#who sees your reasoning and ive already made it clear that i disagree

[freakinator]

just gonna put what i said in the comments lol

again, if you find her dream meaningful then irdc, ppl find different meaning in different things and it seems like for you this one particularly does while for me it doesnt

if youre trying to get other ppl to find it meaningful as well then go gush about it and make analysis and various posts about it in your own blog. but i will not be one of them due to, as stated, my personal experience

(also ik theres no way you could have known this but its generally not a good idea to tell me, a schizospec person who is neurologically inclined towards magical thinking and conspiracy theorizing, to just trust in dreams like that just cause it was proven right later on -- especially cause it was proven right later on)

and the reason i kept saying scam flame is simple: i forgor, this shit was ages ago and the scam got interrupted by focus revealing themselves before it got the chance to make any particularly huge impact to the server so any long-lasting impact it could have had essentially fizzled away and along with it my memory on the specific details

knowing how the server works isnt a matter of smartness its a matter of experience, you can make all the assumptions you want about lifesteal as a server but you can never really tell how it would go for you until youre actually on it 😭

[dnpbeats]

emma i need to confess something any theory about dnp fucking other people pisses me off

anon i'm gonna put about twenty disclaimers on this bc i'm not trying to start discourse but i must say i agree 😭😭 TO BE CLEAR at the end of the day we don't know the ins and outs of d&p's relationship, and we never will. as dan said in BIG ppl want to know who he's fucking when he's fucking them and how long he's fucking them but that is not our business to know!! so i acknowledge that my thoughts on this are my thoughts and they come from a place of personal bias and projection! so if u disagree that’s okay!! okay anyway:

yeah lmao i get that i honestly don't think that they are in an open relationship for a variety of reasons. like logistically speaking it'd be difficult (espc before they were out) and we at least know phil doesn't like one night stands, so it's not like they're perusing grindr every day looking for someone to hook up with. but also like all the swinging jokes are what make me be like yeah they aren't doing that bc if they were i don't think they'd joke about it sm bc i think it would hit too close to home 💀😭 also, i think people read too much into some of dan's comments during WAD. like i get it, yes he likes making horny jokes, but i dont think it's that deep. like even if he wasn't with phil/was in an open relationship, he wasnt being serious when he said cute mutuals slide into my DMs yk 😭 he's always made jokes about being thirsty it's nothing new. also he himself said that all his thirst posting were jokes*! and other reasons too like how jealous dan gets 💀💀

but i also think people have only one interpretation of what he says sometimes, for example him saying things like this: "This is my hot boy autumn right now and I am very much enjoying, for the first time in my life, being free and out and in the world, being able to actually talk about things, being honest, being able to go out and have fun." which, if you want to interpret that as dan saying he's getting dicked down every night of tour, that's your prerogative! but i do not think that "being free and out in the world" has to be about sex, like there are so many layers to that! i just take it to mean like being able to live authentically and exist as a gay man in public yk?

ive said this a couple times in tags on other posts, but i think that sometimes (not all the time!!) the reason why ppl come up with open relation theories is because it's already a given that d&p are together. like in 2015 you could theorize "are they gay are they in a relationship" because it wasn't explicitly stated by them. but now that they're explicitly gay, and anyone reading between the lines can see that they're together, you can't really "speculate" on phan. so, the next progression is to speculate on the exact nature of their relationship: is it open, are they in a qpr, etc. so anyway yeah that's my two cents 😭 if someone thinks they're in an open relationship that's fine pls don't come for me 😭😭

*I CANT FIND THE SOURCE FOR THIS but i know he said it bc i've referenced it before, when i eventually find it i'll put the link 🙏🏻🙏🏻

[nothorses]

im starting to realize that (maybe?) i have found myself in a circle of blogs with neo-baeddel beliefs? im tramsmasc, and ive always found the tme/tma thing a bit Icky for a lot of the reasons you’ve mentioned in posts. and now i feel like if i become a “””transandrophobia truther””” i will be perceived as anti-transfem/trans woman - which to be very clear, i am not. and at the end of the day it really seems like unnecessary in-fighting. i have a lot more feelings about this but i dont wanna take up your time. idk i just wanted to get this off my chest cause i am Confused and feel like a bad person just for being transmasc?

I'm really sorry you're feeling that way! Nobody should be made to feel bad or wrong because of their identity.

I think it's important to ask whether the things we're doing are harming others, and to be open to receiving criticism. I say that because I think it's important that we consider ourselves fallible, and always growing, and that we look to the people around us to challenge us and help us do that.

We should also feel comfortable answering those questions, and recognizing when criticism isn't really productive, too. If you feel like you don't have the space to disagree with someone else on something like that, especially if you cannot imagine a situation where disagreeing would be warranted, that's a sign that you're lacking some essential trust in your relationship with yourself.

And I want to touch on some language you're using as well; you use the word "perceived", but then assert that you aren't "anti-transfem/trans women". It feels to me like you know you're not actually what people might perceive you as, that you wouldn't be even if you discussed your ideas openly, and your worry is in how other people see you. What I wonder here is: which is more important? What can you actually control?

You are a living, breathing, growing human. You are going to make mistakes. You are going to do and say the wrong thing, and you are going to look like an asshole sometimes. That doesn't make you a bad person, and it sounds like you already know that! Trust that you are trying, and surround yourself with people who trust that you're trying, too.

If you feel like the people around you don't and won't trust that you're trying, or like that trust hinges on your complete and total agreement with their beliefs- if you feel like you can't have these conversations with them in the first place- then I would seriously consider getting the hell out of there, regardless of what those specific beliefs are.

[youngpettyqueen]

I don't see it as trivializing issues since discourse about headcanons about BJ — which are mostly seemingly based on fanon and extrapolations of canon — are a dime a dozen when looking at MASHblr, in favor of discussing anything else. I don't ship anything on MASH so I do not have anything to add, but I am a POC who finds watching parts of the show upsetting because of the lack of any Korean characters that are fleshed out, Klinger, the only main POC being made the butt of the joke constantly, Oliver Jones being written off for an incorrect and inaccurate reason, and the lack of fan content for POC in MASH by in large, even ones with substantial storylines, like Soon-Lee, compared to white characters with much less of a presence. I find that more upsetting than some headcanon about BJ that differs from mine, given that everyone's interpretation of him is probably different on some level, and in my opinion, assigning some headcanons a level of wrongness seems strange given that everyone interprets differently, and there seem to be more pressing issues that are rarely talked about. I didn't mean to offend, or anything. I apologize.

I completely get why you'd be upset with parts of MASH. the racism is upsetting, its impossible to ignore. I could write several posts about this, the reason I dont is because other people already have, and I reblog those when I see them. youre completely right with the treatment of women of colour in the show as well, and how theyre ignored by fandom and passed over. its a huge issue with fandoms in general, one I agree is insanely frustrating

when it comes to discourse over queer headcanons and such, I actually dont care much what people headcanon different characters as. I might disagree with some, but I ultimately dont care. why I get heated over the thing with BJ is a lot of people are just super rude about it, and go out of their way to butt in on posts and act super condescending and rude, and like theyre somehow in the right. thats where my issue is, not with the headcanons themselves. the biphobia element comes in when anybody tries to say BJ loves his wife and women, and they get mocked in response, and treated like shit by certain parts of the fandom. so, its not about BJ, its about how people are just downright rude for no reason. maybe I havent been clear that thats where my annoyance lies, so I want to be clear here

your apology is accepted anon! I apologize for any rudeness on my part. racism, misogyny, and the constant passing over of women in colour are issues that matter to me a lot, and ive always tried to make that clear on my blog when those topics come up

[shortprince-cos]

More Truths Than Dares

Summary: After "The Double Closet Incident" as Patton so calls it, Patton and Janus have a talk at their friends' sleepover.

Ship: Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: Smoking, claustrophobia mention, truth or dare. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Note: This is a direct sequel to "In A Closet"! You can read this without reading that, but it'll probably be confusing!

{Previous}

{Masterlist} (I KNOW I NEED TO FIX IT BUT IM A PROCRASTINATOR FIGHT ME)

~~~~~

"Oh, I didn't know he was invited."

All Patton had done was walk in the door. He hadn't even said hi, or hugged Roman yet, he just walked in the door, and Janus was already on his back for just existing in his presence.

It was going to be a long night.

"Yes? He's my best friend, you know!" Roman defended as he brought Patton to sit on the couch with him and Logan.

"Wow, rude." Logan said.

Roman made a series of offended noises. "You're my boyfriend! So obviously Patton is my best friend!"

As the two quickly dissolved into playful banter, Patton stood to go put his overnight bag in Roman's room, hearing Janus whisper something to Remus and Virgil as he walked by.

Just ignore it, he thought, not really in the mood to argue today. Especially not after what Patton had dubbed ‘The Double Closet Incident’.

It was disastrous. Not only did Patton get locked in a closet with Janus, who has claustrophobia, he discovered that he may have a thing for men. Who knew?

Roman. Roman probably knew, especially after he had adopted Patton into their little friend group. And if being gay was a contest, Roman would be the judge.

But...it was normal to feel that way, right? It wasn't weird to feel embarrassed when someone got up in your personal space, was it? It wasn't abnormal to blush when someone said kind words to you, or odd to imagine yourself in different scenarios with someone you saw on a daily basis and they were-

Wait, what was he doing again?

Patton sighed as he set down his bag by Roman's bed. Those were thoughts for another day. He was supposed to be having fun at his best friend's sleepover, after all!

Patton put on a happy face and went back to the living room to join the others, finding that Roman and Remus were wrestling over something, Logan and Janus were debating, and Virgil was scrolling on his phone. Yep, it was going to be a long night.

---

After breaking up Roman and Remus' tussle, watching a couple of movies, and other various shenanigans, Remus decided to gather everyone up in his room to play truth or dare.

If Patton learned anything from watching the others' turns, it was to always choose truth when Remus picks you.

"Double D, Truth or Dare?" Remus asked excitedly, even though he already knew what Janus would say.

"Dare."

Remus grinned like a shark. "I dare you and Patton to stay in my closet for one hour together."

Both Janus and Patton went pale.

"I...lied. I meant truth." Janus quickly said, hoping that Remus would let up.

"Nope! Too late! Now, you and Patton have to get in there, have hate sex or something, and come out in an hour!"

"Uh- we can't!" Patton exclaimed suddenly, and then all eyes were on him.

"What, are you afraid of the dark or something?" Remus teased.

"Um- no- well, kinda- but no. I- uh- have claustrophobia."

Janus looked shocked, to say the least. Thankfully, everyone was still looking at Patton.

"Yeah, small spaces are absolute torture to be in, and I would prefer it if none of us did stuff that involves small spaces, because then I'll worry about them!" Patton rambled quickly, trying to get all attention on him.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Ugh, fine. But you guys still need to do something together."

Patton blushed a bit, and Janus sighed, looking relieved.

Eventually, Remus gave up, and just dared Janus to eat shaving cream.

The rest of the night went smoother, and Patton ended up telling a lot of weird secrets, but not very important ones.

Eventually, everyone was asleep in either Roman's room, or Remus' room. Everyone except Patton, who couldn't get his brain to turn off.

Patton reluctantly got out of his sleeping bag, and made his way to the front door, maybe some fresh air would clear his mind.

Turns out, he wasn't the only one who had that idea, because as he stepped outside, he found the one and only Janus on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

Before Patton could turn back around, Janus saw him, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Well, no going back now.

Patton silently sat down in the wooden rocking chair next to where Janus was standing, staring off into space a little before speaking up.

"You-you know that smoking is bad for you, right?"

Janus' lips curled up in a small smile as he chuckled. "I'm aware. Don't worry your pretty head, I only do it when I'm stressed."

Patton decided to ignore the way being called pretty by Janus felt and focused on the other part of that statement. "What are you stressed about?"

Janus blew out a puff of smoke, and suddenly Patton was very distracted by his lips.

"You. You're...different than how I thought you'd be." Janus said solemnly, drawing in another breath.

"Is...is that a bad thing?" Patton asked quietly, looking down to the floor.

Janus glanced at Patton with an indecipherable look on his face. "To be honest? I don't know. On one hand, you're actually a decent person."

"Thank you?"

"And on the other," Janus continued. "I've treated you like s**t for no reason other than spite."

"...It's okay-"

"It's not." Janus interrupted.

They sat in silence for awhile, trying to figure out if the other still wanted them here or not.

"Why did you think I was a bad person?" Patton asked quietly.

Janus huffed. "It's complicated."

"I mean...we got all night."

"...true." Janus sighed. "I think it's because ‘nice’ people don't usually want anything to do with me, and when they do, it's usually for the wrong reasons." He explained. "So when you started talking to me...I don't know, you reminded me of all the wrong people."

Patton's heart broke. He reminded Janus of some probably terrible memories, and had probably been hurting him just by being around him! No wonder Janus frowned whenever Patton walked in a room!

"Janus, I'm so so sorry, I never knew-"

"What are you sorry for?"

"I- That I remind you of some terrible people in your life-"

"Patton," Janus rest a hand on Patton's shoulder, making him blush. "You don't have any control over who you remind me of. Please, don't apologize for that."

"Well- then you can't apologize for being reminded of those people either!" Patton argued.

"I didn't say that, I said I was sorry for treating you terribly!"

"Well, then, I guess you're forgiven!" Patton retorted.

Janus looked at him in shock, as if Patton had just said a bunch of profanities, before quickly looking back to stare off into the distance again. His cheeks were red, but Patton convinced himself that he was probably cold out here.

"You're...too forgiving." Janus mumbled softly, as if he was talking to himself.

"I think that's a good thing." Patton replied.

Janus huffed. "...Thank you." He said, looking at Patton with a small smile on his face. "For everything."

Patton blushed. "Y-Yeah. No problem."

Janus looked at him with a disagreeing look on his face, but let it go.

They settled into comfortable silence as Janus threw his cigarette away and Patton almost fell asleep.

The second time Patton had to force his head up, Janus huffed.

"You should probably get to sleep."

As if on cue, Patton yawned. "So should you." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Janus chuckled. "Fine. I'll go back to bed if you do."

"Okay, fine. You have a deal."

Janus had that stupid, self-satisfied smirk on his face that he usually wore that made Patton feel fuzzy inside.

"Good," He smirked. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah. See ya."

Janus ventured into the house, Patton following a few moments later.

Patton felt like he was getting into dangerous territory with Janus, but instead of feeling concerned, he felt more excited than ever.

