from the area and walking in you saw fresh-faced recruits in paired off sparring sessions.

Your full attention was on Pietro as he happily listed off the new features and answered questions from Matt and Billy, the latter now in businessman mode as he thought of what he could implement for Anvil. You were having an unusually pleasant time until a familiar shrill voice demanded your attention.

"Well look what the street cat dragged in. Y/N?"

You knew that voice. A decade with torture and trauma included apparently couldn't change how much her voice grated at you. The cold smirk made a reappearance on your face as you slowly turned to face her, the three men with you were instantly alarmed at the change in your demeanor.

"Kim," you nodded.

"Thought you were dead."

"Thanks. Can't say I thought about you at all though."

"I see you're still pathetically clinging to Pietro."

"What can I say? He's really cute," you said with a wink at Pietro who seemed to enjoy the compliment.

She sneered at you, her irritation rising when you weren't backing down like you used to do. She couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed about you, but you seemed rougher around the edges and far too cocky for her liking. Luckily, she still remembered a sure-fire way to take you down a few pegs.

"I'm teaching a class on hand to hand combat. How about we show them a demonstration on what a real fight looks like?"

You giggled as your smile grew, a disturbing sight that made even Kim doubt herself for a moment. You nodded your head in easy acceptance and she looked like she was pleased at herself for getting this opportunity. Before you could step forward though, you found Matt's walking stick blocking your path.

"What? It's not assault if it's provoked," you grinned at the frown on his face.

He hated it when you found loopholes, but he relented with a heavy sigh. He was too used to this. He leaned toward Pietro and told him that he should inform the Captain.

"Get some snacks too, roadrunner," Billy chuckled, delightedly watching you strip off your shirt and walking confidently towards Kim on the sparring mats.

Pietro had returned a moment later after completing his task, actually handing Billy a bag of fresh popcorn. The smile on his face froze when he caught sight of your bare skin. So far all he had seen as evidence of your torture was what was visible on your neck and face. He had stupidly brushed that fact aside, too excited to have found you again. Now the vicious marring on your beautiful skin was a cruel reminder of their failure as your team. They had failed you.

He had failed you.

Back in the conference room, the same feelings were shared by two super soldiers. They had pulled up surveillance on the training area after Pietro's message, just in time to see you take off that shirt.

Bucky felt the air leave his lungs at the horrific sight. He was alive and you had paid a heavy price for saving him. He could barely keep his eyes on you, the shame burning through him. He didn't want to imagine the amount of pain you had to endure to sustain those injuries.

"Don't you people dare look at her with pity," Frank warned. "Those scars are a testament to her strength. She's damn beautiful."

Steve agreed. He'd caught a glimpse of your scars last night and jarring as they were, your complete lack of self consciousness to them just made you more alluring. Looking back at the screen though he was concerned that you could hurt yourself. Kim was a top agent now, high enough in the ranks to be training recruits and leading missions. She had proven herself deadly in combat, but the way you were grinning was chilling in itself.

"One question before we start," you said.

"What?" Kim scoffed, flipping her braided hair over her shoulder.

"When's your next mission?"

"2 weeks. Why?" she answered, perfect brow raised in confusion.

"Just calculating your recovery time," you shrugged. "I'm nice that way."

Kim predictably charged at you then, growling and cursing at you under her breath. You smirked, standard SHIELD movements were easy to read for you. You stayed completely still and relaxed in your stance as she lunged at you with her fist. You timed your movement precisely, sidestepping at the absolute last moment. One hand grabbed at the back of her head, forcing it down to ram against your oncoming fist with a sickening crack.

Broken nose.

Kim shrieked in pain as the blood gushed from her nose and she tried to pull away from you. You didn't let her. You pulled her down by the shoulder to bend her over before driving your knee up her midsection. She wheezed at the impact, the mat below her smattered with her blood.

Bruised ribs. Maybe slightly broken.

You unceremoniously threw her aside, letting her fall groaning on her side. You clicked your tongue, watching her struggle and turning to the class she was supposed to be teaching.

"Lesson 1, kids," you waved your hands in Kim's general direction. "Don't end up like that."

Broken ego.

You turned to go back to your boys when the glint of metal caught your eye. You tilted your head just in time for the dagger to zip past your eye line, only thinly scratching at your cheek. Your hands reacted on instinct, reaching for the small hidden pocket along the waistband of you pants. You flicked the thin blade with deft fingers, embedding on the mat and landing it purposely close to Kim's eyes that it cut through her fake lashes.

"Nem!" Steve's unmistakable voice boomed through the speakers. You had forgotten that they had FRIDAY everywhere. "We said no weapons."

You rolled your eyes and smiled cheekily at the cameras. "It's just a nail file. I don't like keeping blood under my nails."

"You call that training?" Steve groaned rubbing his eyes and turning to Frank.

"I call that anger management," Frank said, amused at how unpredictable to handle they already found you when they've barely scratched the surface. He noticed how Bucky looked furious, his metal hand clutching a little too hard onto the table. "Don't like what you see, Sarge?"

Bucky didn't answer. He didn't tell them that he didn't like what he saw because he knew he was a major contributor in what caused it. If only he had been kinder, gentler, more honest. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

He walked down the hallways much later gripping a first aid kit in his metal hand and nervously running the other through his cropped hair. The cut on your face was barely anything, but he needed an excuse to talk to you. He was afraid you would turn him away, but he was terrified that you wouldn't. He didn't know what to say to you. He didn't know how to begin to apologize for everything he's done. His palm grew sweaty and beads were beginning to form on his brow.

He was only a few steps away from your bedroom door and he was sorely tempted to turn back around when he noticed that it was cracked open and he could hear voices from inside. He should have followed his instinct to keep his distance but a high whine that definitely came from you pushed him to peak through the small opening.

What he saw made his already thumping heartbeat grow quicker. His eyes grew wide and his throat went dry. Whatever he was expecting, it definitely wasn't this.

You. Stark naked. Grinding your mound on someone's face.

You looked absolutely glorious as you wound your hips in your chase for release; head thrown, back arched, and lips in a dreamy smile. The view he had of you, facing him and deep into your pleasure, was enough to cause his pants to tighten. He couldn't see which one of your teammates was beneath you, the bedframe blocking his view. Whoever they were, Bucky was jealous. He wanted to taste you too.

He felt that stirring of longing again now as he watched you in the throes of passion with another man. He felt it the moment you stepped back into their lives. He felt it during the 10 years they thought you were dead. And he felt it when you were still in training as a recruit every time you smiled at Pietro and Steve.

You picked up your pace and he could see muscular arms reach up to grip your waist and pull you down harder. You were panting curses, your breathing turning erratic and Bucky could see your thighs begin to shake. The sight of you coming undone has to be the most entrancing thing he's ever seen.

Movement from you and your partner pulled him from the hypnosis caused by your erotic display. His face heated up, deeply embarrassed at having watched you for so long and finding enjoyment in basically violating your privacy. He was about to leave when the man whose face you had been riding, came up to kneel behind you.

He pulled your hips back against his own, sliding his hard length easily into your dripping cunt causing you to moan so deliciously that Bucky felt a shiver run down his spine. You reached your hand up to grip the back of his head, letting him bury his own in your neck as he set a languid pace with his thrusts.

Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened, locking directly with Bucky's. You smirked and reached down to circle your swollen bud, pressing your back further against the hard body rutting behind you and purposely putting on a show. You winked at him.

He bolted out of there.

"That wasn't very nice, honey," the low voice was thick with lust in your ear. His breathing was growing labored too, finding your heat wrapping around him overwhelming.

"I don't see you stopping, Captain."

"How can I when you're gripping me so tight?" He snapped his hips earning a sharp moan from you. "Did you like that? Torturing my best pal with me balls deep inside you?"

You sighed and closed your eyes. Apple pie Steve wouldn't have whispered such sinful things to you, but this Steve could make you cum with just filthy words alone.

"Yeah, you did. Look at you clenching and soaking my cock from having Bucky watch you. You like being bad to him, honey?"

A sudden smack to your ass had you snapping your eyes open. He chuckled into your neck, biting down hard on the juncture as he felt you gripping him even tighter.

"Answer," he growled, landing a harsher smack to your bottom.

"Yes! Yes, Captain, I did."

"Good. Will you be good for me now, honey? You caused a bit of trouble today." His thrusting was still slow, making sure you felt every ridge and vein with each stroke as he drove you into a stupor. "Will you be a good girl for your Captain now?"

"Yes, Captain."

He smirked against your skin, pleased at your compliance. He was reveling in the power he had over you. Frank had said that you never took orders without a fight, but here you were being so good for him. Pliable. Yielding. He was enjoying it.

He gathered your hair in one hand and pulled, your back arching beautifully and emphasizing where his cock was buried deep inside you. With each thrust his cock came out glistening with your slick. The image made him lose control, abruptly escalating his pace to rail feverishly into you.

He had you gasping and clutching at the sheets instantly, begging for him to go harder and push you over the edge. He bent over you and reached around to rub furiously at your throbbing clit.

"Cum like a good girl, honey. Cum around my cock," he commanded. "I wanna feel you fucking drown me."

You came, lights dancing in your eyes and your head empty of all thoughts aside from the pleasure that racked your body. He followed soon after with a loud grunt, the sensation of you fluttering around him too much to resist.

He fell on top of you, spent and satisfied. Your sweat and heavy breaths mingling together as you both tried to return back to the world. You liked the heavy feel of him on top of you, strangely finding comfort in the weight.

He dragged you with him when he rolled off you, spooning you and planting kisses on the back of your shoulders that had your skin tingling from his beard.

"When are you going to put him out of his misery?"

"When it stops being fun?" you chuckled.

Steve wasn't going to push the issue. He knew that it was up to you whether you forgave Bucky or not and when that would be. It would be on your own terms how things moved. Just like what happened between you two. He wasn't expecting it, but the heated argument about the injuries you inflicted on one of his best agents had somehow escalated into him spanking you and you growing wet from it.

Not that either of you were complaining.

You turned around in his arms to face him, looking up at him with a taunting smirk. "You sure your old heart can take being in a polyamorous relationship?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips before going back in for a much deeper kiss that had you swooning. When he pulled back, he was looking at you lovingly.

"I'm known for waiting too long about things like this. I lost my shot at you 10 years ago. I'm not missing out on you again."

His words were firm and genuine. He honestly thought that he would mind having to share you with several other men. He thought that he would feel jealous and possessive. Instead, he felt reassured. He knew that wherever and whenever he lacked, someone else would pick it up and he would be the same. There was a sense of relief knowing that you would always be taken cared of by people who felt the same for you as he did.

"Well then you have some making up to do for waiting so long," you said nibbling at his lower lip.

He groaned and grabbed your thigh, hitching your leg up on his hip. Your thighs and core were still sticky and slippery from both your releases. His tongue dove into your mouth and he could feel you moan against his lips as he ran the tip of his cock against your still sensitive core. Your nails dug into his back as he sunk in, fitting perfectly inside you.

"You're running with a super soldier now, honey," he said, eyes burning with want. "I can do this all day."

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A/N: Some asked about Jill and Kim so here you go, lovelies. Come freak out with me in the comments and reblogs. Thank you all for the support! More coming soon. 

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[thevindicativevordan]

Why isn't Nightwing a bigger deal? He has all of Batman's skills and Superman's faith in humanity and is arguably the most beloved hero in the DCU, but most people seem to know him either as the leader of the N̶o̶t̶ ̶J̶L̶ Teen Ttians or just Robin.

Thank you for asking me about Nightwing, I've been wanting to write a piece about him for a while now. The short version is that everyone who claims Dick becoming Nightwing was him "moving out of Batman's shadow and becoming his own man" is completely wrong.

Dick Grayson is a fantastic character, someone who saved Bruce Wayne in-universe both by forcing Batman to grow up a bit, and the countless times he saved Batman's life as his partner whether as Robin or Nightwing. Dick saved Batman in the real world as well, hard to believe but Batman was actually in danger of being cancelled due to poor sales early on. Enter Robin, a young daredevil audience stand in the creators hoped would get kids interested in reading Batman. And it worked! Sales on Batman doubled once Robin showed up which is crazy to think about, but Dick Grayson has always been a popular character. Cartoons like Teen Titans, Batman: The Animated Series, and The Batman only helped grow his audience.

Character-wise, Dick Grayson really does fill a number of crucial roles in the DCU. For Batman, Dick is proof that Batman is a positive force. Meeting Batman helped change Dick for the better, helped him heal after his parents died. With Dick, Batman can take comfort in knowing that yes, he has made a difference in the world for at least one orphan boy, which is all he wanted when he lost his parents himself. To the wider DCU, Dick is a friendly face who convinces others that Batman is competent and not a complete asshole. He took this kid in, trained him to be one of the best heroes the DCU has seen, and did it all out of the kindness of his heart. That someone like Dick can confront the evils of Gotham and not break means there's still hope for that city. As Robin, Dick has led the Titans and is an icon in his own right as The Sidekick, the original, the one every other Robin is built around copying or contrasting. The one all other superhero sidekicks are drawing on as a basis. As Robin Dick Grayson is very much on Batman's level.

Just not as Nightwing. As Nightwing, Dick has been a second rate Daredevil which means he's a third rate Batman (fully prepared to get hate for this but I've read and enjoyed the Miller and Bendis DD runs so I feel entitled to my opinion). A typical Nightwing run tends to go like this: Moving to Bludhaven (which is Gotham... but WORSE!), Dick Grayson usually enrolls in a pointless job we don't care about in order to provide some meaningless soap opera drama that doesn't go anywhere. Patrolling the city as Nightwing, he fights a variety of bad guys who are usually rather lame and unthreatening, with his big bad being a Kingpin knockoff called Blockbuster. Villains are fought, long running plotlines are set up, then everything is abandoned because it's Batfamily event time, and Dick has to run back to Gotham in order to play sidekick again. Usually his involvement is completely superfluous and it would've been better if the writer had gotten to opt out. By the time we finally get back to Nightwing's solo plotlines, the audience has usually ceased to care and the run gets cut short.

That's how Nightwing has been since the New 52 at least. Anyone who thinks that's "becoming their own man" is out of their mind. Dick is so thoroughly in Batman's shadow that he got shot in the head and spent a longer time as "Ric" which everyone fucking hated and sold like shit, than he did as Agent Grayson which was extremely well-received. Reiterating: Ric went on longer than Grayson because of a fucking Batman plotpoint Tom King wanted where Bruce was sad and cut off from the Batfamily because of Dick getting shot. Not just calling out King either, how many times was Kyle Higgins Nightwing run derailed because of Scott Snyder's crossovers? Or how about that entire run getting dumped to the side because Johns wanted to out Dick during Forever Evil, a Justice League/Lex Luthor story? DC has repeatedly made their contempt for Nightwing clear, he's Batman's sidekick still in their eyes, and he serves whatever story role the Batman writer wants.

