#theme help: succulent

[nonspace]

Hi! I've been trying to add Magnus' Isotope Combo Filter to your Succulent for the past couple of weeks with zero success. I've reached out to other people who know coding better than I do (I'm a wee novice), and they said that the filtering built into Succulent won't work with Magnus's combo. I'm very confused. Any guidance would be most appreciated (@ angieshenanigans). Hope you have a good week!

Hi! It does work it just needs some extra steps 😅

I made a version with combo filters for my MIRROR IMAGES theme which uses the same set up as SUCCULENT. You can have a look here: https://github.com/n0nspace/tumblr-themes/blob/main/sheet%20pages/mirror-images/mirror-images-sheets-combofilters.js

The main thing is that the combo filter script needs to be places within the buildLayout() function. That's where you can find isotope as well.

[niki-smith]

Goooood morning, the SUCCULENT Kickstarter is LIVE! 🌵🪷🌵

I had an absolute blast co-editing this anthology of twelve sexy, trans-inclusive sapphic comics. @discordcomics and Ollie Hicks and I spent the last year working with an outstanding lineup of writers and artists to put this 200 page book together-- these comics are hot, humid, dirty and FUN.

"Our theme is a Garden of Sapphic Delights. Femme flowers, sappy butches, genderqueer lesbians, trans femme wives, fleshy dykes and thorny switches"…......

........need I say more?

Comics are good.

(I've got a sexy comic of my own in the anthology too, of course… the pics in the middle are from my 13 page comic, Prickly Pair.)

Help us reach our sexy sapphic goal by backing the Kickstarter now until May 15!

[candysims4]

CC DROP | OCT 2023

BUY MODE EDITION

After taking a long break from posting Buy Mode cc, I put together a few random projects in my WIP folder and finished them. The result is this cc drop for October, which includes 13 clutter decor pieces.

THE DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM PLUS THE CREATOR’S NOTES BELOW THE CUT.

ALL ITEMS ARE:

BASE GAME COMPATIBLE

NON-DEFAULT

THUMBNAILS (HOSTED IN IMGUR)

MY SITE (NO AD.FLY): THE TRIO PAINTINGS (TWO VERSIONS) | CARINHA PLANT POT AND BOOKS | EQUILÍBRIO BOOKS (TWO VERSIONS) | OLD TIMES TRAY WITH LETTERS | ARGILA PLANTS | COMPANHIA BOXES (TWO VERSIONS) | UNEXPECTED UMBRELLA KEEPER | SUNKISSED SUNGLASSES Free release on 11th November 2023

PATREON EARLY ACCESS + MERGED OPTIONS

TERMS OF USE | SEND YOUR FEEDBACK | REPORT AN ISSUE

Thanks to all the cc creators that I used in the pic. And thanks to @maxismatchccworld, @simblrcollective, @s4library​, @wewantmods​, and everybody who reblog this post!

If you’re a cc finds and want to be tagged when I post, please, let me know. You can send me an ask or in DM.

With your help, more people can know about my work! 💖 Love you all, XOXO 💖

DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM:

THE TRIO PAINTINGS (TWO VERSIONS) You can search "The Trio Paintings" OR/AND “CandySims4″

WALL VERSION

38 swatches

138 polygons

§ 200

You will find in DECORATIONS/WALL

FLOOR VERSION

38 swatches

132 polygons

§ 200

You will find in DECORATIONS/CLUTTER

CARINHA PLANT POT AND BOOKS

32 swatches

978 polygons

§ 150

You will find in DECORATIONS/CLUTTER OR/AND PLANT

You can search by "Carinha Plant Pot and Books" or/and “CandySims4″

EQUILÍBRIO BOOKS (TWO VERSIONS)

14 swatches

578 polygons

§ 40

You will find in DECORATIONS/CLUTTER OR/AND STORAGE/BOOKSHELF

You can search by "Equilibrio Books" or/and “CandySims4″

OLD TIMES TRAY WITH LETTERS

35 swatches

70 polygons

§ 15

You will find in DECORATIONS/CLUTTER

You can search by "Old Times Tray with Letters" or/and “CandySims4″

ARGILA PLANTS You can search by "Argila Leafy Plant/Cactus/Succulent" or/and “CandySims4″

LEAFY PLANT

20 swatches

494 polygons

§ 38

You will find in DECORATIONS/PLANTS

CACTUS

20 swatches

262 polygons

§ 24

You will find in DECORATIONS/PLANTS

​SUCCULENT

20 swatches

298 polygons

§ 24

You will find in DECORATIONS/PLANTS

COMPANHIA BOXES (TWO VERSIONS)

38 swatches

92 polygons

§ 25

You will find in DECORATIONS/CLUTTER

You can search by "Companhia Boxes" or/and “CandySims4″

UNEXPECTED UMBRELLA KEEPER

40 swatches

796 polygons

§ 120

You will find in DECORATIONS/MISC

You can search by "Unexpected Umbrella Keeper" or/and “CandySims4″

Functional as an "umbrella rack"

SUNKISSED SUNGLASSES

38 swatches

992 polygons

§ 12

You will find in DECORATIONS/CLUTTER

You can search by "SunkissedSunglasses" or/and “CandySims4″

CREATOR’S NOTES:

I'll try to keep this creator's notes as short as possible, so let's right up start talking about the items individually, beginning with "The Trio Paintings." These paintings are absolutely stunning - they come in a variety of swatches, patterns, and landscapes (all Sims-themed, of course). You have two options to choose from: one that's wall-mounted and another that leans against the wall on the floor. Both options come with the exact same swatches.   

"Companhia Boxes" also come in two versions - one where they're side by side and one where they're stacked on top of each other. All of the swatches are color combinations, and few have patterns. They're different between the versions as they're made to complement one to the other. 

Name translation (from PT-BR): "Companhia" can mean a few things, but in this case, it is being used in the meaning of "companionship." Which totally makes sense to me because these boxes are always together.

"Old Times Tray with Letters" is a very random idea I had. I enjoy the aesthetic of letters, and I thought it would be cute to use as decor in a compartment, as a small place to leave the received mail when coming home.  My focus on it was the letters; I tried my best to make it very game-friendly with even tiny weenie stamps. 

"Sunkissed Sunglasses" are a simple yet stylish design, a wayfarer sunglasses folded. This versatile decor can go from adding a beachy vibe to your pool area to sprucing up your closet with some fun flair.

"Equilibrio Books" is another item that comes in two versions. The first version has all the books leaning towards each other and standing upright, while the second version is part stacked and part leaning in with the other books. Both versions have the same swatches with color/print variations.  I'm a big fan of these books' prints- they're so beautiful and game-friendly! It took me a while to make the diffuse for them because some of the base images were so tiny that I had to redraw them, but it was worth it in the end. Plus, they're functional as bookshelves.

Name translation (from PT-BR): "Equilíbrio" means "balance" in English.

The "Unexpected Umbrella Keeper" was a must-have for my game, and I hope it will be for yours too. Since there's only one in the game, I thought having something different would be awesome.  My idea for it was to be a decorative jar that was repurposed as an umbrella rack (from this concept came the name).  Not only is it a cool decoration, but it's also functional! You can click on it to grab an umbrella for your Sim, which makes it perfect for the hallway. 

"Argila Plants" has three plant varieties. A leafy plant, a cactus, and a succulent, all snugly placed in plant pots made of clay (or "argila" in Portuguese-BR). The leafy plant is comparatively bigger than the others, so it comes in a bigger pot. They all come in the same color swatches, so you can mix and match them however you like.

Last but would never be least, my favorite piece of this cc drop is the "Carinha Plant Pot and Books." I stumbled upon some images of similar plant pots on Pinterest and was so inspired that I knew I had to create one of my own! But, I wasn't feeling too confident in my skills, so I decided to design one that was more my speed and also low poly. And let me tell you, the end result is beautiful and adorable! I just love the little smile on its face. It's the cutest thing ever!

Name translation (from PT-BR): The term "carinha" is the diminutive of "cara"; it's a slang term that indicates or calls a person informally.  According to Google Translate in English, it's translated to "dude." 

I created these items at different times, so they all have their own unique designs and uses. Although I was never inspired to put them together in sets, I thought putting them in a cc drop would be better than posting them separately. I hope you don't find it too messy and can find something you like here. 

Even though they have different designs, I think they can all be used together without any problem. Personally, I'm really proud of how they turned out and all the hard work that went into them. I love every detail of them, and I'm especially happy that they're mainly low poly but still look nice.

Anyway, that's all I wanted to share for now. Thanks so much for reading my notes! I hope you have a fantastic day/night. XOXO

[monstrouslyobsessed]

love’s lethal bouquet

concept: in which the floral shop boss is in love with you—and isn’t a human. —momster

—a/n: well i havent posted in ages because of how bad my writers block was :( and i’m vvvvv iffy about this one. this is much more subtle and tamer than my usual too, but at least its something for the valentine’s day?

anyway, ima try and tackle a commission i owe next so please take care yall<3

—tw / tags: gn reader, implied drugging intention, implied teratophilia, implied exophilia, general yandere themes, sfw.

—featured character(s): the floral shop boss / plant monster (implied)

Valentine's Day proves to be one of the busiest days at the floral shop where you work. Breathing in the heady floral scents that permeate the store, you find yourself in continuous motion, assembling bouquets of pink roses, carnations, violets, and every red flower known to man into the van. With your back straining from the constant lifting, you absently listen to the gentle voice of your boss reassuring an irritated customer about their belated delivery—

and you wince.

Although you should be in a rush taking care of the deliveries, you tiptoe inside the back of the shop to avoid interrupting your boss—

But he merely hangs up the phone upon seeing your flustered face.

“S, sorry—” You begin.

He shakes his head with a gentle smile playing on his thinly bearded lips and says, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

The way he addresses you as ‘love’ used to bother you. It always seemed so…formal, old-fashioned, but coming from him—your boss—he somehow makes it work without needing to force the romantic undertone. Perhaps it is because he is on the older side and being a foreigner in this little town of yours.

The town lies deep within the trench of an endless forest, and you wonder how your boss had found his way here.

His arrival several years ago stirred many gossips about him, with him keeping his lips sealed about his past, but everyone slowly warmed up to him. His succulent blooms, never seen before even in the gardening magazines, certainly helped. Now, your boss is a familiar face among the townspeople, with very few not knowing who he is. And, of course, his handsome and charming demeanor won the hearts of many too.

“But I would’ve made the deliveries on time if I didn’t eat brea—” you try.

His piercing green eyes soften as you nervously fixing your rolled sleeves. You halt when he suddenly leans in.

“Boss—?” You rasp at the new weights on your shoulders, trying to pay no mind to the strange dark strains on his thick fingers.

The way he held you was almost…fond—

And he pushes you outside to the doorway. “Go finish the deliveries, won’t you?”

“Really?” You huff, trying to ignore the red tinge to your cheeks and the heavy thumping of your heart.

Your boss smiles that damnable handsome smile of his and pats you on your head, saying, “Get to it. The sooner you finish, the sooner I can give you your little Valentine’s Day bonuses for working so hard.”

While giving his employees gifts during holidays and special events is not new to your boss, you still perk up in eagerness and reward him with the biggest smile you can muster. As you dart away with a confident promise to complete the deliveries, he watches you scurry to the van, inhaling sharply,

“Soon.”

Your boss murmurs, rubbing his knuckle with his other hand—as if to hide the sudden green spot on it. Tiny vines emerge briefly, before he rubs them away and pivots back to his cash register where his impatient customers have started to queue. Flashing them with a dazzling smile to reassure frustrated customers with a wordless apology, your boss absently peers over to his office.

There, on his desk, is the special bouquet he prepared for you and only you.

Imagining you burying your face into the fragrant cluster of your favorite flowers, oblivious to the true intention of its purpose, the toxic drugging qualities meant to lure you into his arms—into his ivies and his binds of vines and creepers—had him biting back a shudder. Restraining himself before the antsy crowd, your boss rings up a customer with an invisible countdown ticking in his head.

A countdown to have you.

The blooms nearby writhe and shudder, with most dismissing it as mere breezes from the air conditioner.

It was not.

—end…?

[hephaestuscrew]

The role of Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure Protocol Manual in the characterisation, symbolism, and themes of Wolf 359

TL;DR: The DSSPPM is used as a tool to help establish and develop Minkowski and Eiffel as characters: Minkowski as a strict Commander who clings to the certainty provided by a rigid source of authority like the DSSPPM, and Eiffel as the anti-authority slacker who strongly objects to the idea that he ought to read the manual. The way their contrasting attitudes towards the DSSPPM manifest through the show reflect their character development and changing dynamic. The DSSPPM can be directly used against the protagonists by those with power over them, and the reveal of its authorship gives a particularly sinister edge to its regular presence in the show. But it can be also be repurposed and seen through an individual interpersonal lens.

Note: There’s plenty that you could say about the DSSPPM through the lens of what it says about Goddard Futuristics as an organisation, or about Pryce and Cutter as people. Or you could talk about Lambert quoting the DSSPPM an absurd number of times in Change of Mind, and Lovelace’s reactions to this. But in this essay, I’ll be analysing on mentions of the DSSPPM with a focus on Minkowski, Eiffel, and their dynamic.

“One of those mandatory mission training things”: the DSSPPM as a tool to establish characterisation

The first mention of Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure Protocol Manual (the DSSPPM) in Wolf 359 is also the very first interaction we hear Eiffel and Minkowski have. In fact, the first time we hear Minkowski's voice at all is her telling Eiffel off for not having read the manual:

[Ep1 Succulent Rat-Killing Tar] MINKOWSKI Eiffel, did you read your copy of Pryce and Carter?  EIFFEL My copy of what?  MINKOWSKI Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure Protocol Manual.  EIFFEL Was that one of those mandatory mission training things?  MINKOWSKI Yes.  EIFFEL In that case, yes, I definitely did.  MINKOWSKI Did you now? Because I happened to find your copy of the D.S.S.P.P.M. floating in the observation deck.  EIFFEL Oh?  MINKOWSKI Still in its plastic wrapping.