~~~~~

Hi guys!!!! Its been awhile! So, this is an au that ive fallen in love with, so i wanna keep writing for it! If you guys have any name ideas, send em my way please!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

[mithliya]

[also do u think the only reason people have any sexual encounters is bc of attraction? bc unfortunately we aren't living in a utopia where that is the case. i would invite you to join the real world where people constantly do shit that they don't want to, shit that they never would do if they felt no pressure to, and shit that is against their nature.]

how you got that from anon asking if you think sex happens at random is....confusing. kinda sound like asexuals, who still fuck, saying they've had sexual encounters regardless of being not “”sexually attracted“”, to whoever they're bedding. this isn't something as simplistic as go shopping with a friend even if you don't want to, this is about sex. it's glaringly obvious people frame het sex, which they gave meaningful consent to, as ambiguous. it'd be interesting to see how you define sexual encounters people consent to, but "they don't want to", and how it's materially different from unwanted sexual contact. alsooo, i really want to know how women who go out of the way to fuck men, you know, since dick doesn't randomly pop into a pussy by a matter of chance, is the result of a lack of a “utopia”? i'm trying to understand your thought process behind that.

where i disagree with asexuals arguing that isn’t some rapey victim-blamey “well you agreed to it so you must’ve wanted it and you must be feeling sexual desire”, but rather “well if you don’t want to have sex, you shouldn’t force yourself to for the other persons sake. it’s not healthy to have sex you don’t actually want”. so your false equivalence doesn’t even work here.

you lot think the only situation someone could ever be in is they go out, look for a guy, initiate sex with him and show no signs of not wanting it whatsoever, and then regret it the next day. it’s not as simple as that. ive repeatedly talked about my own story to explain that and yet when i do y’all call it “traumadumping”, which is laughable bc you guys seem to acknowledge it was unwanted and traumatic when i talk about it yet argue it wasn’t when referring to it. my story is a guy at school pursued me for 4 years, was repeatedly rejected by me, and i repeatedly made it clear im not interested. and then when i got raped at 14, he was among the only ppl not to turn against me, and pushed me to be with him and would literally get me drugs and alcohol & admit afterwards it was in hopes that it’d make me want to have sex with him. during this time i tried repeatedly to leave the relationship yet he wouldn’t let me leave it. during sexual encounters i was either on substances, dissociated, or asleep due to a sedating medication. when i was conscious, id force my eyes shut the entire time and either attempt suicide or self-harm afterwards, best case scenario i would simply cry my eyes out. that’s the only guy i ~consented~ to have sex with. plenty of the lesbians i talked to who also had ~consented~ to be with a guy had faced CSA, rape, abuse, and had trauma causing them to dissociate and have a poor sense of boundaries. they also have similar stories to me. none of my story sounds like the strawman you guys keep using. how is it “materially different”? well, i didn’t vocally say no to to it. i was too scared to, not because he was threatening but because i was already traumatised and my only experience with sex was having my agency and boundaries disrespected. i was already the school whore for being raped. i was already considered worthless and “used” and “ruined” and “damaged goods”. i was taught to protect my virginity and that my virginity gave me worth & some sort of desirability, and i failed. and in my traumatised 15 year old head, that took away the only valid reason for saying no. and i had learned that saying no = rape = worse to experience. lastly i thought that id eventually grow to want it & like it. i thought not wanting it meant something was wrong with me, esp since other ppl at my school would say im stupid and that they’d judge me if i don’t agree to be with him since he ~clearly loves me sooo much~. whether he was aware what he was doing and that i was crying, that it would push me to self-harming behaviours and the like, i have no idea, but he was pretty aware that i did not want him nor want to be with him bc id tell him and would get substances to try to change that by his own admission. and it’s mainly my fault for not fighting hard enough or making it known i didn’t want any of it, and for playing along at first. doesn’t mean im into men tho. i know my own body and mind better and know i have never & continue not to feel any attraction towards men.

i don’t know how many times i need to reiterate my story, reiterate that it was traumatising, that i was traumatised, that i continue to deal with trauma, that i do not want to sit here discoursing about my trauma & justify my past passivity & pushover tendencies as a rape victim, and that pushing me to justify my past and thus causing me to recount my trauma triggers my PTSD & leads to me dealing with at least a week of nightmares. yet y’all continue reaching out to me and expecting me to explain in depth how agreeing to something isn’t the same as desiring nor wanting it, and how the world isn’t as black and white as u pretend. someone uttering the words “ok” “sure” “yes” doesn’t somehow = attraction. especially not when someone’s disconnected from themselves and frequently dissociated from their trauma. if u wanna keep arguing otherwise, do it on ur own blogs and leave me alone.

[the-volume-is-astronomical]

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

The Tower

A/N: mi gente im just trying something out and seeing if people like it :] ive had this done for like months and months on end and i finally decided to share it so em enjoy 

First | Previous| Next

words: 2380

summary: Roman’s stomach is making it very clear that this talk wasn’t going to end well... as long as he doesn’t end up in that tower.

pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit 

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, disappearance mention, flashback, crying

(let me know if theres any other)

Roman felt himself waking up, maybe because of the stupidly bright sun hitting his eyes, he didn’t know how that was possible since he remembered closing the red velvet curtains shut tight, so he didn't have this exact issue. So, when he heard some ruffling and things being moved around he wasn’t all that surprised. 

¨Rise and shine, you little brat¨ Ruth said in a very tired but demanding voice. 

¨Oh dear nurse, allow me five more minutes¨ Roman whined putting a pillow over his eyes so he could block out the rude sun.

¨Oh, flattery will get you nowhere, mister.¨ Roman could hear Ruth moving around the room, preparing breakfast no doubt. Roman took the pillow off his face and sat up, hair a wreck, and his eyes squinting because of the light coming from the window.

¨And he finally rises,¨ Ruth said sarcastically.

¨Yeah, yeah, the dashing prince has awoken.¨ Roman said half asleep. Ruth helped him sit down so he didn’t trip over anything and started serving him breakfast, she wasn’t going to wait for him to finish eating as she was already heading for the big oak doors. 

¨Wait!¨ Roman sobered up, Ruth flinched a little at the shout but turned around anyway ¨Can I do anything for you?¨ She asked.

¨ Come eat with me, you for sure haven’t eaten anything today.¨ Ruth went to argue but closed her mouth when she noticed she, in fact, had not eaten.

 She sat down in the chair in front of the royal, Roman made a few hand gestures as if to show she was open to take anything, she knew the monarch wouldn’t eat until she had settled for something so, she took a piece of bread and started eating, as did he.

After a few moments of silent eating Ruth spoke up ¨I still don't understand, after all these years you haven’t become a spoiled brat that doesn't care for his servant¨ Roman didn't even look up at her he just said ¨I guess you raised me well.¨ Ruth almost choked on her bread and looked at Roman as if he had gone insane. “Oh come on don't be so humble Ruthie!¨

She still looked at him confused and a little annoyed at the nickname but mostly surprised he would say anything of the sort, ¨Ruth, you are my nurse. You have been with me my entire life, You fed me when I was a baby for god sake! I consider you a mother, even if I have another mother in the throne room right now,” Roman shivered at the thought of having to talk to his parents after the events of the past week but continued anyway “and I sure as hell think of you as the person who raised me.¨ 

Once he had finished he immediately put a mouth full of food and kept eating as if hadn’t given that speech. Ruth still looked shocked but cleared her throat ¨Well, then I made you a sap!¨ Roman started laughing ¨How will your future spouse ever forgive me?¨ Roman burst out laughing and Ruth gave a small chuckle. 

Ruth stood up and went to Roman's closet to gather his outfit for the day, while he finished breakfast. She threw the clothes at him “Hey!¨ Roman made his trademark over dramatic gasp. She sighed “I unfortunately also gave you my dramatics…”

 “And I don’t resent you for that!” Roman screamed back with a big smile on his face. 

Ruth looked like she had something on her mind. Roman didn’t have to wait much before she said what that was, he never did. ¨Would that make you and my Remy brothers?¨ she said, actively ignoring the prince’s comments. Roman stood up going towards his shoji screen to change behind. ¨Ha! We already consider each other brothers so it wouldn’t be much of a change.¨ Ruth started making his bed “Well this is new information to me.¨ Roman giggled a bit 

¨Remy´s supposed to be back by noon, he passed a lot of territories to deliver this message so I sure hope he’s alright¨ Roman has always thought she was a worried mother even to him when he went on long trips.

Roman stepped out from behind the screen and reassured her ¨ He’s fine! He may act reckless but he's very calculating… but expect him a few hours later than what the estimated time of return” Roman slipped away looking for his shoes. ¨Oh and why is that?¨ she asked, hands on her hips, Roman gave a nervous chuckle. 

Shouldn't have let that slip.

“Roman…” Ruth said in a warning tone. Remy was going to kill him but he didn’t want to die at his nurse’s hands “Remy’s been... seeing... this person a-and when his message trip aligns with where they live… he spends some time with the person so…” Ruth looked at him as if deciding something, “As Remy’s mother, I thank you for telling me the truth..” Roman was relieved “But, as your mother, I have to say…YOU SNITCH! Snitches get stitches for a reason!” Roman laughed genuinely and Ruth joined.

After their giggle fit, they heard someone knock on the door. Ruth went to answer the door, it was a guard “His and her highness request the prince’s presence,” Ruth thanked the guard and turned around and Roman looked mortified, “Roman, you have to talk to them.” Roman had never heard Ruth speak that soft. Roman only felt dread “Ruth I don't want to go” He was genuinely petrified.

“I understand, but they are very understanding and I believe they wouldn't punish you for simply trusting the wrong person” Roman shook his head “ They’re already so protective. They always had me under knight or guard surveillance but now they might do something so I won’t be able to sneak by” Roman was panicking and Ruth noticed, she walked up to him. And took his hand “Roman they just want the best for you…” Roman took his hand away from her own “No! They are just afraid they aren’t going to have an heir after one of them ran away.” Roman's hands were in his hair and his eyes started to glaze over.

Roman was very much not over his brother's apparent “disappearance”

“I understand Remus vanishing has affected your parents over protectiveness, BUT they have always aimed to protect you but after what happened...can you really blame them for it?” Roman sighed, Ruth forced his hands out of his hair, he took a shaky breath to calm down “No, but getting hurt is part of life! So what if I trusted the wrong person? Everyone does!” He gestured to the sky as if it was the only person listening, he felt so defeated. 

“Well I can't change anything so, you should tell your parents that!” She didn’t know what to say to make things better. “I’ll try, let’s just hope they at least try to listen” he left it there and headed out of his bedroom’s oak doors, he never liked disagreeing with Ruth. 

 Roman walked down the long hallway towards the throne room but, of course, he wasn’t alone because that would be too much to ask apparently. Instead he was being escorted to see his parents by the guard that had informed him his parents required him. He already knew what they were going to talk to him about and he was dreading it.

Why did he have to make such a mistake?

Did the universe want him to not trust anyone after what happened?! If it would make the sinking feeling in his stomach leave then he would happily oblige.

The guard stopped at the throne rooms doors and Roman took a deep breath as the guard gave him side eye glance and opened the doors, “You required my presence?” Roman spoke trying to keep his voice steady and his head high, “Yes, Roman, we would actually like to talk to you about last week's event…?” He phrased it as a question a little too late. Roman’s father, King Leonardo, wasn’t an emotionally driven person and never was truly soft with anything he said, but he cared. The way he was soft spoken with Roman was just having the opposite effect that his father wanted.

Roman’s mother, Queen Victoria, was very comforting and always tried to shield her children from harm's way, but coming from a family of royals, she didn't have an example to follow but she wanted to be there for her child. “Roman, my little lion heart, I need you to keep in mind this is for your safety...ok?”  Following everything by the book, always looking and being her best, so she would be a good example even if she wasn't nurturing, all she wished was for Roman to know she loved him and Remus with her whole being, Roman just gave her a tense nod as a response. 

Roman’s Father spoke up, “Roman, you're going to be under knight supervision at all times,” That wasn't as bad as Roman expected, he basically already was! Anything but to be stuck in that damn tower “...And you have to stay in the south tower-” ...He should have knocked on wood. 

“Father, I did nothing wrong! I shouldn't be punished for this-” Romans mother spoke up, she knew both her son and husband could be hot headed. She wanted to stop anything before it got the chance to begin “Roman this isn't to punish you! We want to protect you-” The Queen sounded like she was pleading with her son.

Roman did not hear her plea or just ignored it “...For how long do I have to stay there?” Roman’s mother spoke up, “Don't worry, you'll be there maximum 2-” 

“Indefinitely.” 

The King spoke in a cold unforgiving tone, Roman knew he had messed up big time. Victoria turned to her husband “Leo, we agreed he wouldn't be there for more than 2 fortnights, we agreed on that.” The Queen seemed upset but was obviously attempting not to show such emotion. 

“Those were the rules we agreed to when he was a child and he would grant being punished” Both of Roman’s parents were staring at each other, showing they weren't going to back down.

Roman spoke, “Understood.” His voice was mostly monotone but tight, Victoria turned to him with an apologetic gaze. Roman shook his head. It was his own fault, his mother shouldn't blame herself for his actions. 

“I'll tell Ruth, so we can pack.” Roman turned to leave but his father had more to say. “Before you go, Hugo won't be your assigned knight. One of the new recruits is climbing in status and popularity very quickly and he agreed to-” “babysit” Roman cut in. “-protect you. As long as I recommended him to Queen Marie for her armada” 

As if things couldn't get any better, he had to meet this new recruit, he hoped they would at least get along. Roman just nodded and opened the door to leave. At that moment, Roman’s father called the guard that had escorted Roman to get the new recruit as soon as possible, he just left as quickly as he could. 

His parents knew that not being around people and not being able to talk were some of the worse things that could happen to him. They decided it was going to be the way to punish him. Though, he never stayed for more than a month, now he understood why. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Roman- basically power walked- back to his room, his brain tortured him with memories of his 7 year old self being forced onto the tower for the first time.

No! Please it was an accident-!

I won't do it again!

I won't- Please! 

That was all he said as his father signaled the guards to take him, his mother not being able to look, turned her head away, trying to ignore every motherly instinct in her body to stand up and comfort her child. 

The guards dragged him out of the castle- the only home he knew- and shoved him in a carriage, where Ruth was waiting for him. Ruth had always been happy around him but her expression was unreadable -looking back she seemed angry, he just hadn't seen her that way before- but, Roman didn't care. He threw himself onto Ruth and sobbed his tiny heart out, Ruth trying her best to calm him down, he eventually fell asleep. Three hours later, he was woken up by Ruth.

“Were here, principito”

Roman was scared. Ruth saw it in his eyes. 

“Come on! You offend me, you really think I would let them take you to a scary place?” 

The little royal could only muster a small “no”. Ruth took his hand and walked with him toward a tower. Roman thought it was beautiful, that's the day he figured beautiful things can hurt you. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roman never got used to it. He always dreaded the ride there, all the build up to the feeling of nothingness. When he looked up at the tower, he got the same feeling that he did when he was 7, Roman learned to not look up. He’d always prefer being in the tower when he was a kid because, back then they allowed Ruth to stay behind with him. Now she would only go in the carriage with him and leave.

After they stopped allowing Ruth to stay with him, at least he had Hugo to bother, by asking him for stories of his adventures. He didn't have that anymore.

The only adventure story he had now was a vibrant red book, in the book shelf of the tower, the only fictional book in his whole collection. He will admit, it was a very smart move on his parent’s part. They always monitored what he read, filled his whole book shelf in the tower with Philosophy, Math, and Royalty etiquette. When he begged for weeks on end for an adventure book they granted him one but, they made sure it was the only book that was fictional. They wouldn't give him an adventure book based on real events, No! That would be giving Roman too much hope. 

Good move.

[mobagehelllocal]

“i can hold the world in my hands” ver ii - deuce, jade, floyd & silver

A/N: Hello hello I finally finished farming the FGO event. I’m continuing the “i can hold the world in my hands” series with some self-indulging choices~ I won’t write anymore for this series unless people request for it. For the ones who have sent in requests, please do not worry! I will get right on it since that will be my next writing priority~! :)

Now! Without further ado~ Let’s get some fluff!

other versions: ver i (dorm leaders), ver ii (this), ver iii (jamil), ver iv (ruggie, rook, lilia), ver v (trey), ver vi (ace, jack, epel, sebek)

--

Underneath his breath, Deuce rapidly muttered out the magical theories written in Riddle’s notes. His brows furrowed, and his mouth, pouted--a soft giggle escaped your lips because you can’t help admire how genuinely adorable he was being. 

You knew about his past--he had already told you that he used to be a delinquent, and that he worried his mother so much so that he wanted to change his image in high school. He was doing his best to be a model student--the type of student he thought, would make his mother proud. It was sweet, and it made you want to cheer him on as much as possible.

You quietly slid a drink his way, just something he can use to refresh himself with--studying magic theory was difficult. It wasn’t exactly for everyone. It was something you couldn’t help with either, because regardless of how much you tried to understand--you had no magic. You would never be able to really comprehend the topic. So, the most you can do was sit by his side, give him a drink and maybe snacks when he looked really stressed.

Seeing the drink at the corner of his eye, Deuce closed the notebook and leaned his head back against his seat.

“My head hurts.” he whined, and you laughed.

“But you’re almost done.” you placed a hand on his shoulder, and he hummed as you rubbed it gently, “just a little more.”

“I might need a break.” he said after a moment of silence, the faintest glitter of mischief in his green eyes was definitely the delinquent in him. You smiled, you loved this about him too-of course.

“Hm...” you tapped your lower lip, “then let me tell you a trick I learnt back home.”

He tilted his head in interest, and you shot him a grin.

“Did you know, I can hold the world in my hands?”

“What?” he gaped, you chuckled at his expression--leave it to Deuce to actually believe you meant it--literally. “Wait, how? Like is it magic? But no it’s not magic, you don’t have magic--so wait how does that work--”

Your hands land on his cheeks, and you squished his face.

“What are you doing?” he shot you a quizzical look.

“Holding the world.” you winked. He stared at you confused.

“I...” you tilted your head, patiently waiting for him to respond. “I don’t get it.” he said finally, and a snort slipped out of you, followed by a guffaw. In fact, you’re so amused, you begin to tear up, and your hands slip away to cover your mouth.

“What? Why are you laughing Prefect? I really don’t get it!” He had a genuinely frustrated expression on his face, and it makes you laugh even harder.

“Oh you adorable boyfriend of mine.” you pinched his cheeks, and he lets out a yelp. “I mean that you’re my world.”