Hell his best stories tend to have been the ones where he's not Nightwing. He was Robin in a good chunk of the Wolfman/Perez New Teen Titans run. Morrison really showcased his depth as a character when they wrote him as Batman, their time with Dick under the cowl was actually one of the first Batman runs I ever read, and no Nightwing run has ever matched it in terms of quality in my humble opinion. Scott Snyder's work with DickBats also was a high point for the character, showing Dick as competent and examining his relationship with Gotham and the Gordons. King and Seeley gave him one of the best comic runs with Grayson, a series where he wasn't even a "superhero" technically! When it comes to actual pre-New 52 Nightwing runs that are highly recommended where he *is* Nightwing, there's Chuck Dixon and uhhhhhhh... Tomasi's brief run before Dick became Batman? It's not exactly an overwhelming list.

Look there has been good work done with Nightwing, I'm not claiming there hasn't been. Tim Seeley wrote a great run with Nightwing Rebirth. Seeley fleshed out Dick's Rogues Gallery with cool new ones like Raptor, he brought back old foes like Dr. Hurt (why oh why couldn't you have brought back Flamingo too?), he gave Dick's world some character it solely needed. Bludhaven under Seeley is pretty much the only time I've really felt like it lived up to being Dick's city.

The problem with fictional cities is you have to put in the work to give them the character of real cities. You have to make the cities feel like characters in their own right. Gotham is the best example of this, it's a character all it's own, one that tells you a lot about Batman and his cast. In contrast Bludhaven is usually one of the worst. Any place that wants to claim to be worse than the city that is built over the gate to hell and gets wrecked every other month by the Arkham freaks has to really put in the work to compete. Simply put, Bludhaven typically fails utterly. There's nothing about it that makes you really buy it's worse than Gotham, I mean does anyone really think Nightwing's Rogues wouldn't get their lunches eaten by Batman's? No, no one genuinely buys that. When Bludhaven claims to be worse, it just comes across as tryhard, an attribute that does end up telling you about Nightwing in unintentional ways.

So Seeley didn't do that. Instead he created a city built for a hero like Dick Grayson. Someone who is bright and flashy, but does have an element of darkness to him. Someone who loves the spotlight, but often uses it to obscure. Seeley turned Bludhaven into Las Vegas, and that was the fucking best concept for Bludhaven I have ever seen, it makes so much sense. Las Vegas is the "Entertainment Capital of the World" and isn't that the perfect city for a hero who got their start working in the circus? Isn't the aesthetics of the gleaming casinos, the glamorous sex appeal of the performers, and the spectacle of the shows, all being used to cover up the seediness of mob bosses meeting backstage perfect for Nightwing? It's so utterly unlike New York City, yet Las Vegas is still dangerous, it's got a crime culture all it's own. Seeley used it to great effect, as did Humphries during his brief run, and I will always be pissed that DC didn't continue to use it. That should have stuck around and been the definitive look for Bludhaven.

How Seeley's take on Bludhaven was treated feels like a small scale version of how Nightwing in general gets treated. Whenever creators pitched ideas for him, if editorial thought there was potential to break big, they asked for those ideas to be repurposed for Batman instead. Anything big or good gets repurposed for Batman or tossed to the side so Nightwing can go back to his default: having irrelevant adventures in a city that is supposedly worse than Gotham but can't live up to it. Just like how Nightwing is supposedly better than Batman but never gets to show it. Goddamn it's so frustrating seeing his potential get wasted like that.

The Nightwing book should be one of DC's most ambitious books in terms of storytelling. You can go from traditional superhero stories, to romantic soap opera, to spy stories, to crime noir, to horror, to cosmic adventures, and ALL of them would fit because Nightwing is someone who has a foot in both Gotham and Metropolis. He's got friends everywhere on every team, and has been a hero longer than most Leaguers have at this point. No reason DC should still be afraid to let him loose and insisting on hewing close to what Dixon established almost over 30 years ago is only holding him back. At the very least get him some better Rogues, why the hell didn't he get to keep Professor Pyg? That's Dick's villain not Bruce's! Bullshit that they didn't let Dick keep him. Hopefully Flamingo comes back, with a slight revamp I think he'd make a great reoccurring Nightwing Rogue.

Luckily it does look somewhat like Nightwing fans have reason to be optimistic. While Taylor isn't to my taste, DC clearly views him as a "big" writer, and that they put him on Nightwing says a lot. Taylor has been selling well so far, so hopefully he gets to tell his story, hilarious that even he lampshaded having to write Dick running over to Gotham for another tie-in after Taylor's big opening arc was all about Dick committing himself and his money to Bludhaven. Scott Snyder is apparently working on a Black Label Nightwing book which will explore how he's a different detective than Bruce. The Gotham Knights video game has him as one of the main stars, and while Titans is... controversial, it's one of the most popular streaming shows and Dick is the main character. There's a lot of content coming that features him in the starring role, and that will only help his star rise further.

For the first time in, well, ever it feels like DC may be serious about elevating him. Time will tell if it pays off, but I for one choose to be optimistic that the 2020s will be a turning point for Dick Grayson where Nightwing becomes hugely popular in his own right. Not just as Batman's sidekick.

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Light Novel Review – I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 2

A Defining and Relentlessly Queer Work in the Next Era of Yuri

I have backed myself into a corner and see no way out of it. For I have already awarded Inori's I'm in Love with the Villainess a perfect 10/10 score for its stellar first outing. And then, upon seeing what Inori did in the second book, I regret my choice because I have no way to raise the bar on perfection as Inori did in her light novel. Indeed, it has taken me far too long to write this review. My mind is thoroughly exhausted after pondering what I read and accepting the honest truth: that that may very well become a defining work in the next generation of Yuri. For as much time as I spend diving into the Sapphic news of the day, I devote even more to looking to the next big movement of Yuri. If I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 2 is a signal of what Yuri's future holds, then we are entering an extraordinary queer era.

The story takes off shortly after the first book. At least for the moment, the commoner revolt is quelled, and Rae continues schooling alongside her beloved Claire. Storylines include a new transfer student rivaling Rae for Claire's affection and the girls going on vacation to visit their families. However, the story takes a pretty dramatic and welcome turn halfway through the book. Through a combination of luck and her expect negotiation tactics, a fruit of her intimate knowledge of Revolution's world and inhabitants, Rae is tasked with investigating corrupt nobles. This change allows Inori to take the world and characters further than in the previous book. While the first volume did an excellent job establishing the world inside the school, this entry ventures beyond the academy's borders into international relationships, the church's role and goals, and the dealings of various factions and political parties. It is appropriate progression and one that lends to the story's main arc well.

While all of these events occur, Rae continues her mission of protecting Claire from the inevitable new order. By the time the finale rolls around, it is so immensely satisfying to see all of her plans and strategies pay off. It carefully balances rewarding the reader's attention and keeping them engaged with new twists and revelations. As the story develops, Claire is exposed to more of the reality of common life through Rae and comes to appreciate her privilege and understand the realities of socioeconomic inequality, evolving from the arrogant young woman we initially met. This path has two effects on the story; first, it allows Inori to explore real-world economic disparity issues while still worldbuilding. Second, it ultimately continues the story of Rae's plan, as she wants Claire to be in the commoner's good graces.

These elements make for a fantastic story in a rich, developed fantasy world. However, I adore I'm in Love with the VIllainess not for its intricate magic system but because of the phenomenal LGBTQ+ representation. I was floored by a frank, open, and wonderfully thoughtful discussion of queer representation in the first volume. Few, if any, Yuri works have done anything similar, and it was honestly an inspiration for me, so much so that I awarded it a perfect score almost solely for that passage. However, Inori once again usurps her own throne, taking this forthright and deliberate queer content and turning it up to eleven!

It is almost easier to count the number of main characters not confirmed as members of the LGBTQ community. Figures big and small have their identities explored and revealed during this novel. Some began believing themselves to be straight and exploring their sexuality further. In contrast, others are comforted by Rae's fierce, outspoken, and brazen support and pride in her identity to come forward. One particular scene that comes to mind is when she scolds a pair of nuns for using religion to justify their homophobia. This moment was particularly satisfying to return to after the Catholic Church's recent disavowing of same-sex marriage.

The series even has a character struggling with gender dysphoria who is liberated from society's expectations thanks to a rather ingenious plan of Rae's and her friends, new and old. While not exactly an example of authentic transgender representation as we consider it, as the character's struggles with gender result from a magical curse, but the parallel is clear. Speaking of reality though, the volume grants some glimpses into Ohashi Rei's life, the woman that would one day wake up as Rae.

Rae's experiences with LGBTQ+ identity, set in the real world, are powerful and pull few punches. It is perhaps here that Inori gets most honest and tragic, as Rae painfully describing the ostracization and suffering faced by queer people, culminating in a trans man's suicide (the author thankfully does not describe the actual death). However, Inori balances this pain with the thrill and joy of discovery and accepting oneself, and finding kinship. It is writing that could only come from an author who had experienced these feelings herself, and they will be immediately understood and have a visceral effect on queer readers. I love these moments so much for their vulnerability and relatability. But my favorite part has to be the ending (skip to the final paragraph if you want to avoid spoilers and somehow have not seen the cover of Volume 3).

We finally come to the big queer happy homosexual ending, which is also gay, and my great Yuri goddess, it is perfect! After wading through a revolution and enough surprise revelation to last a lifetime, Claire and Rae settle down into their new life together. Although they cannot legally get married, despite their best efforts, they are absolutely wives. Their families support them, they love each other, and they even have kids! Yes, this unexpected and blissful development, the final gift of this volume, comes in the form of adopted children May and Aleah.

As I exclaimed upon the reveal of Vol. 3's cover, which features the mothers and children, "WE DID IT!! YURI FAMILY!! In Yuri, there are virtually NO stories about queer women raising a family with children together. It is a long dream of mine, the YuriMother, to promote such stories. To have one of the most profound and explicitly queer Yuri stories end in such a happy and new way brought me to happy tears. Except, this is not the end! There are two more volumes beyond this one that continue the story of Claire, Rae, and their children! There is even a very sweet and wonderfully sappy, tear-jerking, bonus chapter of the mother's bonding with the children and helping them recover from their traumatic past. And even become TEACHERS; I could just die happy in this Yuri paradise!

'We need to show we are prepared to live happily ever after, as a family of four. So, I swear to God: I will always love May, Aleah, and Rae.' When Claire said this, she broke out into a tremendous smile and I found myself once more overflowing with love for her. I held her close without saying anything.

Inori's I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 2 is precisely what an excellent sequel should be and everything I have ever wanted from a Yuri story. It appropriately raised the stakes in every way, expanding the world, flushing out its many factions and conflicts, and setting a new bar for queer representation and discussion in Yuri. Everything Inori writes feels so perfectly slotted together. Each set piece adds to the character development; each queer issue and identity showcased helps build towards the satisfying and exceptionally gay finale. It is a superlative weaving and integration of the priceless artifacts into an absolute masterclass of LGBTQ+ storytelling. I suspect that this is one of the opening works in Yuri's next era, and I cannot wait to see what follows.

Ratings: Story – 10 Characters – 10 Art – 4 LGBTQ – 10 Sexual Content – 2 Final – 10

Check out I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 2 digitally and in paperback today: https://amzn.to/39gE664

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

My sincere thanks to Jenn Yamazaki, Nibedita Sen, E.M. Candon, and the rest of the team at Seven Seas Entertainment for translating and adapting this light novel.

[everythingthemoontouches]

💙Hi there! , First of all i want to tell you that i love your blog! And i love how your posts are so accurate!💙 If its okay with you could you please do me a favor by describing how others see me,my appearance or more specifically the vibe I radiate to others! It would mean alot to me if you you do that💙I'm a cancer sun,leo rising,Lilith sextile asc, Pluto trine asc, Uranus opposition asc, Moon opposition asc, mars sextile venus, mars opposition neptune, asteroid lilith conjunct mc and jupiter in the 1st house!💙

Hola!

Thank you that's really kind of you 💛💕

You know that quote that says Cinderella never asked for a prince. All she wanted was a night out and a dress. You kind of exude a similar vibe but with respect to leadership positions. 'I never asked to be Queen/King, but the people have spoken' kind of an energy. You would be equally happy to be by yourself, learning about the subconscious mind, higher realms and other esoteric science.

For more on Jupiter in LEO I'd recommend watching Astrofinesse.

For jupiter in the first there's KRS.

🌻As a Leo rising you come across as someone outgoing, with a playful energy but you're also somehow someone people would expect to see in a position of authority. You're drawn to people who stimulate you intellectually and love to exchange ideas.

😬If you have an Aquarius saturn you could be having some challenges in your relationships since December 2020 as saturn transits your 7th house. I'd suggest practicing discernment in this area as well as signing contracts with people until it passes( early 2023) ..

😇12th house sun could take on other people's energy. I feel like you need some time away, by yourself, preferably at the beach / pool/ shower to declutter, clear your head and replenish your sense of Self. You could be highly intuitive. If this resonates, I'd urge you to look up empath drain and how to protect yourself from energy vampires.

Ruler of the ascendant in the 12th :

spirituality could be a huge part of your life. For some people this could show a father (figure) who was convicted or worked in a prison / asylum. They could also have a really remote job. Since the sun is also your own personal identity, you could profit off these themes. Working in a mental health facility, overseas, in esoteric crafts.

🌛With your moon in the 7th house, you probably attract a lot of older women, (queen of swords) nurturing energies . Your mom could have a major influence on any business partnerships that you enter.

In relationships you could have a here today gone tomorrow kind of a presence. This is because as the moon waxes and wanes so does your attraction / attachment to specific people?

♒Aquarius moon : it could be really hard for you to express your feelings. So Instead of asking for a hug there could be a tendency to say something like ' ew imagine asking for one?' you leave a place better than you found it. If you watch hindi movies, 3 Idiots could be a movie you really resonate with. ( I pretty much spent the day looking up the lead actor, who has major aquarius placements and his films have always been disruptive with a really nice social message that left people talking for years after they were released. I tell you this because he shares 2 of your big 3 - aquarius and cancer.)

Going off on this tangent you could be a well respected teacher / writer / entertainer. Jupiter in LEO could help with this.

I do feel like you need a certain amount of inventiveness in your relationships. The people you're with are people who introduce you to new hobbies / ideas / technologies. You need to feel like you guys learn something new or create something that matters together. This is enhanced by uranus in the 7th house. You could come across really cold because you always give people the naked honest truth when asked. You do this from a place of love. I'm reminded of the Queen of Swords card in the rider Waite tarot. Not everyone has the maturity to take it. Or maybe they've just had a bad day. It is what it is. Perhaps try to not be so incisive if this is something you struggle with.

In the same vein, if I asked you to write down how you were feeling how long would it take for you to identify the right emotion. How honest are you with yourself?

Moon and Uranus being in the same house could show that stagnation could really hurt your mental health / happiness / satisfaction levels.

With a saturn ruled moon I feel like I need to remind you to not be so hard on yourself. Like. The world won't crumble to dust if you allow yourself to take care of you once in a while.there's only so much you can do.

