#these are just my thoughts on the matter but we shall see i suppose

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

ghosts s3 ep1 spoilers under the cut

maybe i’m just delusional, but i still feel like it’s not really flower who got sucked off. because like,,, nothing big happened with her recently? idk why it would have been her?? and also the fact that they showed ralph and stephanie in the recap plus mentioned that stephanie was alone sleeping in the attic again,,, i feel like maybe it was ralph who got sucked off. plus out of all the ghosts, flower would be the easiest to do a fake-out with since she could have just wandered off into the woods and forgotten about them all for a hot second. but idk. maybe they really did fridge her :( i hope not though :/

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[uss-spirk]

I’m still freaking out about Spock Prime’s TOS crew photo from Beyond

Yes, I know this is 8 years old at this point but my Autistic Brain decided to freak out about this again today for no reason at all so hear me out bc it drives me absolutely NUTS every time I think about it.

So basically, the circumstances required for Reboot Spock to find this photo in Spock Prime’s possessions after he died are absolutely wild. Let’s walk through it shall we:

First thing to remember is that this photo does not exist in the Kelvin timeline. At all. The characters all look different and even if they’re supposed to canonically grow up to look exactly the same as the TOS characters, Spock Prime went back in time from his own universe so the photo cannot exist in the Kelvin timeline, at least yet.

Second thing is that Spock Prime must have carried this photo on his person when he went back in time in the jellyfish ship.

This is because Nero captured Spock (and his ship) and stranded him on Delta Vega, presumably with nothing but the clothes on his back and whatever else he might happen to have been carrying in his pockets.

Also, he couldn’t have stored the photo on his ship to retrieve later because Reboot Spock blew it up to ignite the red matter and destroy Nero’s ship. So whatever Spock Prime brought with him from the Prime Universe must have been on his person when he was stranded on Delta Vega.

Now, when Spock first sees Reboot Kirk in the cave, he says the classic “I have been and always shall be your friend” along with “It is remarkably pleasing to see you again, old friend.”

If we take a peek at the timeline for a sec, Kirk Prime disappeared into the Nexus in Star Trek: Generations in the year 2293, when everyone presumably thought he died. Now, Kirk did reappear into ‘normal space/time’ in the year 2371 when the rest of Generations takes place, but only Picard really saw Kirk before he died for real—so basically, the last time Spock could have seen Kirk Prime was in 2293. In the Prime Universe, the Romulan star went supernova in 2387, which is when Spock Prime goes back and creates the Kelvin Timeline.

SO: all this means that it has been at least 94 years (2293-2387) since Spock Prime has seen a Kirk in any universe. THEREFORE: this means that Spock Prime was carrying THAT TOS CREW PHOTO on his person 94 years after the last time he had seen Kirk. Whether he had been carrying it on his person for the entirety of those 94 years, or just during his mission to try and save Romulus, or something in between is anyone’s guess. But basically, even almost a century later, Spock thought those people and that photo were important enough to take with him on his body when he was sent to save Romulus. (A mission that required extreme speed and efficiency, if I might add).

ANYWAY: the photo in Beyond is shown as a rather small, yet touching, moment of nostalgia for fans of the original Star Trek show, but when you really start to think about what was required for that photo to exist in Reboot Spock’s possession at that moment, it just starts to drive me a little bit absolutely bonkers.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Have a nice day.

[candyk0rn]

Cuddles : BG3

It’s been a while! I hope you’re all doing great, and I’m sorry for once more going on a forever break lol. But of course, Baldurs Gate 3 brainrot is so real

Before reading: Fluff, headcanons, Astarion, Lae’Zel, Gale, Shadowheart x reader (separate), gn reader

Astarion:

“Oh? I see you still can’t say no to my endless charm..”

At the beginning of the relationship, touches and prodding aren’t uncommon

Anything that can bring your attention to him

It takes a while and a lot of convincing from you that his somewhat risqué touches was not all that pleased you

And eventually he can even process that you don’t just love him for his body

Although hard for him to realize, with your help he can

So after your relationship has really blossomed and grown, his touches become softer, calmer, more intimate

Nights by the crackling fire, you in his lap, his hand massaging your nape

His fingers are dangerously cold against your skin, but there’s a sense of comfort that comes with the chill

Although he will brush off your reassurance as pitiful and unneeded..

Please reassure him omg

For the longest time, he will surely believe you are like all his other conquests,

Seduced by him and his charms

But just small whispers of love into his ear, your comforting touch against his skin

That’s enough for him.

Gale:

“Come with me, we shall rest under the stars tonight.”

I am of the firm believer that Gale is horribly touch-starved, poor man

Taken advantage of by his own Goddess, thinking that that is the best he would ever be able to do

Then when you come along, it all changed

His thoughts about himself seem to change, his standards seem to change, his love seems to change

He cares so much about you, he cannot help but think he is not worthy

That a cursed, unfaithful man as himself could never even breathe the same air as you

But all of his doubts and worries seem to melt away when you two hold one another underneath the stars

Your fingers lovingly combing through his hair as he rambles on about something he is passionate about

Wether it be a book, his expertise in magic, or Tara (lmao)

Others would shove him off as a show-off, annoying, etc

But you are so willing to hear him go on and on, that he can’t help but love you

His index finger instinctively draws shapes into your back when you hold each other

When he’s cuddled up with you, his worries that today might be his last don’t even cross his mind

He’s more worried about you, how you feel, if you’re comfortable

He doesn’t care if tonight is the last night he shall ever see you

He’d rather die tomorrow than live for an eternity never knowing you

Lae’Zel:

“Chk..I do not take part in worthless acts of intimacy.”

Lae’Zel is not much of a ‘cuddles’ person

Like at all…

She’d rather feel the thrill of battle with you, bathing in the blood of your enemies

Her way of loving is slaughtering anyone who even just looks at you the wrong way

But, if you’re particularly lucky, or especially down

She can’t help but..pity you

In her mind, it’s such a disgusting feeling. This ‘love’ makes her weak, but she cannot run from it no matter how much she tries

The most touch you’ll get from her will only occur in private

A hand perched protectively on your hip or waist

Her head slumped on your shoulder when you’re on watch for the night

acts like this, although small

It means so,so much from her

And she’ll kill you if you go telling Shadowheart about how ‘sweet’ she was being last night

Shadowheart:

“My love…ugh. I’m still not used to calling someone that.”

Shadowheart is lost when it comes to you

Not only is she horribly confused that you of all people would love her

She’s confused as to how she’s supposed to love you

Her entire life, for what she can remember, she’s never been shown comfort or remorse

If she did something wrong, she was punished

She doesn’t remember a single moment in her life when she was loved the way you love her

And although grateful, she feels unworthy

Hugs are common with her, of course in private, but common nonetheless

When she hold you in her arms, the pads of her fingers massage your back lovingly, worried if she lets go, you’ll flee

Let! Her! Play! With! Your! Hair! 🙏🏻

And please play with hers omg

At night, she’ll let her hair down and allow your hands to explore her long, black (or white) locks

Your touch sends shivers down her spine, a feeling she’s not used to, but craves so much

She truly hopes that you’ll never leave her, for now that she has tasted your touch,

She never wants that sensation to leave

Thanks for reading!

[pinkslipxox]

Wifey:

Summary: You loose your wedding ring and Billie comforts you

Warnings: fluff 💝

——————————————————————————

You’ve looked everywhere.

The bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, you even looked in Billie’s small at-home studio. No matter how high and low you search, you just can’t seem to find it. You’re not sure how you’ve lost it or when, and your frustration and anxiety grows with each passing second as you continue to turn the house upside down to find your wedding ring.

Guilt starts to build up inside you as you realize that Billie will be home any minute, and still no sign of your ring. How could you be so careless? It isn’t just a ring, if anything it is a symbol of Billie’s love and devotion to you, and you can’t bear the thought of seeing her reaction when she sees that you don’t have it on. You need to find it— you must.

“Where is it?!” you groan in frustration as tears begin to swell in your eyes. “Fuck!”

Suddenly, the garage door opens. You freeze in place at the realization that your wife has returned home. And you still haven’t found your ring. You have to tell her, you know you do, but that is the last thing you want to do.

“Honey! I’m home!” Billie’s teasing voice echoes the house and you take a deep breath before meeting her at the entrance.

“Hi, Billie,” you greet as sweetly as you can manage with a smile, your heart pounding against your chest.

Billie smiles, her arms reaching out to you, and she wraps you in a tight, warm embrace. “Hey, my love! I’ve missed you so much. How was your day?”

“It was great!” you chirp, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt hit your chest. “How was yours?”

“It was good. Tiring, though,” she replies with a chuckle as she pulls you in close, your hips touching hers. “But being home with my beautiful wife again makes it all worth it.”

It takes everything in you to not burst into tears right then and there. Billie lightly grips your chin and then molds her soft lips with yours into a sweet kiss. You melt into her, forgetting about the ring, your focus now on your wife. Billie deepens the kiss, her grip tighter around your waist as she cradles the back of your head. You can’t help but sigh blissfully, making Billie smirk against your lips, the kiss growing more passionate, hungry almost.