“Oh.” his eyes are wide, and you give him several more moments to understand what you tried to convey to him. “Oh... you mean... I’m your... that is...”

“Yes.” You nodded firmly, “you’re my world Deuce.”

He stared back at you, genuinely amazed, as heat crawled up his face. “I’m-- that is--eh--you” he shakily cleared his own throat, before his hands moved to cup your cheeks as well.

“You...” his face turned a brilliant shade of red reminiscent to a certain dorm leader’s. “you’re my world too.”

When Ace and Grimm returned to the dorm room bringing even more snacks, they’re met by the sight of the the two of you sitting a space a part, with beet red faces. Ace and Grimm shared an expression of disgust.

“Eww.”

--

When Jade couldn’t entertain you because he was busy doing errands for Azul, or working at Mostro Lounge--he would calmly slip an arm around your waist, and lead you off to relax in his bedroom. He would usher you into his bed, wrap you tight in his blankets, before leaving to go back to whatever he was doing.

So here you were, wrapped snugly in his blankets, blinking slowly as you had just awoken from a brief nap. The door opened, and Jade slipped in with a tray of your favourite drink from Mostro Lounge.

“Good afternoon my flower,” he greeted softly, “did you have a good nap?”

“Mhm... yeah.” You blinked rapidly, trying to shoo the sleep away now that your beau was here. “you spoil me too much Jade.”

“Ohoh... I’ll have to disagree,” his lips curled into that familiar smile that made your heart skip several beats. The same smile that made you fall head over heels for the merman. “I do not believe I spoil you enough.” He gently gave you your drink, and placed the tray down onto the bedside table. You take the straw, and slip it between your lips as you watched him undress his outer layers, at a slow pace. He put his hat down, carefully folded his scarf at the end of the bed, and slipped off his outer blazer. When he looked up, and caught your gaze, his smile widened.

“Oh my. Is there a reason you were staring, my flower?” You felt your whole face flush red at that.

“N-no!” you stuttered out, and his eyes slid shut, making him all the more devious looking.

“Please stop teasing me Jade.”

“I can’t help it. It comes naturally to me.” He chuckled lightly, as he removed his bowtie, and took a seat next to you. He noticed you were done with your drink, and without saying anything, grabbed it, to put on the bedside table. You couldn’t help but pout a little.

“Jade--I want to do something for you too.” ‘Or rather, I wish I could fluster you the way you do to me.’

“Hm?” he wrapped an arm around your waist before he gently pulled you up against him. You basically slackened in his arms, and his smile had a glint of amusement. What people seemed to forget was that as Floyd’s twin brother, Jade gave some pretty great tight hugs too. You could spend all day in his arms if you could.

“This is enough for me, flower.” he said, as he rearranged the two of you to be lying down on his bed--with you halfway on top of him.

“Yeah but... I feel like you’ve given me so much--and I don’t give back a fraction of what you do.” He tilted his head, his gold and olive eyes glimmered with affection. “You can try.” He said, his lips curled. You puffed your cheeks, and he chuckled as he stroked your back, while you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

‘What can I do for him?’ You nuzzled your head. ‘Or rather--I want to him to be flustered. I want him to blush. What can I do?’ Sensing that you were deep in thought, his lips curled even more, before he shut his eyes, waiting patiently for whatever it was you would throw at him. That, was what was fun with you after all. You weren’t very predictable, and it gave Jade a thrill.

When you suddenly moved away from his hold, he opened his eyes, to find you staring at him determinedly from above.

“My my...” his lips curled, “isn’t this a sight I can get used to?”  You feel your flush rise all the way to your ears.

“Jade!” he chuckled in response.

“I do apologize flower.” he quirked his brow. “so what are you planning on doing now?”

You steadied yourself above him and took in a deep breath.

“Jade, do you know I know how to hold the world in my hands?” He arched a fine brow at that. You could tell he didn’t think it was possible, but that he would humor you for now.

“Oh? I haven’t heard about this before.” he looked at you thoughtfully, “how exactly would one go about holding the world?”

When he feels your fingers slide across his jawline, and curve around his cheeks--he blinked in wonder.

His normally heavy lidded eyes went wide, his brows raised, his lips were parted ever so slightly and the slightest rush of pink rose to his cheeks.

Jade--startled and flustered--you had rarely seen such a face.

“I’m holding my world in my hands.” you said, with such a beautiful, tender smile that Jade’s heart instantly fluttered in excitement. His smile bloomed again--except this one wasn’t sly, or amused--but sincere and filled with love. His blush was still there, just the slightest shade of pink--but you can see it--and you couldn’t help but bask in your success.

“Oya... you remain the only one who can surprise me like this.” he chuckled softly, as he reached out a gloved hand to pull your face closer to his. He pressed a soft, but heated kiss on your lips. Once he pulled away, you regarded him with a pink face.

“How cute.” he muttered, and the next thing you knew--was that he flipped your positions.

“Jade!” you squeaked lightly, and he smiled in response. With his bigger frame, it was easy for him to grab both of your hands and keep them beside your head. Meanwhile his other leg moved between your thighs. “Jade!” your breath hitched in response, and this time for sure--there was a very satisfied smirk on his lips.

“I do apologize my flower, but I couldn’t help myself with you being as cute as you are.” He leant down to kiss your forehead, then nose, cheek and finally lips. “Won’t you show me cuter expressions?”

“--!”

“Yes,” he mused “just like that...” he trailed off as he moved to kiss you once more.

--

When you enter Mostro Lounge in search of Floyd, you’re immediately greeted by Azul.

“Ah, you’re here.” Azul nodded in acknowledgement, “Floyd is... having one of his terrible moods...”

“Say no more.” Azul breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the Witch of the Seas that you were always willing to reign in your boyfriend--especially when Jade was out, busy. “I’ll handle it. Is he in his room?” When he gave you an affirmative nod, you went on your way. The Octavinelle students parted around you--all shooting you thankful expressions in the process.

You knocked gently on his door, only to hear incoherent grumbling. You giggled to yourself, pushed open the door, and playfully peeked in. Floyd was hidden underneath his quilt--making it look like there was a huge mound just shifting around on the bed.

“Azul go away.” the mound shook, and you almost let out an ‘awww.’

“Nope~” you said in a sing-song tone. “Guess who?”  

The mound paused, before Floyd’s head peaked out of the covers. The lifeless frown on his face immediately turned into a smile often reserved only for you. Your heart melted at his change of expression, and the gleam of adoration on it--but you also felt a little sad, it’s not as bright as it normally was.

“Shrimpy!” He quickly sat upright, and opened the blanket in invitation. With a smile, you took off your shoes, before Floyd impatiently pulled you into his arms, and underneath the blanket. He repositioned the two of you so that you were sitting on his lap, with your legs wrapped around his waist, his arms around your own waist, and his face nuzzled into your neck. You could also feel the way he wrapped the blanket around you, and the following squeeze he gave.  

“Hello Floyd~ how are you?”

“Better now that you’re here.” was his muffled reply, and you felt your face warm.

“Why, did something happen?” You felt him shrug.

“Nothing. Just sad.”

“Aww.” you reach up a hand to brush through his hair, and he hugged you tighter in response.

‘How could I cheer Floyd up?’

The thing with having Floyd as your boyfriend, meant that you often had to come up with different ways to cheer him up. Often, a method you used once wouldn’t work twice. The one method that always worked was if you submitted yourself to his cuddles for as long as he wanted.

The reason you came up with different methods was--

Well.

You loved him. Truly. Even if you knew it was normal for him to be as moody as he was--you never wanted to see Floyd sad. So you were always just willing to come up with ways to cheer him up.

‘So what could I do...’ While you were thinking, Floyd rubbed his cheek against yours absentmindedly, and your eyes widened in realization. ‘I can do that!’

“Floyd, baby, can you look at me?”

“Hngh...”

“Come on, just a second okay?” you coaxed gently, until he pulled back and stared at you with a confused pout.

“Shrimpy... why... I want to keep cuddling...” he whined softly.

“Listen to this Floyd.” You slid your arms away from his waist, at which he made a mournful noise that broke your heart.

“You know, I can hold the world in my hands.”

“I don’t care.” his pout grew severe as his hold on you tightened.

“Come now, let me at least show you how I can do it--then we can go back to the cuddles.”

“... Fine... just so we can cuddle fas--”

When he feels your hands slip to cup his face gently, he stared at you in surprise. Your eyes grew tender as he finally met your gaze.

“There we go. I’m holding the world in my hands.”

“Shrimpy...” he stared at you, awed, ‘for you to think this of him... he feels....’

‘He feels.’

His face lit up with the big smile that you’ve come to so ardently love.

“And there’s the smile I love!--” you let out a yelp when you’re suddenly tackled down onto the bed.

“Floyd?”

Floyd looked down at you, and you gulped a little at that gleam of mischief in his two-toned eyes and that slight curl on his lip...

“I too~ Will show Shrimpy... how important you are to me...”

“Wait--mhm!”

“Mhm~ I love you too Shrimpy~”

--

Silver was asleep again.

You smiled wryly to yourself, as you carded your fingers through his hair. When he hadn’t picked you up after class, you knew you’d find him here--in this meadow. His last class for today was flying, with this meadow being at the midpoint between the field and your classroom. This wasn’t the first time he hadn’t shown up to pick you up, only to have fallen asleep here.

You were always worried about Silver--worried about where he might accidentally fall asleep, and in the chance he gets endangered by it. You tried not to--after all, you knew he was a knight, and how well he did his job when... well... when he was awake.

Whenever you conveyed your worries to Silver, he always dismissed it--saying that he had gotten used to it, and that he had never gotten in danger before.

But what was he expecting? For you to be able to completely stop worrying?

You cared about him very deeply--after all, you loved him.

So you did what you could do given the circumstance--you tried to see him as often as possible. Just to make sure he was awake. He had originally raised a brow at your sudden... well... clingy tendencies... but all in all didn’t seem to be suspicious.

Lilia knew though, and the old man laughed.

“He really should stop making you fret... it’s not very knightly of him.” Lilia’s smirk revealed the tip of his fangs.

“It’s really not because of the sudden sleeping,” you confessed, “either way, I’ll always be worried for him...because...” you flushed red, and Lilia’s smirk widened. “I really do love him.”

“It makes me happy to see you so devoted to that child.” he mused. “I genuinely am... but”

“But?”

“But little one, you really should explain it to him--your worry that is.”

“I’ve tried Lilia.” you frowned, “I can’t seem to get it across to him.”

“I’m certain you just haven’t tried everything you can do.” he gestured for you to lower yourself so he can pat you warmly on the head. “Why don’t you tell him how important he is to you?”

“I’m sure you can do something about our Silver.”

You idly wondered how to go about Lilia’s advice, when you noticed movement on your lap. You looked down to see Silver’s pale, tangled lashes flickering ever so slightly.

“Good morning Silver...”

He blinked blearily up at you.

“Ah... did I... fall asleep?”

“Mhm.” you hummed, his eyes slipped shut again.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” ‘I’m used to it.’

“Your lap is comfortable.” he murmured, and the light flush that had already been in your cheeks since you decided to put his head on your lap--darkened considerably.

“Why don’t you tell him how important he is to you?”

You weren’t very good at serious things, but maybe that played a part in why Silver didn’t really understand your worry.

“Hey... Silver?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know... I could hold the world in my hands?” His nose scrunched up, and he opened his eyes to gaze up at you.

“Is that... possible?”

“Yeah.” you hesitated as you stopped stroking his hair. “can I show you?”

He nodded his head as well as he could from his position when he felt the way you place your palms against his cheeks. His eyes widened as he stared into your own glimmering ones.

“You’re my world, Silver.”

He exhaled at that, and he momentarily shut his eyes in irritation at himself. ‘I’ve made her needlessly worry about me, haven’t I?’

“I... I don’t know how much I can promise you.” He started, “Lord Malleus... even my old man... they don’t fully understand my condition but... I’ll try to stay awake more.”

“If you can’t... can you sleep in a more crowded place? Like maybe where people will see you at least. So they know where you are.” He blinked at your suggestion before he nodded.

“I think I can do that.”

“That’s good.” you sighed in relief, and just as you were about to move away, Silver reached for your own cheek. He stroked it, before he guided your face closer to his own.

‘From this angle--’

“You know, from this angle...” he smiled very gently, and you felt hot, all the way to the tips of your ears. He was so beautiful--his features so delicate--he was like a prince. “All I see is you. You’re my world to you know?”

His grip tightened, and he used his other elbow to slowly raise himself to give you a light feathery kiss.

--

[astudyinfreewill]

hey this may be a stupid question, but it's already been a long time since ive read trk so i don't remember everything properly, so can you explain to me why exactly ganseys behavior in the book is seen as problematic??

hey! don’t worry, there are no stupid questions in my book. in fairness, it’s not about gansey’s behaviour in trk, it’s about his behaviour throughout the whole series. most of his problematic actions all come down to the same basic flaw: self-centeredness. for all that gansey is a generous and loving person, he can’t help but make everything about himself. he is driven by anxiety to define his place in the world beyond his privilege, yet he is blinded by that very same privilege - a bad combination, and one that leads him to show very little empathy for the people he loves.

like many teenagers, he’s looking for affirmation from his friends... but then resents them for not giving it, while failing to see that (most of) his friends are dealing with traumatic issues. when his friends reject his input - because it is not what they need or want at the moment - gansey always, always takes it personally. at no point does he try to ask himself, okay, if this isn’t what my friends need, then what do they need from me and how can i be a better friend? instead, he goes straight into self-pity mode, complaining that his friends reject his support and walk away from him. thing is... it’s not real support if it only makes him feel better and not them.

i don’t really have the time to write an extensive meta on all of the interactions where gansey’s lack of empathy comes into play, but here’s a list of just the most glaring ones in the series, in no particular order:

gansey consistently tries to pay for adam’s way and persuade him to move in with him, even though adam has told him multiple times that he is uncomfortable with it because independence is key to his sense of self as an abuse survivor. sometimes he does this even when he’s fully aware that it will start a fight. despite that, adam is usually the one apologizing, at least on page

notably in trb there’s a scene where gansey tries to get adam to move in with him, but when adam asks what’s going to happen if gansey leaves henrietta - is adam just supposed to drop out of aglionby and follow him? - gansey doesn’t reassure him that’s not gonna happen. he just says adam will have to start again at a new school. 

as i said above, this is not true support because it helps gansey feel better without inconveniencing him, but it is not what adam wants. if gansey wanted to support adam, he’d at least promise he would stay in henrietta for their final year of high school, instead of expecting adam to follow him around the world.

when adam rejects that offer and says he’ll stay in the trailer park, gansey takes it incredibly personally and his first response is to victim-blame adam for his abuse, saying things like: “you let your dad pound the shit out of you. you’re as bad as [your abusive mother]. you think you deserve it.” when adam still refuses to move in, and tells him, rightfully so, that gansey doesn’t know what it’s like for him, gansey follows that up with “don’t pretend you have anything to be proud of”. this is past mean and straight into cruel.

adam is the one who apologizes after this fight. let that sink in.

when thinking back on ronan’s suicide attempt, it is strongly implied in the text - and was made explicit in deleted scenes - that gansey appears to have taken ronan’s suicide attempt not just as a traumatic event, but as a slight against him, and is always vaguely guilt-trippy when it comes up (i.e. you promised me you wouldn’t get suicidal again)

gansey does illegal things on ronan’s behalf, multiple times, without ever wondering if this is what ronan wants, see: bribing school officials to keep ronan in school when ronan explicitly wants to drop out, because staying in school is what gansey thinks he should do. even if gansey’s heart was in the right place (i believe in staying in school), he is essentially involving ronan in illegal dealings against his will.

gansey is happy to share his search for glendower with the others, and delegate tasks to them (adam especially) as long as they do things his way. when adam acts against one of his decisions, gansey is absolutely unable to let that go. and while i understand that he is hurt by the breach of trust, because adam went behind his back, his language is telling: “i did tell him that we were to wait, right?”. you don’t “tell” your friends what they “are to do”. that’s not an equal relationship. 

this is also seen in the way gansey acts with ronan in more of a parental role, actively ordering him about. you know there is a problem when an outside character refers to ronan as “gansey’s dog” and neither gansey nor ronan disagree with this.