All those coffee mugs will catch up. There's no such thing as extra hours in the day. A lack of sleep manifests as early signs of aging. No hate for the elderly but arthritis is not a fun ailment to have. Do you wanna be 60 with 80 year old nervous system problems? I rest my case.

Uranus and moon aspect your ascendant so you could have a slightly plump look?

Jupiter in the first house people usually have prominent thighs. I had a friend with this placement and when we were growing up she used to complain of chafed thighs a lot?

Mars sextile venus you could be your own type? The way you act and the way you want your future partners to express love could be quite similar which is good for healthy relationships.

There could be a tendency to spend impulsively.

With Mars sextiling venus you could be someone who earns more the more active their lifestyle is? Like, you may need to be an agile learner to keep money flowing in .

Jupiter in LEO in a woman's chart usually shows they'd have a financially well off spouse so money may not be a huge concern. He could be a sailor or earn via exports/ navy. It's hard to say without knowing where your Saturn is.

The image you project to the world could be a lot more outgoing than how you actually feel. You're more private than people think.

With a fire rising, water sun and air moon you could either be a really balanced person or just have a number of clashing ideas on who to be, what to do and achieve.

Descendant : The people that hate on you could attack your need to stand out /try to dim your time in the spotlight. Think aquarius themes of standing out to improve community clashing with Leo's need to stand out solely because it helps their ego. Like your confidence could trigger the part if them that felt judged negatively for expressing their individuality.

Do you feel like you thrive in chaos? I'm guessing you're atleast in your late 20s if not older, so you might have gotten better at dealing with people acting unexpectedly. Your mom could have been unpredictable. Really intelligent, but forgets to eat ..

🥤🦀As a cancer sun, you could be the friend your friends come to for advice. There could be a tendency to be a little too selfless. I think your aqua moon really serves as a shield to those who try to take advantage of your caring nature. Have you considered a career in psychic medium ship? Or any spiritual art/ past life regression / you get the drift..

Is there a family craft or hobby that you could monetize? Jupiter in LEO could signify ancestral gains.

Lilith and Pluto aspects to ascendant can make you come across really sexy / a bit unapproachable because people feel like you have some kind of power that places you above them?

Due to this, people with Pluto / Lilith aspects can feel some kind of hurt around people clearing up the path around them if that makes sense.

Jupiter opposite moon : there could be a clash between you want to do VS what you feel you should be doing.

Jupiter in the first house : you could have been born rich? Or people just perceive you that way. They also see you as someone wordly wise and lucky in general. You could know a lot about a wide variety of things. Specially on topics related to appearance, personal development, image consciousness etc. Since the ruler of the first is in the 12th I feel like some of your wisdom comes from a divine source. Like you're tapping into some kind of a collective reservoir of knowledge. In starseed terminology we would refer to this as downloads.

Jupiter rules the 8th house and 5th house.

So love, romance, games, early education may have been a bit of a breeze for you.

Jupiter is usually a bit of a celibate spiritual person. So, while it may make you really wise with respect to things like the occult / tarot / other 8th house themes, I'm not sure how it would impact your sex life with a spouse. Sex could be either a deeply spiritual experience for you or take on more neptunian traits. Addiction / alcoholism / drug use the works. Jupiter expands the themes of the house it rules so a word of caution there.

Travelling could bring you luck. Or even love.

Did I hear Mars opposite Neptune?

This could be a literal battlefield. You could feel like you need to work for love.if Neptune is unconditional love and Mars is your drive, then you could literally match to get to taht elusive unconditional sense of belonging /love / acceptance. But what are you marching towards really? A mirage? With this aspect I'd really be on the guard against addiction of any kind. Neptune is enticing, alluring, mocking Mars for its need to conquer. It could lend a really nice swagger to your walk. A runway model could benefit from thus placement. At uts best this aspect imbues you with creativity, inspiration, otherworldly imagination and the energy required to turn your abstract ideas of art into something tangible.

Here's a source for more on this placement. Sometimes I find that the comments really help me make sense of my own placements

Toodles

Before I sign off, I just have to say this :please try to restrict asks to 2-3 placements. You can send in multiple asks if you'd like, but answering them all in one ask can get a bit cluttered and I'd hate to miss out on something 😊

Hope this helped 💕as always, I'd really appreciate your feedback on this take on how these placements affect you.

[genshin-impacted]

empress of the first water // Zhongli x Reader (1)

Word Count: ~2.2k

Palace/Harem Imperial Drama AU: You are a princess, soon-to-be-Empress, and Zhongli is the teacher invited by the royal court to show you the ropes before you ascend to the throne after a royal tragedy. 

Notes: female!reader, eventual mutual pining, fake political maneuvers, mentions of death (yes, this is a set up to a harem drama, but Zhongli is focused in this), Zhongli POV

[Next]

hello welcome to the AU I made up; hope I finish this someday :)

“You are unfit to lead this country.”

Not two weeks after a tragedy that hits the royal family, leaving you the sole heir to the throne, that is what has been said to you over and over again. The royal court adjourns without delay, placing you in the middle of it-- though you could care less.

You hold whatever you have been able to salvage from the fire: a necklace momento from your father, the dress that your mother had woven herself. And in your hands, you hold in an urn the ashes of what remains of your family. 

There is nothing else on your mind except for the fact that you are alone as the lone heir to the throne, the only living princess of the royal bloodline, and soon-to-be Empress of a nation that you are not prepared to lead.

You just want to mourn.

.

.

.

Zhongli has lived long enough to understand that politics will always be the determining factor in which his life will be led. It does not matter what he dreams of doing or what he desires. As the only born son to one of the oldest and most prestigious families in the nation, his life has never been his own-- though he supposed no one born of royalty has ever been truly in control of their path.

Still, Zhongli finds ways to play what cards he has. He earns praises for his wide array of knowledge in tradition, politics, and culture alike, but it is easy to know something if you are interested in it. He remembers vividly when Guizhong teased him, calling him an old soul when he delved personally into the traditions of tea ceremony, of calligraphy and poetry, out of his own volition because he enjoyed learning. His skills in the polearm-- also passed down in his lineage-- have also not been neglected, for he finds that it is similar to dancing, an elegant and respectful pastime that he often admires in operas and shows that he indulges himself in. If he could do anything with his life, Zhongli thinks he would be a writer or a teacher, or possibly even a historian.

("Old man," Guizhong had said to him affectionately for the last time before she left the compound to serve her duty as a princess, like many others. "One day you'll find yourself someone who listens to you and you'll talk their ear off."

"I doubt anyone would listen to what I have to say willingly," he had said, and his friend had only given him a soft look and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

"I don't," she said.)

It has been years since he has entertained the idea of living a quiet life writing his knowledge onto paper and even longer still since had long last seen his childhood friend. Zhongli finds himself in the fray of politics that he knows so much of and has no choice but to delve into when he is invited to the royal capital.

"It is a great honor," his father had said to him, hands behind his back, "to be meeting the Princess of the royal family. Make a good impression; this is of the utmost importance."

Political maneuver, Zhongli thinks immediately, not doubting the intention of an invitation coming from the palace, especially after the incident he has been told of. A fire of great destruction, the burning of a whole wing with the royal family trapped inside-- one would think it was a plot to overthrow the Emperor, but if anyone were to stage a coup, they would have burned the inner walls of the palace where the man resides, bedridden. A great coincidence to have the royal family unable to escape, but it almost seems too malicious to call it that. Gross neglect? Bad luck? Karma? Truly, a tragedy as the death of many could not be described worse than as an accident. 

Zhongli thinks it is much too early to be moving the chess pieces so soon after half the board has been razed to the ground, but he supposed the world has never been that kind.

With a trained expression, Zhongli picks up the tea that had been brewed and takes a sip (too bitter, stepped too long, he thinks, wincing slightly, and putting the cup down). "I understand, father." He pauses for a moment and considers his words. "Is there a particular reason for this invitation?"

"The Princess is in need of education due to her lack of preparation as an heir," he says, "though I also hear she is in need of a husband as well."

The tea leaves in the cup trembles for a moment before sinking. "Father?"

"This is an opportunity of a lifetime, son."

And Zhongli thinks about his role, his abandoned journal, and books yet to be read and nods. "I understand," he says, wondering why, even though he expects where his life has been leading, he feels disappointed by the outcome anyway. "I will bring honor to our family."

"I expect nothing less," is what is said to him, and Zhongli swallows the bitterness of the tea down.

.

.

When Zhongli arrives at the palace, he is welcomed with all the excitement that is to be expected from the arrival of a son whose family holds prestige. Maids of many numbers cater to his every whim, and the few court officials who seem to favor him welcome him to the royal palace, which is broad and grand just as history would describe them. 

Briefly, he wonders if it is professionalism or greed that maintains the palace’s daily businesses after an evident tragedy.

"I would like to extend my greetings and gratitude to the princess for allowing me in her castle," Zhongli says carefully, his voice even and words like silk-- just as he was taught as an educated man-- and watches in confusion as the nobleman who had barely kept his pleasure at his presence suddenly deflate. 

"Ah, yes, of course, you would like to see the Princess," he says, a nervous lilt to his voice. "But I'm afraid she is preoccupied with another commitment at the moment. My apologies."

Invitation from the Princess, he remembers reading from the telegram, thinking it strange that someone would invite someone without intentions of welcoming them. It's easy to come to the conclusion that the Princess had not sent the message-- and the thought that she may not even know of his arrival also comes following after. Instead of speaking, Zhongli nods, much to the noble's relief as he continues to parade and provide him the tour that he has not asked for but appreciates nevertheless.

His room is two halls down the main chambers where you live. If the location and proximity to royalty were not enough, the room itself was also vast and much too big for one person, but he supposes luxury and decadence can be shown in empty space as well as it can with beautiful trinkets and trophies. Zhongli has always admired such things, as he does with the ornate statue sitting on top of his vanity and wonders when, if he ever does, he will be able to explore the castle in between whatever responsibilities the court deems him in need for.

"Maid," Zhongli says gently, but the young maid startles anyway when he addresses her. 

"Yes, sir?"

"Would I be allowed to stroll the gardens of the west side of the palace?" He says, "The moon is to be full tonight and I wish to view it."

She flushes, for reasons that Zhongli knows not for. "I-I believe so. The guards should be patrolling at the moment, but you are a recognized guest of the palace, so all should be well."

When Zhongli steps out onto the carefully maintained rock garden, he spots a few men walking down and up the inner walls of the castle. He briefly thinks about the number of them but thinks no further, for now. Instead, he thinks the moon is best viewed when its reflection is in the water, clouds are nowhere in sight, and all is quiet. He comes close to the perimeter of the garden inner castle, expecting to see no one. 

Zhongli steps into the moonlight and watches as you sit onto the grass and lean your head against the lone lantern post.

Perhaps you are here to moon-gaze as well, he thinks and goes to alert you with his presence by clearing his throat. He doesn't know why his earnest attempts to be unalarming go unwell, but he startles you into turning around. 

Zhongli does not know what the Princess looks like, nor has he had anyone describe you to him. But Zhongli knows who you are if not solely from the emblem you carry on your headpiece and the way you hold a funeral urn in your lap like it is the only thing tethering you. As such, he expects the caustic demands of his name and stature, as expected of a Princess, but he is surprised to find that you look at him instead like a deer in headlights, arms tense around the urn.

"My apologies for startling you, my lady," Zhongli begins, "that was not my intention."

"Oh, no, it's okay," you stammer, and he has to blink for a moment at the manner in which you speak. "I should have probably noticed you coming. I was distracted."

Princesses and princes of the royal family are taught three things from birth: power, manners, and tradition. Nothing says more about your status than the way you hold yourself and the way you speak, especially if you are of royalty, and so every word that one must speak seems carefully crafted and intricately woven with elegance. A tad bit obnoxious, if anyone could say, but it is a mark of the elite, regardless of the former. 

But you, who hold possibly one, if not the most, powerful title in the country, speak casually and without bothering with a mask of neutrality, as though you are unused to the burdens of sovereignty.

Your eyes are gentle, almost excessively so, and the way you hold yourself as though you want to be unnoticed are both strange but corroborating evidence of your peculiarities of a noblewoman. Though Zhongli has yet to understand why this is so, the instructions his father listed and his role in the castle has become clearer.

Zhongli has many questions, too many to ask about to a person who has no idea who he is. 

Decorum takes him before his curiosity overwhelms him, and he lowers his head in deep respect. "My name is Zhongli, Princess. Thank you for allowing me to stay as a guest within the palace.”

"Oh," he hears you breathe out, "you're the one that came today." You turn your head toward the koi pond that beautifully reflects the moon. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you," you say mechanically, trained.

"No, that's quite alright," Zhongli says mildly, glancing down at the urn still in your hands. "I'm sure greeting a stranger would be the least of your concerns at the moment."

At this, you smile at him. It is not a happy smile, but rather a pained one that strains your lips and pinches your eyes. Zhongli thinks back on his first lesson to maintain his expression, to keep composure, and almost marvels at the emotions clear on your face for him to see. 

(He thinks this may make your life harder for you, to wear your heart on your sleeves. But he finds himself selfishly wanting you to stay as you are.)

"I've been told one week is all I should be given to mourn, as typical of a funeral ceremony. My parents' ashes should be released but…" You glance up at the night sky dim with stars. "I know in my heart this is not the place for them."

"Then what is the place?" Zhongli echoes and holds his breath when the smile you give him is gentle beyond measure.

"Some place where the wind blows," you say, "where the earth is clean and the ocean is near. That way, my parents can choose freely where to find rest." You laugh. "That must be a pretty tall order, isn't it?"

"You are a Princess," Zhongli finds himself saying, and you turn back to him. "I believe you are allowed to demand only the very best, for yourself and your loved ones."

"I believe," he continues, when he sees your eyes mist over, "that I am here to tutor you in the ways the court deems fit. I have been praised to have a wealth of knowledge and the privilege of history in my family as well as the power of my lineage; I will guide you as best as you need me to." He pauses. "And… if you require a geographical lesson on the highest peaks, the widest oceans, and the most open plains, for reasons beyond academic, I will be available to you."

.

.

.

Zhongli returns to his room (two halls away, he reminds himself, from you), and it is only then he realizes that he has not looked at the moon at all. Not directly, he thinks, but he supposes he did see a glimpse of it, as it stands behind you as a backdrop to frame the smile you gave him that was as bright as starlight.

[jaskiersvalley]

I just reached the bottom of your writings and felt the need to say that i appreciate you. You’re really cool and im happy I stumbled upon you.

You are far far too sweet. This has been sat in my inbox for so long because I don't think anyone has called me cool before and I wanted to bask in that. I really appreciate you too and I'm really happy you stumbled upon my blog. So I hope you're still in the fandom and enjoy this little bit of odd zombie AU.

CW: Zombies, apocalypse, Resdent Evil/Last of Us inspired AU.