“Billie…” you moan as her lips travel down your neck, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we?” Billie murmurs against your skin and you instantly nod. Her hand slips into yours. The one where your ring is supposed to be. And you hold your breath when she brings it up with a curious expression on her beautiful face.

“You’re not wearing your ring,” she observes, and you bite your lower lip. “Why?”

“Billie… I-I…” you stammer, your nerves getting the best of you. “I-I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry for what?” Billie presses, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Y/N?”

With a sob, you hold onto Billie tightly, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. Your wife doesn’t hesitate to comfort you.

“Hey, hey…” Billie soothes, rubbing your back. “Please don’t cry, Y/N. What’s wrong?”

When you don’t answer, Billie pulls away slightly. She grips your chin, forcing you to look at her, and you’re met with her ocean blue eyes, full of concern. Her expression is stern but you can still see the tenderness in it.

“Y/N Y/M/N O’Connell, tell me what’s wrong,” Billie demands, her voice soft yet firm, locking her ocean blue eyes with yours.

“I-I lost my wedding ring! I can’t find it anywhere! I… I… I’m so sorry! Please don’t be mad at me…” you ramble, and Billie instantly softens as she pulls you into her arms again.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not mad,” Billie reassures you, kissing the top of your head.

“Promise?” You just have to be sure.

Billie chuckles softly. “Of course. I could never be mad at my girl. Ever.”

“But what do we do now?” you ask, pulling away slightly to look at her.

“We buy you a new one. Whichever one you like,” she promises and kisses your forehead.

“I just feel so bad for loosing it. You picked it out just for me, and…” you sniffle but Billie gently shushes you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. These things happen. I was honestly more worried by how upset you were.” She takes your hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “Accidents happen. You loosing your ring doesn’t make me look at you differently or love you any less. Understand, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you say softly. “I love you, Billie.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. O’Connell,” Billie hums and connects her lips with yours again.

Relief washes over you.

You have the best wife in the world.

[mcflymemes]

THE DA VINCI CODE (2006) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you say you hate history. nobody hates history. they hate their own histories.

we are who we protect, i think. what we stand up for.

that's why we study history... so we'll stop killing each other.

can you keep secrets? can you know a thing and never say it again?

how many have been murdered over this question?

if it's so important to you to stop us, then you're just going to have to shoot us.

understanding our past determines actively our ability to understand the present.

tonight, this will be our quest.

how would you know that?

you seem... uncomfortable.

you have me confused with someone else.

why would i try to run? i didn't do anything.

will you excuse me a moment?

i was supposed to have drinks with him earlier this evening.

i waited for over an hour.

i'm afraid the police arrived more quickly than i anticipated.

you must follow me, please. for your own safety.

you knew they were coming?

if you step inside, please. time is of the essence.

you have not been honest with me.

you will leave this house!

your ruse is pathetic.

will you just tell us what the hell it's for?

i've jammed my shoulder, i've been shot at... i'm bleeding.

if we are to get away from here, we must find another way.

you can start with him.

do not react to this message.

you must follow my directions very closely. you are in grave danger.

i could run them over.

i can pretty much remember what i see.

sorry for all the mystery, [name].

i'm into something here that i cannot understand.

you should be ashamed.

if you would close your eyes...

well, that's a bit strange, isn't it?

how many wine glasses are there on the table?

there's virtually no empirical proof.

that is what they want you to believe.

that's a common misunderstanding.

you are saying all this is real?

you are an angel.

i am a ghost.

have you ever heard those words before?

why are you asking these things?

i am the messenger of god.

every breath you take is a sin.

you will be hunted by angels.

you believe in god? your god doesn't forgive murderers. he burns them.

do you mock me?

we are betrayed.

did they find it? this buried treasure?

i've never heard about any of this.

this is an old wives' tale.

now you're a psychologist too?

what will you do?

it's a rudimentary phallus.

the only thing that matters is what you believe.

i thought i was going to die.

sometimes i wonder if i wasn't alone down there.

maybe human is divine.

thank you... for bringing me here.

the mind sees what it chooses to see.

do i owe you money?

care to open up for an old colleague?

first, a test of honor.

shall i serve coffee or tea?

what would you do?

maybe there is no proof.

surely such a travesty has never occurred.

your heart is true.

they are used to keep secrets.

you used me.

we've been dragged into a world of people who think this stuff is real.

do you trust this man? i hope you can.

i don't follow.

stop now. tell me where it is.

i don't know what you are talking about.

is it a secret you will die for?

well, i must say, you two are anything but dull.

forgive the intrusion.

i'm not sure how much help i'm gonna be here this evening.

funny, i don't even like history.

i've never seen much good come from looking to the past.

are you a god-fearing man?

you're acting like you lost your mind.

[38riku]

Good morning / afternoon

If you are willing, would you be able to write a drabble / headcannons for any Twisted Wonderland characters (any dorm is fine) for a reader who’s based off Black Pearl Cookie from CRK?

You don’t have to do this request !

Love your work - swan anon 🦢

thank you sweets ! i chose octavinelle and malleus – if you want any other dorms just let me know <3 hope you enjoy

𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

Black Pearl Cookie!Reader x Octavinelle / Black Pearl Cookie!Reader x Malleus (reader is not the prefect.) not proofread.

𝐚. 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

azul watches you, to your knowledge, and although it's a bit creepy you have no intention of confronting him about him as long as he keeps his distance.

however, the reason he is watching you is to do just that.

he's familiar with the tales of where you're from. nothing good comes in or out of the duskgloom sea, yet, here you were, and you had him completely enthralled.

then he overblots and you see him.

days later and be still wonders just what you thought of him. is he worse than the terrors of the sea you call home? judging by your looks, he'd be the only terror that would reside there.

azul lets his nerves get the better of him and approaches you when the lounge is nearly empty.

"i would like to apologize for ... the vulgar display of my overblot and octopus-like ... form." clearing his throat, he turned to leave, only to stop when you spoke. "you think you look vulgar?"

your melancholic tone caused his head to whirl in your direction. "the overblot was a bit much but there is nothing wrong with the way you look azul."

he blinks in shock, for the sincerity you held was that of someone who understood – someone who had insecurities of their own – and even though he couldn't fathom what you lacking, he didn't question it.

"yes, i suppose there isn't."

somehow, the small moments of conversation happened scarcely, despite this, he pieced together the small pieces of information you shared.

you had sisters that you adore. he could see the faint twinkle in your eyes as you spoke about them. you tone, on the other hand, was strained.

'you feel inferior to your sisters' he thought.

your view on love was sour, eluding to a past heartbreak that you haven't recovered from, and contributed to your current state of mind.

why?

why is every thought consumed by you?

why did he feel the aching need to dig deeper, knowing he may never reach the bottom and may not resurface?

you knew he can take the pain away. no matter how large the scar, the deepness of the cut, the memories that you held close — you don't deserve to hurt.

he sighed, tucking the golden scroll away.

"i hope you come to realize that the fate you've been given isn't one you must live."

𝐣. 𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

jade is rather good at reading social cues. yours to be specific. he's unintentionally devoted his time catering to you when you're in his vicinity.

you don't like to be bothered. a quick greeting or farewell is all you're willing to muster, and he respects that. unfortunately not everyone does.

at least when you're at the lounge he can help you. whether its sending his brother their way or redirecting them on his own terms it doesn't matter.

he can't tell if you've noticed his meddling but he is quite sure you've realized that no one approaches you in the lounge, which causes you to frequent more often.

"good evening. shall we start with drinks?"

it's jarring the way his mind can be filled with you but he acts just like any other member of the staff.

he watches as you scan over the new seasonal items, honing in on the desert items — leading him to believe you had a sweet tooth — "the pearl decorated cookie spread please ... and my usual drink."

you handed him back the laminated sheet, thanking him promptly and returning to your work.

although service is typically quick, the speed at which you received everything was noticeably faster.

"i hope you enjoy. in fact, i came up with the spread design myself." his comment didn't come off as boastful or arrogant, in all honesty you couldn't quite tell what was hidden in his tone.

"as the first person to order it i would like to hear your thoughts."

as you obliged, he took a seat on the other side of the booth, gauging your reaction.

when jade saw your face light up briefly he felt a sense of satisfaction that made him warm. "they use imported sugars and spices from the duskgloom sea. your presence inspired me to add such delicacy to the menu. i'm delighted that it suits your taste."

your eyes. he didn't mean to let it slip it was his idea — you as his muse — and that your delight was his ultimate goal, but, he couldn't help it when you stared at him with such intensity.

"i'm not quite sure what you're getting at."

"please don't think too much about it. as a frequent visitor, i simply wanted to ensure your comfortability." he excused, placing a hand across his chest before bowing slightly. "my apologies if—"

"no need. it seems i misunderstood." finishing the last of the platter, you slid out of the booth, "thank you for the menu feature. i'll be sure to enjoy it as long as it's on the menu."

making your way to the bar to pay, he couldn't help but chuckle once you were out of ear shot.

you didn't misunderstand. he did it to make you feel ... better.

if you wouldn't allow anyone close enough to fix it, he'll continue to try and alleviate your suffering from a distance.