This is an effective way to establish their conflicting personalities right out of the gate. Minkowski's determination to "do things by the book - this book in fact" contrasts clearly with Eiffel's professed ignorance about and clear disregard for "this... Jimmy Carter thing”. Purely through their attitudes to this one book, they slot easily into clear archetypes which inevitably clash. Everything about Eiffel in that opening episode sets him up as a slacker who doesn't care about authority, but the image of his mandatory mission training manual floating in the observation deck "still in its plastic wrapping" provides a particularly striking illustration.

By contrast, we immediately encounter Minkowski as a strict leader who cares deeply about making sure everything is done according to protocol; the intense importance she places on the DSSPPM is one of the very first things we know about her. Her insistence on the importance of the survival manual might seem somewhat understandable at first, if perhaps unhelpfully aggressive, but it starts to feel less sensible as soon as we start to hear some of the tips from this manual:

Deep Space Survival Tip Number Five: Remain positive at all times. Maintain a cheerful attitude even in the face of adversity. Remember: when you are smiling the whole world smiles with you, but when you're crying you're in violation of fleet-wide morale codes and should report to your superior officer for disciplinary action.

The strange, controlling, vaguely sinister tone of some of the tips we hear in the first episode is largely played for laughs, emphasised by the exaggeratedly upbeat manner in which Hera reads them. But even these first few tips give us some initial suggestions that the powers behind this mission might not care all that much about the wellbeing of their crew members.

It says something about Minkowski that she places such faith and importance in a book which says things like "Failing to remain calm, could result in your grisly, gruesome death" and "when you're crying you're in violation of fleet-wide morale codes and should report to your superior officer for disciplinary action." (Foreshadowing the Hephaestus Station as the home of immense emotional repression and compartmentalising...) Having those kind of pressures and demands placed on her (and those around her) by people above her in the military hierarchy doesn’t unsettle Minkowski.

Eiffel groans and sighs as he listens to the tips, but Minkowski seems to see this manual as an essential source of wisdom. The main role the manual plays in this episode is to establish Minkowski and Eiffel as contrasting characters with very different approaches to authority and therefore a potential to clash.

When Minkowski demands that Eiffel reads the DSSPPM, he decides to get Hera to read it to him, asking her to keep this as “a 'just the two of us, totally secret, never tell Commander Minkowski' thing”. Eiffel seems convinced that Minkowski won't be happy with him listening to Hera read the DSSPPM rather than reading it himself. This suggests that (at least in Eiffel's interpretation) Minkowski’s orders are not just about her wanting him to know the contents of the manual, since this could theoretically be accomplished just as well by him listening to it. But she wants him to do things in what she’s deemed to be the correct way, to put in the right amount of effort, and not to take what she might see as a shortcut. It’s not just about the contents of the manual; it’s about the commitment to protocol that reading it represents.

“When in doubt: whip it out”: Hilbert’s use of the DSSPPM

In Season 1, the DSSPPM isn't purely associated with Minkowski. Hilbert actually quotes it more than she does in the first few episodes. In Ep2 Little Revolución, Hilbert's response to Eiffel's toothpaste protest is inspired by "Pryce and Carter six fourteen: “When in doubt, whip it out - ‘it’ being hydrochloric acid.”" This tip is absurd in a more direct obvious way than those we heard in Ep1. While this absurdity is partly for humour, it also casts further doubt on the usefulness of this supposedly authoritative survival manual, and therefore on the wisdom of trusting Command.

In Ep4 Cataracts and Hurricanoes, Hilbert starts to quote Tip #4 at Eiffel, who protests "I'm not gonna have one of the last things I hear be some crap from the survival manual". These moments again place Eiffel in clear opposition to the DSSPPM, but also suggest that Hilbert's attitude towards the DSSPPM - and therefore towards Command - is closer to Minkowski's than to Eiffel's.

When Hilbert turns on the Hephaestus crew in his Christmas mutiny, his allegiance to Command is revealed as dangerous. And here the DSSPPM comes up again. As Minkowski dissolves the door between her and Hilbert, she triumphantly echoes his own words back to him: "Pryce and Carter six fourteen: “When in doubt, whip it out - ‘it’ being hydrochloric acid.” Never. Fails." This provides a callback to a previous, more comedic conflict on the Hephaestus, and reminds the listener of a time when Minkowski and Hilbert were working together against Eiffel, in contrast to the current situation of Minkowski and Eiffel versus Hilbert. But it also shows that Minkowski, like Hilbert, is capable of using some of the more absurd DSSPPM tips to defeat an adversary. And it shows Minkowski leaning on those tips in a real moment of crisis.

Once Hilbert has betrayed the crew in order to follow orders from Command, we might look back on his quoting of the DSSPPM as casting the manual in a more sinister light, and again calling into question the wisdom of Minkowski placing such trust in it.

“It's not that I don't believe it, I'm just disgusted by it”: the DSSPPM as an indicator of a changing dynamic

The next mention of the DSSPPM is in Ep17 Bach to the Future:

MINKOWSKI Eiffel's been spot-testing me, Hera. He doesn't believe that I've memorized all of the survival tips in Pryce and Carter. EIFFEL It's not that I don't believe it, I'm just disgusted by it. I keep hoping to discover it's not true. MINKOWSKI Well, believe as little as you want, doesn't change the fact that I do know them. And so should you!

I think this provides an interesting illustration of the way in which Minkowski and Eiffel’s dynamic has developed since Ep1. They still have deeply contrasting attitudes to the DSSPPM, but this contrast is now a source of entertainment between them, rather than merely of conflict.

Given that Hera wasn’t aware of Eiffel testing Minkowski on the tips, we can guess that it’s a game they came up with while Hera was offline. In the midst of all the exhaustion and uncertainty and fear they were dealing with after Hilbert’s mutiny, this was a way they found to pass the time. It must have been Eiffel who suggested it; Minkowski cites his disbelief as the reason for the spot-testing. And yet she plays along, responding each time, even though this activity has no real productive value.

Minkowski is keen to demonstrate that she does know the tips and she emphasises that Eiffel ought to know them too, but their interactions about the DSSPPM in this episode have none of the genuine irritation and frustration that they displayed in Ep1. It feels almost playful and teasing. Eiffel still thinks Minkowski is "completely insane" for learning all the tips and is "disgusted" by her commitment to memorising them, but these comments feel much closer to joking about a friend's weird traits than to insulting a hated coworker's personality. It feels like something has shifted since Eiffel responded to Minkowski’s passion for the DSSPPM by saying “I'm so glad that your shrivelled husk of a dictator's heart is as warm as a decompression chamber”.

Another thing to note here is that Minkowski's respect for the DSSPPM has clearly survived Hilbert's Christmas mutiny and Minkowski's resulting distrust of Command. From Hilbert's behaviour at Christmas, it's clear that the crew's survival is not at the top of Command's priority list. But Minkowski still trusts the book that Command told her to read. She still thinks Eiffel should read it too. The main figures of authority above her are dangerous and untrustworthy, but she still clings to the source of guidance they provided her with.

It's also worth noting that Minkowski has not just learnt the advice in each of the 1001 tips, but she has memorised (nearly) all of them by number. If it was just about the information that the manual provides to inform responses to potentially life-or-death situations, then knowing the numbers wouldn't be necessary. Nor would it be particularly useful to know them all exactly word-for-word. Minkowski's reliance on the DSSPPM is again suggested to be about more than the potential practical use of its content. It's about showing that she is committed and disciplined and up to the task of leading. She does have some awareness of the strangeness of many of the tips, but this doesn't diminish the value of her adherence to the manual for her:

EIFFEL You're insane.  MINKOWSKI I'm disciplined. Although I will admit they do get more... esoteric as you go higher up the list.

There's only one tip Minkowski doesn't seem to remember, and that's revealing too:

EIFFEL 555? Minkowski DRAWS BREATH - and STOPS SHORT. [...] MINKOWSKI Hold on a second, I know this. (beat) Dammit. EIFFEL Hey, look at that! Looks like there may be hope for you yet. MINKOWSKI Quiet, Eiffel. Hera, what's D.S.S.P.P.M. 555? HERA "Good communication habits are key to continued subsistence. Be in touch with other crew members about shipboard activities. Interfacing about possible problems or dangers is the best way to anticipate and prevent them." This hangs in the air for a second. Then – EIFFEL So you forget the one tip in the entire manual that's actually helpful? MINKOWSKI Shut up.

Communication is a key theme of this show, so it’s interesting that this is the one tip Minkowski can’t remember, perhaps indicating an aspect of leadership and teamwork that she doesn’t always prioritise or find easy.

Eiffel saying “Looks like there may be hope for you yet” seems like just a throwaway teasing line, but it’s got a profound edge to it. A lot of Minkowski’s arc is about learning how to provide her own direction and support her crew outside of the systems of authority and hierarchy that she’s grown so attached to. So perhaps Eiffel is right to see a kind of hope in her failure to remember every single DSSPPM tip – she has the potential to break free of her reliance on external authority.

“Which one was 897, what was the exact phrasing of that Deep Space Survival Tip?”: the DSSPPM in interactions with Cutter

The Wolf 359 liveshow, Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol, is literally named after the manual. This suggests, before we’ve even heard/watched the episode, that the DSSPPM will be a key symbol here. Which is interesting because I'd say the liveshow has two main plot points: (a) Eiffel's failure to read the DSSPPM or follow orders in general, the resulting disruption to the mission, and his crewmates' frustration with this; and (b) the looming threat of Cutter, the necessity of keeping information from Command, and the risk of fatal mission termination.

Even without the knowledge that Cutter is one of the co-authors of the DSSPPM (which neither the Hephaestus crew nor a first-time listener knows at this point), there's a kind of irony in the contrast between these two plotlines. On the one hand, Minkowski repeatedly berates Eiffel for not having read Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol Manual, which was made mandatory by Command. On the other hand, she is aware that Command in general - and Cutter specifically - represents the biggest threat to the safety and survival of her crew.

Cutter uses the DSSPPM against each of the Hephaestus crew in their one-on-one conversations with him. For Minkowski, he uses it as a way of emphasising the expectations and responsibility placed on her:

MINKOWSKI There are always gaps between expectation and reality, but-- CUTTER But it's our job as leaders to close that gap, isn't it? Pryce and Carter...? MINKOWSKI 414, yes. Yes, sir, I know.

Cutter knows that Minkowski will know those tips and he knows abiding by them is important to her. She's quick to demonstrate her knowledge of the DSSPPM and agree with the tip. There's something deeply sinister to me about Cutter's use of the word 'our' here. His phrasing includes them both as leaders who should be ensuring that things are exactly as expected. It’s almost a kind of flattery at her authority, but it comes with impossibly high expectations. This way of emphasising the importance and responsibilities of her role as Commander is a targeted strategy by Cutter at manipulating Minkowski, designed to appeal to her values.

In Hera's one-on-one, Cutter uses a DSSPPM tip to interpret her behaviour and claim that he can read her motives:

CUTTER This thing you're doing. Asking questions while you get your bearings. HERA Sir, I'm just curious about-- CUTTER Pryce and Carter 588: Shows of courtesy and polite queries are an efficient way to gain time necessary to strategize.

Unlike with Minkowski (or Eiffel), Cutter doesn't prompt Hera to demonstrate her knowledge of the manual. That wouldn't work as a power play against Hera, who would be able to recall the manual (or, rather, retrieve the file, however that distinction works within her memory) but who doesn't care about the DSSPPM like Minkowski does. Instead, Cutter implies that Hera’s behaviour can be predicted - or at the very least seen through - by the DSSPPM, which seems like a cruel attempt by Cutter at belittling her.

For Eiffel, Cutter uses the manual as a weapon in a different way again. He asks Eiffel, "which one was 897, what was the exact phrasing of that Deep Space Survival Tip?", something which Eiffel clearly doesn't know, but Cutter of course does. This puts Eiffel on the back foot, trying to defend and justify himself, allowing Cutter to emphasise his position of power yet again.

The DSSPPM plays a double role in the liveshow. On the one hand, as Minkowski reminds Eiffel, proper knowledge of the manual "would've saved [the crew] from these problems with the nav computer" – some of the tips can potentially save the crew a great deal of hassle, stress, and risk. On the other hand, the same manual is used by Cutter to manipulate, unsettle, and intimidate the crew. There are these two sides to the information given to the crew by Command - two sides to the manual which Minkowski still values.

In another duality for the DSSPM, the manual is sometimes used as a symbol of the relationship between the crew members and Command, and sometimes used to indicate the dynamics between the individual crew members, usually Minkowski and Eiffel. Before Cutter’s appearance in the liveshow, Minkowski and Eiffel’s discussions of the DSSPPM reflect interpersonal disagreements between two people with fundamentally different attitudes:

MINKOWSKI Oh come on, why do you think I keep trying to get you to go over these things? Do you think I enjoy going through them? EIFFEL Yes. MINKOWSKI Well, alright, I do. But this knowledge could save your life.

Minkowski enjoys rules, regulations, and certainty, for their own sake as much as for any practical usefulness. Eiffel very much does not. This is a simple clash of individuals, in which the link between the DSSPPM and Command is implicit. Minkowski doesn't seem to question the idea that the information in the DSSPPM is potentially life-saving, even though she knows Command don't care about their lives. But Cutter’s repeated references to the DSSPPM remind us who made that book a mandatory part of mission training – it certainly wasn’t Minkowski, even if she’s often the one attempting to enforce this rule.

At the end of the liveshow, in a desperate attempt to prevent mission termination, Eiffel promises Cutter that he will read the DSSPPM (the liveshow transcript notes that him saying this is "like pulling teeth"), an instance of the manual being used in negotiations between the Hephaestus crew and Command. All Minkowski’s orders weren’t enough to get Eiffel to read that book, but a genuine life-or-death threat might just about be enough. Perhaps it's ironic that Eiffel reads the survival manual out of a desire for survival, not because he thinks the contents of the book will help him survive, but because he’s grasping anything he can offer to buy the crew’s survival from those who created that same book.