Last Hope

Nobody expected the Continent to turn to shit. War had been on the horizon, Nilfgaard was advancing but not once did anyone expect them to have been experimenting with creating superior soldiers to fight for them. Allegedly the idea had been to harvest some of the Continent's monsters' attributes and imbue them into soldiers, creating a new class of warriors. It hadn't worked. But what Nilfgaard did manage to create was a virus like no other before. It turned humans and animals into mindless, violent creatures whose sole purpose was to feed, preferably on human flesh. The virus spread like no other, bringing the whole Continent to its knees.

Pockets of survivors remained, walled up in thick stone keeps. Kaer Morhen was one such sanctuary. Witchers, it turned out, weren't immune to the virus. Letho had watched Serrit and Auckes succumb to it, had put them down before setting light to where they'd been trying to stay safe and he set off to find somewhere, anywhere, that would accept him. The cold didn't impact much on the undead, they still moved just as deadly fast, unencumbered by things like fatigue, hunger or frostbite. Still, he made it up to the keep and was welcomed in. It was probably the most full Kaer Morhen had been in a long time. There were witchers, sorceresses, humans, dwarves, vampires and who knew what else, all coexisting and trying to make the best of their lives.

"I heard rumours," Letho said over dinner. "There's someone immune to this whole wretched thing down South."

"And I heard a rumour that taking a shit over the parapets cures piles," Lambert shot back with a snort. Being cooped up with so many people didn't exactly suit him, even when Aiden was there along with Eskel too.

Yennefer sat up straighter. "I've heard that rumour too. Sent word out that if it's true, we're probably best placed to try and find what makes the person so special. Maybe derive a cure from them."

Not long after, Gaetan arrived with Guxart. And with some news.

"There's a man and a girl travelling North. Allegedly with the hope of a cure."

The others exchanged looks, not wanting to believe rumours. Hope was a dangerous thing, but they could all use a dose of it. Things had been bleak to say the least.

Guxart picked up the story. "There's a lot of people gunning for them. So far they've evaded being captured, left quite a bloody trail too. We saw what remained of a tavern. Allegedly the group living there had been luring in weary travellers with the promise of safety, only to throw them into a fighting ring." Unfortunately such stories weren't unusual, humans had the most disdainful ideas of entertainment at times. Guxart pressed on, "If it was those two then I hope they're not headed here. They left no survivors, cleared out the place of humans and undead alike. It was a massacre."

There was nothing to do but wait. A week passed, then another. The hope they'd felt at the mention of a possible path to a cure dwindled and turned into bitter disappointment at the backs of their minds. It was almost three weeks later that there was a commotion on the path to the old keep. The undead who lurked in the trees were snarling and howling as two figures broke into a sprint on the last stretch of the path, pursued by quite a hoard of hungry zombies.

"Get the gate!" Vesemir bellowed and it was a mad dash to open the gates while armed. They weren't quick enough and a scuffle broke out as the two travellers were up against the gates, the undead descending upon them. A sharp scream went up from what sounded like a young girl. The gate opened and Eskel reached out, pulling her in first before Lambert gruffly yanked her protector in too. The others pushed to slam the gates shut, bolting it once more.

"Cahir! Are you okay?" The girl ignored them all in favour of checking over her guardian, wisps of blonde hair sticking to her sweaty face.

"I'm fine." A gruff answer and the so called Cahir looked up at them with an exhausted, hollow gaze. "This is Kaer Morhen, right? We were told this is where we had to come. She's Ciri, I'm Cahir."

Vesemir stepped forward with a brisk nod. "Welcome. Let's get you settled. From what I hear, you had quite the journey."

Yennefer ushered Ciri away and the others trailed after her, curious to see what someone immune to the virus looked like, acted like. The left Eskel to lead Cahir to a room of his own.

"Nilfgaard's quite a way," he said by way of conversation, ignoring the way Cahir rubbed his wrist under his cloak.

"Vicovaro is even further." The answer was a little prim and offended. "I'm not Nilfgaardian."

"My apologies. If you want to clean up, we have a communal bath in the lower levels. You're welcome to join us."

The offer seemed to go ignored as Cahir simply flopped on the bed and closed his eyes without even kicking off his worn boots. Eskel couldn't begrudge him, such a journey was long and tiring even before the world went to shit. To then have to cross the Continent while chased by who knew how many people wanting his precious charge and the unending masses of undead no doubt made the whole thing exhausting.

Dinner was bubbling away in a large cauldron over a fire and the chores for the day were done. It was quite common for most of the residents of Kaer Morhen to settle in the baths, one of the few remaining luxuries left for them. To everyone's surprise Cahir bumbled in a little while later, still sleep rumpled but without his cloak. It left his ragged and torn shirt in full view, including where one sleeve had been ripped off at the elbow. On his lower arm was a freshly applied bandage with blood that had seeped through in an all too telling pattern. Cries of alarm went up as they spotted the bite.

"You've been bitten!"

"How could you endanger us like this?"

"You idiot!"

It was a cacophony as various witchers jumped out of the baths, reaching for their swords and heedless of their nudity. There was a very real danger in their midst that needed to be taken care of. Cahir held up his hands in a placating manner, surrendering without a fight.

"If I may?" He pulled his shirt over his head and the others tried to make sense of what they were seeing. His body was littered with scars from bites. Some were healed, others still scabbed over. When the trousers slid down, Cahir's legs were no different.

"What the-?" Lambert scowled.

It was the exact moment Yennefer arrived, Ciri in tow. She gave Cahir a once over. "It would seem we made some assumptions. Cahir, when you're rested and fed, I'd like to take a sample of your blood and hair please."

Next to her, Ciri giggled and tucked a strand of hair out of her face. She walked up to Cahir and took his bandaged arm in hand, inspecting his handiwork.

"You're getting better at this," she announced. "Hopefully it's the last one you've taken for me or anyone else though."

Her words were followed by an eerie silence in the baths as the others mulled over everything.

"So-" Eskel rubbed the back of his neck with a small frown, "-is Ciri your daughter?"

A bright laugh bubbled out of Ciri at that. "If only I was so lucky. I was his escort and bodyguard. Our pursuers often assumed that me being so young looking meant I was the immune one and Cahir was protecting me. That deception worked well for us."

Guxart cleared his throat. "We saw a tavern that was a fighting ring."

Both Ciri's and Cahir's faces darkened at that. It was Cahir who answered.

"We survived. But barely." His hand rubbed over his shoulder where a large chunk had been torn out, leaving a visible dent. "Had to lay low and recover for a while after that. Ciri injured her throat."

"And you got a bitch of a fever. You're the worst patient ever, always fidgeting and poking. It's a miracle only that bite got infected so bad."

Cahir stuck his tongue out at Ciri and she poked him in the stomach. In turn Cahir ruffled her hair and danced away. Taking it as a challenge, she dashed after him and gave him a shove that sent him flying, landing with a big splash in one of the baths. Spluttering and laughing, he surfaced.

"Oh you little bitch!" He playfully splashed water in her direction but Ciri let out a scream and the water froze mid arc before dropping into a sad little puddle on the ground.

The others stared at her in awe and horror. She grinned at them with a shrug. "You didn't really think they'd send some random, helpless girl as a bodyguard, did you?"

A hand landed on Ciri's shoulder as Yennefer smiled down at her. "You and I have a lot to discuss. How would you feel about learning how to control your powers even better?"

For the first time since the news that there might be a solution to the virus, hope trickled back into the lives of the residents of Kaer Morhen. It wasn't going to be an overnight solution, they knew it wasn't going to be easy. But they were one small step closer to a safer, happier life and that was more than enough for them after years of despair.

[joonie-beanie]

The King

So.

Earlier today I said this:

And then felt like writing a little bit of action/angst for a change.

The outcome is below.

All you can hear is the sound of your racing heartbeat.

“Y/N, go.”

It’s Lucifer’s command, and yet your feet won’t move.

You can barely breathe.

“Look at that. What a pathetic creature.”

The demon on the other end of the room steps forward—barely able to contain his human form as power leaks from his body. Skin slides from one side of his face, peeling from the bone with little resistance. A skull shrouded in a screen of buzzing magic is revealed, and the world seems to stand still.

Your legs shake. You’ve been around powerful demons during your stay, but none have exuded so much power that you’re literally unable to react. You know that you should be listening to Lucifer—turning tail and running from the Castle as quickly as you can—but your body remains immobile with fear.

“Father, please,” Diavolo steps forward, his arms open, but no talking shall be had.

The King of the Devildom looks at his son—the remaining skin on his face melting away as he speaks.

“I trust our kingdom to you in my time of slumber—and this is what I find.”

His hallow gaze turns to you once more. You feel as if you’ve been hit by a train—only able to watch as a black, thorned halo appears above his head. In the next beat, a cloak flares around him like fire—dark as night, and composed solely of his power. It shrouds him like armor—a display of his immense strength—and the demons around you involuntarily shiver.

Ahead of you, Diavolo slowly lowers his arms. He knows that this is not a topic his father will entertain through an open discussion.

The Devildom Prince summons his demonic form, his own magic rising on his skin as he regards the King with bright eyes.

His father can hardly contain his rage at the display.

“I am your KING, boy! You and your court seem to have forgotten that you are nothing but an uncrowned heir.” The demon holds his head high, power extending throughout the room. It feels like the force of gravity has changed, and your knees give out. The only thing keeping you from falling to the floor is Mammon, who is quick to grab your elbow. When you glance to him, you can see the fear in his eyes. The typically loud-mouthed demon has never looked so serious.

“I leave the realm to you in the hope that you continue my path, and yet here you are—,” a sour laugh leaves the King. “Entertaining humans--,” you suddenly remember that you’re not the only exchange student present—your eyes shifting over to look at Solomon, who has broken into a cold sweat. “—and even angels.”

A few paces behind you, Simeon has Luke tucked behind his back.

“Have the demons forgotten that we are not meant to be friends to everyone?”

The King paces forward, and you see the brothers flinch. They’re more on edge than you’ve ever seen—their demons forms materializing as they watch Diavolo’s father with unwavering gazes.

None of them have forgotten the King, and the way he’d ruled the Devildom before Diavolo had taken the throne. There was always trouble between the realms—demons causing mischief, and ruining balance. Trust was basically nonexistent with the celestial realm, and in time, the King had hoped to stage a revolution. To gain more power for himself—to let all beings know that demons have always been, and will continue to be, the superior race.

When the King had handed the torch off to Diavolo—electing to slumber and reserve his power until the time was right—he’d blindly assumed that his son held his ideals. That he’d conditioned Diavolo well enough to be the perfect heir—a mere vessel for his will.

It’s not until right now that he realizes how wrong he was in doing so.

His son had tricked him—hidden away his true intentions until the moment he relinquished power. And the King can only assume based on the fact that angels and humans are currently infesting his home, that Diavolo had plotted all along to undo the chaos he’d wrought.

His son is the complete opposite of him, and has clearly been working to establish balance between the three worlds in his absence.

The King cannot continue to let this go on.

“This mutiny ends today.”

The demon raises his hand—fingers spread wide. Diavolo lurches forward, grabbing his father’s wrist—the King now nothing more than a skeleton shrouded by raw magical energy—and yanks it towards the sky. Not a moment later, a pillar of dark light extends from the King’s hand—completely obliterating the ceiling above his head. The entire castle shakes—sizable chunks of debris raining overhead.

A hand grabs your wrist, tugging you backwards. Whipping your head around, you note that the hand belongs to Solomon. The sorcerer has gone white in the face—his eyes wide, and footsteps hurried as he leads you to the exit at the rear of the room. Simeon and Luke are already ahead of you, practically running to escape as Barbatos ushers them into the hall.

As your fellow human drags you away, you can’t help but glance back at the demon brothers you’ve come to love. Their hackles have risen—power leaking from their forms as they ready themselves for the King’s next move.

“We can’t just leave them to fight!” you say, finally managing to find your voice. However, despite your worry for them, you don’t allow yourself to stop in your escape—your pace quick as Barbatos leads the group of exchange students through the corridors.

Around you, the palace shakes once more. There’s so much magic in the air that you can almost see it crackling.

“Y/N, you must understand that what’s about to happen is something you cannot aid in,” Barbatos informs you, pulling open a door that leads to the garden behind the castle. “Right now, we need to get you all to safety.”

“We’ll take them to the celestial realm with us,” Simeon pipes up, his voice tight. Despite being an angel, and a fairly powerful one at that, he’s aware of how dangerous the current situation is. As much as he would love to stay and help his fallen brothers, it is not his place to meddle with royal affairs. Especially ones that are shaping up to be a coup.

Mind reeling, you hardly have a moment to stop and collect your thoughts—not until you realize you’re standing on the portal to the celestial realm. Luke reaches out to grab your hand as a tremor shakes the earth at your feet.

You feel as if your heart is being torn from your chest.

“Barbatos! Please, I can’t leave them—you, and Diavolo—like this—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts you with a smile. The butler is obviously worried himself, and yet the look on his face is kind as ever. “Lord Diavolo has been preparing for this day for hundreds of years. The awakening of the King at this time was not expected, but you must trust in the Prince, as well as Lucifer and his brothers. They are the strongest demons in the Devildom. They will live to see you again.”

You open your mouth to protest, but end up biting your lip. You grip Luke’s hand tightly, tears welling in your eyes.

There’s nothing you can do that will be of any help to them.

“We will be in contact with you soon,” Barbatos assures Simeon, the portal at your feet activating with a dim glow. The angel nods.

“Please. Be safe, my friends.”

The magic at your feet grows brighter, but before the portal can whisk you away, there’s a loud bang from the castle.

You look up just in time to see Belphegor rocketing through the castle's outer wall—completely limp as debris falls around him. Beel appears through the plume of forming smoke a beat later—wings fluttering behind him as he reaches out, trying to get a grip on his twin brother.

Even from a distance, you can tell that they’re both covered in blood.

“Be--!,” you open your mouth, trying to call out to them, but the Devildom disappears from in front of you. The next moment, your eyes are assaulted by the brilliant scenery of the celestial realm. Your legs immediately give out, and you collapse onto the pavement at your feet.

You think you hear Simeon calling out to you, but his voice sounds so far.

You’re too overwhelmed.

Everything goes black.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Patent troll's IP more powerful than Apple's

I was 12 years into my Locus Magazine column when I published the piece I'm most proud of, "IP," from September 2020. It came after an epiphany, one that has profoundly shaped the way I talk and think about the issues I campaign on.

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

That revelation was about the meaning of the term "IP," which had been the center of this tedious linguistic cold war for decades. People who advocate for free and open technology and culture hate the term "IP" because of its ideological loading and imprecision.

Ideology first: Before "IP" came into wide parlance - when lobbyists for multinational corporations convinced the UN to turn their World Intellectual Property Organization into a specialized agency, we used other terms like "author's monopolies" and "regulatory monopolies."

"Monopoly" is a pejorative. "Property" is sacred to our society. When a corporation seeks help defending its monopoly, it is a grubby corrupter. When it asks for help defending its property, it is enlisting the public to defend the state religion.

Free culture people know allowing "monopolies" to become "property" means losing the battle before it is even joined, but it is frankly unavoidable. How do you rephrase "IP lawyer" without conceding the property point? "Trademark-copyright-patent-and-related-rights lawyer?"