𝐟. 𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

your relationship with the eel is grating. you aren't quite sure why he constantly insists on pushing your buttons or how he winds up in your bubble daily.

the reason is irrelevant. for all you know, he does it for his amusement which, irritates you even further that someone could be so ignorant. especially since you've lashed out on him a few times – earning you detention and a reminder of the rules regarding magic use.

"heya oyster."

you flinched back, whirling around and glaring at said eel. "awe, did I scare you? i didn't mean it." there wasn't any remorse in his tone but you don't think he meant to startle you.

"i'm not doing this with you right now." you huffed, not wanting the conversation to escalate.

"ha? do what?" walking off isn't that effective when he's lanky and athletic and used to chasing people down. "i just wanna talk to ya."

"i don't want to talk. not to you, not to anyone." any person with sense would leave it at that. your harsh tone sent chills down the spines of passersby's, ducking their heads and rushing past to give the two of you the walkway.

it seems that a majority got the hint except him.

"i know that oyster. i'm just wondering why you go through all this trouble being mean when it's not you." yawning, he missed the way you stopped walking, having to double back a second later.

floyd isn't easily intimidated. he's usually the intimidating one. but, he can admit you made him shrink just a bit. especially when you used magic. he didn't know the duskgloom sea was habitable; let alone to mages.

he may've approached you differently if he knew. then maybe he wouldn't have returned to his dorm soaking wet and partially electrocuted.

"you don't know me."

"don't have to." shrugging, he continued. "you're scared. trust me, i see fear everyday. yours just isn't 'ah gonna get beat up' y'know?"

he wasn't helping his case.

"just sayin!" raising his hands in surrender, he watched you stomp away to your dorm and didn't follow you this time.

floyd groaned aloud. that went terribly and now he's in no mood to go to class.

instead he goes to his room, flopping on the bed and rethinking his plans. you didn't want to be like that, yet asking you to drop the act up front doesn't seem to be the best idea.

he knows you're a pearl — pretty and shiny — and he knows you were like that from the beginning.

what made you put up such a hard shell?

when he finds out, he'll make sure to squeeze it until you're satisfied.

𝐦. 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

malleus desires inclusion. he longs to be invited to events, participate in conversation with his peers, and not be feared for existing.

that is why you became the object of his silent rage.

people want to befriend you. they approach you with the intention of companionship and you respond with clipped words, not returning their kind regards.

"you don't truly believe they were always that way, do you?" lilia questioned him when he explained his personal grudge.

in hindsight, his assumption was silly. instead of viewing it from another's perspective he watched you and realized that it wasn't only silly but ridiculous.

something weighed heavily on your heart. he noticed it when your mind wanders during lectures, in the lunch hall, and even walking to and from the school.

you've experienced the compassion of another as well as the betrayal one can cause when they're wedged in your heart. how did he not notice it prior to lilia's input?

the expression you wore is similar to his grandmother's.

"there are fates worse than death." he recalls her words. right here — watching you from afar read alone on a bench — is where he understood what she meant.

"never being able to love again." malleus whispered. he had you all wrong, blinded by jealousy he foolishly harbored towards you.

as swiftly as he could without frightening you, he approached your figure.

"child of the sea." he greeted, "i felt inclined to inform you that there is an abandoned shrine in the eastern part of the woods around the school."

"it is quiet and no one ventures that far on a whim. there's a small lake as well, if that interests you."

bowing, he bid you farewell and left without hearing what you'd say. uncharacteristically his nerves got the better of him as he vanished.

that night, he wondered if you would visit the area in your free time. perhaps he should've stayed and awaited your reply, yet, his face warmed in embarrassment the longer he thought.

he is a fool. an utter fool. the aching feeling he felt must be guilt, mustn't it? or is it the same ache you felt when you let someone in your heart ...?

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[emptyultimatum]

GOOD GIRL

Avenger Loki x gender neutral!reader In which Loki changes things up a little

~ SMUT!! [ fingering, praise, light breast play, light oral, references to vaginal s3x ]

~ TW!! [ character injury but mild ]

I meant it as a joke, you thought to yourself, half ruefully, half gleefully. But as the quivering, spread legs before you revealed a dripping, fluttering cunt, you could hardly call your thoughts regret. 

It all started with the mission. Twenty-four escaped convicts, an easy night out for the Avengers. Technically, it was below Avenger status (not exactly world-saving, after all), but Tony was trying to make a good impression on the U.S. government, so the superhuman heroes spent a lot of time running errands for the White House. You and Peter were on it, an easy fix. Honestly, either one of you could’ve done it alone. 

You went left, Spider-Man went right. There were supposed to be an even split, but the numbers changed too quickly to communicate. You soared over the frigid treetops, angel wings beating the air, when a harpoon speared through your feathers. You crashed to the ground, keening with pain. 

Six criminals got away. Peter handled the other eighteen, but the damage was done. They sent Vision after the last six and helicoptered the two of them back to Stark Towers. 

Loki, as one can imagine, was distraught. 

“What happened? Parker, who did this to her? She needs medical assistance—”

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Curlicues?” Tony Stark gestured to the corner with his chin. “Go over there and sit like a good girl.”

An unfamiliarly dangerous spark lit Loki’s features. You cocked your head curiously through the pain, but Tony blew him a kiss. Loki hissed through his teeth, but backed off, letting Tony scan your gaping wound.

“You know, I always wondered if these things were illusions,” Tony mused, tapping on his holographic screens. “They appear out of nowhere, it doesn’t make sense, unless—” 

“Pocket dimension,” you gritted, as Bruce Banner and Tony snapped their fingers in unison. 

“That does make sense,” Bruce said brightly.

A red syringe-shaped arm popped out of the side of the medical bed. It blasted freezing nanoparticles over the gash in your wing, then retracted. Enhanced healing patches were placed over the bruises and road rash along your arm and thighs, and Tony gave you a jar of skin-repair salve for later. A few adrenaline injections to the arm later, and you were feeling much better. 

“Can I see my boyfriend now? He might tear a hole through all nine realms if you don’t let him check on me,” you rolled your eyes, beckoning Loki over. 

He pushed past Tony, elbowing him out of the way. “Darling, are you okay?”

“You’re welcome,” Stark said. “No problem. I’ll just go over here and lick my ass, I guess.”

“Yes, do that,” Loki muttered. Tony winked at him, deadpan. 

“I’m much better,” you reassured him, flexing the wing and drawing his attention. “I heal quickly, remember? The worst was the pain, but it won’t linger.” 

“Good. Then let’s get to your bed. You need rest.” Loki scooped you up. The world wavered in a flash of green, blinding and strong, and suddenly they were back in their old, cozy room. A sweater lay, forgotten, on a chair. A few snack wrappers and… other kinds of wrappers lay scattered about the floor. 

“Oh it’s a mess,” you smacked your forehead. “Good thing they healed me in the med bay and not here.” 

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” he assured you, his eyes sincere. “Just take it easy, dearest.” 

“What’s got you all worried, Lo?” you laughed, cupping his cheek. “I’m fine. I’ve been hurt worse before.” 

“Yes, but that was before we were together. Additionally, I fear I’m facing some… insecurity, as it were.” He glanced away, cheeks pinking. 

“Insecurity? About what?” 

“I- nothing. It’s no matter. We shall discuss later,” he brushed you off, standing. “Please, let me clean for you.” 

You grinned up at him. “If you say so. Thanks for cleaning for me, Loki. You’re such a good girl.” 

You put a growl on it, a low, sultry purr. The tone of voice you usually said good boy or beg for me in. You meant it as a joke, a demeaning one, a call back to Tony’s patronizing snub. 

Instead, you saw something liquify in Loki’s eyes. That same look he got when his cock was in your hands, or your teeth were sinking into his skin. 

And being yourself, you capitalized on it. 

“Do you like that?” you cooed, arching an eyebrow. “Do you want to be my pretty girl, Loki? My good little obedient princess?”

Oh, you had him cornered. His bottom lip trembled with thinly held control, his eyes darting back and forth, warring with himself. 

You reached up, pulling him back down, so that he kneeled before her. You locked his gaze with her own. 

“If you want to be my good girl,” you said gently, “You can.”

Loki shuddered, and slowly, his shoulders began to slough down and round off. His frame turned slighter, more slender, and his chest swelled. He was daintier, but still with the shoulder-length choppy hair and wild silver eyes. He was no he at all. She was Loki. A tall, wiry, masc Loki, with a dripping mess between her legs. 

Loki whimpered as you laughed aloud, running your hands through that silky black hair. “Oh, you pretty girl, so many tricks up your sleeve! Why don’t you strip for me, so we can see what pretty trick you have up your pants.”

You had never seen Loki undress so quickly. 

And so, here you were, Loki breathless and growling beneath you, your fingers sliding into Loki’s slippery, throbbing mess. You curled your fingers acutely, and Loki bucked up into your hand. 

“Naughty,” you cooed. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. Stay still.”

“Please, love,” Loki begged, her cheeks flushed red. “Please let me cum.” 

“Behave,” you scolded. “And maybe I’ll consider it.” 

Loki let out the prettiest keening sound you’d ever heard. You giggled, leaning forward, wrapping your lips around Loki’s pulsating clit. You sucked, hard, and she moaned again, her legs clamping around your head.