there’s the infamous hospital scene in trb, too, which has been excellently analysed in this meta post by @bleachersmp3 and @mericatblackwood, but i’ll say a few words about it anyway

in this scene, adam has just been beaten into losing his hearing. he has just come out of the hospital, bruised and traumatised, and has been told he will now have a permanent disability as a result of his abuse. he is now also homeless, because by pressing charges against his father to protect ronan, he has ensured his parents will kick him out for good. so he is forced to move into monmouth - something we have been told from the start of the book he absolutely did not want, because it was critical to his sense of self not to depend on gansey’s wealth. so, he’s bitter about it.

and okay, that’s not entirely fair, because it wasn’t gansey’s fault. but if your friend had just undergone such horrific trauma, surely you would be a little lenient, and understand they’re not being objective atm, right? well, not gansey. instead, gansey launches into a tirade at him: “what is your problem, adam? [...] is there something about my place that’s too repugnant for you? [...] I’m sick of tiptoeing around your principles!”

when adam snaps at him that he’s being condescending by using highbrow words (we can assume that this is a discussion they’ve had before, because adam tries to get gansey to use more everyday words multiple times in the book, especially when it’s clear that blue doesn’t understand something, so it’s something gansey already know adam finds condescending), gansey goes straight to victim-blaming again, this time with a classist twist thrown in: “i’m sorry your father never taught you the meaning of repugnant. he was too busy smashing your head against the wall of your trailer while you apologized for being alive.”

gansey does not apologize at any point after this fight. 

when adam sacrifices himself to cabeswater - which he does explicitly to stop whelk from murdering one of them and save gansey - gansey takes it as a slight against him, because it goes against what he told adam to do, and sadly asks adam “why? was i so awful?”, showing he has completely misunderstood adam’s reasons. adam tells him, and not for the last time: “it was never about you”.

it clearly doesn’t sink in bc they have the same discussion in the dream thieves, when gansey again asks him why did he go to cabeswater against his orders. he does this in an emotionally manipulative way, too - implying that ronan and blue both think badly of him while gansey has been defending him so adam owes him. adam again tries to tell him “it wasn’t about you”, which gansey refuses to believe, and reminds adam that the glendower search “belongs” to him. adam replies that if gansey wants adam’s help - which gansey relies upon frequently, as it seems like adam is assigned a very large share of research and coming up with ideas - he needs to treat him as an equal

after the fight, when adam has a mental breakdown due to the combination of stress, ptsd, and magically-induced hallucinations, and is found wandering along a highway, clearly dissociating and undergoing amnesia, gansey is still so bitter about their fight that he contemplates leaving him behind in dc, so that “adam will have to apologize for once” (for once???)

consider all this emphasis gansey puts on how much adam betrayed his trust; consider that gansey then spends nearly two books seeing blue behind adam’s back (starting in tdt, through bllb, and halfway through trk)

consider that despite the fact adam takes the reveal gracefully and thanks gansey for his honesty, when adam later in trk is honest with gansey about his feelings for ronan, gansey’s immediate reaction is to assume adam is using ronan as a sexuality experiment and warns him not to break ronan’s heart, because ronan is just so fragile and adam is just so cold

consider that the only basis gansey has for making this assumption is that “adam has hurt him (gansey) so many times before”, but never stops to think about his own responsibility in their disagreements, or whether he ever hurt adam 

as you can see, the vast majority of these are in the first two books, with the exception of the “shovel talk” in trk. i would like to say gansey grows over the series, but i think unfortunately it’s more to do with the fact that starting with bllb, the plot is split between gansey/blue and adam/ronan, so gansey just doesn’t get as many interactions with adam and ronan (he’s still bribing school officials on ronan’s behalf though, including selling monmouth which at the time is where ronan is also living). 

gansey isn’t a bad person, and doesn’t (always) mean badly. he does love his friends. unfortunately, his refusal to see things from anyone’s perspective but his own makes him a toxic friend on a great number of occasions.

[izzyliker]

hey - this is one of the mods of the bi jon project. we don't actually dislike or disagree with pan jon at all, we just want to make a project focused on and celebrating bisexuality. our carrd is a bit rambling, but frankly we were trying our best/overcompensating to try and make sure people didn't misunderstand us and do - well, this. our intentions are good, and it's really kind of disenheartening to see all the hate we've gotten for what was meant to be a positive project. (1)

you're under no obligation to answer these, but i saw some of your posts in the tag and felt like reaching out because you did give us even the tiniest bit of slack in good faith. honestly, if you have any advice about what in our carrd is so overwhelmingly bad, we'd be happy to hear it. we've been trying to respond to the overwhelming amount of criticism we've got in a positive way, and take peoples' suggestions. (2)

as for why 'no anti-antis' was at the bottom of our rules list, it's legitimately bc we were trying so hard to be preventative about this negativity that we forgot to add it when we first posted the blog, and just remembered later. again, you're under no obligation to answer these, i just feel like no one's really actually letting us defend ourselves/are taking things in as bad faith a way as possible. (3)

im not exactly sure how the posts showed up in the tag bc ive been very purposefully not tagging them, also ive blocked all of you back (not sure why you blocked me if you actually want feedback, so it seems more like you just want free positive pr and not actual feedback) so its unlikely youll see whatever it is that i reply to this but whatever. 

the issues have all been repeatedly brought up to you so i dont really see how me repeating all of them once again could help. when i last looked at the cardd the things that stood out immediately included. 

pitting ace & bi identities and people against each other REPEATEDLY,  

starting off with a guilt trippy tone and maintaining it throughout (in my experience this is the #1 best way to receive backlash because people do not want to participate in events where you feel like youre being guilted into it, which going into scrutinizing detail over there not being enough content and passing judgement onto authors or artists over it is something that comes across as guilt trippy.),

repeatedly equating asexuality with sex repulsion (not to get into the misleading information about modteam aspec identity breakdowns, since you claimed that 3/4 of the team are aspec, which is technically correct, but what you didnt say was that only one is acespec. surely you know that [allosexual] aro and [alloromantic] ace are not interchangeable) and calling using biromantic over bisexual a “misunderstanding” of the identity as if how to define romantic vs sexual attraction (how to divide, if or if not to divide, use interchangeably different labels) isnt a deeply personal choice ace people who experience romantic attraction make, 

claiming that bisexual jon is canon (he isn’t. this is why people are suspicious of anti-other mspec identities sentiments. which theyre right, if youll be so kind as to stick around til the last paragraph) and repeatedly implying that the reason there isnt “enough” content centering bi jon because the aces are simply unable to not fixate on his asexuality (again, pitting identities against each other),

making the banned ship list way needlessly confusing and including ships that dont even include jon to it, which simply comes across as some kind of a list of bad ships, idk. a way to bypass this would simply be to say “we are looking for portrayals of healthy relationships!” and that couldve just been it. if you felt that that wouldnt exclude specific ships (eg. jondaisy that a lot of people write as a relationship between trauma survivors who have done very bad things trying to get better and learning to trust each other) it is possible to simply say “the modteam is squicked[/triggered] by ships with daisy/elias/peter and we’d like to read all of the works submitted so we’re asking not to receive submissions with those ships.” hating ships is literally completely normal but making rules hard to parse is going to attract questions, especially when the implication is that ships are excluded on the grounds of morality, and a blatant power difference ship (jonelias) is equated with jondaisy, which is from what ive seen almost exclusively shown to be a relationship between equals. that makes people EXTREMELY confused about where the line is. thats why youre getting so many questions about this.  

in general the carrd was spotty, guilt trippy, and needlessly moralizing where it definitely did not need to be. the key to getting people to engage without getting backlash is to make the event seem fun. when your carrd is filled with stuff about unrelated negative stuff people are not going to think it’s a fun event at all. 

and none of this even gets into the fact that at least one of the mods has a history of open hostility against pan people. i heard through the grapevine that he has since made a fauxpology about it, but frankly it already shone through in the language used in the event descriptions. its extremely hard to take any of this is good faith when it is easy to see that one of the organizers is quite fucking clear about thinking pansexuality is biphobic and the carrd is or at least used to be full of anti-pan (and other mspec identity) dogwhistles, and is notorious in some of the tma fic author circles for being extremely fucking nasty about trans men writing fic he doesn’t like to the point of pretending that we’re all cis people (in case youre not keeping track that is misgendering us by implication) because he doesn’t like it. i think some of you (or maybe all of you? idk) in general could stand to examine whether your engagements and participations in the fandom have been at all about having fun or adding positivity to anything, or simply making posts about what other people are doing wrong. it seems that every post i see from anyone in this group is guilt trippy and authoritative, and sadly this translated directly into the event. 

when youre, say, a trans man whose first touch to one of the mods was a post about how fic where trans men have piv sex with cis men is hurting him personally and making it a moral issue and not a matter of a simple preference to the point where he feels comfortable making claims about the trans men (and transmasc nonbinary people) writing fic about trans characters re: their gender or whether theyre fetishizing trans men, your willingness to engage in good faith with an event hosted by him that features numerous red flags is not going to be unconditional. 

im sorry to hear that it has been bad for your mental health, and idk whats fucking going on with this event anymore, but my good faith interpretations have diminished significantly since i saw the shit tmc specifically has been saying about pansexual people and pansexuality as an identity label. i have no clue where the rest of you stand but tmc has repeatedly, consistently shown himself to be unable to act in good faith towards anyone other than people who agree with him.  

[virgojeons]

true love (jjk)

summary: you and jungkook spend your first christmas together. 

alternatively, a merry love story based on the lyrics of true love by ariana grande.

genre: fluff, humor, college au, established relationship, holiday series, jeon jungkook x reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing, implied sexual content, excessive use of pet names

wattpad version here, ao3 version here

a/n: well, here i am!! pls be gentle with me, this is the first time ive ever posted my writing on here and ive been debating it for months lmao. i truly truly hope u enjoy!!

on the first day of christmas when you gave me all them kisses, boy you showed me things, come hold me please and never let me go.

"Five days until Christmas and you're still decorating the tree?"

You yelped at the sudden sound of your boyfriend's voice, dropping your over-accessorized ornament and watching helplessly as it shattered against the floor.

Immediately, you whined. "Jungkook!"

Jungkook suppressed a grin at the furrow of your eyebrows and the pout of your lips, kicking his shoes off and tossing his coat onto the couch. He didn't mean to scare you, really. You even knew he was coming over. It's just that you left the front door unlocked (as you always did when he was on his way, despite him constantly scolding you for it) and there was no way you would've heard him come in over the sound of Jingle Bell Rock blaring through the house.

"Sorry, baby," He chuckled, bending down beside you to help pick up the remnants of your best ornament. "I didn't mean to scare you."

You glared at him in between collecting the shards of glass in your hand. "I spent hours making that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Hot glue gun burns, sparkles stuck on my face and everything."

Jungkook took the pieces of glass from you with an amused look on his face, standing from his kneeling position to toss them in the trash can you had earlier moved to the living room for easy access. "I'm sorry. I'll make you another one."

"It's not the same." You sulked, finding fun in being stubborn and giving him a hard time. It was getting increasingly difficult though, with his rosy nose and ears and that little gleam in his eyes.

It was then that he made his first move of the night, tugging you by your oversized Rudolph sweater so quickly that you had to latch onto his shoulders for leverage with a squeal. His grin only seemed to grow once you were officially in his space, taking notice of your lack of pants and the snowflake stockings that appeared to be in their place instead.

"You don't look too sorry," You chuckled, heart stuttering at the way he was gazing down at you in such close proximity.

Jungkook shrugged, nudging his nose with yours. "I'm just happy."

They were such simple words, but it was the way he said them, the way he looked at you when he said them. You couldn’t lie, the excitement of spending your first Christmas together, completely alone, was incredibly infectious. It was gross and it was corny and everything else you swore you would never be, but you were in love with Jungkook. Devastatingly so. You from nine months ago probably wouldn’t even recognize the present you; a fact that friends, family, and even Jungkook alike loved to tease you about. Cracking the so-called ice queen was a feat to be celebrated, apparently. Whatever. He was yours and you were his so you didn’t quite care about the technicalities of it. Even if the story went a bit differently, in your opinion. 

The brutal snow and temperatures of February were beginning to fade into spring when you met Jungkook. 

You and Jimin had been attempting to finish your economics homework together in your favorite coffee shop; a hidden treasure that was a ten minute walk from campus and ticked all your aesthetic boxes. You two were sipping from your respective hot drinks, neglecting your heaps of bookwork in favor of discussing the new season of Stranger Things. Jimin was deep into his theory of Hopper still being alive when his eyes flickered to the door at the sound of the bell, widening slightly in recognition before a bright smile took over his face.

"Jungkook!" Jimin called, waving whoever it was over.

You followed his gaze and turned your head in the direction of the entrance, growing curious when the boy walking towards your table wasn't familiar to you. It took you less than five seconds to realize that the boy in question was attractive. 

Like, extremely attractive. The kind of attractive that should not be subjected to the way you look right now. 

It took you even less time to whip your head back around, glaring at Jimin with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

He met your glare with a confused scrunch of his eyebrows before it slowly transformed into a smirk, quickly catching on to what your pointed look was for. The night before had been a late one. You, like any other normal millennial, had impulse bought a pretty yellow Nintendo Switch solely for the new Animal Crossing game. As soon as it arrived on your doorstep you were retreating into your room, tearing the package open with squeals of excitement.

Maybe you completely lost track of time and played until your eyes were bloodshot and you heard birds chirping outside. Maybe you got an astounding two hours of sleep. And maybe you had fallen asleep without setting an alarm and woke up thirty minutes later than usual. 

The details were insignificant though, because you were throwing on a pair of leggings and the first sweatshirt you saw, brushing your hair and your teeth, and hastily sprinting to your car all in record time.

No sleep. No makeup. No breakfast. And worst of all, no coffee.

And so, it was blatantly clear you had no desire to let a boy that beautiful even glance at you in that state, let alone introduce himself. But it didn't look like you had a choice in the matter, because moments later he was towering over your table with a stupidly handsome smile.

Jungkook grinned, reaching out to do that Weird Bro Handshake with Jimin. "Hey, Chim."

You were already plotting various methods of painful revenge in your head.

"Hey, Kook. What are you doing here?"

"I kind of work here," He chuckled. "Well, as of like, yesterday. Today's my first day."

"Oh, so this is the new job you were telling me about," Jimin nodded in realization, then his eyes flickered mischievously to yours. You’re rapidly shaking your head. "You know, this is my friend ___'s favorite coffee spot."

A scowl immediately takes over your face, only to be wiped off and replaced by a sickeningly sweet smile when Jungkook turns his head to look your way. The instant your eyes meet his you quite literally want to melt into the floor. 

Jungkook smiles at you. Like, really smiles. "Hey, that's cool. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other then, right?"

Across the table, Jimin snorts, which only adds to the way your cheeks are absolutely flaming. You send a harsh kick to Jimin's leg as inconspicuously as you can, all while batting your eyelashes at Jungkook.

"Uh, yeah! We probably... will."

Jungkook looks positively amused, but if he notices Jimin rushing to clutch his leg, he doesn't say anything.

"Sweet," He grins again. There's a brief few seconds where you two are just gazing at each other, stupid and shy, until Jimin loudly clears his throat. "Right, well, I should probably go clock in. Let's chill sometime this week, Chim."

"Sure thing." Jimin sings, smugness plastered all over his face.

Jungkook waves, already backing away from the table with his eyes on you. "Nice meeting you."

You feel yourself flush again and you absolutely hate it. "Nice meeting you too."

With a final smile, Jungkook disappears behind the employee doors. The moment he leaves your eyes are screwed shut and you're slamming your head against the table. The silence speaks for itself. You don't even need to see Jimin's face to know that he's either smirking or stifling his laughter.

"Don't." You warn.

"You just blushed," He says anyway. "Like, four times."

"I most definitely did not blush."

"You did. You still are."

"I'm embarrassed!" You wail. "That's literally the only reason why. I look like I got ran over and dragged for three blocks."

"Jungkook sure doesn't seem to think so," Jimin hums, snickering as he sips his coffee.

"Stop."

"He likes you." He insists.

"He was just being polite." You defend.

"That is literally my childhood best friend. I think I would know."

This makes you pause. Then you sigh. "He doesn't even know me."

He doesn’t disagree. But then again, "Not yet."

"Stop trying to play matchmaker, Jimin. He said five words to me," You spoke firmly, exasperated as you downed the final sip of your latte. "Plus, I'm just focusing on me and my degree right now. No distractions."

Jimin knew that you were already worn out, and even though he was mostly joking around, he wouldn’t want to push you any further. He’d drop it.

"Fine. We'll see who's right in the end, though."

For now.

"I will dump that hot coffee over your head."

As it turns out, Jimin was kind of right.