In the final scene of the liveshow, Minkowski catches Eiffel reading the DSSPPM, and he fumbles to hide that he's been reading it, a humorous reversal of all the times that he's lied to her that he has read it. Perhaps admitting that he's reading it would be like letting Minkowski win. Minkowski seems to find both surprise and amusement in seeing Eiffel finally reading the manual, but she doesn't push him to admit it. There's some slightly smug but still friendly teasing in the way Minkowski says "were you now?" when Eiffel says that he was just reading something useful. In that final scene, the manual is viewed again through the lens of Minkowski and Eiffel’s dynamic – Command’s relation to the DSSPPM becomes secondary.

“The first thing I'd make damn sure was hard wired into anything that might end up in a situation like this one”: the DSSPPM as a tool of survival

In Ep30 Mayday, when Eiffel is stranded alone on Lovelace’s shuttle, he hallucinates Minkowski to bring him out of his helpless panic and force him into action. And this hallucination also brings with it one of Minkowski’s interests:

MINKOWSKI Eiffel... I worked on this shuttle. Reprogramming that console. EIFFEL So? How does that help – MINKOWSKI Think about it. BEAT. And then he gets it. EIFFEL Oh goddammit. MINKOWSKI What's the first thing that I would do when programming a flight computer? The first thing I'd make damn sure was hard wired into anything that might end up in a situation like this one? EIFFEL Pyrce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol Manual.

Again, a conversation about the DSSPPM gives us an indication of the development of Minkowski and Eiffel’s relationship. Not only does Eiffel imagine Minkowski as a figure of (fairly aggressive) support when he’s stranded and alone, he thinks about what advice she’d give him and he follows it. Rather than dismissing the manual entirely, he looks for tips that are relevant to his situation. He’s not pleased about his hallucinated-Minkowski trying to get him to read the DSSPPM, but that was what his mind gave him in an almost hopeless situation. Some part of him now empathises with Minkowski’s priorities in a way that he definitely wasn’t doing in Ep1. He thinks that the DSSPPM might be on the shuttle because he knows the manual is important to Minkowski. It’s by imagining Minkowski that he gets himself to read the manual in order to see if it can help him survive – he certainly doesn’t think about what Cutter or anyone else from Command would tell him to do.

In the end, the tips Eiffel picks out aren’t all that helpful or informative: “Confront reality head-on”; “In an emergency, take stock of the tools at your disposal. Then take stock again. Restock. Repurpose. Reuse. Recycle."; and “"In times of trouble, an idle mind is your worst enemy”. But Eiffel does use these tips to structure his initial thinking about how to survive on Lovelace’s shuttle. In an almost entirely hopeless situation, Eiffel finds some value in the DSSPPM. But since the tips he picks out are mostly platitudes, the actual wisdom that allows him to survive all comes from his own mind; the tips, like his hallucinations, are just a tool he uses to externalise his process of figuring out what to do.

“Wasn't there something about this in the survival manual?”: Minkowski potentially moving away from the DSSPPM

Given the significance of the DSSPPM in Season 1 and 2 to Minkowski in particular, it feels notable when the manual isn’t referenced. Unless I've missed something (and please let me know if I have), Minkowski – the real one, not Eiffel’s hallucination - doesn't bring up the manual of her own accord at all in Seasons 3 or 4. This might make us wonder if she’s moved away from her trust in and reliance on that book provided by Command.

Perhaps the arrival of the SI-5, which highlights to Minkowski that the chain of command is not a good indicator of trustworthy authority, was the final straw. Or perhaps the apparent loss of Eiffel - and any subsequent questioning of her leadership approach, or realisations about the valuable perspective Eiffel provided - were what finally broke down her faith in that book.

Alternatively, perhaps Minkowski still trusts the DSSPPM as much as ever, but trying to get Eiffel or any of the other crew members to listen to it is a losing battle that she no longer sees as a priority. Either way, Minkowski’s apparent reluctance to bring up the DSSPPM feels like a shift in her approach. 

The associations between Minkowski and the DSSPPM are still there in Season 3, but they are raised by other characters, not by Minkowski herself. The manual is used to emphasise Eiffel’s difficulties when he’s put in charge of trying to get Maxwell and Hera to fill out a survey in Ep32 Controlled Demolition. Trying to force other people to be productive pushes Eiffel into some very uncharacteristic behaviour:

EIFFEL Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you? It's like you've never even read Pryce and Carter! Tip #490 very clearly states that – He trails off. After a BEAT – HERA Officer Eiffel? MAXWELL You, uh, all right there? EIFFEL (the horror) What have I become? [...] Eiffel, now wrapped up in a blanket, is next to Lovelace. He is still very clearly shaken. EIFFEL ... and... it was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. I was slowly transforming into Commander Minkowski. [...] It was a nightmare! A terrifying, bureaucratic nightmare!

This is a funny role reversal, but it shows us the strength of Eiffel’s association between Minkowski and the DSSPPM, as well his extreme aversion to finding himself in a strict bureaucratic leadership position. It also suggests that becoming extremely frustrated when trying to get other people to do what you want might make anyone resort to relying on an external source of authority, such as the manual. I don’t know whether this experience helps Eiffel empathise with Minkowski, but perhaps it might give us some insight into how her need for authority and control in the leadership role she occupied might have reinforced her deference to the DSSPPM.

In Ep34, we get a suggestion of another character having a strong association between the DSSPPM and Minkowski. After the discovery of Funzo, Hera asks Minkowski what the manual says about it:

HERA Umm... I don't know if this is a good idea. Lieutenant, wasn't there something about this in the survival manual? MINKOWSKI Pryce and Carter 792: Of all the dangers that you will face in the void of space, nothing compares to the existential terror that is Funzo.

It’s interesting to me that Hera asks Minkowski here. We know from Ep1 that “Pryce and Carter's Deep Space Survival Procedure Protocol Manual is among the files [Hera has] access to”. Two possible reasons occur to me for why Hera might ask Minkowski about the DSSPPM tip here. One possibility is that Hera thinks that retrieving the manual from her databanks and finding the correct tip would take her more time than it would take for Minkowski to just remember the tip. Which suggests interesting things about the nature of Hera’s memory, but also implies that - at least in Hera's view -Minkowski’s knowledge of the DSSPPM is more reliable than that of a supercomputer.

The other possibility is that Hera could have recalled the relevant DSSPPM tip incredibly quickly but she doesn’t want to, maybe because she resents having that manual in her head in the first place, or maybe because she wants to show respect for Minkowski’s knowledge as a Commander. Either way, we can see that Hera – like Eiffel – strongly associates Minkowski with the DSSPPM.

And Minkowski, even if she wasn’t the one to bring up the manual here, recalls the relevant tip immediately. Perhaps she is moving away from her trust in that manual, but everything that she learned as part of her old deference to the authority of Command is still there in her head. She might want to forget it by the end of the mission, but that’s not easily achieved. The way Minkowski’s friends/crewmates associate the manual with her emphasises the difficulty she’ll face if she tries to move away from it.

“One thousand and one pains in my ass”: The authorship of the DSSPPM

In Ep55 A Place for Everything, Eiffel effectively expresses his long-held dislike of the DSSPPM when he comes face-to-face with both of its authors:

EIFFEL What? What the hell are - wait a minute - Pryce? As in one thousand and one pains in my ass, Pryce? (sudden realization) Which... makes you...? MR. CUTTER (holding out his hand) W.S. Carter, pleased to meet you. 

It’s significant that the two ‘big bads’ of the whole series are the authors of the manual which Minkowski and Eiffel were bickering about all the way back in Ep1. It’s not the only way in which the message of this show positions itself firmly against just accepting externally imposed authority and hierarchy without question or evidence, but it does reinforce this ethos.

By being the authors of the manual, Cutter and Pryce have had a sinister hidden presence throughout the show. Long before we know who Pryce is and even before we hear Cutter’s name, their manual is there, occupying a prominent place in Minkowski’s motivations and priorities, and in her arguments with Eiffel. It’s not at all comparable to what Pryce put in Hera’s mind, but it is another way in which these antagonists have wormed their way into the heads of our protagonists.

Minkowski will have to come to terms with the fact that the 1001 tips she spent hours memorising and reciting were written by two people who would have killed her, her crew, and even the whole human race without hesitation if it served their purposes. We never get to hear Minkowski’s reaction to learning the identities of Pryce and Carter, but I think processing the role of their manual in her life will be a long and difficult road that’ll tie into a lot of other emotional processing she needs to do. Her assertion to Cutter that, without him, she is “Renée Minkowski... and that is more than enough to kick your ass!” feels like part of that journey. She doesn’t mention the DSSPPM at all in Season 4. She’s growing beyond it.

"Doug Eiffel's Deep Space Survival Guide": The DSSPPM as a weapon against those who wrote it

Last but not least, I couldn’t write about Eiffel and the DSSPPM without mentioning this scene from  Ep58 Quiet, Please:

EIFFEL As someone once told me: "Pryce and Carter 754: In an emergency, take stock of the tools at your disposal, then take stock again. Repurpose, reuse, recycle." And right now? You know what I got? I got this lighter from when Cutter was using me as his personal cabana boy. [...] and I've got myself this big, fat copy of the Deep Space Survival Manual, and you know what I'm gonna do with it? [...] Eiffel STRIKES THE LIGHTER. And LIGHTS THE BOOK ON FIRE, revealing Pryce just a few feet away from him! EIFFEL I am going to repurpose it... and reuse it... and recycle it into a GIANT FIREBALL OF DEATH! And he swings the flaming book forward, HITTING PRYCE ON THE SIDE OF THE HEAD. [...] EIFFEL That's right! Doug Eiffel's Deep Space Survival Guide, B-

No one other than Doug Eiffel could pull off the chaotic energy of this moment. It doesn’t get much more anti-authority than lighting the mandatory mission manual on fire and using it as a weapon against one of its malevolent authors. It might not be the wisest move safety-wise, and it certainly doesn’t improve the situation when the node gets jettisoned into space. But there is still a powerful symbolism in taking a symbol of the hierarchical forces that have tried to constrain you for years and setting it alight to fight back against those forces. Eiffel takes his own approach to survival and puts his own name into the title, an assertion of his agency and rejection of Command's authority.

The DSSPPM tip that he uses here is one of those he considers when stranded on Lovelace’s shuttle. It’s understandable that after that experience it might have stuck in his memory.

I can’t help feeling that the line “as someone once told me” has a double meaning here. The immediate implication is to interpret “someone” as being Pryce and Cutter – it’s their manual after all – which makes this line a fairly effective ‘fuck you’ gesture, emphasising how Eiffel is using Pryce’s manual against her in both an abstract and a physical sense.

But I think “someone” could also mean Minkowski. Eiffel uses a singular rather than plural term, there’s already an association established between Minkowski and the DSSPPM, and, in Mayday, it’s his hallucination of Minkowski that gets him to read this tip. She's probably also recited this tip to him at other points as well. Under this interpretation, this line is as much a gesture of solidarity with Minkowski as it is a taunt to Pryce. I like the idea that these two interpretations can run alongside each other, reflecting the duality of the use of the DSSPPM that I talked about in relation to the liveshow.

Conclusion

The DSSPPM is a symbol of external rules imposed on people by those with power over them. These rules can be strange, arbitrary, and even sinister, but for those with a desire for certainty and control, like Minkowski, they can be tempting. And they can have their uses, as well as the potential to be repurposed. Attitudes towards these rules provide an effective shorthand as part of Minkowski and Eiffel’s characterisation. And the clash between these attitudes, and how that clash manifests, can tell us something about how the dynamic between those characters develops and changes.

[pastel-charm-14]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ masterlist/intro post ♥

(INACTIVE)

﹒──── ✩！ᶻz ⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜ㆍ﹒

◞ ★ ︉﹒hi!! i'm pastel︔

ᨳ i use she/they pronouns ﹕

◞ ★﹒i'm a demigirl︔ ︉

ᨳ i'm bi ﹕

◞ ★ ︉﹒ ︉i like anything pink, sanrio, soft girl stuff, helping people︔

ᨳ i dislike racism, homophobia, misogynism, pedophilia ﹕

◞ ★ ﹒i speak spanish and english, and i'm so happy to meet you all!! let's be friends!︔ ︉

this post is a list of all of the posts i've created thus far. i'll try to update it as often as i can, but please tell me if i miss anything!

﹒──── ✩！ᶻz ⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜⸜ㆍ﹒

q&a is open!

important announcement

romanticizing series:

intro to romanticizing

romanticizing school

romanticizing work

romanticizing your routines

romanticizing friendships

health/wellness/self-care masterlist

personal development/mindset masterlist

beauty/fashion

curling your hair effectively

eye makeup guide

applying lip gloss and lipstick

soft girl minimalism

find your signature scent

soft girl makeup bag essentials

how to do your hair

the art of layering

how to be a soft girl

diy manicure - step-by-step

treasure hunting: a guide to thrifting

embracing pastels

styling your school uniform

creativity/art

nostalgia poem

all too well lyric analysis

journal prompts

bullet journaling

cosy book recommendations

pink poem

pink-themed DIY project

hobby ideas

how to organize your room and keep it that way

aesthetic tips + ideas for your phone

relationships/social

nurturing effective communication

friendship

how to say what you mean and mean what you say

miscellaneous

taking care of succulents

starting a garden

top 10 sanrio characters

editing aesthetic photos

pink velvet cupcakes

floral tea recipe

navigating financial wellness

eco-friendly living

the history of hello kitty

aesthetic YouTube channels to check out

sustainable aviation fuel

how to make a vision board

volunteering

the difference between "i love you" and "love you"

notes

dear diary

what i'm manifesting rn

note: i'm so sorry i had to make a couple more masterlists; the post was getting so long it started glitching when i tried to edit it :)

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

The Darker Days of Me & Him

DARK DRABBLE SERIES - PT3

Paring: Dark Alpha!Bucky X Fem Omega!Reader

Warning:  18+ ONLY. Mature dark themes.