“Is this the insecurity you were dealing with, pet?” you asked, stroking the pad of your thumb over Loki’s sensitive, aching clit. “Were you lost?” 

She nodded, eyes screwed shut with pleasure and humiliation. “I wasn’t sure how you’d —fuck— react.” 

You smiled, running your hand flat up her belly, cupping a tender breast, and squeezing. “Pretty girl. I’d never want you to be anything less than yourself.” 

Her eyes opened, beautiful and silver as always. Loki smiled up at you, holding your hand over her breast. “Sweet love,” she murmured. 

“Besides,” you gave her a sharklike smile. “Now I get to fuck you. Spread your legs.” 

With a whimper, she complied. 

[raven-dor]

everyone adores you (at least i do)

In which robb stark and his new bride get aquainted

PAIRING: robb stark x baratheon!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, new love, slight nsfw, reader is mentioned to have black hair

WORD COUNT: 2,827

The festivities had been fun-filled, to say the least, despite Catelyn having to leave before they started. Her goodbye had been bittersweet; Robb now had no adult relatives at the reception, and Y/N felt as if she was completely alone, even though she barely knew Catelyn. 

He hadn't touched a single drop of his ale, and Y/N couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign. The night had soon ended, and they bid goodbye to their guests. Theon was the last to leave, smirking and leaning in, whispering in Robb's ear. She rolled her eyes; she had seen this before at many receptions in Kings Landing. The groom's friend would joke about the bride's virginity, and the groom would laugh, joking back. 

Robb's face went red, and he smacked Theon's shoulder. "Watch your mouth, Greyjoy."

Y/N was pleasantly surprised, her stomach fluttering at the thought of Robb defending her, even if they had just met. Theon nodded, obviously too drunk to be embarrassed. He looked over to Y/N, bowing mockingly. "My lady." 

She smiled kindly. "Have a restful night, Theon." 

Robb held out his arm. "Shall we retire?"

This is when all of the nerves Y/N had been holding off kicked in. She nodded, but from there to their chambers, she had sworn she blacked out. He shut the door, standing awkwardly by the fire. She looked out the window, fidgeting. 

"Should we-" 

"I'm not a virgin!" She looked down at the ground. "I'm not a virgin, so I-" Robb laughed. Actually laughed. She glared at him. "I would appreciate it if you didn't laugh at me." 

"It's not you, I just..." He stared at her like she had three heads. "Do you think I care?"

"Well... yes." She nodded. "Brides are supposed to be innocent." She tried to hold back her distaste for the term, though her face certainly showed it. 

He nodded. "Yes. They are. But that doesn't matter to me. Your honor shall remain intact; do not worry." 

Y/N smiled. "I didn't think this is how the night would go." 

"Oh." He sauntered over, staring at her dangerously. "And how did you imagine this night going?"

She fluttered her eyelashes, suddenly very flustered. "Well, in every nightmare, you would call me a whore and then take me without any-" Her eyes widened. "I mean-" 

He laughed even harder. "Oh, Y/N." His hand inched around her waist. "I hope the men in Kings Landing treated you correctly." His eyes squinted. "They didn't-" 

She shook her head, looking down at her hands. "No, it was-" She blushed. "It was something we both wanted."

He nodded. "Well, in any case, we do not have to do anything tonight if you do not want to." He stepped back, taking off his cloak, boots, and shirt. She tried not to stare at his abdomen, looking anywhere else but him. 

"And how do you plan to keep my honor intact?" 

He pulled out a dagger, slicing a small cut on his palm. Y/N gasped. "Robb, that is-" 

He pulled the blanket up, putting a few drops of blood on the sheets. He admired his work like he was a painter. "See? No one shall be the wiser." 

Y/N sighed. "Come here. You're going to make a mess dripping blood everywhere." 

He sat in the chair by the fire, watching her every movement. She still had her wedding dress on, which made Robb happy. She looked like an angel. She huffed her hands on her hips as she skirted around the room, utterly lost. "Where is the bandage?"

"The cupboard, just there." 

She stood on her tiptoes, reaching up. "Ah." She walked back over, ripping some off. "I'll use some to clean it and then some ale to sterilize." 

"Sterilize? Just put the bandage on, I'll be fine-" 

"Just let me help you. It's the least I can do after you did this for me." 

"You don't have any debt, Y/N. I can do something kind for you, and you don't have to immediately repay me." 

"I know. I'm simply showing affection." She huffed. "Now, hold still, this will hurt." 

He laughed. "I believe I will be fine. It is only-" He hissed. "That stings." 

She laughed. "That is how you know it is working." He stared at her, smiling as she worked. She was beautiful in this light, he realized. She was beautiful in all lights. "There, all finished." She looked up, her breath catching. 

He smiled lightly, whispering. "Thank you."

She nodded, standing up. "Of course." She looked back out the window once more. "Should we-" A hand reached around her waist, pulling her back. 

"You are beautiful." 

"Robb-" She turned around, staring into his eyes. "We do not-" 

"If you do not want this, say the words, and I will go to bed. But I-" He gulped, staring at her lips. "I do." 

She smiled, her tense stance easing. "I do, too." 

"Thank the gods." He pulled her closer, bringing her lips to his. "You are divine." 

She laughed, melting in his arms. "Robb-" 

"I love when you say my name." He pulled at the strings on the back of her dress. "I- turn around." 

"I can undo them if you just give me a moment."

"No, I want to." She nodded, turning around. He quickly unlaced her dress, pupils dilating as her dress hit the floor. 

She turned back towards him slowly, face to the ground. He grinned, staring. "You are beautiful, have I told you?" 

"Just a few moments ago." She tilted her head, teasing. "But I wouldn't mind hearing it again." 

He grinned, pulling her closer. "You will hear it constantly; I will make sure of it." He walked her towards the bed. "Now lay back." 

The morning light peaked through the window, but neither of them stirred. Well, Y/N didn't stir; Robb had been up for hours staring at his wife, smiling gently at her still form. 

A knock came off the door, and Robb sighed, leaning his head back on the bedpost. "Come in!"

She still had not moved, not even when Maester Luwin walked in rather loudly, in Robb's opinion. "Good morning, my lord; the possible steward is here for your appointment."

He nodded, his face permanently stuck in a grimace. "Very well. I'll be down in just a moment." 

"My lord." Robb waited until Maester Luwin left to look back down at Y/N and found that she was already looking up at him. She laughed, caressing her hand over his chest. "Good morning." 

He glared playfully. "And how long have you been up?"

"Since Maester Luwin walked in with iron boots." She sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder. "He walks very loud." 

Robb nodded, smiling down at her. "He does, doesn't he?"

She stood up, walked across the room to her chest, and pulled out her dress for the day. "You have a meeting." 

He just stared, grinning much too brightly for how early it was. "Can a man not bask in his wife's presence?"

"You could," she pulled her petticoat on, " if you did not have a day full of appointments." 

He groaned. "And what will you be doing all day?"

"Giving Bran company." She laughed. "Perhaps I can entertain him into waking up." 

Robb smiled. "If anyone could, it would be you." 

She huffed, looking over her shoulder. "Can you lace my dress, please?"

He nodded, rolling out of bed. "The things I do for you." 

"Robb, we have been married for less than a day. Please do not start your complaining until-" She put a finger on her chin. "Until a week from now." 

"Very well." He laughed, pulling at the strings. "One more week of bliss." 

"Thank the gods." She smiled. 

Strolling through the halls with her books and breakfast in hand, Y/N finally felt at peace with her new life. It only took one night of- She blushed, shaking her head as if the action got rid of her thoughts. Bran's door was already open, and she’d grinned at the sight. 

"You're awake!" 

He just stared at her, not bothering to say anything. Old Nan smiled at the young woman. "My lady. I was just about to tell him a story about a crow."

Bran's voice was monotone as he spoke. "I hate your stories." 

"I know a story about a boy who hates stories." 

Y/N laughed, covering her mouth quickly. "Sorry." 

"I could tell you a story about Ser Duncan the Tall. Those were always your favorites." 

"Those weren't my favorites. My favorites were the scary ones." 

Old Nan sighed. "Oh, my sweet summer child. What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter when the snow falls a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hide for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little lord when the White Walkers move through the woods. Thousands of years ago, there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, same as the shepherds in their huts. And women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks. So is this the sort of story that you like?"

Bran nodded. Y/N sat beside his bed, entranced. 

Old Nan continued. "The White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses. Hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds-" 

The door rattled, and Bran and Y/N jumped. Robb walked through the door, smiling at his brother. He sighed, looking over to Old Nan. "What are you telling him now?"

"Only what the little lord wanted to hear." 

"Get your supper. I want some time with him." 

She nodded. "Perhaps that is enough of scary stories today." 

Robb waited until she had left to talk to his brother. "One time, she told me the sky was blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macomber." 

Bran just stared, no emotions evident on his face. It broke her heart to see such a young boy so melancholy. "Maybe we do." 

Rob's smile fell, and he sat down on the bed beside Bran. "How do you feel? You still don't remember anything?" He shook his head softly. "Bran, I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain... a thousand times. You never fall." 