Thus the other half of the objection to "IP": its imprecision. Copyright is not anything like patent. Patent is not anything like trademark. Trade secrets are an entirely different thing again. Don't let's get started on sui generis and neighboring rights.

And this is where my revelation came: as it is used in business circles, "IP" has a specific, precise meaning. "IP" means, "Any law, policy or regulation that allows me to control the conduct of my competitors, critics and customers."

Copyright, patent and trademark all have limitations and exceptions designed to prevent this kind of control, but if you arrange them in overlapping layers around a product, each one covers the exceptions in the others.

Creators don't like having their copyrights called "author's monopolies." Monopolists get to set prices. All the copyright in the world doesn't let an author charge publishers more for their work. The creators have a point.

But when author's monopolies are acquired by corporate monopolists, something magical and terrible happens.

Remember: market-power monopolies are still (theoretically) illegal and when companies do things to maintain or expand their monopolies, they risk legal jeopardy.

But: The corporate monopolist who uses IP to expand their monopoly has no such risk. Monopolistic conduct in defense of IP enjoys wide antitrust forbearance. What's the point of issuing patents or allowing corporations to buy copyrights if you don't let them enforce them?

The IP/market-power monopoly represents a futuristic corporate alloy, a new metal never seen, impervious to democratic control.

Software is "IP" and so any device with software in it is like beskar, a rare metal that can be turned into the ultimate corporate armor.

No company exemplifies this better than Apple, a company that used limitations on IP to secure its market power, then annihilated those limits so that no one could take away its market power.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

In the early 2000s, Apple was in trouble. The convicted monopolist Microsoft ruled the business world, and if you were the sole Mac user in your office, you were screwed.

When a Windows user sent you a Word file, you could (usually) open it in the Mac version of Word, but then if you saved that file again, it often became forever cursed, unopenable by any version of Microsoft Office ever created or ever to be created.

This became a huge liability. Designers started keeping a Windows box next to their dual processor Power Macs, just to open Office docs. Or worse (for Apple), they switched to a PC and bought Windows versions of Adobe and Quark Xpress.

Steve Jobs didn't solve this problem by begging Bill Gates to task more engineers to Office for Mac. Instead, Jobs got Apple techs to reverse-engineer all of the MS Office file formats and release a rival office suite, Iwork, which could read and write MS Office files.

That was an Apple power move, one that turned MS's walled garden into an all-you-can-eat buffet of potential new Mac users. Apple rolled out the Switch ads, whose message was, "Every MS Office file used to be a reason *not* to use a Mac. Now it's a reason to switch *to* a Mac."

More-or-less simultaneously, though, Apple was inventing the hybrid market/IP monopoly tool that would make it the most valuable company in the world, in its design for the Ipod and the accompanying Itunes store.

It had a relatively new legal instrument to use for this purpose: 1998's Digital Millennium Copyright Act; specifically, Section 1201 of the DMCA, the "anti-circumvention" clause, which bans breaking DRM.

Under DMCA 1201, if a product has a copyrighted work (like an operating system) and it has an "access control" (like a password or a bootloader key), then bypassing the access control is against the law, even if no copyright infringement takes place.

That last part - "even if no copyright infringement takes place" - is the crux of DMCA 1201. The law was intended to support the practices of games console makers and DVD player manufacturers, who wanted to stop competitors from making otherwise legal devices.

With DVD players, that was about "region coding," the part of the DVD file format that specified which countries a DVD could be played back in. If you bought a DVD in London, you couldn't play it in Sydney or New York.

Now, it's not a copyright violation to buy a DVD and play it wherever you happen to be. As a matter of fact, buying a DVD and playing it is the *opposite* of a copyright infringement.

But it *was* a serious challenge to the entertainment cartel's business-model, which involved charging different prices and having different release dates for the same movie depending on where you were.

The same goes for games consoles: companies like Sega and Nintendo made a lot of money charging creators for the right to sell games that ran on the hardware they sold.

If I own a Sega Dreamcast, and you make a game for it, and I buy it and run it on my Sega, that's not a copyright infringement, even if Sega doesn't like it. But if you have to bypass an "access control" to get the game to play without Sega's blessing, it violates DMCA 1201.

What's more, DMCA 1201 has major penalties for "trafficking in circumvention devices" and information that could be used to build such a device, such as reports of exploitable flaws in the programming of a DRM system: $500k in fines and a 5 year sentence for a first offense.

Deregionalizing a DVD player or jailbreaking a Dreamcast didn't violate anyone's copyrights, but it still violated copyright law (!). It was pure IP, the right to control the conduct of critics (security researchers), customers and competitors.

In the words of Jay Freeman, it's "Felony contempt of business-model."

And that's where the Ipod came in. Steve Jobs's plan was to augment the one-time revenue from an Ipod with a recurrent revenue stream from the Itunes store.

He exploited the music industry's superstitious dread of piracy and naive belief in the efficacy of DRM to convince the record companies to only sell music with his DRM wrapper on it - a wrapper they themselves could not authorize listeners to remove.

Ever $0.99 Itunes purchase added $0.99 to the switching cost of giving up your Ipod for a rival device, or leaving Itunes and buying DRM music from a rival store. It was control over competitors and customers. It was IP.

If you had any doubt that the purpose of Ipod/Itunes DRM was to fight competitors, not piracy, then just cast your mind back to 2004, when Real Media "hacked" the Ipod so that it would play music locked with Real's DRM as well as Apple's.

http://www.internetnews.com/bus-news/article.php/3387871/Apple+RealNetworks+Hacked+iPod.htm

Apple used DMCA 1201 to shut Real down, not to stop copyright infringement, but to prevent Apple customers from buying music from record labels and playing them on their Ipods without paying Apple a commission and locking themselves to Apple's ecosystem, $0.99 at a time.

Pure IP. Now, imagine if Microsoft had been able to avail itself of DMCA 1201 when Iwork was developed - if, for example, its "information rights management" encryption had caught on, creating "access controls" for all Office docs.

There's a very strong chance that would have killed Apple off before it could complete its recovery. Jobs knew the power of interoperating without consent, and he knew the power of invoking the law to block interoperability. He practically invented modern IP.

Apple has since turned IP into a trillion-dollar valuation, largely off its mobile platform, the descendant of the Ipod. This mobile platform uses DRM - and thus DMCA 1201 - to ensure that you can only use apps that come from its app store.

Apple gets a cut of penny you spend buying an app, and every penny you spend within that app: 30% (now 15% for a minority of creators after bad publicity).

IP lets one of the least taxed corporations on Earth extract a 30% tax from everyone else.

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

Remember, it's not copyright infringement for me to write an app and you to buy it from me and play it on your Iphone without paying the 30% Apple tax.

That's the exact opposite of copyright infringement: buying a copyrighted work and enjoying it on a device you own.

But it's still an IP violation. It bypasses Apple's ability to control competitors and customers. It's felony contempt of business-model.

It shows that under IP, copyright can't be said to exist as an incentive to creativity - rather, it's a tool for maintaining monopolies.

Which brings me to today's news that Apple was successfully sued by a patent troll over its DRM. A company called Personalized Media Communications whose sole product is patent lawsuits trounced Apple in the notorious East Texas patent-troll court.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2021-03-19/apple-told-to-pay-308-5-million-for-infringing-drm-patent

After software patents became widespread - thanks to the efforts of Apple and co - there was a bonanza of "inventors" filing garbage patents with the USPTO whose format was "Here's an incredibly obvious thing...*with a computer*." The Patent Office rubberstamped them by the million.

These patents became IP, a way to extract rent without having to make a product. "Investors" teamed up with "inventors" to buy these and impose a tax on businesses - patent licensing fees that drain money from people who make things and give it to people who buy things.

They found a court - the East Texas court in Marshall, TX - that was hospitable to patent trolls. They rented dusty PO boxes in Marshall and declared them to be their "headquarters" so that they could bring suits there.

Locals thrived - they got jobs as "administrators" (mail forwarders) for the thousands of "businesses" whose "head office" was in Marshall (when you don't make a product, your head office can be a PO box).

Productive companies facing hundreds of millions - billions! - in patent troll liability sought to curry favor with locals (who were also the jury pool) by "donating" things to Marshall, like the skating rink Samsung bought for the town.

https://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/why-south-korea-s-samsung-built-the-only-outdoor-skating-rink-in-texas

Patent, like copyright, is supposed to serve a public purpose. There are only two clauses in the US Constitution that come with explanations (the rest being "truths held to be self-evident"): the Second Amendment and the "Progress Clause" that creates patents and copyrights.

Famously, the Second Amendment says you can bear arms as part of a "well-regulated militia."

And the Progress Clause? It extends to Congress the power to create patents and copyrights "to promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts."

I'm with Apple in its ire over this judgment. Sending $308.5m to a "closely held" patent troll has nothing to do with the "Progress of Science and useful Arts."

But it has *everything* to do with IP.

If copyright law can let Apple criminalize - literally criminalize - you selling me If copyright law can let Apple criminalize - literally criminalize - you selling me your copyrighted work, then there's no reason to hate on patent trolls.

They're just doing what trolls do: blocking the bridge between someone engaged in useful work and the customers for that work, and extracting a toll. It's not even 30%.

There is especial and delicious irony in the fact that the patent in question is a DRM patent: a patent for the very same process that Apple uses to lock down its devices and prevent creators from selling to customers without paying the 30% Apple Tax.

But even without that, it's as good an example of what an IP marketplace looks like: one in which making things becomes a liability. After all, the more you make, the more chances there are for an IP owner to demand tax from you to take it to market.

The only truly perfect IP is the naked IP of a patent troll, the bare right to sue, a weapon made from pure abstract legal energy, untethered from any object, product or service that might be vulnerable to another IP owner's weapons.

A coda: you may recall that Apple doesn't use DRM on its music anymore: you can play Itunes music on any device. That wasn't a decision Apple took voluntarily: it was forced into it by a competitor: Amazon, an unlikely champion of user rights.

In 2007, the record labels had figured out that Apple had lured them into a trap, selling millions of dollars worth of music that locked both listeners and labels into the Itunes ecosystem.

In a desperate bid for freedom, they agreed to help Amazon launch its MP3 store - all the same music, at the same prices...without DRM. Playable on an Ipod, but also on any other device.

Prior to the Amazon MP3 store, the market was all DRM: you could either buy Apple's DRM music and play it on your Ipod, or you could buy other DRM music and play it on a less successful device.

The Amazon MP3 store (whose motto was "DRM: Don't Restrict Me") changed that to "Buy Apple DRM music and play it on your Ipod, or buy Amazon music and play it anywhere." That was the end of Apple music DRM.

So why hasn't anyone done this for the apps that Apple extracts the 30% tax on? IP. If you made a phone that could play Ios apps, Apple would sue you:

https://gizmodo.com/judge-tosses-apple-lawsuit-against-iphone-emulator-in-b-1845967318

And if you made a device that let you load non-App Store apps on an Iphone, Apple would also sue you.

Apple understands IP. It learned the lesson of the Amazon MP3 store, and it is committed to building a world where every creator pays a tax to reach every Apple customer.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Sicktember prompt 15: Quarantine

With John and Gordon.

Last Choice

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: John, Gordon

Virgil would have been the best choice. Alan would probably have been bearable enough. Scott would have been agitating. Gordon was just a nightmare. @sicktember prompt 15: Quarantine

Not actually anything by way of 'sick' in this one - all my brain jumped to for 'quarantine' was relevant to current events, and I don't want to write that, so I didn't. So instead we just have two brothers forced into cohabitation for a while.

Sicktember 2021 Prompts - Somehow we’re most of the way through the month and I still have one or two in my inbox. I’ve added a list of what’s been done already and what’s sitting as a not-yet written request to the original prompt post if anyone wants to pick any of the remaining prompts, and yes, the alt. prompts are also fair game!

“I,” his brother declared in the exact manner that promised an imminent headache, “am bored.”

John sank deeper into the soft pillows of the couch in their assigned room and pretended he hadn’t heard him as he turned a page in the book he was re-reading for the seventh time. In all honesty, he could understand where Gordon was coming from; for a place that insisted that none of its temporary inhabitants leave their quarters, the entertainment provided was shockingly lacking.

Even the wifi was awful, so the tablet he’d brought with him had been eventually abandoned on the glass coffee table after John had realised the problem wasn’t one he could troubleshoot with the technology he had on hand – no, it was a case of a dodgy wire somewhere, and their hosts had given the exact same response to his complaint that he was now giving to Gordon’s complaint.

He did, somewhere in his heart, love all of his brothers. As far as families went, he was well aware that he and his brothers were unusually close and tight-knit, especially considering how many of them there were and the age range they covered. However, when it came to being confined in a single area for two weeks after being accidentally exposed to a potentially dangerous contaminant, there were very few of his siblings that he would choose to spend that time with.

Gordon was at the absolute bottom of that list.

Virgil would have been his brother of choice – quiet, considerate, and perfectly capable of entertaining himself without disturbing John for hours at a time yet also a source of intelligent conversation. About as ideal as company was possible to be under the circumstances.

If the internet was working as it should, Alan would also have been acceptable enough. John might have found himself dragged into a few hours per day of gaming, but as a general rule the virtual world could keep his youngest brother entertained for weeks, provided he wasn’t interrupted. In quarantine, interruptions were unlikely to be frequent.

Scott would have been agitating. John was well aware what sharing a room with his big brother entailed, and while Scott ranked at least as highly as Virgil when it came to respecting John’s wishes and finding his own entertainment, his sole older brother craved the outside world. The longer Scott was cooped up, the more unbearable he became; by the end of the first few days, he would literally have been climbing the walls.

A cooped-up Gordon was even worse. Their accommodation had a pool – but it was off-limits, leaving the family fish high and dry and immensely displeased about it. John couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother’s hair without a crusting of either chlorine or sea salt; to say it was jarring was an understatement.

Forced to find other entertainment – something their accommodation, as previously stated, was rather lacking in – Gordon had first turned to his default. Stuttering, buffering streams of Into the Unknown had blared out on repeat until his brother had grown fed up of Buddy being interrupted mid-word as the wifi dropped out again. The silence when he’d given up and turned off the device had been heavenly, if short-lived.

The book selection was sparse enough that even John had struggled to find anything worth reading. Decades old romances with battered and dog-eared pages dominated the minute collection, something neither of them had much of a desire to read, although Gordon had got desperate enough to flick through one of them for approximately two minutes before tossing it on the floor and face-planting the couch with an agitated groan. John’s current selection was historical fantasy – still a far cry from his wheelhouse, but bearable enough in a pinch.

That being said, by the time they were considered safe to leave, he was never going to want to see Song of Albion again.

“John,” Gordon repeated, bringing his unwilling attention back to the brother stuck in the same predicament as him. “I’m bored.”

Any attempts at ignoring him a second time were scuppered by the way the cushions of the couch abruptly sagged and a blond shock of hair rudely inserted itself between his face and Llew’s current situation. The scent of hotel-issue strawberry shampoo assaulted his nostrils with its unfamiliarity.