Summary: Dark drabbles of an A/B/O relationship with Bucky. 1200 words.

A/N: I don’t know the ins and out of a A/B/O relationship. So excuse my errors if it’s not factually correct. This is just my playful take on it.  Not betaed any mistakes made are my own.  Feel free to check out the other date in the drabble series,  January 10th | February 13th for more content.

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.  

February 14th

"Here," Bucky whispered.

In front of your face was a plate of food, held aloft by vibranium fingers - a few washed strawberries and ruby-red grapes, a glass of orange juice, and toast; golden brown and evenly buttered. But despite the tempting spread, it did nothing for your appetite. Weakly, you pushed the plate away.

"You need to eat," Bucky urged, his voice low and steady.

But the mere thought of food made your stomach churn. "I'm not hungry," you grumbled, the sour taste of bile rising in your throat.

Undeterred, Bucky drew closer, the weight of his presence causing the mattress to dip. "It doesn't matter," he asserted. "You're only on day two of your heat. You need to keep up your strength."

"I’m fine, Bucky." Dismissively, you turned your head away, but he's on you in a heartbeat, fingers pressed into the hallow of your cheeks as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“The only reason you’re not doubled over in pain right now is because I'm taking care of you." He glanced at the mottled skin on your neck, a reminder of his ravenous kisses. "There's only so much sex can do..." he murmured as he met your gaze for the second time. "You need fuel. You need food. "

You couldn't help but scoff at his words, your eyes darting to the ceiling as you fought back the tears threatening to spill over. It was ironic that he had to remind you of his so-called acts of kindness, as if he wasn't the very reason for your current predicament. As if he didn't relish in watching you crumble beneath him, defiling and filling you again and again.

Your attention was briefly caught as Bucky plucked a succulent strawberry from the plate.  He brushed the fruit against your dry lips as he offered it to you. To an outsider, it may have appeared as a sensual exchange between two lovers.  But to you, it was a painful reminder that your bond with him was not one of choice, but of cruel, unrelenting force.

"Open," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You bristled at the order, your body tense with fury as you glared at him. But deep down, you knew there was no point in resisting. You were his, in every sense of the word, and there was nothing you could do to change that. With a heavy heart, you parted your lips, allowing him to feed you the strawberry. As soon as you opened your mouth, he pushed the fruit inside.

"Chew," he rasped, watching your mouth chew slowly. Bile rose at the back of your throat as you struggled to swallow. The moment you choked it down, he shoved another past your lips. Bucky remained silent as he continued to feed you fruit, his eyes darting between yours and your mouth, while you looked everywhere else except at him.

You had finished the strawberries, and Bucky was making his way through the grapes. He was placing them into your mouth one at a time when you felt it, the lurch in the pit of your stomach. It was instantaneous, and your temperature spiked from the rush. Breaking out into a cold sweat you pushed his hand away and fanned your face in panic. You whined in horror as the tingle in your core intensified and gnawed at your insides. In haste, you thought about touching yourself, but after numerous trials and errors over the last 30 hours, it became clear that masturbation could not satisfy your heat. You whimpered, and Bucky immediately came to your aid.

Placing the plate on the wooden floor beside his feet, Bucky's fingers immediately found the nape of your neck and pulled you close.

It felt like a balm spreading from your lips and cooling your insides as soon as he kissed you. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth, knowingly, hungrily, devouring every taste and sensation within you until he pulled back with a hooded gaze.

"Ple-" you paused, embarrassed that you had to once again plead with the man who forced his mark on you to end your suffering. Instead, you jerked the sheet off your naked body, your fingers tangled between your legs.

The sight of you touching yourself, lips parted and expression pleading was enough for Bucky to shift between your thighs. He removed your hand and slid his palm to your pussy.  You gasped at the contact, your fingers digging into his biceps, your toes curling. Your body trembled and bucked helplessly beneath him while he slowly thumbed your clit.  Two thick vibranium fingers made its way between your slick soaked lips and pushed its way deep within your weeping slit.

You’re sure his aim is to make sure you were ready and wet but you were well beyond foreplay.  You were burning alive, belly gnawing from the inside out and shaking with a need that had you wailing “Just do it already, Bucky.  Just fuck me.”

With a growl, Bucky balanced his weight on his flesh arm while wet vibranium fingers pushed down his sweatpants, his hardened cock bouncing between your thighs. He deliberately slapped his dick against your soaked pussy, leaving sharp aftershocks and coating him well in your slick.  His tongue entered your mouth just as he forced himself inside you.  Your pussy clenching in protest against his thick cock. But even as you whined into his mouth at the intrusion, he felt like heaven.  It felt like he belonged.

“Hard-” you gasped and Bucky complied. Gripping your thighs Bucky folded your legs against your chest.  Keeping you wide open as he fucked you without restraint. Your muscles tensed and stretched, trying desperately not to tear under the force of it.

Bucky leant forward, his mouth fervently placing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. The proximity between his face and yours allowed you to discern the intricate shades of blue that composed his pupils. It struck you that while his eyes appeared calm, a tempestuous storm raged within your own.

Bucky meticulously monitored your every movement, acutely aware of the slightest shifts in your breathing and the desperate sounds escaping your lips. The unwavering intensity emanating from his gaze unnerved you and instinctively you looked away. Yet, Bucky swiftly seized your chin, his grip compelling you to meet his penetrating gaze.

“Don't- don't hide from me." was all he said before stealing your breath with a suffocating kiss.

You felt your spine bow and strain as he moved inside of you, pushing you past the limits of pleasure and pain. Every thrust was relentless yet precise, as if he was trying to stake his claim on you with every movement. His gaze never wavered from yours, and you could feel yourself blurring his features in an effort to escape the intensity of his stare.

His muscles flexed beneath your fingers as his hips continued their hypnotic rhythm, until finally, a deep moan escaped your throat and your climax crashed through you like a thunderstorm, marking its passage with tingles that spread through your entire body. Pinned beneath him, Bucky pounded your pussy until his seed flooded you.  He groaned as he filled you, the sound a mixture of relief and overwhelming pleasure. You couldn’t help but preen at the sound a byproduct of your blood bond.

He stayed there for a long moment afterwards, languidly kissing your neck and stroking your hair before finally withdrawing from you. The rush of sensations had left you dizzied and drained, yet still humming with faint energy that refused to be quelled. Bucky shifted to face you, propping himself up on one elbow as he tenderly wiped away the tears that had begun to spill down your cheeks.

"It'll get easier," he whispered as his vibranium hand gently brushed away the last of your tears. But even in the twilight darkness of the room, you could see the doubt that lingered in his eyes. You could tell he did not believe it.

[seenoversundown]

Masterpost

₊⊹ The Caravel Tavern Series ⊹₊

The opening of Caravel Tavern was a dream come true for Jake. With the help of his best friends and brothers, naturally. In a small city in New England, it's rare to come across new faces. (or even run into some from the past) Follow along through the series to discover what this piratical themed bar has in store for these boys.

WARNING: This series would be considered an AU ROM-COM, with romantic themes, wholesome friendship vibes, found family, and silly goofy behavior throughout.

Trigger Warnings will be listed at the beginning of chapters if applicable. (Please reach out if you feel anything was missed and I will make sure to add it in quickly!)

Please be advised that this series will include slow burn, open-door romances, meaning there will be on-page sexual content. Mature readers only (18+)

• All of these can be read as stand alone books, but do read better as a series! They are interconnected, so you will get more details if read in order 🫶🏻 •

💜 🩵 💛 ❤️

Sam Kiszka x Willa (Fem OC) - Temporary Hiatus

Enemies to Lovers | Forced Proximity | Workplace Romance

Masterpost

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Josh Kiszka x Quinn (Non Binary OC) New posts every Monday!

Love At First Sight | Secret Dating | Friends to Lovers

Masterpost

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

• Book 3 - TBA

Daniel Wagner x Melody (Fem OC)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC) New posts every Thursday!

Workplace Romance | Friends With Benefits to Lovers | He Falls First

Masterpost

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Anything extra that is within the world of Caravel Tavern:

Prologue ⁂ - (Jake POV) : Opening night of the bar and all the festivities that come with that.

Dueling Cameras ⁂ - Sam x Willa (Fem OC) decide to make getting pumpkins into a little competition (per usual) (One Shot)

Chiaroscuro ⁂ - Josh x Quinn (Non Binary OC) attend a local film festival where Josh gets to present a short film he's directed. (One Shot)

Spooks & Cider ⁂ - Daniel x Melody (Fem OC) Back in high school, go to a Fall Festival where Melody faces her fear of the Haunted House. (One Shot)

Affirmation ⁂ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) find themselves in an oddities shop where Charlotte has her tarot cards read, whether she believes in it or not. (One Shot)

Be Naughty, Save Santa The Trip ☠ - Sam x Willa (Fem OC) Sam runs late after a shoot and Willa leaves him a little surprise for when he gets back home to her. (One Shot)

Merry Everything & A Happy Always ⁂ - Josh x Quinn (Non Binary OC) have always had the tradition of baking cookies together, but Josh sets up a scavenger hunt for Quinn to bake some this time for a very special reason. (One Shot)

It's The Most Wonderful Time of Year ⁂ - Daniel x Melody (Fem OC) took on hosting Christmas dinner with everybody but unfortunately for Daniel, nothing is going smoothly. (One Shot)

White Christmas ☠ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) have a million and one things to do on Christmas Day and Charlotte is already stressed by 6 am. Thankfully, Jake knows exactly how to calm her down. (One Shot)

Succulent ☠️ - Sam x Willa (Fem OC) take a little trip to Vermont for Valentine’s Day where Sam cooks up a nice dinner with a great idea for dessert. (One Shot)

Satiate ☠ - Josh x Quinn (Non Binary OC) - Quinn is sweet enough to make breakfast in bed, but also has a devious little plan for their favorite person. (One Shot)

Saccharine ⁂ ☠ - Daniel x Melody (Fem OC) spend a sweet Valentine's Day making cinnamon rolls together and then have a cozy evening away. (One Shot)

Siren ⁂ ☠️ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) get stuck at the bar on Valentine’s Day, but Jake makes sure to make it up to her after the bar closes. (One Shot)

Allure ⁂ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) it's Family Lake day and that means getting to longingly stare at Jake while he takes care of everything he can. (there is a part 2 that's linked at the end <3)

TagList | Jukebox Playlist | Master List (for other one shots / fics)

Wattpad | AO3

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Sixty-Four

As Maera lay in bed that night, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She couldn't shake the weight of the day's events, particularly the sudden responsibility of raising Maelor and Jaehaera as her wards. Despite her attempts to rationalize the situation, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead. The weight of such a responsibility, not only to raise a princess but also the new heir to the throne, Maelor, was staggering.

Earlier, when she had tried to discuss the matter with Aegon, she was met with dismissiveness and indifference. His reaction only added to her frustration and uncertainty. It seemed that her concerns fell on deaf ears, as Aegon left the room with a jug of wine in hand, leaving Maera to grapple with her thoughts. Thankfully, Aemond could read her like a book and asked her if she wished to retire whilst the fellow council members continued to discuss war strategies. Maera all but jumped out of her seat, thanking the Lords for allowing her to be present before scuttling out of the room.

Tossing and turning in the black sheets of her bed, Maera’s apprehension grew. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease at the thought of the children remaining in the capital, especially with the threat of the Blacks closing in and the war raging on. Moreover, Maera had barely begun to come to terms with her own impending motherhood when she was suddenly thrust into the role of caretaker for two more young souls.

She drifted in and out of sleep, her senses attuned to the subtle sounds of the chamber. The soft creak of the doors opening, the rhythmic thud of footsteps, and the rustle of fabric and metal as Aemond undressed for the night. Even as she felt the dip in the mattress beside her, Maera remained still, her back turned toward her husband. She sensed his presence as he settled onto the bed, the warmth of his body radiating through the blankets. When his bare skin touched hers, she couldn't help but shiver at the intimacy of the contact.

Aemond's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and Maera felt the tension in her body slowly melt away. His slender, toned form fit perfectly against hers, offering a sense of comfort and security in the darkness. Despite the weight of their shared burdens and the uncertainties that lay ahead, in that moment, Maera found solace in the embrace of her husband.

The next morning, Maera and Aemond broke their fast together. The table was adorned with a spread fit for royalty: golden-brown loaves of freshly baked bread, platters of succulent fruits, bowls of steaming porridge drizzled with honey, and plates piled high with eggs cooked to perfection.

As they sat across from each other, Aemond scribed on a piece of parchment between bites of his eggs. The pin of the Hand of the King adorned his chest, a symbol of his newfound position in the Small Council. His expression was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he jotted down notes, his movements fluid and precise. Maera observed him from across the table, the morning light casting a soft glow on his features. She couldn't help but admire his dedication and sense of duty.

She sipped her ginger root and wormwood boiled tea with her meal, following the Maester's instructions. Surprisingly, it did indeed help stimulate her appetite, and she found herself happily nibbling away at a slice of toast with honey, much to Aemond’s delight, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed her progress.

Once Maera had finished her meal, she turned her attention to the other dark liquid Maester Orwyle had prescribed. Carefully pouring it onto a teaspoon, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at the pungent smell that wafted up from the spoon. Bracing herself, she brought the teaspoon to her lips and reluctantly swallowed the foul-tasting concoction. A look of disgust crossed her face, and she emitted a groan of distaste as she quickly reached for a cup of water to wash away the unpleasant flavor. Aemond couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at her reaction, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his violet eye.

“I’m sure the unpleasant taste is worth it,” the One-Eyed Prince remarked, glancing up from his work to meet her gaze, before quickly returning to his work.

“You are mot the one that has to drink it,” Maera quipped, refilling her cup with water before downing it again as the aftertaste of the medicine lingered, yet the foul taste of the medication was not the only unpleasant thing lingering. “I cannot help but worry about Jaehaera and Maelor being named as my wards,” Maera admitted, her brow furrowed with anxiety.