"I did, though." He knew something, something he wasn't telling anyone, and Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with her family. "It's true isn't it, what Maester Luwin says about my legs?" 

Robb nodded. 

Bran sighed, looking at the ceiling. "I'd rather be dead." 

Robb's eyes widened. "Don't ever say that." 

Bran looked down, staring at his brother. "I'd rather be dead." 

She sighed. "Perhaps we should talk about something else." She smiled down at Bran. "Would you like to hear stories about King's Landing?"

Bran nodded slowly. "Alright." 

She leaned forward. "Anything you'd like to hear about in particular?" 

"Tell me about your parents." 

She laughed. "Are you quite serious?" He nodded once more, staring at her curiously. She gulped, putting her book on the table beside her. "Well, my parents, they..." She looked to Robb for help before realizing that he, too, had no idea what they were like. 

"My mother was very young when she had to marry my father. You know that your Aunt Lyanna and my father were engaged?" Bran nodded again. "My mother could never amount to your Aunt in my father's eyes, which caused problems in their marriage. Before I was born, my mother was pregnant with a boy, and when he was just a year old, he caught a fever. He couldn't shake it, even though he fought hard." She smiled sadly. "Very hard. He was my mother's first child with beautiful black hair. And then, when he died..." She took a deep breath. "My mother was heartbroken. My father wasn't allowed to grieve, and so he- I guess he used ale, mutton, and-" She looked at Robb, blushing. "Other things to forget. Then they had me." 

Bran tilted his head. "Do you know why none of your siblings have black hair like yours?"

She didn't know why persay, but she had a gut feeling. She had seen her mother and Uncle Jamie when she was younger, closer than they should have been for siblings. "I don't. The Lannister blond won thrice. I guess that means I'm stronger than the rest of them. My father, I guess, treats me kinder because I remind him of his firstborn, his darling boy." 

Robb scoffed. "Joffrey not good enough for him?"

Y/N laughed. "Joffrey is a wicked boy. I fear the day he rules, truly." She looked down at Bran, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "That's not to say they do not enjoy each other's company. Marriage is difficult, but my mother and father make it work. They may not be in love, but they understand each other." 

Bran huffed. "Your Uncle Jamie..." 

"Yes?"

"Is he close with your siblings?"

She nodded. "Closer than with me, that is for sure. He's very protective of them, which I appreciate. Tommen and Myrcella are good children; they need protection. Joffrey, on the other hand—" She laughed, shaking her head. "There is no saving that boy." 

Y/N smiled as Bran slept, glad that his mind was otherwise occupied. She hated that he wished death upon himself; he was so young, so full of life. Summer lay beside him, standing watch. The door opened, and Theon walked through, Bran's eyes shooting open. 

Summer growled, seemingly glaring at the young Greyjoy. Y/N cooed, shaking her head. "Summer, it's alright." 

Theon bowed. "We have visitors." 

Bran huffed. "I don't want to see anyone." 

"Really? If I was cooped up all day with no one but this old bat for company, I'd go mad." 

She looked up from her book, staring expectedly. Theon smiled. "Not including you, my lady." He looked back to Bran. "Anyway, you don't have a choice. Robb's waiting." 

She stood, leaving her book on the table. "It'll be nice, the fresh air." 

Bran rolled his eyes. "There's fresh air here." 

She laughed. "You know what I meant, Bran."

"I don't want to go." 

Theon sighed. "Neither do I. But Robb's lord of Winterfell, which means I do what he says, and you do what I say." He called out. "Hodor!"

A lumbering giant of a man walked through the door, smiling. "Hodor?"

"Help Bran down the hall." 

"So it's true." 

She grinned. "Hello, Uncle Tyrion." 

Tyrion waved, staring at Bran. "Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

Maester Luwin spoke. "He has no memory of that day." 

She hissed. "Uncle, what a question." 

He sighed. "Curious." 

The young woman walked up to the table, sitting beside Robb. "Why are you here?"

Tyrion ignored him, addressing Bran. "Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt." 

"Kneel, Hodor." 

"Do you like to ride, Bran?"

The young boy nodded. "Yes. Well, I mean, I did like to."

Maester Luwin glared. "The boy has lost the use of his legs." 

"What of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride." 

"I'm not a cripple." 

"Then I'm not a dwarf. My father will rejoice to hear it." 

Y/N sighed. "Uncle, please get to the point." 

 "I have a gift for you." He handed Bran a scroll. "Give that to your saddler; he'll provide the rest." He looked to Robb. "You must shape the horse to the rider. Start with a yearling and teach it to respond to the reins and to the boy's voice." 

"Will I really be able to ride?"

Tyrion nodded. "You will. On horseback, you'll be as tall as any of them." 

Robb glared in confusion. "Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?"

"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things." 

This only confirmed her suspicion that her family had something to do with Bran's situation. She leaned over, resting her hand on Robb's knee. "He is merely trying to help, my dear." 

 Robb nodded, looking back down to the Lannister. "You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours." 

"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There, I'll find a bed, and both of us can sleep easier." 

"Uncle, please at least stay for dinner." She smiled. "I've so longed to hear of the Wall." 

He stared, his eyes softening. "Fine. But only because you are my favorite niece." 

[sapphire-writes]

A Second Chance

pairing: Aemond x Reader request: Hello! Sorry to bother you but i have a little idea that came from all the reblogs you recently made! basically Aemond is away so Alicent requests that reader! Comes back after a long time to the red keep because she wants to see her boy happy 🥺 of course its just a simple start but would love to see nice Alicent helping his baby ~ anonymous

warnings: none! this has the tiniest amount of angst but mostly fluff word count: 1.4k note: loved this, loved writing emotional Aemond & your messages are NEVER ever a bother! 💚 masterlist

“I was ever so sorry to hear of the death of your lord husband, Lady (Y/N),” Alicent said, giving you a look full of a mother’s compassion, “and so unfortunate he should leave you so quickly after you wed.”

You take a sip from your cup. The Queen had invited you to the capital and you had been delighted to return. Ever since you arrived your eyes had been searching for Aemond.

You had both left on such harsh terms those several years ago when your betrothal had been announced. You had been missing him for years, feeling as though a very piece of your own heart had been missing. 

“Thank you, your grace,” you tell her, speaking softly.

Your lord husband had been a kind man. Married to you as an alliance for your families and that was all. He was nearly twice your age, but he had been sweet to you. 

“My son has missed your presence,” Alicent tells you. 

“I was hoping to see the prince,” you said, heart rate increasing. 

Alicent nods, looking off to the side. Your smile falters as the realization washes over you at her hesitant glance.

“Aemond does not know I am here,” you tell her. It is a statement, not a question. 

Alicent struggles to keep the smile on her face. She brought her hand to yours, squeezing it gently. 

“I thought perhaps we shall surprise him,” she says softly.

“I do not think he wishes to see me,” you tell her, and feel a slash of pain in your heart. The wound is still fresh, though the years had passed. 

“Tell them not to let me go,” you had begged him, chasing him down an empty corridor. 

The one-eyed prince had stopped his long strides turning to face you. 

“Tell them you wish to marry me,” you had begged.

Aemond had been silent for many moments. 

“I cannot tell them what is not true.”

You remembered it as though it had happened yesterday. The cold look in his eye, so unlike that of which he usually awarded you. None of the kindness you had grown to love. 

“He does,” Alicent insists, “he has been terribly lonely these past years. Growing more resentful each day. I worry about him.”

In truth, you had never stopped thinking of Aemond. He plagued your thoughts at every moment. 

You blink away the tears that gather in your eyes.

“He shall be returning soon,” Alicent tells you, “join us for supper tonight, please.”

Her thumb continues to stroke the back of your hand, a hopeful look is in her eyes. You nod in agreement. 

Aemond remembered watching you go, the way your eyes had filled with tears. The look of betrayal on your face. That most of all. That has haunted most of his days since your departure. 

In truth, he had wished to marry you. But duty is often in conflict with matters of the heart. And duty demanded he remained unwed. 

And though it pained him to do so, he had to let you go. 

Aemond walks quickly to his chambers, eager to bathe and dress before joining his mother for dinner. The days have been long, and there is no feeling like that of being home. 

He hisses as he lowers himself into the tub, the hot water nipping at his pale skin. Aemond wishes to be done quickly, he doesn’t like being alone with his thoughts. He finds himself constantly training, reading, researching, and doing anything to distract himself from the constant thoughts that plague him.

You. 

It has been years since he last saw you since you last spoke. He supposed you must have several children by now. This did not make him sad, he hoped you had children to brighten your life. 

Aemond readied himself before making his way to his mother’s chambers. It was to be a small affair for supper that evening, as Aegon was entertaining some guests from the west. 

“Aemond,” Alicent said, as he arrived. She embraced her son whom she had not seen in several months. 

“It is good to see you, mother,” he said.

“I have missed you,” she told him, “I have invited a guest for dinner..”

“A guest?” Aemond questions, as the door opens. 

He turns and his breath catches in his throat as he sees you in the doorway. Your eyes are wide as you take him in. Aemond looks good, taller perhaps if that is possible. Leaner, the entirety of him is ropey muscles. He is handsome as ever, eyepatch securely covering his ruined eye. Aemond’s lips part.