It takes a grand total of four visits to your favorite coffee shop before Jungkook asks you out. The first time you were by yourself, nose buried in a book as Jungkook was clocking in. He wasn't able to speak to you until about an hour later, when the morning rush had passed and you had finally lifted your head from whatever was in that book. 

You were honestly dreading facing him again, but you were prepared and actually presentable this time. Also you were kind of starving. And so, you hesitantly approached the counter. Jungkook took your order, both of you all fidgeting hands and sheepish smiles. You mentally patted yourself on the back when you spoke without any real mess-ups, and prayed that the cool girl aura you always tried so desperately to maintain was being transmitted. 

Not like you were trying to leave a lasting impression, or anything.

He hand delivered you your coffee and muffin with a beaming grin, all while his new boss glared at him from behind the counter. He didn't have to know that you knew cashiers weren't supposed to serve the food.

The second visit was a few days after. You were with Jimin again, shooting down every jab he made about you only wearing a pretty dress because you knew you would be coming here. Jungkook joined you both during his break. As soon as he untied his apron and sat himself directly across from you, it struck. You knew you were screwed. You just couldn't stop staring at him. The chin in the palm of your hands and sparkles in your eyes type of staring. You would be much more ashamed if you couldn’t see the way he was staring right back. Jimin found this hilarious, of course, and would subtly find ways to connect you two in conversation. You weren't sure if you loved or hated him for it.

It was that visit that Jungkook insisted on sharing his slice of strawberry cake with you, claiming he wasn't that hungry. The both of you were embarrassed, whacking his arm and dismissing him as Jimin complained about being the third wheel. By the end of his break, Jungkook was positively smitten, you were begrudgingly infatuated, and Jimin was awfully smug. He reluctantly said bye to you both, and you were slouching forward with your head in your hands the moment he disappeared from visibility.

Jimin looked extremely pleased. "Believe me now?"

"Focusing on school," You protested. It was a weak one, but. Well.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" He mused.

And suddenly, you were frantic. Panicking. This was definitely not a part of the plan.

Quickly packing up your things, you groaned loudly. "You. Maybe me. Or both. I can't think in this place anymore."

"You'll be all over each other by next week."

"Shh!" You were childishly covering your ears and speed-walking out of the café.

Try as you might, you couldn't help yourself and returned the very next day after all your classes had finished. Jungkook was already there when you walked in, taking a customer's order but doing a double take and flashing you a smile when you appeared in his line of sight. This visit consisted of nothing but pretending.

Pretending to be studying. Pretending you weren't listening to him take orders just to hear his voice. Pretending you weren't sneaking glances at him. Pretending that the way your eyes kept meeting wasn't making your skin prickle. And you were just fine pretending, until suddenly he was in the seat across from with you his apron off and a steaming hot chocolate in hand. You tried your hardest to remain indifferent, you really did. But then he was pushing the beverage towards you with gentle eyes and his smile hopeful, telling you it was his treat because he noticed how hard you were studying. And then you were melting right along with the marshmallows in that mug.

The two of you talked about your majors, your families, your favorite shows, even Jimin. You asked about his tattoos and he explained them with ease. You also may have pulled out one of the oldest tricks in the book at the sight of his knuckle tattoos, gasping in feigned wonder when you pulled his hand against yours to measure the size difference. 

His hand could swallow yours whole and still have some leftover, you discovered. It was a very rewarding experiment.

You made each other laugh and blush down to the very last second of his break. Scarily enough, being in each other's presence was so annoyingly addictive that you found yourself hesitant to watch him leave. You could tell Jungkook felt the same by the way he dragged out his goodbyes. I work again on Thursday, maybe I'll see you then? Your fingers brushed as he softly took the mug from you. It was really fun talking to you. You were biting your lip to keep from smiling embarrassingly big. You look really pretty today, by the way. And then he was off.

You made a strangled noise the second you were outside with your fingers frantically beginning to type a message to Jimin.

promise not to say i told you so :///

Jungkook asked you out on your fourth visit. As soon as you approached the counter, he just blurted it out. As if it was something he couldn't hold on his tongue any longer. You couldn't hear yourself say yes over your brain malfunctioning and the powerful thumping of your heart, but you knew you did. His heartbreakingly gorgeous grin told you so.

On his break, Jungkook brought you a latte with a heart carved in the cream. You just couldn't conceal the coo that escaped you, which quickly resulted in his cheeks reddening. 

Cute, you thought. 

He quizzed you on your personality and the type of activities you liked to do, admitting that he would use the information to conjure up the best date you would ever go on. Six days later, Jungkook stayed true to his word. Not only was it the best date you had ever been on, but you were completely certain it would ruin any other dates for you moving forward, unless they were with him. Much to your annoyance and also utter delight, you were so sure of Jeon Jungkook and your brief but striking time together that you kissed him. Right on the swings of your favorite childhood playground, first date rules tossed aside.

He was so caught off guard that his eyes expanded to twice their normal size and your teeth banged together. You drew back, slightly mortified and ready to jump to your death from the tallest slide on the playground, but Jungkook was huffing a laugh onto your lips and grabbing your face like it was nothing. Then you two got it just right, and something clicked. The earth fell off its axis and you were rendered breathless and all that nauseating cliché shit you chastised as a myth. And from that day forward, you two were completely, tooth-rottingly, inseparable.

"Easy," Jungkook proclaimed, pecking your lips. "We finished the tree."

He set you back on the floor gently, releasing a dramatic breath of air as if lifting you to place the star on top of the tree had actually winded him. As if he wasn't a muscle pig. You rolled your eyes and told him as much.

"Don't be a baby, muscle pig," You shoved at his bicep, only proving your point further when he didn't move an inch. ‘And I finished the tree.”

Instead, he caught the hand that you nudged him with and pulled your back to his chest, caging you between his arms. "Muscle pig, huh? That's what you think of me, baby?"

You flushed at the teasing lilt in his voice, suddenly very eager to escape his hold. But try as you might, he just wouldn't budge. A loud laugh left your throat as you flailed in his grasp, his muscled arms bulging in the turtleneck you bought him for his birthday a few months ago. Suddenly, you decided that you would be returning it for your own personal peace.

A high pitched whine left your mouth, one that lost all its seriousness once it was drowned out by your giggles. "Jungkook, let go of me!"

You would just not stop wiggling, and Jungkook could not stop laughing. He could live the rest of his life like this, his brain pauses to think. He's so happy.

And when you're thrashing so violently that your heel kicks his pocket with a force that has an object clattering onto the floor, Jungkook has never reacted faster in his life. Instantly your imprisonment is gone, and Jungkook is on your floor in a flash. Your eyebrows draw together at the sight of him scrambling for whatever it is, and all you're able to see is a sleek black case before he's quickly stuffing it back in his pocket.

You're eyeing him when he rises back on his feet. "Feel like sharing?"

Jungkook whistles noncommittally. "Not particularly, no."

There's a drawn-out beat of silence where you're just gazing at each other, neither one of you backing down. And then you're crossing your arms, and he's looking at your nose and your forehead and anywhere but your eyes, and then you're arching an eyebrow. He looks at you and breaks. Defeat.

"It's your present," He lets out a heavy sigh. "Well, the main one anyway."

You positively squeal. "Ooh! Can I see? Please?"

"Baby, it's the 20th."

"Can I have a hint?"

Jungkook blinks. "No, you cannot have a hint."

You're instantly pouting, but Jungkook expects that, because he knows you better than anyone else. Which is why he knows that you're a little spoiled, with a bit of a bratty streak, with just a dash of calculated charm that you use to your advantage to get just about anything you want. He's never seen it as a bad thing. In fact, he finds it cute. A little hot, too, if he's being truthful.

Anyway, he came prepared. Just as you're opening your mouth to no doubt make him spill the surprise, he's hushing you with a bruising kiss to your lips. The kind of kiss that makes you go pliant against him, the kind that makes you make a little noise in the back of your throat. The kind you've been waiting for all night. 

It’s the trick that never truly runs its course. 

And Jungkook is melting, too. Melting, turning to mush at your very feet, until you're moving backwards and clutching at his shoulders, ready to push him onto the couch.

"Mmm," He's humming against you, before he reluctantly draws back. He lets you chase his lips once, twice, before he chuckles lowly. "Hold on, angel."

You're suddenly feeling warm all over after his kisses, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into him into the couch and feel him next to you. Or maybe above you. With that chain you always tugged on dangling in your face. You really weren't picky.

You watched Jungkook break away from you and rummage through his bag with a frown and a newfound heat at the pit of your belly. "It can't wait?"

Like he said, he knows you, which means he knew kisses alone wouldn’t be able to satiate you nor get you to stop asking questions for the entire week. No matter how mind-numbing they may be.

"One second," He promised, and you definitely counted at least five, but he quickly found what he was looking for all the same. "I brought a surprise. Well, two surprises."

He was holding both of his hands behind his back with this stupid grin on his face. You squinted for a few seconds, suspicious, before breathing out a laugh. "Are you ever gonna show me?"

Jungkook looked way too happy with himself.

"The most important surprise is mistletoe, obviously. Gonna have to find a way to glue it on to the ceiling above your bed." And there was that mischievous little smile that told you he had every intention of carrying that out.

You folded your arms over your body and scoffed. Even if you were trying and failing to keep your lips from quirking up and possibly, maybe finding it a little harder to breathe all of a sudden. "You're unbelievable, Jeon."

He just winked and held up his other hand, pulling a gasp from your lips the second you realized what it was.

"The Polar Express!"

"I had to check like, four different stores in the mall to find it. That's why I got here a little late, by the way. But I thought we could make some hot chocolate like in the movie and watch it together and," Jungkook pauses to think, licking his lips. "There's a 'ride my train' joke in here somewhere but I don't know how to say it."

He's snorting at his own delivery before you are, and once your giggles permeate the air he's invading your space again with a lovesick smile.

"You are the sweetest boy," You praise, holding his pretty face with both hands and peppering small kisses all over it the way he secretly likes. "But you make me sick to my stomach sometimes."

If anything, this makes him smile even wider. "I love you too, baby."

You and Jungkook are in complete darkness besides the light coming from the TV in your room playing Polar Express. His head is on your shoulder with his arm strewn across your waist, and his entire leg slotted between yours. He's soft. He smells like the lavender body soap you keep in your shower. His gentle breaths hit your neck every time he exhales and you're now cliché enough to believe that the heart underneath you beats in tandem with yours. 

Both of your stomachs are filled from the takeout he ordered for dinner and the peppermint hot chocolate you made while he was in the shower. You're still mentally replaying the moment he stepped back in your room, towel wrapped around his waist with droplets of water cascading down his body. His prominent abs and tattoos and wet hair had you scrambling to sit up, clearing your throat as you tasked yourself with handing him his mug. If he noticed you ogling him, he surely didn’t react to it.

Made us some cocoa, you said.

He brought the beverage to his nose and sniffed once, twice, before his entire face bunched up. Peppermint is nasty. Then he was gulping it down.

I thought it was nasty, you laughed in disbelief.

Nothing you make me can be nasty. Thank you, baby.

And now you’re thoroughly warm from the tips of your fingertips down to your toes, and you figure it has less to do with the cocoa and more with the way Jungkook so obviously loves you. The way you love him.

Feeling a tugging at your shirt, you look down to see him peering up at you with a dazed twinkle in his eye. "You're not hot in this?"

You purse your lips and pause, knowing what was coming. "No. Are you?"

He has the decency to look a little clueless. He was always doing that, in a playfully childish way you grew to love.

"Actually, yeah I am," Jungkook furrows his brows, like it was something he was just now realizing. And then he's sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head, and you're instantly staring at his back and remembering the way it feels to rake your fingers up and down it, and he's turning back to you with a lazy smirk. "You don't wanna take yours off, angel?"

You swallow. "I'm okay."

Jungkook starts to laugh, that cocky laugh that is equal parts douchebag-ish and sexy. He's most definitely turning you on and he most definitely knows this, which is why you're glaring at him until he reaches over you and picks up the mistletoe from your bedside desk. He dangles it over your heads, makes sure to wriggle his eyebrows suggestively when he does it, and you want to laugh, you really do. You would probably roll your eyes and call him a nerd too while you were at it, if it weren't for the way he was changing his position and starting to lean over you. Crowding your space in your favorite way. 

Jungkook hears your breathing pick up once you're directly under him, watches the way your lips part and your eyes change for him, and decides to go for the kill.

Nothing about the kiss was soft or gentle. Jungkook clearly had a point to prove and knew how he wanted to do it. The dangling mistletoe was soon forgotten in favor of holding your face by your chin, landing with a chime on your wooden floors. He worked your mouth open in that sloppy, messy, dirty way he only exhibited when he was feeling particularly desperate. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and you were trembling underneath him, clutching at the warm skin of his back. It was nasty, absolutely obscene the way his tongue was in your mouth like his life depended on it. And you loved it. You couldn't stop making these little sounds, and Jungkook was groaning into your mouth right along with you. You were seconds away from pleading for him to do anything he wanted, to make you his, when he's abruptly pulling from you with a wet pop and a string of saliva between you.

Your ragged breaths fill the air, both of your chests heaving as you take a second to attempt to drag yourself out of the haze he's built around you two.

The asshole has the audacity to laugh. "Hot yet?"

"You don't have to bring out the mistletoe to kiss me, you know." You eventually say instead.

"I know," He pants, still smiling like the all-consuming beauty he is. "But you love Christmas. And it's our first. Wanna do it right."

You feel the need to close your eyes, let his words sink in, and so you do. You let the statement blanket over you until you're positively beaming, and when you open your eyes, he is the same. You are so irreversibly in love and you think he might be perfect. You tell him as much.

"You're perfect," You say, all soft and starry eyed. You're nodding when he starts shaking his head, and when the tips of his ears begin to turn red and he's putting his head down, you're giggling and putting both hands on either side of his head to get his eyes back on yours. "I love you a lot."

Jungkook is so happy. "Love you most."

And then he's leaning down again. This kiss is much less frantic, more steady, but still passionate and still with Jungkook, which means it fills your body with heat all the same. Your head is floating and you're squirming under his hold again when you break apart for air.

There's no point in trying to resist him anymore. You never can.

"I'm gonna take my sweater off now."

Jungkook scrunches his nose, and grins. "Okay."

read part two here!

[nobody-knose--archive]

i’ve been aching to commentate spirit phone’s commentary for ages. glad i finally got around to it, this was an ejoyable experience. liveblog below the cut

-i'm like half certain i've heard this commentary before. maybe not the whole way through & it was probably actual years ago

-nice hearing stuff like this. in-depth personal view of the album-making process. makes it seem like more of a real thing i could do myself someday

-neil cicierega real person momence

-i could probably go real in depth about neil cicierega/tally hall parallels specifically concerning like. the arc of their musical careers. but i won't, here

-wild how i legitimately don't care much about micheal jackson

-didnt we get a bunch of spirit phone stems from the needlejuice release/his patreon? we could probably hear the funny track he speaks of here in that

-i love hearing musical artists, especially neil cicierega, talking about the meanings of their songs. like, not only has this song been claimed to hell & back by the tumblr gays, but with later ones i just can't see where he gets these ideas from. also, claiming there's any one meaning or plot to a song just seems silly to me

-shoutout to neil reusing a midi from like, 1998, that he made at 12 years old, whose entire melody was reused for the main verses of everybody loves raymond. loved finding that out on my own 2 years ago. now it's common trivia in this fandom. not bad times

-it'd be neat if neil did individual trans tracks here like he did with view monstel, those things are half of why i consider it my favorite album

-it's a lot easier to ignore the creator's intended meaning behind a song when he can't even remember it. thanks neil

-seesaw effect

-and there's my joke all but 1 of my followers wont get. moving on

-what kinds of movie theater lobbies has neil been to where there are arcade machines. i mean im not one to talk but that does sound rather strange

-why do songs' titles even need to be taken from the lyrics. ive never seen that as any sort of requisite. it's like titling any form of prose you can just give it whatever name ya like

-"this part sounds pretty cool right"

-is neil's vocal range only mildly better than mine? with training i could change that

-oh i haven't processed any of the last 25 seconds hold on

-god. a shit ton of vocal modification in this song. it's like neil returned to his roots but with quality this time

-i, as an ace/aro, have never related more to an allohet guy in my life. what is the point of eyes!