Aemond hummed in response as he continued to write on the parchment. “With your plethora of siblings, you should be well-prepared for this,” he teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

Maera rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head. “Yes, but I never expected to be raising royal children,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea. Her gaze turned thoughtful as she added, “And now little Maelor is the heir. I will be responsible for raising a future King, Aemond.”

Aemond looked up at her, expression softened as he reached across the table to gently squeeze her hand, his touch comforting as he reassured her. “They are not just your wards, Maera. They are ours,” he stated firmly. “I will be involved in their upbringing just as much as you.” He paused, his gaze lingering on her. "And it will be nice for our child to be close with their cousins when it enters the world."

A gentle smile graced Maera's lips as she glanced down at her stomach, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought. Looking back up at Aemond, she couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance wash over her. "With you to guide him, Maelor will be a great King," she affirmed, her words earning a genuine smile from Aemond, a silent understanding passing between them.

In that moment of connection, Maera felt a surge of affection for her husband, her heart swelling with love as she gazed at him. She marveled at his sharp features, the way his single violet eye seemed to pierce through her soul, and the slight smirk that played at the corners of his lips. With Aemond by her side, she felt a sense of security and reassurance that everything would be alright, and her love for him only deepened in that moment.

As Aemond finished writing and cleared his throat, Maera’s attention snapped back to the present, her curiosity piqued by his demeanor. With a raised eyebrow, she acknowledged him, nibbling on her toast as she waited for him to speak.

Aemond met her gaze, his violet eye locking with her green ones as he began to speak. “Some information came to light during the council’s discussions last night,” he revealed, his tone serious.

Maera leaned forward, her interest fully captured now. “Go on,” she urged, eager to understand the significance of Aemond’s revelation.

“The other council members informed me of the current strategy in the Reach,” Aemond continued, his expression grave. “We are losing more territories there,” he added, his voice tinged with concern. Maera’s brows furrowed in worry as Aemond’s gaze held hers. “The most recent seats lost to the Blacks were Three Towers and Horn Hill,” he revealed, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air. Horn Hill. House Tarly.

“Wynni.” Maera's eyes widened in concern. That is why her sister had not written. House Tarly had originally sworn to Aegon, hence why the Master of Laws had agreed to a marriage alliance with the minor House for his younger daughter. But now they had turned cloak, meaning the very forces Maera had to support could be the ones responsible for harm to House Tarly, or worse…

Sensing her distress, Aemond moved closer to her, his voice calm and reassuring as he addressed her worries. "Lord Larys is to send spies to Horn Hill to ensure Wynni's safety," he assured her, his tone firm. Maera sighed heavily, her frustration evident as she acknowledged the necessity of relying on Lord Larys, despite her reservations about his character. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Maera reluctantly accepted the reality of the situation, even if it meant dealing with the enigmatic Lord Larys.

Aemond rose from his seat and approached Maera, offering practical wisdom. "Right now, there's nothing we can do," he stated matter-of-factly. Maera nodded, appreciating the rational approach.

The Prince then made a suggestion of distraction. “I am training with the Lord Commander this morning. You are welcome to join as a spectator,” he said with a soft smile. “The fresh air will do you good.”

Maera rose from her seat, a playful glint in her eyes as she quipped, “I never did well as a spectator.” She was insistent on participating in the sparring herself.

A flicker of concern crossed Aemond’s face as he questioned her decision, “Are you sure that’s wise given your…condition?”

Unable to suppress a snicker, Maera reached for a tiny bell and rang it, signaling for the servants to enter. Turning her attention back to Aemond, she reassured him with a mischievous grin, “Our child is a dragon, issa darys. We will be just fine.”

In the courtyard, Maera and Aemond stood face to face, the morning sunlight casting a golden hue over the training grounds. Maera wore her black and gold training leathers, the fabric hugging her form with every movement. Aemond, clad in his customary black leather attire, regarded her with a mixture of admiration and concern. Ser Criston supervised their sparring session, his watchful gaze scanning their every move. He was surprised to see the Princess when she entered the courtyard with her husband and initially expressed his reservations about sparring while pregnant. Maera simply waved off his concerns with a confident smile, reassuring him that she felt perfectly capable.

The couple’s swords clashed with a resounding clang, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard. Maera's strikes were swift and calculated, her movements fluid and precise. She lunged and parried with skill, her focus unwavering as she sought to match Aemond's prowess. The Prince, ever the vigilant protector, adopted a defensive stance, his one-eyed gaze fixed on Maera's every move. He moved with grace and agility, his reflexes honed from years of training. Despite his caution, there was a hint of pride in his eyes as he sparred with his wife, admiring her tenacity and skill.

Yet Maera could not deny that fatigue was hitting much quicker than it usually would. She managed to swiftly manoeuver Aemond to the edge of the courtyard, her blade poised at his throat. With a triumphant grin, she forced him to yield, a flush of exertion coloring her cheeks.

However, her triumph was short-lived as exhaustion quickly washed over her, leaving her feeling drained and slightly dizzy. As Maera sat on the ground, her muscles trembled and she could feel the sweat dampening her brow despite the cool breeze that swept through the courtyard. With each breath, she tried to steady herself, grateful for the respite from their intense sparring session.

Ser Criston approached the pair with a clap of approval, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the ground. "Well fought, Princess," he remarked, his voice gruff yet respectful.

Looking up, she saw Aemond’s concerned expression as he crouched down beside her, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. His hand reached out instinctively and rested gently on her shoulder as he firmly spoke with gentle concern. “You shouldn’t overexert yourself,” he urged, his violet eyes filled with genuine care.

Despite her weariness, Maera managed a weak laugh, her sarcasm tinged with exhaustion. “I will be sure to tell our enemies to go easy on me when they come knocking,” she quipped, her determination shining through even in her fatigue.

As Aemond shook his head at Maera’s stubbornness, Ser Criston extended his hand to help Maera up off the ground, his expression stoic yet kind.

"The Princess might prefer target practice with her daggers or a bow and arrow," he suggested, offering an alternative to the strenuous sparring.

Maera considered the suggestion for a moment before glancing at Aemond, noting the furrowed concern in his gaze, a silent plea for her not to accept for the sake of her health and the child that grew within her. With a reluctant sigh, she conceded, "Perhaps I have had my fill for today."

She thanked Ser Criston and Aemond for allowing her to train with them, then turned to her husband, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. The fleeting moment of connection between them lingered in Maera’s mind as she placed her sword back onto her belt, knowing that their responsibilities would inevitably pull them apart for the remainder of the day.

“I will see you this evening, husband,” she said, her voice gentle yet determined, before turning to make her way back to the castle.

As Maera made her way through the corridors, the flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows along the stone walls, lending an air of mystery to her surroundings. Servants and nobles bowed or curtsied respectfully as she passed, their murmured greetings echoing softly in the dimly lit halls. Despite the fatigue that still lingered in her limbs, Maera couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the exertion of her recent sparring session.

With each step, Maera found herself reflecting on the weighty responsibility that came with her burgeoning pregnancy. Though still in its early stages, a being that was a blend of Maera and her husband, probably now the size of a blackberry, was already having an adverse effect on her body. In the last few days, she found herself growing more attuned to the subtle shifts within herself, embracing the maternal instincts that had began to slowly stir.

Lost in contemplation, Maera found herself smiling softly at the thought of her unborn child. She couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts might occupy their tiny mind as they nestled within her womb. Perhaps they sensed the strength and resilience that coursed through its mother’s veins. Or maybe they wondered why their host was throwing herself around just to enjoy the satisfaction of beating her husband with a sword.

Turning the corner, a sudden flood of light from open doors caught Maera’s attention, bathing the hallway in an unexpected brightness. Instantly recognizing the familiar layout, she realized she was standing outside Queen Helaena’s chambers. Intrigued, Maera approached the open door with cautious curiosity, peering inside to see the queen seated in her chair, her figure illuminated by the soft glow filtering through the windows.

Beside her, a serving girl hovered attentively, holding a plate of food in her hands. With gentle insistence, she encouraged the queen to eat, yet Helaena seemed wholly absorbed in something else. Instead of focusing on the offered meal, Helaena's attention was fixated on her hand, where a small creature crawled. The queen's expression was one of intense concentration, her features drawn into a thoughtful expression as she studied the creature with unwavering focus.

Helaena’s gaze shifted from the insect in her hand to the doorway, her eyes brightened with recognition and warmth. A genuine smile graced her lips, illuminating her face with a radiance that seemed to dispel the shadows of her inner turmoil. With a beckoning gesture, she invited Maera to join her, and without hesitation, Maera hastened into the room, the servant moving aside so the women could sit together.

Settling into the chair beside her old friend, Maera felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. For a moment, they sat together in comfortable silence, reminiscent of the carefree days of their childhood before tragedy had befallen House Targaryen. In that moment, surrounded by the jars of plants and insects that adorned the table, Maera felt a glimmer of hope flicker within her, as well as a longing for the closeness she and Helaena once shared. She grappled with the weight of unspoken words and unasked questions, each one vying for attention in the recesses of her mind. Should she breach the delicate topics that lingered between them, or should she maintain the tranquility of their shared silence?

The burden of the King's request weighed heavily on Maera’s heart, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon her like a stone. She wrestled with the notion of taking on the role of guardian to Helaena's children, the weight of such a duty tugging at the edges of her consciousness. Maera yearned to confide in Helaena, to share the news of her own impending motherhood and seek guidance in the uncertainties that lay ahead. Yet, she hesitated, unsure if it was her place to intrude upon the delicate balance of Helaena's world.

But as the moments passed in silence, Maera hesitated to break the fragile peace that enveloped them. She feared that any words spoken aloud would shatter the delicate equilibrium they had found, scattering the pieces of their connection like shards of glass upon the floor. And so, she remained silent, content to bask in the presence of her friend and the shared stillness of the moment. In the quiet of the chamber, surrounded by the gentle hum of life, Maera found solace in the simple act of being.

It was Helaena who broke the silence first. "Did you know Bess beetles are some of the most dedicated reproductive partners?" Helaena asked, her voice filled with a hint of excitement. Maera leaned in for a closer look, admiring the beetle’s glossy black carapace as it scuttled delicately across Helaena’s skin.

Maera grinned in response. “Is that so, Your Grace?”

Helaena’s eyes sparkled with joy as she shared her knowledge. “Yes. They typically form long-term pair bonds, with a male and female staying together to care for their offspring and maintain their nest,” she explained, her voice soft yet animated. Maera couldn’t help but smile at Helaena’s enthusiasm, a glimpse of the friend she remembered shining through the grief that had consumed her in recent times. “It is quite unusual amongst insects,” Helaena added, her gaze focused on the beetle in her hand.

Maera nodded in agreement as the queen gently placed the insect back in its leaf filled jar. She could not help but admire the tenderness with which her friend handled the tiny creature. With a soft smile, Helaena reached for another jar, her fingers deftly undoing the lid to reveal its contents. From within, she retrieved a vibrant green mantis, its slender form poised gracefully on her outstretched hand. Maera’s eyes widened in awe as she beheld the intricate beauty of the creature, its delicate limbs and angular visage a testament to the wonders of the natural world.

“He is interesting looking,” Maera remarked, her gaze fixed on the vibrant green insect.

“She,” Helaena corrected, her tone soft yet authoritative. “The females are usually bigger than the males, and not very good reproductive partners.” Maera raised an eyebrow in curiosity, prompting Helaena to continue. “She will have males shower her with gifts; intricate dances, offerings of food, and prime breeding ground to lay her eggs,” Helaena explained, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “If she accepts the male, she will take everything he brings her and then allow him to mate, on her terms of course.”

Maera nodded thoughtfully, considering the dynamics of the mantis’s courtship rituals. “That does not seem so bad,” she remarked, her voice tinged with skepticism.

Helaena’s gaze met Maera’s with intensity, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “It gets worse,” she continued, her tone taking on a darker edge. “The male mantis seems to no longer see himself as vulnerable when he has been permitted to mate her, but he could not be more wrong. She will eat his head during the mating to provide sustenance for herself, yet his reproductive instincts are so strong he will not care.”

Maera’s eyes widened in surprise at the macabre nature of the mantis’s behavior. “That seems hard on the poor male,” she commented, feeling a pang of sympathy for the unsuspecting creature.

Helaena giggled softly, finding amusement in Maera’s reaction. “Not necessarily,” she countered. “He views the female as a formidable being with extraordinary abilities.” Maera furrowed her brow, intrigued by Helaena’s perspective. “It is not until the last second that he realizes what has happened,” Helaena continued, her tone tinged with a mixture of fascination and amusement.

“That she has consumed him entirely because she can, and that while the consequences were obvious, his breeding instincts told him not to listen.” With delicate care, Helaena gently guided the mantis back into its jar, her movements deliberate and precise as she secured the lid with a soft click. Not wanting their precious time together to end just yet, Maera seized the opportunity to delve deeper into their conversation.

"Do you think if he knew that it would lead to his demise he would still choose to mate her?" Maera inquired, her curiosity piqued by the complexities of the mantis's behavior.

Helaena paused, her expression thoughtful as she considered the question. "I think some males are dumber than others and would still choose to mate," she finally replied with a faint smile.

Maera couldn't help but roll her eyes in amusement. "Much like human males then," she quipped, finding humor in the comparison.

Their shared laughter filled the room, momentarily lifting the weight of the world from their shoulders. Maera cherished these moments of lightheartedness with her friend, wishing they could last forever. As their laughter subsided, Helaena's expression softened, her thoughts drifting to her beloved son.

"You know who would like her?" she mused, her voice tinged with wistfulness.

"Who?" Maera inquired, her curiosity piqued by Helaena's sudden change in topic.

"Jaehaerys," Helaena replied with a nostalgic smile. "He adored the dead leaf mantises that had been brought to me last time."

The mention of the deceased prince sent a chill down Maera's spine, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken sorrow. "Can you bring him to me? I feel like I haven't seen him in so long," Helaena requested, her voice tinged with longing.