“Hello Aemond,” you say softly smiling. 

“Lady (Y/N) has agreed to join us for supper, isn’t that lovely?” Alicent says, placing a hand on her son’s arm. 

Aemond jerks his head in a nod causing Alicent to smile. 

“I shall be but a moment,” she says, starting toward the door. She stops to caress your cheek, before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her. 

You inhale a shaky breath. 

“Are you well?” you ask as Aemond continues to stare, a rather innocent expression on his normally harsh face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice hoarse. You wet your lips wringing your hands together. 

“Your mother invited me to the capital,” you tell him, “I did not know you had no part in the invitation.”

“My mother?” Aemond said, shaking his head. Of course, his mother. The hopeless romantic who always wanted more for her children than the hand she had been dealt. You nod. 

“She wished to offer her condolences,” you continue, walking towards the fireplace. You reach for a grape that lays on a golden tray. Aemond’s brow furrows.

“Condolences?” he asks, watching you pop the grape into your mouth. You chuckle.

“Shall you speak in questions all evening, my prince?” you tease before answering his question.

“My late husband has passed,” you inform him. A moment of pause lingers between you. 

“I am sorry to hear that,” Aemond says, “I do hope your children are weathering alright?”

You meet his eye, a blush beginning to creep onto your cheeks. Aemond wishes he could place his hands upon your cheeks, to feel the burning that resides underneath your smooth flesh. 

“We were not blessed with children,” you tell him, “my lord husband was not well, for the majority of our marriage.”

“Did he treat you well?” Aemond asks, voice turning to a tone of concern.

“Oh yes,” you assure him, “yes, he was very kind to me. But-”

You find yourself struggling to speak, struggling to find the right words.

“He did not love me,” you decide, “he did not desire me. It was a quiet marriage.”

Aemond is watching you carefully. How foolish he had been to let you slip from his fingers. The gods are good, they must be repaying him for his suffering in some way by returning you to him. By offering him a second chance. 

“I would,” Aemond says softly.

He walks over to you until he stands directly before you. 

“I would love you, I would desire you,” he tells you, “I do, I always have.”

Your eyes fill with tears and you shake your head. 

“You don’t have to say that-”

“I do, and I was a fool,” he continues, taking your hands in his, “I was a fool to let you leave when I loved you. I have loved you and continue to love you.”

The tears are freely flowing down your cheeks, dripping past your chin and onto the stone floor.

“There has not been a day that goes by where I do not think of you,” he continues, “there is not a corner of this world I could fly to where I did not see your face. In every passerby, in the light of the moon. You are everywhere. You are all-consuming.”

“Aemond,” you beg, not sure exactly if you wish him to stop or keep speaking. 

“I love you,” he insists, fingers digging into your waist. 

You bring your hands to his chest, pulling him towards you and connecting your mouths. The kiss is desperate and passionate, making up for the lost time. Aemond can feel the coolness from your tears caressing his face, and you start to laugh against his mouth. 

He kisses you again and again, swallowing the happy laughter that pours from your sweet lips. 

Queen Alicent stands outside the room, back pressed against the wood of the door, listening to your whispers, and laughter. She places a hand against her heart and closes her eyes, happy that her son has found the love he so longed for. 

note: hope you enjoyed I love me a good love confession, especially from our fave one-eyed prince 🥹

[mystically-yours]

What if...?

A silly way of Solomon's devotion. Where was this at the start of the game? I'm not so sure. Although, I'd love to expound on this idea — atleast, for the purposes of a trope I come to love. Let's call this: "Tell me please, why can't I?"

♡.. Imagine a time where it began as the other way around: MC pining after Solomon. Had the human exchange student crave for human interaction in the literal incarnate of Hell? Go figured, it's in their nature. Of course they'd cling to him. Who else was the safest option?

♡.. Many moments pass and MC connects to Solomon like a missing thread. MC is his constant reminder of his lingering humanity, no matter how far gone he thought he was. Seeing the MC talk more about the Human realm: friends, family, places and even the most mundane things like ignoring stupid injuries, or multitasking on errands— it's almost nostalgic despite the many years the sorcerer had lived.

♡.. When MC finally builds up the courage to finally confess to Solomon, he was... shocked? Humanity was an odd topic; anthropology explaining the details of this race to a T. Solomon at this time thought that MC might as well have fallen for the demons. Like the toy they all were.

♡.. And what did he say? What did he say that determined the course of their relationship?

— "It'll pass."

♡.. He had an advantage. He was supposed to be able to become the first to MC's heart — the advantage of both being human. He and MC getting together causes the least amount of issues, but what did he do? He let them be. Let them bond with the brothers. With the others.

♡.. He only viewed them as a pawn in this endless game of life.

♡.. After that as some time came by, their relationship seemed to have continued on as normal. One might say that he and the MC had developed a friendship of sorts. This bond strengthened further when he sees them alone at the school dance — "shall we lonely singles dance together?"

♡.. That's how it should've stayed. His heart shouldn't have had a mind of his own. At night, he couldn't help but recall all their moments spent together. Solomon could no longer count the days he imagined their smile, their laughter, all that made them human...

♡.. As soon as he felt that spark — like a truck ran over him in his deepest nightmares, he realized: "oh fuck..." the platinum blonde muttered in cold sweat, panting as his mind continues to wander. He's awake. He is awake. But is he? Why is it that he's stuck in this dream?

♡.. Like a demon, Solomon felt tempted. Although, isn't that just human nature? — "what have you done to me?"

♡.. Now he knew how MC felt. And even if they was an attempt at the confession, MC's options were limited.

— "I love you like no other. Please, I... I don't want to lose you."

♡.. So they picked the least broken of the bunch.

— "I'll learn how to love you again."

♡.. It was a sentence of bliss, but to the sorcerer, he lost. Which is why when they were given the opportunity to go to the past, Solomon got to spend every moment with MC.

Every moment to enter their heart again.

To quote: "The whisper of love in the morning. Do you hear it? It's beating for you loudly."

Ah yes Solomon, aka mister "shady sorcerer who can't cook" but also "I lost my chance and now I'm taking it again." Inspired by the "fell first, didn't fell" and "fell later, fell harder" dynamic. I was admiring how domestic Solomon acts towards MC in NB — like they were a married couple. As much as I love the demon brothers, this one got my heart... Again, just a "what if," takes inspiration from canon but I tend to deviate a LOT if that makes sense ;v;

Anyhow, have a nice day~! Tell me what you think of this scenario? Let me know your thoughts! 🫶

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 2

Finnick x Reader

Series Masterlist Link

I had some down time while my flight was delayed so here’s another chapter! Hopefully chapter 3 will come out in a few days but we shall see. Thanks for all the love on the first chapter!

Content warnings - flashback to prostitution assault and detailed descriptions of killing/death

You weren’t always known as a feral victor. Sure, some of your kills in the arena were a bit much, but it’s not uncommon to see that behavior in the games. It is a fight to the death after all. What is uncommon, however, is that literal fight continuing afterwards.

After the incident with the first doctor, which was kept quiet from the public at first, Snow believed you would still be of use from him. He thought the capital doctors could “fix you” and make you “civilized” again. He’s lucky he always had guards with him, or he would have ended up on your list.

Finnick, your mentor, thought that your post-arena violence might save you from his fate in the capital. He tried to convince Snow that it wasn’t a good idea to assign you clients, that you were unpredictable and things could go very wrong. Snow thought it would be fine.

“Sure she may put up a fight,” he told Finnick, “most of them do. But, I don’t think that should be an issue for her client. He could break her quite easily if he needed to.”

And break you he did, just not physically. It was you who did the physical breaking.

You didn’t mean to kill him, nor anyone else outside the arena, but his grotesque hands roaming your body triggered something deep inside you; a primal instinct you first felt in the arena. It was kill or be killed.

You tried to push through it. Snow had warned you what would happen to your family if you didn’t comply. But laying there being completely violated by this capital man broke the only pieces of you that had survived the arena. Your mind had convinced itself that you were out of options.

The man’s avox had phoned the police when she heard him scream, but they weren’t fast enough. He was so engrossed in his actions that he didn’t notice the way your eyes turned cold, or the way you stopped protesting.

Less than two minutes later, he was dead. You still can’t shake the feeling of his eyeballs under your nails, or the sound he made as you crushed his esophagus. The worst part was having to unattach yourself from him when the ordeal was over. You didn’t even protest when the police entered. They sedated you and carried you off, away from the scene of your crime.

Did you mean to kill him? No.

Do you regret it? Absolutely not.

The only thing you regret is coming out of that arena alive; but what’s done is done and there’s no going back.

Your prep team won’t go anywhere near you for the parade, which is quite the dilemma. How the hell were you supposed to get ready? You’re surprised a stylist designed something for you at all, or that they’re even letting you participate for that matter.

Apparently, your stylist didn’t design the outfit. He said that his mentor, Tigress, wanted to design something for you specifically but she is banned from the games so he volunteered to bring her design to you. He’s the first person in the capital who doesn’t seem terrified to be in your presence, but the peacekeepers still won’t let him near.