“And what do you expect me to do about it?” he asked, relocating the book so that there was no longer a brother’s head in the way of the words, although it left the pages close enough to his nose that the neatly typed font blurred into something barely legible.

“Be interesting,” his brother insisted.

He must have really been desperate. John was well aware that, just as Gordon was his last choice for a forced confinement companion, the same was true the other way around. No doubt if he had his way, Gordon would be stuck with Alan – two troublemakers often on the same wavelength. The integrity of the room would be certainly questionable by the time they were released, but at least they’d keep each other entertained. If they didn’t fall out and tear each other apart.

Failing Alan, his next choice would likely be Virgil, although Virgil would probably disagree with that; he put up with Gordon quite enough in transit between danger zones and home, after all. Scott would also be a fitting choice, at least in John’s opinion – the two of them could bounce off of the walls together.

John wouldn’t even register on his preferences – and now he wanted him to be interesting?

“Since when do I ever interest you?” he pointed out, pushing his shoulders further into the cushions to get enough space between his nose and the book.

“Don’t be like that,” Gordon huffed, yanking himself upright and fidgeting his way into the cushions. “Who else gives me a challenge when we play chess?”

John could concede that point, he supposed, but, “we don’t have a chess board.”

“Noooo,” Gordon confirmed, but the way he drew out the end of the word implied there was about to be a “but” coming. “But we have pieces!” His departure from the couch was as sudden as his arrival had been.

John hadn’t seen anything of the sort, but even if they had pieces, they still needed a board.

Besides, chess alone wasn’t going to get them through the rest of their enforced quarantine – they were only on day two of fourteen as it was.

Watching Gordon rummage around through the drawers in the room, much like he’d done on their first day, did, however, prove marginally more entertaining than re-reading any more of the same Stephen Lawhead book for the time being. Even more fascinating – in a slightly incredulous fashion – were the so-called ‘pieces’ being tossed into a haphazard pile on the presumably once-plush carpet.

No expenses had been spared for their accommodation. At least the couch and beds were soft enough to be comfortable.

Whatever Gordon was throwing onto the old and worn carpet was definitely not a chess set, by any stretch of the imagination. No, they were horrid plastic pen lids, present in a wide array of colours and a couple of different styles.

One that looked like it might have once been olive rolled away from the pile and bumped into John’s foot. The colour was not particularly appealing, but he found himself leaning down to pick it up regardless. The cap itself was a uniform width the entire length, with regularly spaced ridges and divots running down them, presumably to aid with grip during its former life as an active pen lid, rather than some discarded junk in the back of a drawer.

“So, you’ll take ridges and I’ll take smooth?” Gordon asked, startling John as he popped up in front of him. The pile of pen lids – no pens themselves in sight – clattered together where they were clustered in his cupped hands.

“These aren’t chess pieces,” John felt compelled to point out. Gordon – junk-loving Gordon –shrugged.

“Just use your imagination,” he dismissed. “See – this red one’s a rusty old knight, that purple one’s a regal queen, and that green one’s a pious bishop!”

Each tacky, plastic thing was deliberately placed on the glass table as he spoke, producing a dull tink upon contact.

Was John bored enough to play a game of chess using ancient pen lids that were probably a long way past the end of their plastic lifespan?

“We don’t have a board,” he pointed out again. Gordon rolled his eyes.

“Imagination, John. Or improvisation.” He brandished a marker that he’d presumably found in the same drawer as their bizarre chess armies before popping off the lid and drawing straight onto the table.

The marker was a navy blue, leaving messy streaks and fading in and out as the ink protested its first use in what was likely years. John should probably be the responsible big brother and stop Gordon from vandalising the table – the marker looked suspiciously like one of the permanent variety – but, well, he was bored, too.

Their hosts should have supplied a better selection of entertainment – or at least reliable wifi – if they didn’t want them getting creative.

John set the book down on the couch, not bothering to save his place or even memorise the number – what was the point if he’d already memorised the book – and started to sort through the pen lids, picking out the ridged ones and mentally designating which one would correspond to which piece.

Chess would not keep them occupied for another twelve days, but it would at least suffice for a few hours. They’d work something else out later.

[fenristheorem]

Hi!^^

Could you make a hc about Lance and Guardian first date? 👀

Hello! This ask turned into a bit of a headcanon / scenario hybrid, I hope you don’t mind! It’s was so tempting to write in-depth about so many things through this that I couldn’t stop myself lol.

Also, I put a couple of my own headcanons on Lance’s dragon form in here because we know basically nothing except how he looks.

~Under the cut~

Lance and Guardienne's first date:

Guardienne may have been the first one to show interest in advancing their relationship from friends to partners (since Lance was very hesitant to do that as he feels he doesn’t deserve it after everything he’s done), but Lance will take it upon himself to initiate the first date after she clearly has interest, and he won’t take it lightly.

His seriousness about this is due to two main reasons: the instinctual nature of being a dragon - which includes all the courtship instincts that are a part of his people’s culture - and the belief that she truly deserves to be taken seriously.

Lance may not have been raised by his people, but dragons are feral creatures by nature and, therefore, instincts are a prominent part of their life. The knowledge that she’s agreeing to date him will be translated into a very basic idea within those instincts: she’s allowing him to court her. There - of course - will be more to their relationship than just Lance trying to court her, but this idea merely shows what instincts will be active through the beginning of their relationship until they’re both sure they want to be together long-term. The point of having courtship instincts is to show a potential mate that said dragon is competent at providing, protecting, and caring for their love interest, so that’s exactly what Lance plans to do. These instincts - combined with knowing her personality and interests - will help him to think of things he can find, plan, or do for her that are specifically chosen because he believes she’ll like it. He wants to show her that he is an ideal mate for her, so he’ll keep trying to prove that relentlessly until they both have confirmed their affection for each other over and over again, in which case Lance will still keep providing and caring for her, but will be less aggressive about it. These instincts also act as a major impulse control for Lance, and this can be either harmful or beneficial for him. They can influence in-the-moment decisions, especially with physical touch, like whether or not he kisses her in one moment or how he chooses to hold her. This can be harmful in the manner where he may pressure her past her boundaries a bit by accident - unknowingly trying to prove how deep his want for her is and being caught up in the moment and his own physical feelings so he’s rendered unable to immediately realize her discomfort unless she makes a clear gesture that she’s not yet interested. The last thing Lance wants it to make her uncomfortable, so he’ll try to keep from doing something unless it’s relatively clear that she’ll react positively to it, but from that thought, this can also be greatly beneficial as it allows him to recognize things that he - or other men - may otherwise overlook. There may be a moment where she’s interested in possibly initiating something, but may be too shy to actually take the first step. He’s very detail orientated, so he’ll likely notice this subtle change in how she acts as she ponders a thought, and can instinctually recognize a few changes in her physical being - like glancing from his eyes to his lips, initiating a few kind but somewhat unnecessary touches, unknowingly accentuating a few attractive parts of her body, and even going as far as detecting a faint change in scent when she’s aroused (although, that last one will come a bit later in the relationship). Sometimes Lance will purposely tamp down any instinctual habits for the sake of proper self-control and not needing to second-guess any action that may actually make her uncomfortable, but usually when Lance detects a few signs that she’s heavily interested in him in the moment - and it’s clearly romantic interest, not interest in just the conversation topic - those instincts will unravel and he won’t be able to stop himself from immediately leaning forward to steal her lips in a kiss.

These instincts overall are very serious to him, and he doesn’t intend to take her courtship lightly - after all, his actions and his manner with her will influence how her feelings develop with him, and that’s influenced by how his instincts effect him in this situation. However, that doesn’t mean he’ll go out of his way to change for her or do things (that he may not like, especially) just because he thinks she’ll like it. If his instincts are continuously telling him to do things that she’s not liking, then perhaps they’re not as compatible as he’d like to think. He’s willing to give her things that are influenced by his instincts that she’ll surely like, but if he needs to think and act differently than who he is, then their relationship will be based off a lie, and he’s not about to base any part of his life - or someone else’s life that concerns him - off of a lie made solely to please.

He’s also taking this date seriously because he feels it would disrespectful of him to not take it seriously. This is a given regardless of who it is, but he feels it applies with her even more than it would with anyone else due to this reasoning: Lance has tried to kill her in the past - multiple times - and he tried to kill her friends and destroy the world that she loves so dearly. So not only would it be disrespectful in general to waste her time with a date that isn’t well planned or thought out, but it would be incredibly disrespectful to the point of being truly unforgivable if he did all of those horrible things and then tried to win her affections by thinking that a shallow, poorly thought out date would even begin to be acceptable in proving that he’s an ideal man for the savior of Eldarya. It takes the idea of wasting her time and thinking poorly of her intelligence and self-worth to a whole new level - and Lance is not about to risk that in any way. This is the woman who actually managed to put up a fight against him (hopeless, but he gives her credit for trying because she believed in her reasoning), who saved Eldarya, and is now moving past bitter old emotions to begin considering taking her past sworn enemy as her future lover. She has gained his respect in a multitude of ways, so there is no way that he’s going to take their first date lightly.

That being said, he struggles for a few days planning what he wants to do with her. He did ask her if there was anything in specific she’d like to do - only for her to say that there was nothing in particular, so all the planning was on him. Lance wants a good balance of including things she likes and would appreciate while also adding in his own interests. He believes that their first date should reflect how he thinks their relationship would manifest - and what he would like it to be and what he thinks she’d like it to be - while being conscious that this will be the first glimpse into a possible intimate life with each other, which can be off putting at first, so he thinks of everything that that would include and / or influence; food, entertainment, traveling, talking, etc. It was a good thing he told her prior to expect to be with him the whole day as he eventually finds himself needing to carefully manage and plan things to assure the date will go as he hopes, otherwise the rest of the day wouldn’t be very ideal. He’s sure to have a few back-up plans, though, just in case something does go awry so the date isn’t a total failure.

Guardienne knows absolutely nothing about what he’s planning, the only thing he told her is to take the whole day off and wear something comfortable yet functional that she isn’t afraid to get dirty. This almost scares her, and for a while she wonders what she got herself into by saying yes to his offer - after all, Lance has always had a creative mind with their “adventures” in the past - but she will admit that she does trust him now, and she follows his advice when the day of their date comes.

Lance is sure to give Huang Hua a few day’s warning about his day off and who he’s leaving in charge that day - she raises an eyebrow and grins the slightest bit when he mentions the exact day he needs to take off, but doesn’t ask any questions - and rises early on the day of their date to meet Guardienne in the Dinning Hall at the time they agreed on.

Now Karuto doesn’t like Lance at all much, and the dragon knows this, so when he originally asked the chef to prepare a few special meals he was turned down very quickly. But then he mentioned that it’s for Guardienne as well...

“Oh? You want me to prepare a special meal for her for you? Ha! Why?”

“Well... we intend to spend the day together so I want to be sure she has a nice time, and you’re cooking is excellent, Karuto. I know Guardienne really appreciates your food, and I don’t want to take any risks of things going wrong, so I was thinking that if we could have a breakfast and dinner at the dinning hall, and a lunch to go, that would be a definite way to begin to make sure she has a nice time.”

Karuto’s ladle clattered to the floor as the Satyr whipped his head around to look Lance dead in the eye, a dumbstruck expression on his face - almost looking as though he’s seen a ghost. Lance met his gaze evenly, expecting this reaction. He knew the chef didn’t like him that much, he didn’t blame him, but he hoped that Karuto could perhaps bless him with this favor for Guardienne’s sake.

“You mean... you have a date with her?” Karuto’s voice was faintly high pitched, reconfirming just how shocked he was. Lance shifted a bit, glancing to the ground as he did before meeting his gaze again.

“Ah, well... yes. So I’d really like things to go well. And try to keep this on the down-low. This is our first date and I think everything would go better overall if it didn’t spread like wildfire through the guard just yet.”

Karuto’s facial features softened a bit as he listened, picking up the ladle and shuffling to throw it in the sink before fishing another from one of the various hooks along the wall and returning to the pot on the stove.

“...Well, I suppose I can’t say no... and... - ahm - congrats? I’ll be sure to keep quiet about this, I guess, for her sake. Now what are you thinking of for the meals?” Karuto still looked quite surprised, but there was a sincerity in his expression and tone that Lance trusted, and he promptly thanked Karuto for doing him this favor. However, the Satyr also made sure to give him the full version of “if you try anything with her and I hear of it, I’ll personally make your life hell.” Lance quickly realizes that Karuto really likes her, and assures him he won’t do anything she doesn’t want. It doesn’t really seem to convince the chef, but he also probably realizes that there’s nothing he can do to stop this. Guardienne can be just as stubborn as the dragon, after all, and she’s already said yes to this.

Fortunately, Karuto kept his word and prepared a special breakfast for the both of them - Lance quickly noticed that his was prepared with quality as well, although the chef gave him a sharp look - and Guardienne soon realized that their breakfast was different than what was being served to others as they settled into a quiet corner of the hall. Lance - somewhat sheepishly - admitted that he’d asked a special favor from Karuto, and Guardienne grinned appreciatively at this.

When they were finished, Lance retrieved the lunches - nodding in thanks to Karuto as he did, the chef still giving him a meaningful look - and stored them in the small travel bag he packed, heading out of the guard with Guardienne to lead her to the open plains.

The next part of his plan was a bit shifty. It’s always possible that she could back out or become uncomfortable, but he feels - despite his anxiousness - that this should be how things are done. If Guardienne at any point became uncomfortable, then he would immediately yield to her wishes, but he really hoped she didn’t. He believes this is where their date can truly begin, and he hopes that she has enough faith in him to follow his plans.

He dropped the bag on the ground and turned to her, leveling a calm stare on her as she tilted her head in curiosity.

“You’ve never rode a dragon, correct?”

“I hope that’s not an innuendo.” She cracks a smile and raises a brow as she looks at him, he grins slyly in return. 

“No - not this time at least.” He can play the game of wit. Guardienne’s smile grows before falling, a faint trace of wistful mourning crossing her expression.

“But, actually I have. Your brother, during the war...” Lance remembered that and his grin dropped, but this was something different. That was into war, when neither were paying attention to the actual experience and were focused on preserving their lives. He needed to know if she actually experienced seeing the world from a dragon’s eye view.

“Yes, I know that, but have you actually rode a dragon and been able to focus on the experience? Flying into war is very different than flying for leisure.”

“No, I haven’t experienced that...” She looked intently at him now, understanding where he was leading the topic.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes... I trust you.” Her eyes met his steadily as she responds. Everything is going as he hoped so far.

Whisps of white and cerulean blue shifted around Lance as he began shifting into his dragon form, stretching his wings out and lifting his head towards the sky to adjust once fully transformed before taking a few steps towards her as Guardienne picked up the travel bag. She admired the beautiful rippling of crystalline blue and snow white scales as he sauntered towards her before crouching down and lowering his neck. Sudden nervousness swept over Guardienne - he was certainly big, easily close to 10 feet tall - if not taller - with a thick, muscular form, but she never actually had the chance to think about riding a dragon before doing so, and that realization seemed intimidating to her now. Will she just hang onto the ice-like horns that adorn his upper neck? Won’t her weight be tiring for him in time? What about her legs, where should she put them? Could he really lift her weight into the air as easily as he seems to think?