Maera's smile faltered, her gaze filled with sympathy as she reached out to comfort her friend. However, Helaena recoiled at her touch, her confusion evident in the air between them.

"Helaena," Maera began softly, her voice tinged with sadness. But before she could continue, Helaena's gaze locked onto hers, her eyes searching for answers that Maera feared she couldn't provide.

"No... wait, that's not right," Helaena muttered anxiously, her movements growing erratic as she began to pace the room, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

Maera attempted to divert Helaena's attention, desperately trying to prevent the situation from escalating. "Why don't you show me your Perisomena caterpillars? They must be-"

But Helaena abruptly interrupted, whipping around to face Maera with furrowed brows, her eyes searching for answers. "Where is my son?" she demanded bluntly, her tone tinged with desperation.

Maera's heart sank at the question, her eyes welling with tears as she struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry, Helaena... I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

The Queen's distress escalated, tears streaming down her cheeks as she began to hit herself on the head in frustration. "I'm stupid, so stupid... the butcher took him, took his head," she sobbed, her words fragmented by sobs of anguish.

Maera's heart ached at the sight of her friend's agony, and she immediately sprang into action, directing a servant to fetch the Maester. With a nod of understanding, the maid hurried from the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall. Helaena continued to hit herself, the skin beneath her hair no doubt starting to become bruised from the force.

Maera approached her cautiously, her heart heavy with concern. Gently, she grabbed Helaena by the wrists, pulling her hands away from her head. "Stop it, Helaena," she urged firmly, her voice tinged with urgency.

Helaena's breathing quickened, her gaze desperate as she looked at Maera. With a sense of foreboding, she muttered ominously, "The hatchling will be scorched by dragon fire in the castle of the old Kings Curse."

Maera's heart skipped a beat at the cryptic words, her mind racing with concern for her friend's well-being. Her green eyes widened in shock as the weight of Helaena’s warning settled over her like a suffocating blanket. Maera's desperation was palpable as she pleaded with Helaena for answers, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

"What does that mean, Helaena?" she implored, her eyes searching her friend's face for any sign of clarity.

Helaena's response sent shivers down Maera's spine, her words carrying an eerie resonance that filled the air with a sense of foreboding. "A babe," she replied cryptically, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze distant as if she was lost in the depths of her own mind.

Maera's heart raced with apprehension as she watched Helaena's gaze drift down to her stomach. The flickering flames of the candles cast dancing shadows across Helaena's features, lending her an otherworldly appearance. "Whose baby? My baby?" Maera's voice trembled with urgency, her fingers tightening around Helaena's wrists in a desperate attempt to keep her grounded. "Helaena, is my baby in danger?!" she demanded. But as Helaena tried to pull away, Maera held fast with all her strength, her emotions roiling within her like a tempestuous sea. She was unsure what had overcome her, but hearing that there may be a threat to her child made her feel out of control.

Before Helaena could respond, Maera felt herself being pulled away from the Queen, who was also being restrained by the serving girl from before and a guard. Maera looked behind her to see her protector Ser Arryk and her loyal maid, Thena, with their arms around her in restraint.

Across the room, Maester Orwyle stood with a bag of concoctions, his expression grave as he addressed Maera with a sense of urgency. The flickering candlelight cast deep shadows across his weathered face, accentuating the lines of worry etched into his features. "I suggest you leave, Princess. Seeing the Queen in such a hysterical state will do you no good," he advised, his tone firm yet tinged with concern.

Reluctantly, Maera allowed herself to be escorted out of the chambers, her heart heavy with worry for her friend and her unborn child. As she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw Helaena fall to her knees, her screams echoing through the halls, a haunting reminder of the darkness that had consumed her.

Tags: @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @0eessirk8 @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[sea-lanterns]

Hii I’m bored some I’m gonna ask a few questions

1. Do you plan on playing any other games but haven’t had the chance? If so what games?

2. What’s your favourite genre of music?

3. Do you have favourite books or movies?

4. Who’s your favourite artist?

5. Do you enjoy travelling?

6. What food do you enjoy?

7. How do you spend your weekends?

8. Do you like gardening?

9. What’s your favourite season?

That’s all I hope that’s not too many 😅 (can I be 🪸 anon btw?)

I am assuming you are the same anon that asked me how I discovered genshin and I already said you could be 🪸 anon! You can scroll down my posts to see that I had already answered your ask :)

1. I want to play Stardew Valley but I have no PC.

2. Usually indie pop or kpop.

3. Book: The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Movie: Parasite

4. It changes a lot, but right now Chappell Roan like everyone else 😅

5. No, I’m a vacation person! I like to relax in some fancy resort somewhere rather than actually travel and explore. (I’m spoiled)

6. I like seafood and iced tea that I cannot open.

7. Either helping out my family with errands or getting dragged to some party.

8. I used to own like 15 different succulents before my dad accidentally killed them by overwatering them 😭. He didn’t understand they didn’t need that much water…

9. Summer if it wasn’t obvious from my blog theme!

[skynapple]

Budding Romance | Ch. 6

Love and Deepspace | Jeremiah x MC / slow-burn / friends-to-lovers

warnings: none

Multi-chapter | A03 link

Beginning | <- Prev | Next ->

Jeremiah is dragged along and encounters some thistles.

Oh, Xavier would die if he were here. If only he could see me right now...

The night market was two blocks of Linkon City's downtown district, lined with booths selling trinkets, crafts, art, food trucks, and a few games that were easy enough to tear down and store away. They arrived at a themed booth that looked like it was representative of a popular toy brand he could have sworn he recognized. 

It was some kind of toss-in-a-hole game but with pebble-like stars that looked like they barely fit in the holes on the board. They stood in line and watched child after child try and fail, the angled edges of the stars often catching the edge of the hole causing it to bounce right out.

Jeremiah immediately failed to see how it was a two-person game. "So, how exactly is this two-player?" He said, always one to speak what he was thinking.

"Well, look how hard it is!" She deflected quickly. "If it was just me, I wouldn't have that many chances. But with you, I'll definitely have a better shot."

"Ok. But, why-" 

"NEXT!" The irritated teenager called out to the line, interrupting his thought.

She seemed to know what he was asking anyways. "Well, I also wanted to thank you for helping me the way you did before, maybe get you away from the shop for a little bit? I dunno..." She looked at her shoes, shyly. "And like I said, all my other friends were busy, so I thought, why not?"

It warmed his heart to hear her so sincere.

"I thought I'd mentioned before, no need to thank me. Any friend of Xavier's is a friend of mine. It's an honor to help out a Deepspace Hunter." He pretended to roll up his sleeve. "So don't you worry, ma'am. We'll definitely win this."

They definitely did not. 

Sure enough, their handful of stars each bounced right after the holes, try as they might.  "These stupid stars." She said, gritting her teeth bitterly as they turned away after both of their turns had passed. "Yeah!" He agreed, "I can't believe they made it like this! It's impossible." A familiar feeling settled in his heart. In a strange way, it reminded him of losing a wanderer fight. He turned to her, resolved as her own words to him from so long ago came back to him.

Sharpen your sword, Jeremiah.

He may have had no idea what the prize was, but he was not going to let her back down so easily. "What are we waiting for?" He nudged his chin towards the line, already hurrying to the back of it.

After an hour of playing over and over, the teen attendant felt bad and admired their persistence in being the only ones to try again and again. "Yeah, it's kinda rigged not gonna lie." The kid said with a wink and handed one of the prizes over. "It's day one. No one's gonna know if one's gone.

And so she'd finally obtained her prize.

"This is what you wanted?" He remarked at huge succulent thistle plushie that she needed both of her arms to hold onto. 

"This is the same one they have at my favorite arcade! But this one is Linkon limited edition and they only have it here! I'm trying to collect them all. I can't believe I got it!"

He laughed. "It's so cute! Glad I could be of service."

She buried her face in it, taking in the artificial scent. "Let's get a picture?"

"Yes!" He quickly agreed and slung an arm around her shoulders to take the photo with his phone.

"Can I post this?" She asked eagerly after admiring the selfie.

A wicked grin grew on his expression. "Of course!"

He was mentally preparing to tease Xavier when the feeling of her warm hand fingers clenched around his palm interrupted his thoughts. It lasted only a millisecond -just a quick squeeze, to say thank you- but it left his heart pounding.

"Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh-..." He stammered. What in the world? "No problem."

Suddenly he felt like it was the first time he really looked at her. Inexplicable emotions rising as he stared. Would the woman he'd known head have spent so much time attempting a plushie? Who would have been at her side then?

"Something on my face?" 

"Hmm? No. I was just wondering how in the world you're going to get that plushie through your door."

She laughed. "That's why it's squishy!"

Before he could say anything else, she was pointing out a food stall.  "After all that effort, I'm starving! Oh, and foods on me. No arguing. Everything here is so good. But you know what's really good here? You can get hot dogs dipped in fried potatoes. Have you ever had one?"

"I can't say that I have..."

Jeremiah had no idea what to think as he followed her, barely hearing her as she began to point out the other stalls over the thoughts swirling in his head. Part of him was pleased that he could spend so much time casually with her like this. It was a refreshing replacement to all the negative memories spent at war, and nice to be around her in such a joyous, youthful way. It was nice to feel like she was his friend again.

But she's not. She has no idea. I'm just a stranger. A friend of a friend.

Maybe if she knew who he was, he'd feel better about it. He'd know where he stood; he'd know his place with her. With this in mind, the other thoughts were about how jealous Xavier would be. While at first it was funny and he was never one to shy away from making him more jealous, he never actually wanted to get in the way of anything between them. For as long as he'd known the both of them, they'd only ever had eyes for each other and that was not something he felt like he could or should interfere with. A sinking feeling grew in his stomach that maybe this was too far?

No, this is fine. This is casual. If I was any one of her other friends, she'd be doing the same. Now he chided his racing thoughts. This is nothing. He can't be too mad about this. Just helping her out, like always.

"Any of those sound good?" She was asking. Even though she'd spent so much time listing all their options, he hadn't heard a single one.

"Well, my mind kinda stayed on the Korean hot dogs. What did you say, potatoes, huh?"

"Yes! Ok, you're going to love it. Let's get in line!"

He smiled. "Yes, ma'am! Lead the way."

This is nothing.

--

When he got home later that evening, he had half a mind to gloat to Xavier and send him the picture he'd taken, but hesitated.

He's going to kill me.

Right when his thumb hovered over his contacts, a notification from a new sender lit up on his screen.

Miss ma'am: [Had fun tonight :) thanks for the help! It got through the door!]

He pursed his lips together and thought long about what to reply. [Np! Had fun too.] Was all he was going to leave it at.

She replied less than a minute later. Miss ma'am: [Btw I need help tomorrow. My real succulent died :(]

[Send pics.]

Miss ma'am: [Its too dark rn. I'll pop by the shop tomorrow.]

He thought about it. [Closed tomorrow.]

Miss ma'am: [Oh ok! I'll send pics then.]

He thought about it some more. [I'll swing by?]

Miss ma'am: [That works!! Do you have Xavier's address? Same building. I can let you in.]

[Ya. What time?]

Miss ma'am: [Noon?]

[Kk!]

For a while he tried not to overthink it. It was just helping out an old friend, for which he felt he owed her a lot anyways.

...This is nothing.

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Botanical Adventures

This week’s games are all plant or plant-themed. Whether Ferns, Flowers, or Fungi, if you have a green thumb you might enjoy these games!

Plant Girl Game, by Dominique Dickey.

Your mother’s garden is crowded with succulents and sometimes—when the timing is just right, when your whole family is ready—one of those succulents emerges from the garden as a human child. This is how you came to be: you climbed out of the soil, between the ages of ten and thirteen, and found your family ready to love you. 

Plant Girl Game is a cozy tabletop roleplaying game about a family of plant children working together to prevent an ecological disaster. You don’t have to be a girl, but you do have to be a plant. Your character’s gender is not essential to the game. In fact, the real plant girl is your mom—the kind-hearted witch who grows children in her garden.

Plant Girl Game puts a lot of focus on building a world that is fun and engaging to play in. It emphasizes the usefulness of safety tools, and provides a list of questions to custom-create your very own Plant mom, as well as the place you’re growing up in. The ashcan play-kit comes with three genera, although there are nine total to choose from in the full version. Characters have 3 stats, which they will add to a d6 when they roll to determine how they succeed or fail. Success can come with complications or advantages, so you have a lot of room for layered storytelling!

Mossy Mechanics, by Sinta Posadas / Diwata ng Manila

You've seen the power of the Succulent Sorcerers, you've experienced how a Petal Paladin enacts their order, and you have been beholden to the strength of the Bonsai Brawlers - now, be enchanted by the prowess of the Mossy Mechanics!

This is actually a series of recommendations, rather than one. The Planted RPG series contains four iterations with a simple premise: you are small plants on a grand quest. In Succulent Sorcerers, you use your magic to defend Mother Succulent. In Petal Paladins, you are defenders of the plants that cannot defend themselves. In Bonsai Brawlers, you are miniature trees who have dedicated themselves to a special fighting style in order to protect what you love. Finally, in Mossy Mechanics, awakened by the “Other Mother” and faced with a decision: will you support her plan for world domination, or will you work against her? 

The basic mechanics are the same for each game. There are two stats: Resist, and Raw Magic. Characters contain three hit points, and two points of Rot. In order to push yourself to do better, you can spent a point of Rot to automatically succeed. If you fill up your Rot, take one damage and add a dot to either Resist or Raw Magic. Each game also comes with character options as well as game flavour in the form of character classes, dark secrets, roll-tables for scenarios, and premise to get the game going!

Orchidelirium, by aethercorp Games.

Take on the mantle of a grizzled and hardy orchid hunter in 1865, traversing the depths of unchartered territories in search of rare, elusive, and above all, expensive orchids for your shady employer, J. Carmichael & Associates.

For the Games Master, Orchidelirium provides a simple ruleset, an adventure, and improvisation tools to help build an adventure of discovery at the table.