You’re forced to dress in front of the peacekeepers. They uncuff you at least but it’s still uncomfortable. You would strangle them all right now but unfortunately there would be consequences.

Snow paid you a visit last night. He told you exactly what would happen if you went “feral” before the games.

“We wouldn’t want Mr. Odair’s pedestal to malfunction while he was standing on it, would we?” he stated. “Or for Mrs. Flanagan to come down with a horrible illness. That would be quite unfortunate.”

You had to do everything possible to keep yourself under control, but even that could only help so much. The rage you felt inside was growing and it wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Why isn’t it ready yet?” the shrill voice of Linessa calls to the peacekeepers outside of your room.

“No prep team would touch her,” they tell her. “The tribute is getting herself dressed.”

“Move,” Finnick states as he pushes past the group to enter your room. You’re mostly clothed but are having issues with zipping up the back of your gown.

It’s a beautiful blue gown that hugs your skin before flaring out just below your hips. The stylist explained it as, “The image of a silent siren. A deeply misunderstood mythological creature of the ocean.”

Finnick slowly approaches, making sure you can see his hands.

“Can I help get you ready?” he asks. “We need to be out there soon.”

You nod and turn so he can zip up your dress. The feeling of his hands on your back causes you to tense up but you grit your teeth and remind yourself it’s just Finnick.

Practically grinding your teeth dull, you let Finnick do a simple makeup look on you to match your outfit. You wish you could give him an outfit instead of a net but neither you nor Mags have a say in the matter. You especially don’t.

Finnick is especially careful not to touch the scar that runs down the side of your face. You got it during your games and the capital doctors refused to polish it off after you killed one with a scalpel for taking your temperature. You wish you had the temperament to let him cover it up with the makeup but you know it would set you off.

When he’s done, the peacekeepers come and recuff your wrists but leave your feet free so you don’t trip in the dress.

“She doesn’t need those,” Finnick tells them.

“I’m sorry Mr. Odair but these are direct orders from Snow,” they state.

“Will you remove them before the parade?” he asks.

“No,” they state. Mags whispers something to Finnick and he nods in understanding before approaching you slowly.

“Hey,” he calmly states. “I need to go talk to some people before the parade. Stay with Mags and I’ll come get you before we start.” You nod and he leaves.

The peacekeepers force you and Mags out to where the chariots are, but make you stay along the edge of the stables where they can keep an eye on you. They wouldn’t want any of the “excitement” to start before the games begin.

You can see Finnick talking to Katniss, last year’s victor. You don’t really know any of the other victors besides Finnick and Mags. They know all about you, of course, but none of them care enough to get to know you. The only one who has ever spoken to you (over the phone of course) is Johanna Mason of District 7. She’s pretty close with Finnick and they talk all the time. You would be jealous if Finnick didn’t practically live at your place and spend all his time with you. Plus Johanna hates people.

“Hey feisty!” you hear Johanna call as she approaches you. Finnick has shown you pictures of her but outside of that and watching her games you had only ever heard her voice. The peacekeepers move to block her but one glare from her sends them away. “How’s life outside of your cell?”

You give her a thumbs down and she laughs in response, catching the attention of the other tributes.

“Well I give it double thumbs down,” she states.

“Johanna!” you hear a male yell. “Get your ass over here.”

“Ugh Blight’s calling,” Johanna groans. “See ya later feisty!”

You think you’re done socializing for today when you’re approached by a young blond boy. He doesn’t protest when the peacekeepers keep him five feet away.

“Hi y/n,” he states. “I’m Peeta. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

You give him a blank stare as you study him. Something about you feels like he’s harmless, but you can’t be too sure.

“Ah Melark,” Gloss booms as he approaches the boy. “Don’t take it personal. Feral doesn’t talk.”

It’s clear these two haven’t met before as Peeta looks a bit scared of the career. You’d met Gloss once before your games as he was your allies’ mentor, but you haven’t spoken in years. Him and Finnick aren’t close.

“Oh, uh I’m sorry,” Peeta stutters. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick flirting with Katniss. “Uh nice to meet you I guess.”

Peeta looks harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Katniss, on the other hand, looks like trouble.

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[raysrays]

Kyojuro Rengoku X Wife! Reader OneShot

Senario: Seeing Kyojuro off before his mission.

Genre: Fluff

TW: none

Y/N perspective

(Please leave me some feedback if you enjoy my writing)

I find myself unable to look away from Kyojuro as he gazes into the distance, lost in thought.

To say I love him would be an understatement of monumental proportions. He's the epitome of sweetness and kindness, a beacon of sunshine in my life.

How did I ever become so fortunate? Once his Tsuguko, now his wife... the wife of the Flame Hashira.

His hair gently sways in the wind, and his eyes seem distant, as if grappling with profound contemplation. What could occupy the mind of a man burdened with such immense responsibilities?

Something seems to break him from his daze as he turns, catching me in the act of staring, a gentle smile forming on his face.

"What are you staring at, sunflower? Admiring my good looks?" His teasing causes me to smile, coloring my cheeks.

"I suppose so," I reply, walking towards him. I gaze him up and down, adjusting his Hiaori to perfection. "Much better." He places his hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair.

"What would I ever do without you, my little flame?"

"I have no idea. Maybe you shouldn’t dwell on it," I tease, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Are you about to leave?" I already know the answer. Seeing him off before a mission is always hard, but that's the burden of his title. When Oyakata-sama says jump, it's the Hashira's duty to ask, "How high?"

I feel his hands move to my cheeks, holding my face in his hands. "Yes, I am," he says, his smile seeming weaker. Since we got married, I can tell Kyojuro doesn't enjoy going off on missions as often or as far away.

He used to love the trips and the chance to see new sights. However, now it seems he'd rather be here more than anywhere else.

I place my hand upon his, still resting on my cheek, keeping eye contact with those beautiful fiery eyes. "Hurry home to me, Kyo."

I feel him pull me into him, resting my head on his chest, where I can smell his uniform, freshly washed the day before. His embrace has always been so comforting, so protective.

"I don’t want to leave you," he whispers into my hair.

After a brief moment, I pull away, taking his hands into mine. "I know you don’t, but you must think of all the lives you will save by doing so," I say, trying my best to sound reassuring. "And when you do return, I shall reward you with the best sweet potato dish your heart could ask for!"

That's all I had to say; his eyes lit up, and his smile grew five times larger. "Sweet potatoes are my favorite! Do you really mean it?" His hands gripped mine tightly.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at his adorable reaction. "Yes, Kyojuro, anything for you."

In just a matter of seconds, I felt myself being pulled into him once more. This time, his lips made their way to mine. It was such a loving and gentle kiss, one that conveyed its own message: I love you.

After sharing that moment together, we both finally pull away. "I shouldn't keep Tengen waiting any longer," he laughs nervously. "I'm sure he's waiting on me now."

"Yes, you should probably get going," I reply. He lets go of my hands and makes his way towards the door. He pauses before exiting, looking back at me.

"Take care, sunflower. For when I return, we shall spend a magical night together!" I feel my face turning red. He seems so pure, but I sense his intentions are probably not.

I smile, waving him off. "I look forward to it."

With that, he takes his leave, and I watch him walk off into the distance for a moment.

The man shines brighter than the sun. He really is perfect.

[bu-blegh-ost]

The time has finally come, @girlsonlytreehouse !!!

Today I shall share with you the fruits of my work. But first, allow me to take you on a journey I myself have been through while counting all of this shit down.

First things first, I decided to count the rolls in the context of the characters rather than the people playing them, simply because the luck of the actual people could not be measured accurately if I only take Riptide into consideration (and also I thought it would be more fun). The guys have several different campaigns, some that I do not have access to, so I've decided to seperate all their Riptide rolls into characters they play instead, cause then we can clearly see which character is the luckiest. But ofc if you want this to be attributed differently, the data remains unchanged, so that way you all can interpret the results however you wanted and still have all the info you need on hand.

Another issue were the advantage/disadvantage rolls. When a character rolls at advantage, they roll twice and the only roll that counts is the one that was higher, while the other is discarded and the opposite goes for disadvantage. So for example if you roll at Disadvantage and you roll a nat 20 and a 2, that nat 20 technically doesn't matter. Despite that I decided to count each adv/disadv roll anyway, because despite the fact that it does not count, it was still physically ROLLED, which means it contributes to the character's overall pool of luck. I tried to separate them at first so you guys can make your own decision whether to add them or not, but in the end I decided against it cause it was insanely hard to keep up with. There were just too many and too often, which led me to believe that it was fair enough to count everything as long as they actually rolled a dice.

Which brings me to the last complication, which is of course Gillion's Prophetic Screwup. At the beginning of the campaign Gillion was able to exchange anything that he actually rolled into a nat 20, and in return the DM can change any roll he does afterwards into a nat 1. That way there was supposed to be an equal number of wild unrolled nat 20's and nat 1's to balance Gillion out back to 0, but it didn't turn out this way. In more cases than not, Grizzly would either forget or fail to find a good place to screw Gillion over, so the ability bacame much too unbalanced. So they changed it somwhere in the middle of Edison Kingdom Arc. From then on, if Gill rolled anything from 1-10 it would automatically become a nat 1, and if he rolled from 11-20, that'd be a nat 20 instead. Either way these rolls had nothing to do with luck, as he wasn't actually rolling anything, thus I decided not to count these 'artificial' nat 20's/1's. However I did keep track of them nonetheless and I'll still give you the number of those, just separately, and from then on you guys can make your own decision on whether or not you wish to count it.