Lance took notice of her hesitance and tilted his head and neck to look at her with a piercing eye, watching her as she stared for a moment.

“I...”

“I understand this may seem daunting. If you feel you can trust this, I would recommend doing so - I have wonderful things planned for us - but I won’t force you. I have backup plans closer to the guard if you feel you’re not ready for this.” Lance’s heart twists a bit - he really wanted to do this with her. This was really the only possible hindrance, if she could just get past this and trust him...

“No, it’s fine. I just... how do I hold on?” Guardienne quickly snaps to and laughs a bit, securing the travel bag to her and lifting a leg to straddle his lower neck. She placed her hands on his neck for a moment before curiously running her hands along his scales. Such a wonderful texture...

A purr rumbles from the dragons chest as he relaxes, pleased that she was agreeing with this.

“Hang on to the horns around my neck and wrap your legs around me - be sure to dig your heels in, it’ll help stabilize you.”

Guardienne did as told and instinctively leaned forward on his neck, clinging close to dear life.

“When we’re up in the air you can re-adjust your grip a bit to be more comfortable. Are you ready?” Lance raised his neck from the ground and Guardienne braced herself, already feeling unsettlingly high in the air - but she knew she wanted this.

“Yea.”

Lance tilted his head towards the sky again and spread his wings wide, leaping from the ground to hover for a moment before his wings scored through the air with a loud, windy woosh. Guardienne watched as his wings folded a bit, his scales shimmering beautifully in the sunlight, before stretching out and falling upon the air again. With every down stroke of his wings, Lance’s head and neck raised into the air a bit, the rest of his body following the rippling motion as he climbed higher in the air and gained speed.

Guardienne dared not look down as they rose above the trees, instead hunkering down a bit to press herself closer to the ice dragon. They were heading higher than she’s ever been while riding another creature - and while she did trust Lance, it still unsettled her greatly knowing how far their drop would be if he were thrown off balance and unable to recover. But he has years of experience of flying, she reminded herself. It was unlikely for him to lose control of himself.

Lance could sense a bit of her anxiety and shifted his wing pattern, smoothing out his climb to be more steady and less aggressive in how he moved. Guardienne fortunately seemed to lose some of her worries as he climbed with more subtle movements, and just as she relaxed a bit he shifted his pattern again. They were high enough in the sky now to where Lance just needed to change direction to head towards their destination, so he leveled out in the sky, letting his wings glide through the air.

Guardienne shifted the slightest bit as he leveled out, making sure she had a good grip, and caught sight of the ground below while doing so - but contrary to how terrifying she thought it would feel when seeing it from this distance, it was actually beautiful.

Trees dotted the ground, forming into masses of liquid dark green forests against the pale green of soft grass while blue-silver rivers - the color of moondust - meandered through grass and forest alike, dipping to disappear among trees before emerging again at a very separate location. Dark grey boulders dotted along the rivers and streams, and the occasional creature bolted along the plains as it ran from the shadow of the mighty entity flying above it.

She remained entranced at the landscape below as Lance tilted slightly, gliding elegantly through the air as he banked into a turn. Something of a purr rumbled from his chest as Guardienne leaned against him more, faintly adjusting her grip to hold higher on his horns so she could lean closer to him while admiring the ground.

“The land is much nicer from the air, isn’t it?” Lance called out to her as he tilted his head to glance at her, relief welling in his chest when he noted the starry-eyed gaze Guardienne wore as she looked at the ground.

“It’s beautiful!” Her tone will filled with awe, no hint of nervousness appearing anywhere in her energy anymore. He knew she would love this, she just had to push past the fear.

As they flew, Guardienne became more and more comfortable with flying, eventually allowing herself to sit somewhat upright so she can get a wider view of the great expanse of land stretching endlessly beneath them rather than what’s directly below them. It reminded her a lot of when she flew on airplanes, but this was much more free and wild.

Mountain ranges dotted the distance one way - tall, grey and monumental in the face of all the specks of trees and strings of rivers - and thicker forest canopy darkened the forest in some deeper parts of the trees. Open plains flowed beneath them and, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw the deep blue of the ocean behind them, growing further and further away. She basked in the view as Lance glided through the air, and Guardienne came to realize that properly riding a dragon isn’t half as worrisome as she originally thought.

She looked ahead and saw a murky, grey-blue expanse approaching from among the trees and plains - immediately recognizing it as a large lake dotted with large, jutting boulders - and beyond that a small cliff. It was as though a small mountain once stood there, but half was taken and replaced by a lake, leaving the other half a jagged, rocky outcrop against the bright sky as it led further back to sloping plains.

Lance dived faintly, gliding softly downward as they approached the lake. For a moment Guardienne’s thoughts filled with alarm as he seemed to intend to send them straight into the water, and she was about to open her mouth to express her concerns when he tilted his wings a few feet away from the surface and stopped their decline just before the water.

Instead, Guardienne’s breath was taken away from her as she looked into the lake, their reflection mirrored beautifully in the deep blue as they glided mere feet away from the surface of the still water, wakes rippling through as they passed by from the airflow of the dragon she rode. Lance tilted himself just slightly, turning their path to allow the edge of his wing to just faintly brush the surface with a soft hiss as water sprayed out behind. However, left upon the surface in the wake from his wing was a long trail of glittering, cloudy ice - spiked along the edges as it froze the rippling water during it’s impact against the dragon’s wing. She watched in fascination the ice trail that followed them, suddenly wondering how the water felt, and pressed her front completely against Lance as she leaned down. Gripping him tightly with her hand and legs, she took a calming breath and leaned slightly to his side, reaching to the lake. 

Lance tilted his head to look at her again and straightened out, letting them drop closer until he was a risk of sending them straight into the water if he glided any lower. Fortunately, this was all the decline Guardienne needed, and the tips of her fingers brushed through the surface; cold and grating against her skin at their speed - but spraying out in a similar fashion as the water that had sprayed from Lance’s wing - and leaving her breathless from the experience.

The start of an astonished laugh bubbled from her chest before she leaned completely back, readjusting her grip again as she looked across the water on both sides. Exhilaration flowed through her bones and veins as she took in their speed in comparison to the lake and trees along the bank, and she let out a full laugh as she threw her head back to the sky, letting the wind whip over her skin as she embraced the experience of truly riding a dragon. 

Joy bubbled within Lance as he took in her chiming laugh, and as they began to near the occasional large boulder jutting from the lake water he pondered the next part of his plan again. Hopefully she was in the mood for an even more thrilling ride...

He came up upon the first boulder, emerging many feet above the water and shifted his wings again, tilting them to soar upwards and give a flap to keep their speed as he fluently arced above the boulder, letting himself glide slowly down again and targeting two boulders near to each other next. He arced over one again and dived safely above the water, spreading his wings and banking into a sharp, drifting turn to swerve around the second rock. Guardienne shifted on his lower neck as he moved, flattening herself to him and adjusting her balance slightly when needed. When they were level above the water again, approaching their last chance to safely fly away from the approaching cliff, Lance glanced back toward Guardienne to find her studying the immense, jagged rise. She locked her gaze with his one eye, giving a wild grin as she adjusted herself and held on tighter.

Lance knew that she knew his intent, and her grin and tightening grip was all he needed to know that she wanted in on this experience, so he rose slightly above the lake again to beat his wings and gain speed as he scanned the cliff for the best path.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” Guardienne called to him, leaning with him as he tilted to avoid a large rock with an overhanging arch. They passed under it and a crumbling sounded from behind them. She looked back in time to see a fair part of that arch crumble from where they just passed under and splash into the water. Suddenly she was harshly reminded that the landscape could shift due to the wind currents from the dragon, and they don’t have any control over it. Her gaze turned to look at Lance again as he looked back to her.

“If I can fight in the air then I can navigate through cliff sides, and this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve flown through rocky outcrops or forests. Be sure to keep a tight grip, though, this’ll require finessing.”

Guardienne trusted his experience with this, so she nodded her head and gave him a trusting grin - he wouldn’t be doing this if he felt he couldn’t execute it.

Lance turned back to study the sloping cliff and the rocky lake before it again, finding an ideal path upward, and steadied his wings to prepare for the sudden moment where he would enact his first movement. 

Guardienne held onto him, anticipation making her heart race as she studied the rocks as well.

And then Lance banked harshly to the side, heading towards a large, thin ridge rising out of the water that was crumbling on one side.

He tilted back, rising into the air and closing quickly in on the ridge top before arcing himself tightly over it. Nearly immediately on the other side was another jutting formation, and - as he was gliding downward - his wings shifted and he rose his head and neck to the sky to begin to slow their descent and climb again, then tilted nearly vertical to the side to veer around the formation, bringing them closer to the immense cliff edge now nearly directly above them. Lance soared along the length of cliff for a moment, level with the water now as he spotted an arch adjoining the cliff. He glided to it and folded his wings safely in for a moment as they passed through before flicking his wings open on the other side and immediately banked upwards into the sky.

Guardienne held on tight, pressing herself close to Lance as he easily - gracefully - maneuvered around rocks and overhangs, climbing up the cliff at a soaring speed without bringing them too close to risk any harm, but still close enough to feel the humbleness of realizing how small they still are in comparison to the massive stones. Her head swung wildly around, watching the stones they drifted around and embracing the breathtaking view of the water receding below them. Lance dived and arced and rolled in the air, rising and falling as he maneuvered the cliff. Guardienne diligently held herself close to him, doing her best to adjust herself in subtle ways that might make his flying easier for him while embracing the beauty of the light reflecting off of water below and the shadows cast over them as they soared beneath rock formations.

Guardienne looked towards the sky again as Lance soared along the cliff - noticing that they were about rise over the crest - and leaned her head against his neck gently, silently thanking him for the wonderful, thrilling experience he gave her. They rushed past the peak and kept their fast incline upward to let the speed die out on its own, and Guardienne took the chance to look around as they gided. Light shimmered beautifully off streams through muted green grasslands and forests, similar to where they just came from, but large, silver-grey rock formations jutted out of the ground here, like the boulders in the lake. A feeling of calm content rolled through Guardienne as she surveyed the landscape and rested against the dragon, breathing in the fresh air around them as it breezed by her. She almost wanted to cry from the beauty of the landscape and the experience of freely riding a dragon, understanding completely now exactly why Lance wanted to share this with her. This was something that couldn’t possibly be rivaled by any other experience.

They flew peacefully for only a few minutes longer before Lance glided to a slow stop just a few feet above the top of a hill, reaching out with his hind legs to plant firmly on the grass and lean down so Guardienne could dismount. He checked in on her after shifting back to his human form, trying to get a read on her opinion of the ride, only to be pleasantly surprised when she smiled and laughed, rambling about the humbling feeling of rising above the great earth to dance around it’s formations and soar the skies above it. Fortunately, the flying part of the date was also the most questionable - the most likely thing that would make Guardienne regret her choice - but just as Lance expected and planned for, she enjoyed the thrill instead.

Lance didn’t really have much planned after that to be honest, despite the aggressive way he worried about the plans. He intended for a few specific things to come up during their date, but from here it was really just walking and talking until encountering the right scenario for it. However, he did know roughly where he was and where they needed to go for them to spend the next few hours, so he kindly took the travel bag from her and they headed off in the direction he set, keeping a relaxed pace as they trekked over the hills and rock formations towards the forests around them. 

They talked about anything and everything as they walked - although Guardienne was particularly interested in his dragon powers after what she just experienced, and Lance was more than happy to give her all the information she wished for. He kept a close eye on her as they walked as well, darting out to stabilize her when she stumbled over a root or vine and making sure she had a clear path through any poisonous plants so they wouldn’t brush against her. He didn’t want their time together to end early because she had gotten hurt - of which she had a wonderful record of doing.

They came across a river after a while of walking - slow moving and clear enough that they could see the vibrant fish and other aquatic creatures scuffling around beneath the surface. Guardienne knelt next to the water’s edge to watch the display while Lance settled next to her, leaning forward to watch as well while thinking that he could have decided to hunt for her and cook his catch instead of just asking Karuto to create a lunch. However, this was their first date, and Lance was partially prepared for the possibility where she didn’t end up enjoying it as much as she was enjoying it currently. With that in mind, he let the thought pass over him without any regrets - Karuto’s cooking was a sure way to have her enjoy their lunch out here when her final opinions of everything else could still vary - and marked it down as a thought for a later date if she was interested.

“They’re so colorful.” Guardienne smiled and dipped a finger into the water. The creatures in the vicinity of her finger scattered, rushing up or downstream or crawling along the bottom of the stream. A small, regretful grimace came to her face at seeing the reaction, dejectedly pulling her finger out of the water.

“I guess they’re as skittish as the fish back on Earth.” A minor, guilty smile came to her face as she looked at Lance, who grinned gently back and let out an amused huff, leaning his shoulder against her’s softly. Guardienne leaned into him as well and turned back to the expanse of the river, watching as creatures slowly returned from their hiding places. She glanced down the length of the river, recalling what she learned about Lance’s abilities earlier.

“Could you freeze over this whole river? Turn the whole thing into ice?” She asked curiously, wondering exactly the extent of his powers. Lance smiled at her before taking her hand in his.

“Probably, but I much more enjoy doing things like this.” He took her hand in his, his larger palm over the back of her small hand, and dipped their fingers into the water. The creatures - ruffled again from the intrusion into their domain - spread out again, but Guardienne was more interested this time in the pure white, feathery substance that began to spread across the surface of the water, originating from their hands. It looked like frost that spiraled out onto the water in every which way. As the water grew slightly colder - a sharp contrast to the striking warmth of Lance’s hand on hers - a few of the tendrils branched back towards them and crawled along the bank of the river, slipping up to slink across a few plants in it’s path.

Guardienne found herself entranced by the beauty of the living frost, even reaching down to the water with her other hand to brush her fingertips along the thin, fragile swirls. They were cold and hard to the touch, but a small amount of pressure applied made the frost dip under her fingers before she backed away. It was definitely thin and fragile; something beautiful to look at but not to touch.

She leaned against Lance a bit more without speaking, enjoying the quiet, beautiful moment they were sharing. He ran the pad of his thumb over the outer side of hers kindly.

Some time later they were moving again, trekking through light forests that were shifting into rollings hills and flatland. Guardienne savored the light breeze and warm sun as it traveled across the land and brushed her skin. It was a good thing that the weather was nice, otherwise Lance would have needed to change his plans. Guardienne was truly enjoying the date so far - if she knew what this date would be like beforehand, only for it to be changed by the weather, she would have been severely disappointed. However, this brought the thought of what Lance would have done if they couldn’t have gotten this far into the date.