Orchidelerium is mostly an adventure game with orchids added in to give a unique flavour to the genre. However, playing cards add a unique mechanic that enable setting and adversary generation  in such a way that both the GM and the players have a bit of an oracle to help guide their way. The book comes with a lovely centrefold useful for keeping track of the obstacles the group will run up against along the way, as well as a reference page to enable quick look-up of prompts. All in all, a lovely book!

Little Garden, by Five Points Games.

Little Garden is a game about decline, corruption and perhaps even a little hope at the end of it all.

Play as Nomes, helpful garden Spirits, trying to maintain their bucolic home after the absence of the Garden's creator. Fight back dangerous beasts, vagrants from the encroaching wilds, and tend to the animals and other denizens that make their home with you. At least, for as long as you can, that is. The Wilds will not slow their encroachment, decline is inevitable.

This game is sorted into three rounds: Discovery, Deliberation, and Resolution. In the Discovery Round, the GM will introduce problems that the players will have to confront, using options from a series of GM moves to create obstacles. In Deliberation, players will use a pool of 8 d6s to take turns using moves from the Player options in order to confront the obstacles. At the end of the Deliberation round, the GM will resolve any un-resolved actions in a Resolution round before starting another turn with a fresh Discover Round. This will continue until one of three conditions are met, in which the game ends. If you like structured gameplay with an easy-to-read list and a theme of slow decline, you might want to check out this game!

Mushrooms & Magic, by FeatherBoy.

Years after a mysterious series of magical Churnings, kingdoms of Mushrooms awoke in a world left behind by the Ancients, surrounded by strange beasts and remnants of ancient technology from when "humans" walked the soils. In the years following, Mushroomkind fought and explored, discovered and innovated. But Mushrooms are small, and the world is large; much remains to be learned, and countless adventures are still to be had. Will you answer the call?

Mushrooms & Magic runs using a modified Powered by the Apocalypse / Monster of the Week-like system, with new mechanics for tool crafting, abilities, and several magic types. The game only requires one die - a d20 - and makes use of just four basic stats. While not necessarily rules-light, plenty of room is left within the game's structure for players to modify core abilities and attributes (and add their own!) as wanted within campaigns, and GM's are encouraged to have fun with the setting above all else.

Unlike the stats we’re used to seeing in PbtA games, Mushrooms & Magic uses a stat wheel, along with optional intermediary stats to cover actions that don’t seem to fit one solid option. Similar to many tabletop rigs, your character choice will influence options available to you - characters will pick both a Role and a Clade that embodies their character. A Role is similar to character class - it tells us something about what your character has to contribute. Clades indicate your character’s mushroom type, and give you a starting health and some innate talents - similar to Race in Dungeons & Dragons.  If you’re looking for some good fungal fun, I recommend Mushrooms & Magic!

The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs and Ray Chou.

Some three hundred years ago the empires of the world were toppled by a wave of fast-growing greenery, a tide of rampant growth spilling from the West. This event, the Verdancy, gave rise to the world you’ll explore as you play - a titanic expanse of rustling waves and sturdy boughs known as the Wildsea.

Your character is a wildsailor, part of a crew cutting their way across the island-studded wilderness of the treetop sea on a vessel of your very own. You’ll clash with survivor cultures and wild beasts, scavenge and salvage for wreckage and trade-goods, chase rumours, and uncover secrets. The focus of this game is on exploration, progress, and change - you’ll define the world of the Wildsea as you sail it.

If you like giant forests, leviathan squirrels, and the rambunctious energy of a motley crew crawling its way through a tangle of branch and bramble, this is the game for you. The Wild Words system, birthed in this game, relies heavily on player contributions and small seeds called Whispers to generate new locations, obstacles, and treasure for your crew of wildsailors to explore, befriend, tame, and slay. The setting alone is worth the investment in this game.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕖

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

Summary: Teaching a Norse God about your Christmas traditions did not sound like something you expected to be doing. But when his enthusiasm sparks happiness in your fellow Avengers, you can’t say you regret it.

Warnings: kissing? Christmas. That’s really it, I’m pretty sure.

“I’m sure Steve already explained the basics of Christmas to you and Loki?” You guessed, walking down the halls of the Compound with the Asgardian prince himself.

“You are correct to assume such. He and the man of spiders explained your Midgardian traditions to me. I find it quite enjoyable!” His booming voice proved his excitement.

“Well, that’s what we’re decorating for.” You grinned, shifting the way you were holding the large cardboard box. “You haven’t been on Earth for Christmas yet, have you?”

“Indeed not.” He replied, carrying the huge Christmas tree box as if he was carrying an empty paper bag. His strength was still amazing to you, even though you’d known him for over two years at this point.

“Okay. Well, basically, all of us celebrate here in the Compound. Most of us don’t have anywhere else to go, but anyone who has a family—like Clint and Sam—can bring their family up here for the Holidays. It’s fun. We have dinner together, we decorate, and we do all the other holiday traditions together.” You summarize.

“Decorating is what we are doing now?” He questioned. You nodding, grinning. “This is Wanda’s favorite part. And maybe mine too, but I really like it all.”

Thor nodded along as you reached the living room. The plan was to have two Christmas trees in the living room; one on each side of the TV. Sam, Wanda, Bucky, Steve, and Nat were already setting up the tree on the left of the TV.

“You can set the box down right there.” You pointed to a space near one of the three large couches.

He did, setting it down and watching as you began to open it.

You listened to Bucky and Sam argue over ornaments, laughing quietly to yourself.

You guided Thor on how to attach the three parts of the tree together. He picked it up quickly, and you were slightly surprised at how easily it came to him. He picked out the prettiest ornaments, placing them on the higher part of the tree. It was helpful, considering you couldn’t reach that part of said tree.

“I don’t know why Tony chose 9’0 trees,” you handed Thor the star that was meant to go on the top of the tree.

“For style!” Bucky grunted, and you looked over in the direction of the strained voice.

Sam was sitting on Bucky’s shoulders, stretching up to tie a bow on top of the tree.

“You guys know we have a ladder, right..?” You blinked. Wanda shook her head at you; Nat made a swift ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture.

You chuckled at the two idiots, watching them bicker with each other. You turned your gaze to Steve, finding him to be staring at the two of them like a disappointed father.

“Jesus Christ.” You murmured.

“That would be the wrong God,” Thor teased. You laughed a little, shaking your head. “You know what I meant.”

You continued putting up decorations, and his excitement was contagious.

It was when he kissed you that you were shocked.

“Wh-what was that for?” You stared up at the God.

“Your tradition. I saw a green plant.” He pointed to Pepper’s fake succulent she forced Tony to keep in the Compound’s kitchen, which you were currently decorating in.

“What?” You stared at him, utterly confused.

“The green plants. And kissing a beautiful person.”

You felt your cheeks get hot at that. “I—thank you? But..that’s not it. It’s mistletoe. You hang it from somewhere, and then if you and someone else stand under it at the same time, you have to kiss.”

“I think I like my version better,” he murmured, placing his finger under your chin, leaning in slightly. “May I?” His voice was deep, rugged. And so fucking hot.

You nodded, and then he kissed you. Maybe you liked his tradition better, too.

A/n: sorry for the recurring theme of mistletoe, I swear the next few days will be more original.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

tomorrows hint:

Oh-ho, the mistletoe Is hung where you can see Somebody waits for you Kiss her once for me

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Do you have any plans to write another dubious oneshot kind of like the honeymoon one? I read it the other day and I didn't even think I would like anything dubious but that one was so succulent and delectable, and now I find that I'm searching for something to give me that kind of high again, a dubious piece that has just the right amount of innocence, male manipulation, and vulnerability sprinkled on top, loved it, really loved it.

Plans? Oh honey….

I so would. I so will. I so am.

To put it in lay terms, that’s my jam, I’m afraid, dubious consent and entitlement in the right setting is a dynamic that tickles me like few things can and I have actually been longing to write some more of it and yet none of my current universes have the context for it. Unless you count Sarge and the Wedding Night (which you may enjoy and it is possible to read as a stand alone.) so, that must be remedied.

Which leads me to…what I have in mind.

Context is entirely what makes this sexy to me. And for Elvis that context has to be very particular. Or else I just don’t find it in character and then I am jarred out of the story from the beginning. So allow me to dither away a little bit regarding motivation and plots, I love hearing your own opinions and perspectives on things like this, helping me craft more accurate stories, hopefully. Testimonial after testimonial, one anecdote and a thousand, there’s a common theme of this man not being pressuring in the slightest over and over again with his various conquests or flirtations. plenty of women have written about turning him down and the way he surprised them by not only being respectful of that but also lingering and enjoying their company despite knowing ‘he wouldn’t get anything from it’. While others, such as Linda to name the most prominent, talk about how his gentle and patient ways actually lead them to being ready for more.

So where does that put us when it comes to this delicious possibility of him acting entitled? In my mind I pretty much solely see it as being in a marriage, where his old-fashioned opinions would suggest he has a right to you and also where he would be operating from a consideration that you are not indeed totally unconsenting, but rather too flighty or stubborn to admit or enjoy what you want. Which is him right? Of course you want him, ha! Which leaves him with the need to make you enjoy it. Or to quote Honeymoon itself… “make this marriage work.” 😏 

That’s a brief summary of motivations I require personally for myself to even begin to explore this, but how fun is that? I love fresh, new little brides of all types. You can have the sprightly and daring ones covering up their trepidations, the demure and naïve ones desperate to please, or the shocked and aghast little darlings who need a bit of firm cajoling and their marriage vows thrown at them when they resist. All these are scrumptious scenarios and I have endless ideas for them.

Currently in the works I have two, one more advanced than the next that I see featuring this dynamic. One is very similar to a honeymoon, it would not incorporate honeymoon but it would be almost the same vibes with a vignette of storylines. The other one I am even more excited about, which I’ve begun with writing out a bit more on Regency Elvis. Which would be absolutely full of this dynamic and a married strangers to lovers trope that is one of my all time favorites on top of that.

Anyways, I’ve gone on and on but I squealed with joy over your ask because I really love how much you enjoyed it and enjoy it similarly myself. I always welcome prompts and plots and ideas, you never know what might get interwoven into any story of mine.

Xoxo

Marina 

[kaleidoscopek9]

Someones gotta ask.

Do you have any angst/hurt and comfort headcanons for Punk!Sun and Punk!Moon? :000

Moon angst:

He despises the company, and hates that he is “owned” by them

In my canon, both he and Sunny started as the original daycare attendants before the company rebranded. They both had to go through reprogramming, which included a memory wipe

Moon has snippets of memories from his time as Sunny’s counterpart in the daycare, but he has no idea what they mean

He still has remnants of the “glitch” in his system that the reprogram didn’t destroy. It acts almost like a weak EMP that he uses to temporarily disable the tracker beneath his faceplate, allowing him to sneak out at night. He’s withheld that info from Sunny because he knows he’d go absolutely frantic over it

He’s paranoid of the company finding out about it, because it means he could be decommissioned, go through another reprogramming and risk losing it forever, or worse… being replaced.

It’s one of the reasons why he is constantly on Sunny’s back about “following the rules”, even though Moon frequently breaks one of the most well-defined ones almost every week. He doesn’t want Sunny to get into trouble with management. He’s trying to protect him

He feels a lot of guilt about being able to sneak out, while Sunny can’t. He knows it’s selfish to keep doing it, but he literally can’t help himself

Sun angst:

He remembers the daycare theme song because it played on loop 24/7. He can play it on the keyboard that they own, and he doesn’t know what it’s from or how he knows it, only that it gives him a bittersweet feeling whenever he hears it

Kids are not a very common sight amongst their fans, but whenever Sunny sees one he feels an overwhelming urge to protect them and/or interact with them. He has no idea why

He is suspicious in the fact that moon sneaks out. Moon tries his best to pretend that he isn’t almost always running on low battery, but Sun can tell. And he knows it’s not from all the time Moon spends practicing his bass. He doesn’t want to outright accuse him of it though, in fear of being wrong

No matter how many times he may deny it, he is jealous of the spotlight Moon tends to always have on him. There’s been moments where he feels overshadowed by his partner during their performances, and he feels very guilty about it. He thinks it’s wrong of him to feel that way

Moon comfort:

He loves the moon/stars. They remind him that the world is so much bigger than him, and that there’s so much out there for him. They make him feel less trapped

He secretly likes when Sunny puts goofy-ass stickers on his guitars. He likes to put up a fuss saying they’re impossible to get off when really, he never tries to remove them in the first place

He likes the soft, muffled sound of old record music. Unfortunately, management doesn’t allow them to keep players on the tour bus, so he resorts to internet videos

He is very fond of plush things. Soft things. He’d rather be decommissioned than have his fans learn that a spiked, sharp-toothed punk rocker like him is a fan of plushies and stuffies tho, lol. It’s a very well-guarded secret of his

Sun comfort:

He stims with his rays! Whenever he gets so excited or happy that he feels like he’s gonna explode, his rays start spinning like a windmill, lol. He also tends to flutter his hands a lot

He really likes succulents & plants. He’s got a small collection of them stacked up in the windows of their tour bus. He likes to give them names & talk to em :)

He is best friends with Chica! He’s able to keep in contact with her back at the Plex through a repurposed Faz-watch, and they love to talk and catch up with each other

He’s a big fan of graffiti-styled art and tye-dye. Management allowed him to spray paint his personal charging station since him & Moon were fitted with older outdated ones that the company doesn’t use anymore. He’s also got a lot of tye-dye shirts he’s made that he likes to lounge around in when he & Moon aren’t performing.

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Silver platters and ornate serving dishes hold a dazzling array of foods. Roasted game birds, their golden skins glistening, are surrounded by mounds of freshly harvested vegetables, their colors vivid and appetizing. Plates of succulent meats, carved to perfection, promise a culinary delight to all who partake. Goblets and chalices, crafted from fine metals and adorned with gemstones, hold a variety of wines, from deep reds to sparkling whites. The rich aroma of aged wine mingles with the tantalizing scents of the feast, creating an intoxicating bouquet in the air.