OOOFFF ALRIGHT.

Without further ado, here are the nat 20's results (up to ep106):

Gillion: 52

Chip: 58

Jay: 55

Goobleck: 8

Surprised? Yeah I was as well. First things first I never expected this to be this close. And never in my right mind could I possibly predict that it would he CHIP of all people to have the highest score here. But I've seen it with my own eyes. And tell you what. Jay had this in the bag for most of the damn series. She would consistently roll good and always when you need a good roll the most. There were times when she would have such a massive lead it was unthinkable she could loose it. But then she would just kinda...stop rolling good for a bit and allow the other two to catch up. It just wasn't as visble if you don't pay much attention, but I thought it to be cute. It's as she was waiting for them <3 But she was still mostly leading. It was only the current arc that made Chip surpass her. After his terrible luck in Feywilde, he bounced back so strongly right after, that he managed to jump in front of the luck queen herself.

And now I bet you're curious about the other side of the coin. Give it up for natural 1's!:

Gillion: 55

Chip: 53

Jay: 52

Goobleck: 1

You see, I kind of expected it to be Gill, but I need you guys to know that this wasn't the case at all times. Jay? Yes. If there is one thing that's consistent is that she had the lowest amount of natural 1s at all times almost, but the person that was suffering from nat 1 curse for a long while was Chip. In the Feywilde Arc he would be so far ahead of everyone, that I was genuinely sure that there is no way anyone catches up to him. But then he popped off in the next arc with nat 20's and Gillion? Oh my gosh, Gillion didn't disappoint. I've never seen a man fail this much let me tell you XD He ended up with the least nat 20's as well, but I thought the difference would be much higher until he didn't roll 4 fucking nat 20s in ep 100 and then this double nat 20 attack roll in the Black Sea whduihdius AND HE CAUGHT UP AS WELL, more or less.

Idunno, maybe this is just how luck works, but it truly seems that the trio shares their successes and burdens almost equally. They support each other and in return fate has their backs as well. Honestly I couldn't have hoped for better results. Also can we give shout out to Goobleck, the true MVP? He's been on the show only for a while but look at this nat1 - nat20 ratio!!! Go goop man goo!!!

So now for the additional stuff that I also counted just for fun:

*Prophethic screwup nats:

Before the rules changed Gillion replaced 8 of his rolls into natural 20s, and in return Grizzly replaced 3 of his rolls into natural 1s.

After the rules changed he only got high enough number for 4 nat 20s, and a low enough number for 7 nat 1s.

So that together makes additional 12 nat 20s and 10 nat 1s from the prophetic screwup alone. I don't think they should be added, but the numbers are there so feel free to do whatever you want with them :)

Downs and death saves:

Throughout the campaign Gillion went down 14 times and rolled 8 death saves.

Chip went down 6 times and rolled 4 death saves.

Jay went down 4 times and rolled 3 death saves.

No shocker here, Gillion dies a lot XD

Knights:

In their journey Gillion knighted 4 people: Julien Booker, Clorton, Garrieth and Duke.

Corruption score:

Thus far each character has the following amount of corruption points (Black Sea):

Gillion: 0

Chip: 2

Jay: 3

Queen: 1

Gryffon: 2 (i think, unsure abt that one, may edit later XD)

Earl: 1

That is all I have for now. I may be clinically insane :)

Good day to everyone and I hope you found this data interesting. Take care <3

[see-arcane]

I am truly thankful that she is to be left out of our future work, and even of our deliberations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. I did not think so at first, but I know better now. [...] I daresay it will be difficult to begin to keep silence after such confidence as ours; but I must be resolute, and to-morrow I shall keep dark over to-night's doings, and shall refuse to speak of anything that has happened.

Jonathan, no, don't give into the guys' peer pressure noooo

It is strange to me to be kept in the dark as I am to-day; after Jonathan's full confidence for so many years, to see him manifestly avoid certain matters, and those the most vital of all. This morning I slept late after the fatigues of yesterday, and though Jonathan was late too, he was the earlier. He spoke to me before he went out, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never mentioned a word of what had happened in the visit to the Count's house. And yet he must have known how terribly anxious I was. Poor dear fellow! I suppose it must have distressed him even more than it did me. They all agreed that it was best that I should not be drawn further into this awful work, and I acquiesced. But to think that he keeps anything from me! And now I am crying like a silly fool, when I know it comes from my husband's great love and from the good, good wishes of those other strong men.

[...] Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all; and lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I kept anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if he has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every thought of my heart put down for his dear eyes to read.

Mina, no, you have to communicate now, in the present, you're you, you can un-acquiesce, you can break the curse, just talk to Jonathan now, noooooo

GOD this is masterfully infuriating work, Bramward Stokerbroker. Here we have on paper just how much this new status quo--the 'proper' status quo--grates against both of them. You can almost hear them grinding their teeth with the effort to keep smiling and nodding through this unanimous* decision. They know it is For Mina's Sake that they are doing this. Sure, they both hate every second of it and it breaks a loving rhythm they've shared for years together, BUT THEY KNOW BETTER NOW :)))

(Lucy is screaming in the afterlife. Renfield has his head in his hands.)

But all that aside, a thing I'm hooked on this read-around is the fact that, hey. We are reading this. Spoiler, but the entirety of Dracula is actually compiled together by Mina after the story closes. These are all written documents we're reading that the entire group has laid eyes on already. With everyone (bar Art and Quincey for some reason, thanks Mr. 3 Lines Allowed and Mr. Laconic :/, Jack is just talking and waiting for Mina to transcribe now, augh) on duty in some way to record the progress of things so that they can be read later as reference...I have to wonder now.

How honest are these pages the Harkers are putting down now versus what they wrote before joining Van Helsing's Scooby gang? Neither one is writing in shorthand. It's all plain English.

I had a class once where one of the assignments was to keep a daily journal. One page filled out every single day, about anything. Anyone want to guess how many personal secrets or honest feelings I put in those pages for the guy grading my class to read? If you said anything higher than 0 you're wrong.

The Harkers have an audience to worry about right now. An audience of Prof. Et Cetera, Dr. Asylum Director (whose asylum they're currently living in! the kind of place where Jonathan could've ended up and innumerable women have been imprisoned for being women the Wrong Way! whee!), Incredibly Wealthy and Empowered Lord, and Mr. Likewise Rich 'We Should Do Guns About It' American. Who all seem to like them, fresh-from-the-lower class, industrious and Dracula-confronting sorts that they are. Fast friends, all of them.

(Jonathan is still only Harker to them. Simultaneously the Man Who Survived Castle Dracula and the gofer guy doing the footwork and the paperwork/property hunt while Van Helsing hits the library and the others...well, I'm sure they're doing something. Other than re-reading the first half of Dracula.)

(...Which was compiled and transcribed by Mina. Who faced down Dracula in her jammies. Unarmed. At night. For Lucy. But she can't handle your scary stories about the houses full of dirt boxes, let alone join you on the hunt she was explicitly prepared and eager to help with. Can't risk it, little lady, off to bed now.)

This is where they are now that they've ~joined forces~ with Van Helsing and the Suitor Squad. After all they've done, all they're still relied on to do, the Harkers are with allies who have had their acquaintance for less than three days. And now, to appease those allies and their opinions and to keep everything placid with these nice, outnumbering, socially and monetarily endowed parties, they do what they've always done when faced with the fact of their being perpetually on the low rung of the ladder.

The Harkers accommodate. Including in their own diaries, as these too are now deemed forfeit important to the Cause, should the gang need to comb back through it all for clues.

That's why the Harkers are the only ones writing it down--because they already were. They're the kids in the group project who can be trusted to do the work. So just let them keep doing it. Keep an accurate record now, kids! You do such a good job of it, we'd only be getting in the way, ha ha. Remember that we can and will read everything you put down in the future.

Hence: All of what we read today. And will read in the dates to come.

The Harkers are writing under a (friendly) gun right now. They can purge some feelings, but not all of them. And not completely. And not in any way that certain doctors and upper class people of power they barely know might misconstrue as ungrateful or mad in any sense. The Harkers are good people. The Harkers are helpful. The Harkers are team players even if that means no longer being a team themselves. They chafe a little at this, but it's all so new to them! It's alright. God's will and Van Helsing's be done. They know better now.

With all this in mind, it makes much more sense why Jonathan chooses to use shorthand for a Very Particular Entry we see coming up. An entry that Mina alone could read and decide to enter in the distant future, after the storm had passed.

And why, in light of all that happens, he cannot trust himself to put more than a vignette's worth of lines down as time goes on. Not if he wants to keep himself from laying out some actual honesty for everyone to read. Mina's entries will be weightier things, while she still has the capacity to write--carefully. Always carefully.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?