As they walked, they discussed Lance’s backup plans, revealing that he - in the event of bad weather or something else restricting his original plans - would have then opted to spend the day with her in one of their rooms, probably his, or possibly have spent time somewhere else. If the weather wasn’t too bad - just a small bit of rain or something - then he would have even considered taking her to sit underneath the Cherry Tree to spend time in silence together. Frankly, he had a lot of things in mind that they could have done, it just would have depended on her mood and the weather.

They talked for a while until they encountered a shallow ravine, and Lance put his arm out to stop her, staring intently at the pointy, vibrant colored plants that dusted the bottom. He grabbed a nearby branch and stuck one end into the ravine - sinking a few feet into the plants before hitting solid ground - and continued to do the same motion as he walked alongside the dip, poking the stick against the ground every few feet as it hit at a slowly quickening pace. Guardienne watched with interest as Lance continued to walk further before he turned to her with a faint grin and a raised eyebrow.

“I hope you don’t intend to stand there all day. It’ll be easier to cross when the dip is more shallow.”

He turned back to testing the depth and walking as Guardienne snapped out of her watching, a grin making it’s way to her face as she began to follow him. The stick reached only a foot or two deep into the ravine now.

“I don’t know, I was thinking I would stand there until you decided to carry me across like a princess. Add a new twist to the typical story of a princess being kidnapped by a fearsome dragon, you know?” She spoke in a humored tone, turning her gaze away for a moment to look at their surroundings, only to begin to turn her attention back to him when she heard the thump of the stick falling to the ground.

She let out a surprised squeak as she suddenly found herself off the ground, leaning back and being pulled to Lance’s chest as he picked her up with ease. Her hands found holds within his armor to cling to him as he began heading towards the ravine.

“Lance! What are you doing!?” She laughed as she clung to him, pleasantly shocked at his sudden actions.

“Well fortunately the kidnapping part is over, so now this age-old, horrifying tale can be continued in a lighter manner - per se with the beautiful princess being protected by said fearsome dragon from potentially poisonous plants. It’s better if only one of us trek through this instead of both.” He spoke in a light tone as well, a smirk on his face as he glanced over to meet her gaze quickly. The reminder of the kidnapping - and his past overall - weren’t a usually pleasant memory, yet somehow she made it easy to pass over, even joke about on occasion.

“Hey, I probably could have carried you.” Gaurdienne laughs as she says this, looking up at him with a humorous but fierce gaze. Lance found himself shaking with laughter as well.

“I’d like to see you try!” 

He sets her down gently on the other side of the ravine, keeping a hand on her hip as she finds stable footing along the slope and rocks before they head off again, talking and joking with each other all the while.

Lance certainly begins to open up as they walk, and Guardienne’s time with him turns less from a date with the man who once tried to kill her - and who’s loyalty she questions sometimes - to an enjoyable hang-out with someone who might as well have been an old friend. They find themselves laughing about many different things and carrying witty conversations together, occasionally broken by Lance adding in small informational bits regarding things they pass by that Guardienne comments on.

Eventually the forest is left behind them and they start their hike across rolling, wide pastures, the wind breezing through the tall grass as they climbed their way up a sloping hill. A strong wind current hit Guardienne at the top before calming as she looked at the land around them.

A beautiful river curled around the base of the hill, and a small lake sat off not too far in the distance, leading further to forest again. Clouds still dotted the sky, with no storm in sight.

“Are you hungry?” Guardienne turned her attention back to Lance as he spoke, glancing up to note the sun’s position in the sky. It was high above them, but was noticeably starting it’s decline towards the horizon again.

“Yea. Now that you say it, I am starting to get hungry.”

They stopped on the hill and Lance began to scan the ground, fussing with the travel bag as he stared at one spot.

He slightly nervously pulled out a thin, soft blanket from within the small travel bag, letting the faint wind spread it out as he laid it on the ground.

“Wait, did you drag me all the way out here for a picnic?” Guardienne giggled as she watched his ministrations, and a faint dark red brushed Lance’s face as he paused and avoided her gaze.

“I suppose it does look like that.” He grinned broadly and breathed a laugh. Lance originally saw the date as a combination of many things that they’d both enjoy, but it did seem like the main highlight was their lunch now...

“Don’t worry, I’ve enjoyed the whole date so far. Unless the food sprouts wings I don’t think it’ll rival the thrilling ride you gave me.” Guardienne giggled as she approached the blanket he set down.

“Who said I was worried?” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a sly grin now.

“Ugh, fine then Mr. Cool and Collected... That’s a nice look on you by the ways.” She brushed off his comment and internally laughed at the contradiction she pointed out, looking away before meeting his gaze again with a tinge of smugness. 

“It would look better on you.” Lance quickly retorted. Guardienne couldn’t stop her shy grin and her heart from racing when he turned his sharp blue gaze on her, a blush faintly dusting his face as he grinned dangerously at her through narrowed eyes. Somehow, no matter what state he’s in, he always seems to manage to get her restless. 

They settled onto the blanket - Lance resting his sword on the ground next to the cloth so it was out of the way - and began to unpack the food that Karuto cooked, placing it carefully on slightly uneven ground. They carried on conversations as they ate, enjoying the warmth of the day and the breeze that brushed by, even spotting a wild rabbit-like creature racing across the grassland.

Some time later, after their meal was finished and the scraps packed up tightly in the travel bag to take back, they laid back on the blanket, watching as snowy clouds passed overhead. Guardienne suggested that they stay there for a while and watch the clouds, and she began pointing out certain clouds that looked like shapes or companions to her. Lance quickly caught on to the idea and pointed out a few things as well. They even started debating what clouds looked like what, nipping lightly at each other with humorous words when they scuffled about whether a cloud looked like a Warrifang or a Gallytrot.

Eventually they continued their journey across the prairie, heading towards the small lake in the distance. When it was finally up close - the sun truly beginning it’s descent towards the horizon, casting a chilled breeze across the land and gorgeously highlighting the colors of grass and lake alike - she looked into the water. Small pebbles were scattered across the lake bottom, and she stopped at the edge to peer across the water as Lance walked a bit further. He took her hand gently, drawing her attention back to him to look at him in surprise.

Lance was standing on the water in front of her.

Guardienne looked at the surface of the water that he stood on to find it iced over - a circle that surrounded him by a few feet - thicker where he stood and thinning out until it crackled away at the edges. She looked up to meet his gaze with shock.

"Come on." He urged her to step out onto the ice with him with a humored smile, placing a foot in front of her path to summon another ice circle for her before backing off.

Really, she shouldn't have been so surprised - his abilities heavily vary in their use, so it makes complete sense that he could do this. However, she couldn’t shake the flutter in her chest as she looked at him. Was it his casualness that she was actually taking most attention to? Was she actually enjoying this date more than she realized?

Guardienne reached out with a tentative foot, placing it steadily on the ice. It shifted under her weight, slightly floating away as her foot pressed against it and continuing its journey away even after she took her foot off it. Lance placed a foot on the circle at it began to float away, holding it steady and adding more ice onto it to create a bigger circle for her. She looked back up at him with a grin.

"You're kidding me right? Why just little circles? Why not freeze over the whole lake?"

Her hesitance hid worry underneath the surface that Lance caught on to, and he gently grinned back.

"Freezing over the whole thing could have adverse effects to the environment. It's safer to freeze it in small sections. Now get on the ice before I pick you up and place you on it." His tone turned affectionately amused at the last sentence, and then added in a serious, gentle tone; "I won't let you fall in, I promise."

Guardienne looked back at the ice before gently placing her foot on it again, now a bit more confident that it would be stable with Lance holding it - it was his ice after all. It shifted again slightly under her weight, but she committed to her decision and lifted her other foot off the ground to place on the ice, gripping Lance's arm the whole time for support. He wouldn't let her fall, right?

Lance kept her hand in one of his while his other went to her waist to stabilize her as she grew closer, freezing over the small, thinly-iced gap between them so she could basically press herself against him as she looked at the water around them. Guardienne leaned against him slightly as she faintly caught his scent, feeling safe in his arms from the possibility of taking a lake bath.

"Have you never walked on ice before?" He asked gently. Guardienne looked up at him again.

"Well, I've slipped on ice multiple times, but I don’t think I’ve ever achieved the skillful feat of walking on ice." Her tone was humorous as she grinned. Lance smiled back.

"It's not that hard once you know how, you just need to be careful with how you place your feet. It should be easier since you're expecting to step on ice, too."

Lance took a step forward, heading further onto the lake as ice formed under his foot just before he touched the surface of the water. Guardienne took an awkward step forward as well, hesitantly placing her foot down as ice formed under her as well. A small laugh escaped the dragon next to her.

“You can walk normally, you don’t need to step where you think the ice will form. It’ll appear under you no matter where you step.”

“Why will it just appear under me? How do I know it’s not going to form somewhere else?” Guardienne joined his subtle laugh as she clung to him. The water beneath them was beautiful, but she really didn’t want to get wet at the moment.

“Because I’m watching you, it forms under you because I make it do so.”

“And what if you’re not watching me?”

“That’s impossible.” The response slipped out before he could stop it and Guardienne’s gaze shot back up to look at him with an affectionately amused smile. Lance averted his gaze with a minor blush again, grinning faintly as well. He didn’t mean to say that, but it was true all the same.

“Come on, you won’t slip or fall into the lake, I promise.”

They walked further out into the lake and Guardienne calmed down over time, eventually trusting the ice enough to walk by herself - although she still held Lance’s hand tightly - as she scanned the surface of the water and watched as ice formed under her no matter where she stepped. It was fascinating, really; it formed nearly instantly and immediately faded back to water after she moved further.

Lance managed to distract her a bit by sparking conversations, of which she happily took part in, her gaze shifting between him, the ice and water, and the trees off in the distance that they were heading towards. She squinted her eyes to see a certain tree a bit better. Was that a hint of blue?

A splash in the water stole her attention and she quickly looked down to see a large, scaly shape receding back to the depths of the lake. She continued to walk alongside Lance, but kept her eyes firmly on the water. Another large, scaly shape rushed by, almost translucent but with hints of colors dotting along it’s body. Guardienne froze in her steps with wide eyes - it was nearly half her size!

“Lance there are monsters in these waters.” She held tight to his hand as he stopped beside her, looking down into the water with her. Another creature arced in the water and Lance grinned at her amusing statement.

“Not monsters.” He spoke in a light tone, crouching down on the ice and opening the travel bag to fish out a few bread scraps.

A large chunk of bread landed in the water and floated for a moment. Guardienne crouched down next to Lance, sticking close to his side. After a few moments of waiting, a large, slightly translucent creature reared out of the water, opening a great maw to swallow the bread whole. Beady black eyes whirled around as it breached the surface, locking on the couple before it submerged again.

“Great Oracle, what is that!?” And so began another moment of Lance imparting some of his knowledge to her.

Guardienne eventually relaxed in the presence of the fish-like creatures, hesitantly taking a scrap of bread that Lance gifted her and placing it in the water, her hand hesitating to reel back as she considered pushing it further out. Lance reached out and gently took her hand in his to pull it back, and mere moments after he did so, another creature dashed out and closed it’s jaws around the bread with a snap. Guardienne basically threw herself back against Lance with a squeak.

“Note to self, don’t give them your hand!” She laughed as surprise and amusement fluttered through her being, clinging to him again for a moment.

“It nearly took my hand clean off!” Her gaze turned to meet Lance’s before turning back to where the creature disappeared as Lance shook with laughter.

“You would have been fine!” 

“Are you kidding me? With a big mouth like that it would have taken my arm, too!”

“Suppose I should keep my hand away from your mouth in that case.”

“Oh, hush, you! You know that’s not true!”

Their laughter died down in time and they continued their walk across the water, Guardienne now being a lot more comfortable with the ice below their feet. They approached the shore and Lance let Guardienne step onto the ground first, following immediately after as the ice disappeared back into lake water. Standing at the shore, Guardienne could see the tree she was looking at earlier. It was tall, and it’s branches curved beautifully downward with thick, deep blue flowers stemming from the twigs. The sinking sun beautifully highlighted the deep colors on it and illuminated the grass around the trunk. She stared in awe and Lance turned to look as well. 

“It’s beautiful... what type of tree is it?”

They began to approach it - not realizing that their hands were still clasped together - and stood beneath the draping branches.

“I’m not sure, I’ve seen this type of tree a few times but I don’t know anything of it.” Lance brushed his hand along a curved branch - the wood smooth to the touch - and peered at Guardienne to get a better read on her opinion of the tree.

Guardienne parted herself from Lance to look closer at the blue flowers, lightly touching the silken petals and bending closer to breathe in the faint, sweet scent. She closed her eyes and grinned before looking up at the higher branches, embracing the beautiful color of mixed brown and blue. Light scuffling broke her out of her trance and she looked to the trunk to find Lance on the first few branches above her, curiosity flooding her mind as she stepped a bit closer and watched him scale the tree. He nearly disappeared into the branches and flowers, standing for a few moments on a branch uncomfortably high above the ground before making his way down again, the broken side of a small twig with a beautiful array of sky blue flowers clamped between his teeth.

He landed softly on the ground and presented the twig to her, and Guardienne happily took it to admire the vibrant blue of the flowers compared to the softer cobalt blue of the flowers on branches closer to the ground.

“You know, you could have just picked a twig from one of the branches already in reach.” She joked lightly. Lance grinned.

“What fun would that be? Besides, the ones closer to the ground seem to be starting to wilt, the top of the tree has better flowers.”

He watched Guardienne as she smiled softly at the twig she held in her hand, raising it to breathe in the lighter scent and stroke a petal.

“I would almost think you’d change the tides of water for me.” She spoke softly, affectionately reflecting on everything he did for her today.

Lance heard her all the same, and a warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched the setting sun light her skin aglow with the flower branch. I would move the world for you, he thought. However, he held his tongue - it was too soon to be revealing how deep his affection for her ran, it would likely unsettle her - and instead glanced at the sun’s position on the horizon. It was nearly sunset.

“We should probably head back, it’s getting late and we have a dinner to attend.”

Guardienne glanced at the sun as well.

“Yea... no flying spectacles this time?” She turned her gentle gaze to him and smiled.

“No flying spectacles.” He grinned back with soft eyes and rested a hand on her lower back as they headed into the grassland again, Guardienne safely tucking the flower twig into a snug fold in her shirt so the wind wouldn’t steal it away.

“The flight back should be beautiful with the sunset.” She murmured, lightly nudging against Lance. This date turned out better than she originally hoped, and she reminded herself to thank him for the wonderful experience later.

“It will be.”

Lance shifted into his dragon form and they took to the skies again, Guardienne glancing back at the land that would forever hold a dear place in her heart.

That wasn’t the last time they visited that lake and tree.

I have absolutely no idea on if this is supposed to be a headcanon or a scenario, but I hope you like it regardless! I had so many ideas I wanted to add to this, but by then I’d be writing an actual short story just for their first date lol. Maybe I’ll write a part 2 to their first date (second date I suppose, that’ll be a bit more intimate than this one), or general date headcanons with those ideas.

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