As the lords and ladies gather around the table, the atmosphere is one of conviviality and celebration. Laughter and animated conversation fill the hall as guests take their seats. Maera approached the table, her eyes scanning for familiar faces. Her father, Lord Jasper Wylde, sat three seats away from King Aegon, who was already in a boisterous mood, his booming voice carrying down the table. Aemond occupied the seat immediately to the left of the King, leaving a space for Maera between him and Lord Jasper.

Her gaze was soon drawn to Aegon's face, and she stifled a gasp as she noticed the bruise on his cheek, similar shades of black and purple that still adorned her arms and neck. It was clear that Aemond had indeed made Aegon regret his actions. The thought of Aemond punching Aegon for the sake of her sent a wave excitement and nervousness flushing through her body. As she took her seat, Maera looked at Aemond, her expression a mix of surprise and gratitude. He smirked at her, taking a casual sip from his goblet, and she couldn't help but smile in return, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

“The Jewel of Rainwood! Mayflower, you look exquisite.” The King called across to her, smirking as he took in the sight of her in her shining turquoise and gold leathers, her deep brown hair pinned away from her face.

“Your Grace,” Maera muttered, granting him a respectful nod. The anger within her still burned bright from Aegons attempted assault. Noticing the King’s eyes roaming her body made her muscles tense, her demeanour now catching Aemonds attention as well. Aegon caught his brothers eye before quickly looking away, turning his attention back to his goblet.

A few seats remained empty opposite the Wylde’s, causing a delay in the feast. Maera mingled with the guests surrounding her, a lord from House Tyrell and a Lady from House Lannister, exchanging pleasantries and compliments on attire. There was a movement around Maera as she continued her conversations, the final few vacantseats being filled. Aegon greeted the new arrivals, commenting to Maera, with an air of amusement, that he believed Maera and the new arrival had already crossed paths. Maera, her fingers subtly tightening around her goblet, raised it to her lips as she turned to meet the person's gaze, nearly choking on her wine when she saw who it was.

It was Ser Reginald Penrose, the very man she had rejected years ago and the one who had spread those baseless rumors about her maidenhood. He had aged since she had last saw him four years prior. His steel-grey eyes carried the same seriousness, ahead of deep black hair, neatly cropped at a medium length, framed his face. He dressed in well-maintained, polished armor that reflects the colors and sigil of House Penrose, two white feathers crossed against a background of red. Maera’s face remained composed, but turmoil raged within her.

This was Aegon's scheme, she realized—to embarrass her publicly. Maera forced herself to offer a brief but polite greeting to Ser Reginald, who replied with a curt nod. She couldn't help but glance at her father, who seemed on the verge of fury, his fists clenched around his cutlery. Aemond, on the other hand, appeared cool but had a noticeable tension in his clenched jaw. Then, her gaze shifted to Aegon, who sported a smirk that betrayed his satisfaction. He was relishing this awkward entertainment, and Maera knew she would need to tread carefully during this feast.

As the food began to be served, Maera made a concerted effort to divert her attention away from the pain and anger that having Ser Reginald seated across from her ignited. Instead, she scanned the hall, observing the other guests and their sigils. She recognized the emblems of Houses Peak, Swyift, Blackwood, and others adorning the attire of various Lords and Ladies in attendance.Despite the initial air of celebration, the atmosphere remained thick with tension. Conversations hushed as King Aegon directed his attention squarely at Ser Reginald, setting the stage for an uncomfortable exchange.

Aegon's voice, laced with a twisted amusement, cut through the silence. "I believe, Ser Reginald, you were intended to marry Lady Maera," he proclaimed, his tone dripping with sly condescension.

Before Ser Reginald could respond, Lord Jasper Wylde interjected, his voice firm and resolute. "The match was not deemed advantageous enough for my daughter, my King, so they were never promised to each other," he declared, defending his decision.

Ser Reginald, his demeanor gruff and unapologetic, retorted, "I am glad the Gods intervened so that I could continue my search for a more suitable, purer woman to take to wife."

Maera couldn't contain her own response, her voice edged with a mixture of irritation and sarcasm. She spoke out, her voice carrying a trace of icy composure, "I'm not surprised, Ser Reginald, that you remain unmarried if this is how you handle rejection."

Ser Reginald, perhaps fortified by the wine, took a long gulp from his goblet before adding with a smirk, "Whatever feelings I had for you, Lady Maera, are long gone... as has your Maidenhead."

The room seemed to still as Lord Jasper, unable to contain his anger any longer, rose from his seat, fists crashing onto the table. King Aegon couldn't help but revel in the chaos he'd orchestrated, a snicker escaping him from behind his goblet.

Maera, keenly aware of the dangerous path this conversation was taking, urged her father to sit back down, her voice laced with frustration, "Father, please, sit down."

Reluctantly, Lord Jasper complied, the weight of the situation and the King's presence compelling him to control his rage. Maera's resolve, however, remained unbroken. She emphasized to Ser Reginald, "A feast in front of the King is hardly the place for such discussions, Ser Reginald. My father will deal with you later for your insolence."

Aegon seized the opportunity to mockingly interject, his laughter nearly choking him, "Tread carefully, Ser Reginald. As they say, 'The Seven Hells hath no fury like a woman scorned.'"

Maera's eyes blazed with anger, a retort at the tip of her tongue, but her father squeezed her hand in her lap, a silent plea for restraint. Reluctantly, she bowed to her father's unspoken request, casting her gaze downward in a defeated acceptance of the night's circumstances.

A small, barely audible hum emanated from beside Maera, and she turned to find Aemond fixedly staring at Ser Reginald, his jaw clenched, fingers rhythmically drumming against the table.

Aemond's voice sliced through the tension, his words confident and unwavering. "This feast seems to be the perfect place to discuss such matters," he declared, directing his piercing gaze at Ser Reginald. Maera's eyes remained locked on Aemond, her expression a mixture of confusion, surprise, and a growing curiosity about his intentions. What was he up to?

The One-Eyed Prince addressed Ser Reginald directly, his tone demanding answers. "Who, Ser Reginald, in your learned opinion, took Lady Maera's Maidenhead?" he inquired, his voice carrying a weight of authority. Maera's heart pounded, unsure of what Aemond was attempting.

Ser Reginald responded swiftly, his tone mocking and filled with malice. "It was Ser Olyver Trant," he retorted, his words dripping with disdain. "He clung to Lady Maera as if she were a bitch in heat.” The laughter of some of the men around him filled the air, and Maera's anger surged, threatening to erupt. But then she felt it—another firm squeeze on her hand, but not from her father, from Aemond. The touch sent a confusing jolt of emotions coursing through her. It was a gesture that, in the chaos of the moment, paradoxically comforted her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, and decided to trust Aemond's judgment, whatever it might be.

Aemond wasn't finished. He continued his inquiry, shifting the focus. "When do you believe this incident occurred, Ser?”

Ser Reginald's response was swift and assured. "It happened between the time Lady Maera received a letter from her brother Dermot, about his arrival in Volantis and the moment my proposal was rejected by her father, Lord Jasper."

“And you are quite certain of this?” Aemond pressed the knight once more. Ser Reginald's response resolute.

"I swear by the Old Gods and the New, my Prince," he affirmed. There were quiet conversations happening amongst the spectators of Lords and Ladies at the table, who were watching the awkward situation unfold.

With a satisfied nod and still holding Maera's hand, Aemond called across the table to Lord Larys Strong, the Master of Whispers, who sat on the opposite end. "Lord Larys," Aemond inquired, "can you tell us how long Maera's brother had been in Essos before he wrote that he was in Volantis?"

Larys replied promptly, "Seven moons, my Prince. "

Aemond continued his line of questioning. "And how long had Ser Olyver Trant already been in Essos after Maera received that letter from Lord Dermot?"

Larys responded, "Four moons."

A triumphant smile graced Aemond's lips as he thanked the Master of Whispers for providing clarity on the matter. His gaze returned to Ser Reginald, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he demonstrated to the other party guests that the story the knight had spun wasn’t exactly adding up. With the pieces of the puzzle falling into place, the table buzzed with murmurs as Ser Reginald's body began to tense at the unwanted attention.

The web of lies that had ensnared Maera for so long were now being meticulously unraveled before her very eyes, a sense of relief washing over her. The truth, like a shining beacon, was finally being revealed, dispelling the darkness of false accusations. With her hand still firmly held by Aemond, she used her other hand to seize her goblet and took a deep sip of wine, savoring its taste, a triumphant sweetness that mirrored her newfound vindication. Maera glanced toward King Aegon, who continued to drink from his goblet, seemingly delighting in the unfolding drama.

Aemond turned his attention back to Ser Reginald, his words like a tightening noose around the man's deception. "It appears," Aemond remarked coolly, his tone dripping with disdain, "that there might be some discrepancies in your story, Ser." Maera watched as Reginald stammered, his fumbling words betraying his guilt, attempting to concoct a response, only to be swiftly cut off by Aemond's piercing question.

"Are you either a simpleton, muddled in your own tale, or so embittered by your rejection that you've woven lies to harm a decent Lady’s prospects?" Aemond inquired, his voice carrying across the table with an air of challenge. Around the table, the lords and ladies couldn't help but react to this revelation, a mix of chuckles and gasps filling the air. Maera couldn't contain her satisfaction as Aemond's words penetrated the falsehoods that had plagued her reputation.

Ser Reginald, however, was not one to take this humiliation lightly. He shot up from his seat in a belligerent stance, prompting the Kingsguard surrounding the table, including Ser Arryk, to swiftly unsheathe their swords and step forward, a silent but imposing warning to Reginald to yield. After a tense moment, he reluctantly returned to his seat.

Beside Aegon, his Hand and grandfather, Otto Hightower, voiced his disapproval. "This is ludicrous," he remarked, turning to Ser Reginald. "Do you have any evidence to substantiate your baseless claims, Ser Reginald?" After a pause, Reginald admitted defeat, stating that he did not. Otto did not mince his words, condemning Ser Reginald for sullying his own honor and House's reputation with malicious lies born from a bruised ego. Turning to Lord Jasper, Otto made it clear that the fate of Ser Reginald Penrose was in his hands as it was his daughters reputation that had been disgraced by the lies. Maera watched her father, her expression resolute, ready to see justice served.

“Do you have any other words, Ser?” The Master of Laws addressed the knight.

Ser Reginald, clearly unnerved by the weight of the moment, swallowed nervously and cast an imploring glance towards Maera. His voice trembled as he addressed her directly. "Please forgive me for my actions, my Lady, my Lord. "

Lord Jasper shifted his attention to his daughter, seeking her guidance in how to proceed. "You have been affected by these falsehoods the most, Maera. How would you like to proceed?"

Maera's emerald eyes, filled with a mixture of gratitude and contemplation, turning to Aemond for a brief moment. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her own, propping her elbows on the table and leaning her chin on to her hands, staring Ser Reginald down. She pondered her options for the treason he had committed. Maera could ask for him to be stripped of his titles and sent to the Wall, something she was sure would be approved by her father. She could ask Ser Reginald to compensate her years of no marriage with coin, an arrangement the Master of Laws would certainly not object to. But then she thought of her mother, and what she had taught Maera about forgiveness and the Gods serving justice without the need for earthly intervention.

With a sigh, she finally spoke with a composed but firm tone. "There is a war. And with Ser Reginald being such a skilled fighter, it would be a shame to waste his talents that could be better used serving the realm." she declared, now looking around the table at the other Lords and Ladies. “My late mother, the Lady Gael of House Targaryen, instilled in me the Mother’s compassion, and to put our duty of serving the crown above all else.”

Maera looked at Aemond, who was also watching her speech, his violet searching hers, waiting for her next words.

“I forgive you, Ser.” She proclaimed, watching Ser Reginald release the breath he had been holding. "I will pray to the Father and Mother to protect your soul, and to the Maiden, to shield your sisters and any daughters you may sire, from the same fate I have endured for years."

Lord Jasper stood and raised his cup in a toast to her, commending her for handling of the situation. “My daughter had demonstrated that the Mother’s mercy flows through her. But I believe that it is the Targaryen blood, which she shares with the Crown, that has allowed her to endure this torment with grace. My late wife would be proud.”

The other nobles at the table followed suit, a jokester amongst them shouting “which one?” In relation to Jasper ‘late wife’ comment, causing the table to erupt in laughter, Maera and her father included. Sensing he had outstayed his welcome, Ser Reginald promptly left the banquet, taking his two squires with him. Good riddance, Maera thought, sipping from her goblet.

Unexpectedly, even King Aegon stood, obviously now thoroughly drunk, his bruised cheek exposed to the sunlight. He raised his cup in agreement, his voice echoing across the gathering. "My Lady Mayflower, you have proven yourself over a number of years of intermittent service, to be a loyal servant to the crown, to my wife the Queen, and to my children.” The King hiccuped, before continuing his toast. “Whichever Lord wins her hand in marriage, and does eventually claim her maidenhead, will be truly fortunate." Aegon winked at Maera as some of the guests chuckled at the King, causing her to bite the inside of her cheek to maintain her composure.

Aegon then his attention to Maera’s father. “My Lord Wylde, you are a valuable ally to the crown, as is your eldest daughter. It would be unwise for a King to freely give away such an irreplaceable asset. It would mean a great deal to me and my family for Lady Maera to stay within Kings Landing indefinitely.” His speech earned the approval of onlookers and a grin from even Aemond, as he subtly raised his cup to his brother.

But Aegon had not finished, as he had one more proclamation to share with the crowd. “To encourage her future husband to allow Lady Maera to fulfill her duties to the crown, and as thanks to you as well, Lord Wylde, for your many years of service, the suitor who wins her hand in marriage shall also earn a seat on my small council as the Master of Coin.”

Maera's jaw dropped in utter astonishment, and she saw the smile from Aemond's face promptly disappear to Aegon's unexpected announcement. T he banquet table erupted in applause and cheers for Lady Maera, leaving her overwhelmed and uncertain of what the future might hold.

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