-professional humming/whistling takes skill. it's different from the recreational or casual stuff. i'd know

-there's a name for the way sound (especially music) gets distorted when moving past you and i can't remember it but it's probably what neil's referring to here in the way he recorded the intro

(- update: it's the doppler effect no need to tell me cas already did)

-as someone who hasnt seen the rugrats or take me there by blackstreet i'll just say it sounded like a bouncy music box melody. nice to hear a song that messes with the typical scales though. lydian & diatonic.

-that's a rather specific thing to be glad about, but given what he talked about in his last full audio commentary about the jew harp i suppose i'm not surprised

-i know that tmbg song now. listened to it & saw the music video too. yep they're different alright

-where the hell does neil get all these instrumence from anyway

-huh. hadnt heard this part of the commentary before making my oc concerning this song but i like to hear neil's approval concerning part of my interpretation

-i love how ive heard a billion different tellings of this mellified man story from lem dem fans talking about this song and neil's is by far the wildest

-good god that does only make it worse neil

-i love making liveblogs of lemon demon albums. with the fullerenes or tally hall i cant name a specific dude to take out my woes on generally but with lemon demon i can just say neil all the time. i like being on a casual first name basis with this dude ive never interacted with once ever

-is sweet bod the one other than cabinet man with a demo in the bonus tracks? i forget

-holy shit the boston molasses disaster someone call up soapy if it doesnt already know, it'd love this

-two thousand nine. god i miss the fiddle solo. the ver with it is truly the best one

-he pronounces it jeff? i've always read it as gef with a hard g. that's what i get for knowing words that are never spoken aloud

-that's a fun meta interpretation of this ghost story that's over a century old. i like that

-i've noticed neil generally does the same synths across a whole album. it's especially more clear in the earlier ones, and does mean i occasionally mix up songs between clown circus & live from the haunted candle shop

-ah! ancient aliens! my least favorite track on this album. i cant even claim to have the least interest in a popular one i've just generally not liked this one much from the beginning. so im curious to see what neil's got to say, i think ive been in ~new commentary zone for a while now

-anyway. newest update on the loolin not realizing a song's funky time signature front: i think this one's in 6/4. or at least switches a lot between time signatures. granted i dont listen to it very often for the reasons stated above

-see the way neil describes it. eldritch horror upon being visited by the unknown at a time when humanity'd hadn't even yet had a chance to imagine such a thing occurring. should be right up my alley. but the sound itself & many of the lyrics simply turn me away.

-must i specify i don't dislike it? spirit phone is neil's best album it not being my favorite doesn't mean i think it's bad yadda yadda nobody should be surprised by this it's not like anyone in these fandoms reads my liveblogs <3

-granted i think this is. the first bit of spirit phone content i've made on my blog ever. so who knows things can change <3

-the transitions in spirit phone are much less view-monster transition tracks & more extended outros. view-monster's were a bit more intro than outro sure but they also seemed directed upon making a 2-way rather than 1-way bridge between tracks. or something like that

-.............soft fuzzy man is an incredible nickname for a cat. i'd steal that if i werent afraid of introducing my relatives to lemon demon

-jirls

-an underlying metaphor is good enough. the literal side of the lyrics are fun. nothing but agreement here neil my good man

-the transition into as your father i expressly forbid it from soft fuzzy man is the best one in this album

-buddy you ask if a musical idea has been used before odds are the answer is yes in this day & age the question is has it been used in the way you're using it. like sure this soul jazz record from the 60s that was sold out in kansas stores for a week used this bassline that youve found yourself copying. but seeing as youre using it in some angsty garage rock ballad type tune does anybody actually care

-doesn't everybody like to say things in an unhinged manner from time to time

-imagine having a guitar dad, i say, with my dad being a folk accordion/fiddle dad, which is infinitely worse in every way

-i think he was in an actual folk band at some point. idk the 90s were weird

-iron my life?

-m-more intimate? there are a lot of ways i'd describe this song but intimate isn't one of them. granted as your father is negatively intimate so from there i guess you've got nowhere to go but up

-...still glad to see his interpretation kinda supports my oc at least

-the way he says characters in songs shouldn't worry about death really strongly makes me think this is some sort of. thematic continuation of stuck from dinosaurchestra, even if there's no real death in there. interesting. would also mean that the dad from these past 2 songs is named carlos betty (no last name)

-i literally never assumed this was a flute solo. piccolo at best. it's pretty clearly a recorder

-my mom plays the recorder. i wonder if she can play recorder better than neil cicierega

-we can throw a party in honor of the crushing weight of responsibility! i simply won't be the one throwing it because i have enough on my plate already <3

-what the hell does "a sense of intent" mean

-i've never heard rush before however i disagree with neil's understanding of 6/4. 6/4 is meant to have emphasis (onbeat or another term i can't remember) on the 1st & 4th beat of every measure, which is greatly different from a measure of 4/4 then a measure of 2/4. it's why his 5/4 always sounds weird, because while it's recognizable in sequences of 10/4, it's more 2 measures of 4/4 with one of 2/4 tacked on the end. that's also how it's different from 3/4. i don't know much music theory but what i do understand i will fight to the death about

-"canonized" that's. a very interesting term to use when referring to a former president

-from now on i will interpret every love song directed at some unseen "you" to be inviting me to marry them for tax purposes. thanks neil for being an aromantic icon

-ah hell yes hell yes man-made object is my favorite goddam song on this album

-short & sweet & good damn vibes. neil's thoughts on it all are only making it better

-wild how he uses very few vocal effects for a song that he clearly is straining his vocal range for. go off neil

-the qualifier of man-made is a wonderful thing. oldest or biggest thing? oldest or biggest man-made thing? what a incredibly important specification. a world of possibilities lie between the two. oh i love it

-just gets me thinking yknow! what we consider weird/impressive in another species, in our own species- what kind of equivalent to that would there be from an outsider looking in? are there alien versions of the significances we place upon things, that we could never imagine? the limits of the human imagination mean we could never conceive of something else in the world that isn't, in some way great or small, just like us- and are we wrong for thinking that? such a juicy topic i wish there were a name for it because it's kinda hard to explain concisely

-spiral of ants. my second favorite song from this album, in fact. a good one to experience

-the vocals are just another instrument. they really truly are. i wasn't going into this commentary expecting to feel solidarity for neil cicierega in this chili's tonight on more than one occasion but here i am.

-like, his whole stance on interpreting songs is something i agree with almost entirely. you can take it at face value, you can dig to their very depths, you can listen to songs without caring what the lyrics mean whatsoever, and those are all fun. & yeah while any of these people can be annoying as one of the types who enjoys gliding on the surface more than anything i find those who dedicate themselves to figuring out the whole meaning of a song over anything else to be both slightly scary & slightly annoying <3 keep up the good work

-i want to make songs for my siblings the way neil makes songs for his sibling(s)

-spinch

-neil really shouldn't be allowed to be this funny like this whole album youre thinking golly! he's just a normal man this neil cicierega! and then he starts listing the cat hacks jokes & you remember he's had ridiculously consistent viral success with all his humorous endeavors and holy shit it's neil cicierega in action talking about his music. god bless you neil

-you're welcome, no problem, my pleasure. good eveternoon, radio audience!

[skiller0dani]

The Tavern Lady | King Henry V

M A S T E R L I S T

angsty smut requests info wanna be on my Timmy taglist? click here

The Boar’s Head Inn was bustling with noisy patrons, and the gleeful bellows of drunk men with their tankards in hand. Hooper was standing near the wooden bar, a sullen and sour expression crossing her face when Falstaff enters the bar. You say nothing as you continue to wipe down tables and ignore less than gentlemanly comments from the drunk men with red faces. Falstaff approaches you keeping his eyes away from Hooper, “you haven’t seen the young Prince this evening have you?” He asks and you think back to the last time you saw Prince Henry of Wales. “No m’lord. Saw him last 2 evenings ago with Arianna.” You tell him, continuing with your work. Hooper places her hands her hips as she eyes Falstaff, who releases a breath and a polite smile. He exits the Tavern as quickly as he entered it, the atmosphere not having been affected by his presence. 

“Never pays me what’s due. Lost the wayward Prince again has he?” Hooper asks as she approaches from behind you, a hint of agitation in her tone.

“It would seem so, must be a difficult task that. Our wayward Prince is not that of a princely fellow.” You comment with a smile and Hooper grins with a snort of laughter before returning to the bar. 

The remainder of the evening is uneventful, save for the few men who paid you a hefty sum to fulfill your role as the ‘Tavern Lady’. Really it’s a more commonly polite term for a prostitute, you do what you need to for money. Once the last large man throws down a handful of golden coins on the table you straighten the bed sheets before returning downstairs. “Last man gone yet?” Hooper asks as she wipes out the tankards. 

“Left but a few minutes prior.” You inform her, helping gather dirty tankards scattered around the Tavern. Hearing a thump coming from the second floor of the Tavern you excuse yourself to shoo the last man from the bedrooms. If he need stay here, he must pay the same dues everyone else must. Turning the corner to a closed door you rap your fist against the wood. “Need a room, speak to Hooper! If you haven’t the money, then sleep with the pigs!” You shout angrily, this isn’t uncommon knowledge. You can’t just sleep in places for free, everywhere would be bankrupt of money if nothing was offered for money. When the door opens, your eyes widen in embarrassment and fear at the sight of Prince Henry. You immediately curtsy, keeping your eyes focused on the wooden floor boards in front of you.

“Sincerest apologies my liege. I knew not who laid in these bed chambers.” You apologize with a stutter, as your legs begin to tremble underneath you. Prince Henry was a good looking man, long dark curls framing the sides of his face and the speckles of green, and hazel in his eyes. “Stop,” he breathes, rubbing a hand over his face as he wobbles from foot to foot. He’s drunk. 

You immediately rise and take a step away from him, clasping your hands in front of your body. “We are in a Tavern, and not the palace yes? Why do you stand so idly by as one of the maids would?” Henry asks, his shoulder hitting the frame of the door. Your throat feels dry at the question and for a moment you know not how to answer. “You are of noble blood my liege, I am but a lowly Tavern Lady.” You answer, a shameful blush searing across your face at the admission of your line of work to the Prince. 

“My blood was bred from that of a lion.” Henry says sharply, clearly his relationship is estranged from his Father, King Henry IV. Henry takes you in again, a blank nearly emotionless expression resting upon his features. “My liege, Sir Falstaff was asking after you hours ago.” You inform him quickly, and you see no look of surprise or urgency cross his face. “Walk with me.” He says suddenly, heading to the stairs without waiting for you to agree or disagree. 

Hooper opens her mouth to speak when she sees you heading for the doors of the Tavern, but her mouth snaps shut upon seeing whom you follow out. The roads are all but empty, illuminated only by the soft glow from candles inside homes. “What is your name?” Henry asks, his hollow expression accentuated by the light. You walk along beside him, not caring that your tight and rugged Tavern dress is being mucked with mud. Henry’s pale skin nearly gives him a sickly appearance, but rather to you he looks beautiful in a way. 

“Y/N your highness.” You say quietly, bowing your head to him as a politeness. Henry nods in thought as his hands clasp behind his back. His eyes travel back to the Tavern being left in the distance. “Never have I seen you step foot out of that Tavern into the night long after closing. Is that where you live?” He asks out of mere curiosity. In truth, your Mother died of illness many years prior and your Father you know nothing of. Once your Mother passed, you lost any property to your name and would have died of starvation if Hooper had not taken you in so graciously. 

“Yes my liege, neither of my parents live.” You inform him and his expression pinches slightly as his walking pace slows to a stop. Henry turns to you, an expression you cannot place on his face. “How is it you manage to earn your keep Y/N?” Henry asks, but surely he must know. You’ve already informed him of your status as a Tavern lady, so why then would he ask this? “A-As a Tavern Lady, as I’ve said before my liege. Men pay me handsomely.” You inform him again with a smile and he recoils slightly. His hand reaches up suddenly to slowly brush against your cheek. “Your beauty deserves to be honored in a castle dear Y/N. Not in some muddy Tavern filled with less than desirable men.” Henry says with a scowl upon his face and you blush under the praise from the Prince. 

“It bothers me not my liege. I do not deserve such high words of praise.” You say quickly, bowing your head again to hide the wide smile on your face from Prince Henry. “It would displease me deeply to see you remain in that Tavern this evening, join me.” Henry says, his eyes boring into yours and you see nothing but seriousness in his gaze. You nod with a smile, “I’d be honored my liege.” He hums in approval and continues walking along the muddy cobblestone streets. Something about you has stricken him so, and he knows not the reason for the deeply unpleasant sensation building in his abdomen at the thought of you pleasing other men. “My liege, will you not meet with Sir Falstaff? He seemed urgent to find you.” You ask boldly as you follow Henry around a corner. Henry hums for a moment, not looking disturbed by your question in the slightest. 

“I don’t think I will. He merely wishes to halt my revelry and drinking.” Henry says and you know better than you question him as you nod with a smile. “Y/N/N!” A booming voice bellows from behind the both of you. When you turn you see a regular of yours stumbling drunkenly, with a bloodied lip. “Good evening Aldwin,” You smile politely and the man stops in front of you. He reaches down to grasp your dress and pull your body close to his as he’s done before. Just as his bloodied and muddy fingers curl around the fabric of your dress a hand is reaching for your arm. “I might ask you to remove your hand from her skirt at once.” Henry demands and Aldwin pales as he quickly releases you and stumbles back at the sight of the Prince. “My Prince! My most sincerest apologies, I merely wished to-” But Henry cut him off before he could finish. 

“Scurry off quickly and hope that next time you might catch me just as forgiving a mood.” Prince Henry snaps and Aldwin is stumbling away quickly, without sparing a second glance at you. Once Aldwin is out of sight, Henry regards you with concern in his emerald irises. “Has he hurt you in any way Y/N?” He asks, his hands coming up to grasp at your arms. Henry’s eyes look you over, “I am unharmed my liege. Aldwin is harmless, I assure you.” You inform him with a smile, but his expression has not yet relaxed. Henry’s eyes fix on a tear in your skirts where Aldwin grasped your dress. “What if I had not been at your side? What might have transpired then?” Henry said sharply, concern pooling deeply in his eyes. You gaze at him with surprise in your eyes, “I do not wander the streets of London in the evenings my liege.” You reassure him, but his eyes now scan the faces of passerby's, regarding them as threats to your safety. 

“Nor will you again.” Henry confirms as he keeps his hand on your lower back when he continues to lead you down the street. “Your highness, I am not injured I assure you...” You trail off but Henry merely shakes his head as you stop in front of a building. Pushing through the doors you follow him through the halls and up the stairs to a bedroom. “You may have been were I not there to put a stop to his advancements.” Henry hisses, a clear distress in his voice as he closes the door behind you. He turns to regard you again, “have you the strength to stop him? If you wished not to be touched would have he obeyed your commands?” He asks, crossing his arms and you fall silent. While Aldwin may have never laid a hand on you, that does not mean he would not continue with his advancements regardless if you wanted him to or not.  

“From this evening and onward, you shall accompany me here. That Tavern is not a fitting place for a lady such as you.” Henry says at last, his mind having been made up. Your cheeks redden in blush for what seems to be the hundredth time this pale evening. “Of course my liege.” You agree in an instant, your heart fluttering at the level of his concern for your well-being. “I will not, of course, bring you here against your wishes. You may accompany me if that’s what you desire to do.” Henry said after a moment, his eyes momentarily meeting yours. You smile as you admire the side of his face, the delicate bone structure making him appear younger in years than he is truly. “I desire to join you here my liege.” You inform him softly and are pleased upon the small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

Henry sits on the bed sitting in the center of the room, a sigh pulling from his lips. You move to stand in front of him, “why my liege, have you asked me here?” You ask him, your eyes darkening as you gaze down at him. A smile plays at his lips and his hands run down your sides. “I find myself interested in your work as a Tavern Lady. Perhaps I wish you only to be a lady of that sort for myself only.” He says with a cocked eyebrow and a deep feeling of joy jolts through you at his words. “I would be happy to oblige my liege, and you need not pay me a single coin.” You whisper, your voice growing quieter as he leans up into you. Henry’s eyes spark in interest as he gazes up at you, his expression resembling that of a lion stalking it’s prey. “I must repay you in some manner.” Henry whispers huskily as you pull your dress up to straddle his waist. Your hands grasp his shoulders as you gaze into his eyes, “you need not my liege.” You say softly again, and it’s this time that Henry presses forward. His lips meet yours in fervent need and his hands hold you steady at your back. 

Henry lifts you and gently places you on the bed underneath him, “oh I think I do.” He argues, his lips licking and biting at the skin of your collarbones. You wind your hands through his curls as one of Henry’s hands reaches for the dagger secured in his belt. “Perhaps this evening is payment enough your highness.” You breathe, your mind becoming thoroughly fogged by pleasure as his tongue rubs over the deep purple marks littering your neck already. “I think it will take this evening, and many evenings more before you are properly repaid.” Henry whispers against your skin, his words feeling like an unspoken promise. Brandishing his dagger, Henry slices through the front of your dress being careful not to slip and injure you instead. Such a mistake would surely drown him in guilt. “Am I to assume you will replace my dress my liege?” You tease as you look up at him once he tosses his dagger to the side. Henry presses a long kiss to your clavicle, “I shall. With the most beautiful embroidered silks, dresses made only of the finest material.” Henry whispers against the skin of your stomach. 

You sit up momentarily to pull your arms from the sleeves and kick the dress off of at your feet. Henry’s eyes glaze in wanton lust at the sight of your bare skin, “Y/N you truly are a vision.” He compliments, seemingly lost in your naked body as he kneels above you. You have never felt more empowered by your naked body than you do with Henry. “You treat me with the same regard only a princess deserves your highness.” You smile up at him. Henry leans down, both of his hands coming to plant on either side of your head. He gazes down at you, his eyes mapping out every inch of your skin as though he’s never going to see you again. The both of you know, however, that you will be seeing much of each other. “That is but a mere title dear Y/N, it’s what lies in the soul that matters most.” Henry whispers, running his fingertips down below your naval. Goosebumps rise in the wake his fingers take, “so bare your soul to me.” He says as he presses his lips against yours once more. 

Your mouth latches hungrily to his as Henry’s fingers lightly dance along your sides. You reach for the strings securing his trousers around his waist and pull impatiently. Henry swiftly reaches down and undoes the knot, letting the useless fabric of his trousers fall down his waist. He kicks them off the edge of the bed and you immediately reach down to deftly stroke at his hardened cock. Henry presses his forehead against yours as his hands find the sensitive spot between your thighs. He delves his fingers into you, much enjoying the whine that escapes your parted lips. “Never have I felt such a burning desire for anothers skin against mine,” Henry breathes nearly in disbelief at the strong hold you already have over his mind and heart. You run your hands along his back, longing to feel his bare skin. You pull at his shirt and in one swift movement, Henry is tugging it up and over his head. “Nor are you like any other man I’ve had warm my bed my liege.” You moan into his neck as his hand slides over your core. 

“I can assure you, I will be the last man to warm your bed. You will not have another in my stead.” Henry hisses, a certain amount of possessiveness seeping into his tone as he bites at the skin of your bottom lip. “It is only you I desire to warm my bed,” You hum in agreement as you feel him impatiently grasp at his cock. He presses the head into you and smoothly pushes the rest of himself deep inside you. Your arms hold Henry tightly as he rocks into you, groaning softly against your neck. “And what of you my liege? Will you sheathe yourself in another woman in my stead?” You ask breathless as Henry pushes into you faster. His hands grab at your wrists as he presses his forehead against yours once more, a grimace of pleasure strewn on his face. “Would it displease you if I did?” Henry asks, finding it difficult to catch his breath as the coil of pleasure burns hot inside him. You think of it for a moment, the image of him moaning and writhing with another woman in these very sheets. The thought makes you physically nauseous. “Greatly, my liege.” You admit with a grunt as you feel your own warmth seeping through your entire body making you feel alight. 

“Then I shall sheathe myself only in you, you have my word.” Henry promises with a hot kiss to your lips. Your nails bite into his skin, possibly drawing blood but Henry couldn’t be bothered by that now or later. When your back arches, pressing your breasts up into his back Henry watches with lustful eyes as you come underneath him. Feeling himself about to burst he pulls of your inviting warmth and comes in hot spurts on your stomach. Henry does not desire a bastard child, it would only legitimate the claims of him being the ‘wayward Prince’. Your chest heaves as you attempt to calm your heavily beating heart as Henry grasps a cloth and wipes any mess on your stomach. You sit up, reaching for your torn dress to hide some of your bare skin on the journey back to the Tavern. 

“Where, pray tell, are you off to?” Henry asks, an expression of confusion and pain written plainly on his face. You pause, your eyes widening and cheeks darkening in shame. “I only assumed you’d expect me to return to the Tavern my liege.” You say softly, sitting on the plush mattress and wanting more and more to lay down and slumber upon it. Henry’s expression softens as he sits next to you, brushing hair off your forehead. “I greatly desire for you to stay, only if that’s what you wish to do.” He says, apprehension in his tone as he looks into your eyes. You smile as you reach down to take his hand in yours, not a proper action between a royal and a commoner but something tells you he doesn’t mind much for what’s proper. “I do wish to stay with you my liege.” You tell him softly and he smiles then. 

After having blown out all candles in the room he slides into the bed next to you, pulling you to rest on his bare chest. His eyes gaze up into the black oblivion of stars shining above the rooftops. “If the stars could speak of the secrets they’ve seen,” Henry whispers, the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. You hum in delight, the beauty of the words resonating with you. “From which poem was that written my liege?” You whisper through the darkness. Henry wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds you tighter against him. “None, they are my words.” He says quietly and you press your nose into his chest, bathing in the warmth of his skin. 

The weeks pass by in a blur of passion writhing raw in the sheets with the young Prince Henry. It’s a life you never knew you wanted to lead. Henry kept his word and you kept yours. He gave himself to none but you, and in return you did the same. In your heart, you knew deeper more powerful emotions were growing for the lonely Prince. Such thoughts and feelings could not be indulged, for imagining a future with the Prince is a fantasy. You are but a lowly Tavern Lady, and he is the Prince of Wales. Son to the Kind of England. The union between the two of you would cause a spark of unrest in the kingdom, and possible uprisings. For now you enjoyed the secret rendezvous you shared with him in the evenings, the secret affair of lips and skin that was your secret and yours alone. Then came the day where the King Henry IV passed, as had the young Prince set to inherit the throne. Leaving none to ascend to King but the wayward Prince of Wales himself. A secret affair with a wayward Prince affects none but the Prince himself, but a secret affair with the King of England? Eventually Henry would have to marry, to produce an heir. There would be no place for you in his life, such a thought of leaving then breaks you. 

Which leads you to where you are now. It’s hours before the Prince’s coronation and after he will return to gather his belongings and set off to the palace. Surely he expects you to be here waiting to join him, but you can’t. Not this time, for you have no place in a palace with a King. Reaching for your canvas pack you hear the door creak open. “Going somewhere Lady Y/N?” Henry asks, confusion written on his features. You admire the face of the young Prince before it becomes the face of a young King. His beautiful curls will be cut, so you run your fingers through them one last time. “Henry we knew the day would come where our rendezvous would come to an end.” You told him with tears brimming behind your eyes. His eyebrows pinched together as he watched you flutter about the room, gathering any belongings you may need. “Come to the palace with me, as a maid or a cook. We can continue as we were Y/N.” Henry says softly, his voice in a pleading tone. 

You avoid his eyes as tears begin to fall freely down your porcelain cheeks. “You will be a King Henry, and I am nothing but a Tavern Lady. Surely you knew this day would come. Sooner yet the day will come where you will need to marry, to produce a legitimate heir to the throne.” You exclaim, voice wrought with tears as you search for your shoes. Tears now wet his own eyes as he watches you prepare to walk out of the door and with that, out of his life as well. Deeper more passionate emotions stir in his stomach when he thinks of you, surely he cannot become King without you by his side. “I fear I cannot do this without you.” Henry pleads, catching your wrist as you briskly walk past him. Your face mirrors the current state of your heart, ragged and broken. “You must find a way, my love.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before hurrying out the door. Henry stands numbly in the wake of your departure, blinking tears from his eyes as he watches you go. 

You hear nothing from Henry in the weeks that follow. Hooper ever-so-graciously allowed you to resume a position at the Tavern. You could not however bring yourself to resume your role as a Tavern Lady- you did make a promise after all. The city of London bustled with excitement in the days that followed Henry’s coronation. You missed him with every beat of your heart, but a lowly commoner like you had no place in the castle among nobles. Not only residing in the castle but bedding the King, Henry was now your King. You must treat him as such no matter how that may break your heart so. You tried to stay focused on the work that needed to be done at the Tavern but every patron to enter spoke of the new King. You could not escape him, nor could you escape the breaking of your heart. You wished you’d been born a woman he could rightfully marry, but you weren’t and you’re not. There’s nothing that can be done to change that, no point on dwelling on the lost possibility. He would soon belong to another, a Princess who will be Queen. She should feel honored to have him. 

The sun had set far below the horizon when you took to the streets of London for a late night walk. You remembered Henry’s promise to never let you walk the streets alone again and yet here you are. His promises were folly, but did not lack the sincerity he meant behind them. Not a man had pursued you as a Tavern Lady, for everyone on Eastcheap knew of your frolicking with the King. That did not seem to halt Aldwin in his course as he continually pursued you, and you continually turned him down. Nor did it give him reason to pause as he approached you on those cobblestone streets as you walked. “A fair evening for a fair lady.” He compliments, the wrinkles by his eyes pinching together as he smiles. You smile politely at him, you’re far too kind to tell him you wished to be left to your thoughts. You doubt, however, that he’d leave you even if you’d asked him too. Perhaps Henry was right to worry about him. 

“Good Evening Aldwin.” You keep your eyes to your feet as you stroll past the house you used to meet Henry for the 10th time this same evening. “You long for him again, the King?” Aldwin asks and you snap your gaze towards him, your cheeks flaming a deep crimson. “Such an impolite and forward question to ask a lady Aldwin.” You snap, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. Aldwin simply bellows out a laugh in response to your heated words. “Wouldn’t ruffle your feathers so if the words didn’t ring true.” He comments and you halt where your feet are, coming to a sudden stop. 

“Who I do and do not long for is no concern of yours Aldwin. I shall, however, indulge you in the knowledge of knowing I have never longed for you.” You spat at him, turning on your heel to march back to the Tavern. You feel a tight grasp on your upper arm as you’re pulled against the brick wall of an abandoned home. “Where’s your wayward Prince now Y/N? Don’t think he’ll be coming to your aid this evening or the next fortnight.” Aldwin smiles, his dirty hands reaching for any inch of bare skin he can find. Tears push hastily at the backs of your eyes and you squeeze them shut coming to the conclusion that Henry was indeed right to worry about Aldwin. 

After the evening in London, you took no more walks in the starlight. You remained in the Tavern, residing up to your room once most of the patrons had cleared out. Bruises flowered along your hips and neck from where Aldwin held you against the wall as he forcefully pushed into you over and over. You release a pained breath as you lay back against the bed, your thoughts once again drifting to the King. You missed the warmth of his skin, his honeyed words, the way his lips felt against yours. Reaching to blow out a candle you hear a soft knocking upon the wood of your door. Drawing yourself out of bed and towards the entrance to your bed chambers you open the door to see a royal guard. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, “Lady Y/N? The King is here to see you.” He informs you with a nod of his head. He steps to the side revealing Henry, his eyes gleaming as they lay upon you. 

You open your door to allow him into your room, and gently swing the door shut after him. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as he stands before you, a hooded cloak concealing his face. He lowers his hood and smiles fondly down at you before taking you into his arms then. “M-My King,” You stammer, struggling to fight the onslaught of tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks. “W-Why have you come to see me my King?” You ask him, fighting back the immense joy you feel in your heart upon seeing him stand before you again. “I have come to plead you once more to join me in the castle.” Henry pleads, taking your hands and your eyes flutter as tears blink out of them. You attempt to pull your hands free from his but he holds them tighter. “My dear Y/N, I am to set off to war in less than a month. Let me spend these next few weeks with you.” Henry pleads, his eyes begging as they look into yours. 

War? The word brings unspeakable pain to your heart, the thought of Henry going to war sends you spiraling into a deep embedded panic. “They could be my last, my love.” Henry says finally and the tidal wave of emotion pours over you as you throw yourself into his arms. Henry hold you tightly to him, as he whispers reassuring words into your hair, words promising he’ll do everything he can to return home to you. Brushing his hands through your hair to soothe you, the marks he sees laid upon your neck are enough to push you back from him. “On your neck, you’ve bedded another!” Henry exclaims, the betrayal and pain written clearly on his face. Your hand flies up to the marks Aldwin left on you as you reach out for him, “Aldwin offered no choice as you said he would. He took from me what he desired in the streets of London. My protests fell on deft ears.” You explained with tears pooling in your eyes. A new rage embeds in Henry’s chest as he takes you back into his arms then. 

Ushering you out of the Tavern, Henry keeps you by his side as he pulls his hood to cover his face again. You figure the hood is in vain, as Henry is surrounded by palace guards which in a way give away his position. But to an uneducated commoner Henry could be mistaken as a mere noble, and not taken for the King. 

“Bring me Aldwin the Shopkeeper.” Henry snapped once you’d arrived safely within the walls of the palace. He did not pause for an introduction as to who you were as he lead you through the halls and to his bed chambers. Henry pushes the door closed, anger evident on his features. “You never should have remained on Eastcheap, if I had insisted you accompany me to the palace Aldwin would never have laid unwanted hands on you.” Henry seethed more to himself than to you. He turned to you hastily then, “undress. Let me see what other devilish marks he marred upon your skin.” He snapped and you knew protesting would only anger him further. 

Once your dress had fallen to the floor, Henry’s eyes winced upon seeing the bruises covering your body. The worst of the bruises were along your upper thighs and hips. Henry dropped to his knees in front of you, grasping your hips in his hands as his eyes observed the bruises covering your skin with tears in his eyes. Henry pressed a soft kiss to each purple bruise, before resting his head against the soft skin below your naval. You brushed your fingers through his shorter unruly hair, that still somehow managed to suit him as well as the long untamed curls did. “They hurt not this evening, they heal with each passing day Henry.” You whisper to reassure him. Your words do little to soothe the boiling rage building inside him. 

A knocking at the door drew Henry to his feet. “Your Highness we have brought Aldwin as requested.” The guard says from outside the door and Henry helps you back into your dress before opening the door. Henry turns to you, “stay here. I shall return shortly.” He instructs and you nod watching as the door closes behind him. Henry turns to the guard, “put him in chains at once.” He snaps and the guard nods before hurrying off ahead of Henry. 

“What crime did he commit my liege?” A guard asks boldly, earning a sharp glare from Henry. He dares not speak again. When Henry enters the throne room he’s pleased to see Aldwin in chains and on his knees before the throne. Henry sits upon the throne and waves his hands, “leave us.” He snaps and in an instant all but the two guards standing either side Aldwin exit the throne room. Aldwin’s eyes are wide in fear as he keeps his gaze firmly on the stone floors of the palace. “Aldwin you are being charged with sexual violence, and sentenced to death.” Henry says calmly, but the boiling rage is evident in his eyes. Aldwin gasps in shock as the guards lift him from his knees and drag him out of the room screaming. 

When Henry returns to his bed chambers, you are waiting on his bed. He kneels in front of you, and takes your hands in his. “Aldwin will be an issue no longer my love.” He reassures you with a kiss to your forehead. Tears are in your eyes as you gaze into his own emerald eyes, and concern wears itself plain on his features. “I assure you he will be an issue no longer.” Henry says again but you shake your head as your hands grasp at his shoulders. “War, Henry. You go to lands you know not to fight men who could grasp the sword that pierces your heart.” You whisper, the fear overtaking every one of your thoughts. Henry takes your hands and gently lays you back on the bed, his body hovering above yours. “It is my duty as King to face such blatant disrespect as a regard to War. I must face the French and prove to them the strength of England.” Henry whispers, lovingly brushing hair from your eyes. 

“I do not question the reasoning, I merely question whether your promise to return to me will be honored. I fear for you,” You gasp, beginning to feel the emotion overwhelm you again. Henry presses a gentle kiss to your lips as his hand finds and cradles the side of your face. “I will not make false promises to you, I know not if I will return. I only can hope those battlefields will not be my resting place. Let us be in each others arms these coming weeks, let me feel the strength of your love before I am to leave.” Henry says in a soothing voice and you nod immediately, bringing his lips down to yours then. Henry hovers above you once more, watching with eyes alight as you slide out of your dress again. Unlike your secret affair with the wayward Prince, you do not have the luxury of taking your time at this hour of the day. Only in the evenings when the King is free of his responsibilities do you have the luxury of basking in each others loving embrace. 

Your fingers reach for the lace of his trousers, quickly undoing the knots you push the fabric down far enough to release his cock. Henry slides a finger over your core to ensure you are prepared enough for him. Deeming you to be slick enough he presses his head past your folds, feeling the tight expanse of your opening stretch around him. “Your welcoming and velvety embrace proves you have not bedded another,” Henry groans as he slides fully inside you. You press a kiss to his shoulder as you grasp onto him tightly. “Did you doubt me?” You tease and before more words of a teasing nature can escape your lips Henry pulls his hips back before snapping into you again. You hold tightly to him as he rocks into you again and again, softly and more gently than you were expecting. “I realized not how deeply I missed the weight of your body on mine.” You moan softly and his arms come to wind around you and pull you close to his chest. 

Resting his forehead against yours, you allow yourself to believe you are in that small room on Eastcheap instead of inside the palace walls weeks before his departure to war. You cry out softly against his skin as he slides into you with such tender love and care it nearly causes the rippling emotion to rise up inside you and swallow you whole. You feel your body burning with pleasure as you erupt, feeling the hot searing pleasure coursing through every muscle. Feeling you tighten around his most sensitive appendage, Henry swiftly slides out of you and comes across your stomach as you’d done many times before. “I am very much in love with you Y/N,” Henry admits as he stays hovering over you panting. You blush as you gaze up into his eyes, “when I return I shall make you a noble and marry you.” He informs you with a tender smile. 

“But how? I am but a mere commoner, born of no significance.” You protest as Henry reaches for a piece of cloth, “I shall think of something in my weeks across the sea.” Henry says after pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “My liege, I am wholly in love with you,” You whisper to him, sitting up to press yourself into his chest. You carefully trace the lines of a new scar across the left side of his face, and you gaze longingly up into his eyes. 

“My dear Y/N, I am yours and you are mine.” Henry promises, sealing it with a kiss upon your lips. 

[luminashdawnwing]

Trading Favors (Part IV)

Part I, II, III

(Note: The story thus far takes place between the opening of Revendreth and the end of the leveling story)

Luminash had ample time to take in the rugged - he could not call it beauty necessarily, though it had its grandeur nonetheless - crags and valleys of the Ember Ward while he waited on the Sinfall overlook. His companions, Nelyne and Grigori, had gone below with the chest of sinstones they had pilfered from the house of Lord Bloodwatch. Evidently, he was not permitted entry just yet, something about the Prince - word was that he had only recently been snatched back to safety from the Maw itself! - and his favored preparing some great endeavor.

The Light that beat down upon the land and all who dwelled there felt, in its essence, the same as that of the Sunwell. A sense of warmth, yes, but there was something else: a distinct sense of wrath, of righteous indignation that made what should have offered hope and solace an oppressive burden, even to the magister himself. He found himself squinting, blinded not only by the Light, but by its reflection off the bleached, dusty canyons below.

Sinfall, in comparison, was positively dreary, at least what he had seen of it. The Ember Court had no doubt been impressive once, but it was now merely a ruin, crumbled and nearly forgotten. Only a few lingering Venthyr measured their steps among the ruins, shaded by their ornate black parasols. They moved quickly and with purpose, clearly none too eager to be in this Light-blasted place.

He was broken from his reflection on his surroundings by the crunching of footsteps behind him. It was a curious mixture of boots on cobblestone and the grinding of soles on coarse pebbles, the Light-scorched soil blown all about by the winds of the valley and gathering even here.

“Follow, magister,” came Grigori’s voice, an aristocratic tone spoken much through the nose, “That is what you said you were on our way here, no?” He did not wait for a response, knowing full well his question scarcely required one, “Nelyne is still below with the Prince. All will be departing soon, but before that, we may have information you might find useful for your…” The Venthyr waved his hand vaguely, a gesture Luminash himself chuckled at, so commonly did he do the same, “Ah, trading deal with the Brokers.”

Turning and falling in behind Grigori, Luminash raised a brow, curiosity piqued, “And what might this information be? If you have a decent idea on how to both obtain a Maldraxxi phylactery and the wing of an Ascended of all things without finding myself tossed into the Maw, please, do share.”

Grigori turned over his shoulder to look sidelong at the elf trailing him as he spoke, cool and calm, “I can, in fact, share that information. You have come to the Shadowlands at quite an eventful time. The word is from Oribos that Maldraxxus and Bastion are at war of all things! Though I am unsure how accurate this statement is. Some of those visiting the Eternal City seem intent on little more than sightseeing.” The Venthyr cleared his throat, “Regardless, the Houses are at odds, with the Houses of Constructs and Rituals making some sort of alliance. Gossip is that one has made away with the bodies of many fallen Ascended, the other… Well, I need not spell it out.” He narrowed his eyes, their golden glow reduced to a thin line, “Or so I hope.”

As the magister listened, he grew visibly more relieved, “So a trip to Maldraxxus is in order.”

“It would seem so. Then, however, it would be...pleasing to us,” Grigori added, his voice dripping in thinly-veiled sarcasm, “If you were to return and join us here. Though the Prince and his loyal Harvesters will be away, the Accuser has a request of you.��

The magister followed Grigori down a series of stone-hewn, unspeakably ancient steps, down away from the Light that beat down much as the sun at summer’s height. The air here was blessedly cool.

“I should specify, for the...uninitiated.” Grigori permitted himself a brief bark of laughter, “The Accuser is Prince Renathal’s right hand, the Harvester of Pride. She wrings the souls of our charges dry of their hubris and redeems them.” A pause, “Or they are torn apart, or cast into the Maw, unrepentant, but this is - was - rare. Now?”

“They are yet more fuel for the fires of the Maw, aren’t they?”

The Venthyr nodded, “Just so. They are cast in without a fair chance to save themselves, to change. That is who we are, magister, we are the changed.” He held out his left hand, as if feeling the weight of something, “Crushed under our crimes, our selfishness, we are brought here.” His right hand now, giving him much the appearance of a scale, “In the end, we are cleansed, freed from the burdens of our past - do not tell those insufferably smug Kyrian a Venthyr said such a thing! - and serve in our way, here or elsewhere.”

“The Accuser, then, has need of these souls. I think I know where you are going with this, Grigori.”

“Indeed.” The Venthyr stopped at a curtained alcove in the crypt-like hall winding down into Sinfall’s depths and waited for Luminash to arrive before drawing back the curtain and ushering him inside, “And we believe that the item you aim to procure from the Brokers may help us find them again - them, and perhaps a few of these as well.” Within the alcove was the chest of sinstones recovered from the Bloodwatch estate. It appeared to be emptier than before, many of the fragments having been removed, it seemed.

“The true names of your resistance, have I remembered correctly?” Luminash slid into the room, followed by Grigori, who let the curtain fall behind them.

“These? No. Those we have already removed and hidden for ourselves. These are names unknown to any of us here in Sinfall. Which begs the question of whose, precisely, they are. Given Ivan’s desire to weed out traitors to our fool of a Master,” Grigori positively sneered as that title left his lips, his eyes just short of a derisive roll, “We’ve our suspicions.”

Luminash rested a hand on the lip of the chest, head canted as his eyes skimmed over the sinstones, their names, and especially - with a morbid curiosity - their crimes. A multitude of crimes, lifetimes upon lifetimes of hubris, “Who are they?”

“The way the Accuser sees it, and I see no fault with her reasoning, is that they are the Avowed. Those loyal to Revendreth’s heart, our ideals, who continue to cleanse and redeem the souls entrusted to us.” Grigori leaned against the cold stone wall, clawed fingers drumming against it.

“Yet you disagree?”

“I never said that!” The Venthyr snapped, shaking his head, “Ah, no, I do not disagree exactly, only think it might be that - or another possibility - or both, even.” He pursed his lips, “I knew Ivan once, long ago. An arrogant fool, obsessed with his own standing, a perfect image of everything now going wrong with Revendreth. He was never loyal to the Master. He was loyal to himself.”

Luminash’s lips curled into a smirk, “And so he had a bank of blackmail against the Master’s loyalists too, didn’t he? Which may just conveniently give us - or you, I should say; I’ve agreed to nothing of yet - a list.”

“Sinstones are linked inextricably to the soul of those whose crimes they bear, and if your Broker device can follow, as you say, the strands of anima…” Grigori shrugged, eyes following Luminash’s hands as they ran along the damaged sinstones, “Then a list, as you say. You can tell, I do hope, what one might wish to do with either our Avowed allies or our loyalist enemies.”

While they spoke, Luminash felt as if a stone had dropped into his stomach. His eyes had caught a name etched into one of the stones, and the hand that had been so idly running along their broken edges stopped. In barely enough time for the magister to take in what was carved into the stone, with movement so fast he could scarcely react to pull his hand away, the chest was snapped shut, Grigori looming over him. He could not be sure, but Luminash thought he saw a hint of fear in the Venthyr’s eyes.

“Go to Maldraxxus, complete your deal with those charlatans. Then return, if you see fit. Know, though, that what we offer may be the greatest use of your skills, and the broker bauble of yours, that you will find here, hm?” Grigori met Luminash’s eyes, whatever passed for fear replaced once more by a calm, measured gaze.

                                           **************************

In his hand, Luminash turned the relic of the First Ones over, again and again, its delicately carved geometric insets pressing against the magister’s palms. A dagger traded, Cartel Ta’s damage control done, the door was his, yet the key remained. An excursion to Maldraxxus, a delivery to Ba’net in Bastion, and that too would be his. With the proper scrying, it might well be a door directly to all the souls lost in the Nazmir muck, a lifeline, a blessed tether that might bring them if not back to their families, at least to where their proper afterlives.

On the other hand, the Venthyr certainly could use the aid, Luminash knew. Souls in need of redemption lost to the darkness was a worthy cause, especially as the Master’s loyalists bolstered themselves against what passed for resistance at Sinfall.

Or could it even be a more personal obligation? Luminash felt the weight of the stone pressing against his palm, fingers tracing the honeycomb geometry. There had been the matter of that final sinstone and its crimes, its words seen but for a brief moment burned all the same into the magister’s mind:

A researcher whose instruments charted the skies and the stars of the Great Dark, he advanced the cause of his science and all knowledge. Knowledge everywhere is power, and power was his true reward.

Honorable and honest in all his public dealings, his name became a byword among his peers for unwavering character. In private, his unblemished word was replaced with a bloodied dagger, leaving none left to question him.

Dedicated to his family, his keen political mind led his family to the heights of power and prestige. Loyal beyond all else to his Queen and his legacy, in her name he sent his family hurtling from the heights into the abyss.

Scholar; brute.

A man worthy of trust; a knife in the back.

Loving father; traitor.

For his intellect, his virtue, and his service, he deserves redemption. For his avarice, wrath, and pride he has come to us. Let these be washed away and let him be made anew.

Lanestrian Dawnwing.

[chikkou]

Will you talk more about Lisa?? Lisa the character specifically but also your feelings on his feelings about Buddy? I just thought your analysis was so good and I want to hear other thoughts you have on her.

yall are honestly spoiling me rn sdhkfdjfks this is like a dream come true 

i already got into the stuff with buddy in this ask here but i have a LOT to say about lisa and the connection between her and buddy so u better settle in!

ok so firstly ill start with lisa. i played the original lisa game (lisa the first) not long after it first dropped in 2012, and im not even kidding when i said it changed me LMAO.... seeing a story about a girl suffering is nothing new, but austin jorgensens approach to it was so fucking unique. you dont just witness it, you get to EXPERIENCE it right along with her. many stories that involve sexual abuse/rape show or otherwise depict it explicitly for the shock value, which is both disgusting and, in my opinion, extremely fucking exploitative. i feel that it is horrific to dignify an act so deeply evil with screentime. but lisa stood out to me immediately because, even though you know exactly whats going on, the game NEVER shows anything explicit. everything is layered in subtext and symbolism, and austin is fantastic with indirect storytelling, so you learn so much from just a little drop of information. this applies not just to the game proper, but to the character as well.

in case its not clear: i absolutely ADORE lisa. she is my favorite character in all of the games, bar none. its going to sound kind of fucked up, but as a kid around her age going through some fucked up shit, her committing suicide at the end felt like a sort of victory to me. she knew she could never escape from marty or what he was doing to her. he leaks into every single part of her psyche, everything she ever cared about or loved is ruined because of him, and even the vague memory of her mother is completely corrupted, and turned into a muddled version of him. lisa the first also had the added benefit of some religious commentary, as there are crosses all over their home and marty is characterized as an extremely religious man, which i fucking LOVE and wish had come back in the painful, but its an acceptable loss. anyway, lisa committing suicide at the end was an act of defiance against not just marty, but martys god, as suicide is considered a mortal sin in catholicism. lisa knew she’d never be free of marty in life, so she escaped the only way she could; she was defiant to the end.

ive seen people complain that the painful has a bit of a “lost lenore” thing going on, since lisas death seems to fuel the Manpain of both brad and buzzo, but i actually disagree. on the contrary, its just like austin himself said - lisa will never be gone. lisa is ALWAYS there, with brad, and buzzo, and buddy, and marty, and yado, and the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. i dont necessarily think that there is something paranormal going on in the game, but i AM going to say that, unlike other cases of a girl/woman dying for a mans backstory, lisa isnt just a bittersweet memory they can reflect on and then put away when its convenient for them. she is a presence that is felt throughout the entire game. brad sees her more than once, sometimes watching, sometimes reprimanding him. buzzo is clearly haunted by her, as he cries out to her a few times in the joyful. every character who was directly touched by lisa - brad, marty, and buzzo - calls out to lisa as they die. call it their guilt or call it her actions, but in either case, it is clear that lisa just as significant of a character in the painful as she was in the first, even if she cant always be seen. even in a meta-sense, every game in the series - even the joyful, whose protagonist doesnt even know who she is - is named after her. she is at the center of everything that happens in them. 

that actually brings me to buddy, because i find the dynamic between her and lisa fucking fascinating. as i previously mentioned, brad never talked about his past with buddy, and snaps at her for bringing up his adoptive son dusty (rando), so it goes without saying that she definitely doesnt know who lisa is. in spite of that, though, lisa is a fucking massive part of buddys life, and while she may not know the person herself, i think she is aware that when people (and brad especially) look at her, they arent seeing HER. 

i mentioned it in another post, but even though brad takes it upon himself to raise and “protect” buddy, he seems to almost unwittingly recreate lisas appearance, primarily by allowing her hair to grow long even though he knows what a risk that is to her safety. he also treats buddy in a manner thats incredibly similar to how marty treated lisa (sans sexual abuse, of course) - he insults her, does not let her leave the house at all, and forces her to do unsavory things that no one should ever have to do (in buddys case, this means killing at least two innocent people because brad doesnt want a “weak” daughter). the most literal comparison between buddy and lisa is the fact that they are both very young girls being essentially held captive by their father figures, albeit for different reasons, and both long for freedom from their captors. 

theres also the fact that both buddy and lisa have to deal with misogyny and the effects of rape culture firsthand; they both battle against men who feel entitled to do with them whatever they please, and the threat of ongoing sexual abuse looms heavy over both of their heads. neither one can seek help from anyone; the neighbors in brad and lisas town seem complacent at best, if they even know what is happening to lisa at all, and buddys only allies (sans rando) are long dead by the start of the joyful. this is not just a hypothetical or a distant possibility. this is the real, tangible fate that will befall them if they cant somehow secure their safety.

sadly, because lisa wasnt playable in either of the rpgs, we dont know if she was able to fight as brad was, but it is highly probable that she had the innate skill but was never able to learn it (as marty highly discouraged them from learning “their grandfathers karate,” and seemed disgusted whenever brad did so). however, she did have ONE weapon she could make use of, and this is a weapon buddy ends up using, as well - her femininity. she became close to bernard (aka buzzo), made him fall in love with her, and then used him as a last ditch effort to stop martys abuse by having him mutilate her face. im not saying lisa never cared about bernard - in fact, i think she DID really love and care for him - but her own fucked up experiences with “love” meant she really couldnt understand what it was supposed to be like, or that it was wrong to manipulate the people you care about. lisa did very few things wrong - it pretty much just stops at the maiming of the cat and her manipulation of bernard - but she knew that she would never get away from marty without some kind of drastic action being taken, and scarring herself was her last ditch effort before ultimately committing suicide.

buddy ends up taking a somewhat similar tack in the joyful, and like in lisas case, its simultaneously resourceful and horrific. one of buddys key moves in the joyful is to flash the enemy (which the player obviously doesnt see) in order to distract them long enough to get the kill. its fucking horrible and disgusting and makes you feel so dirty, but then, how must buddy feel having to do something like that just to survive? shes just a child, but in a world where almost every man is out to get you, she knows this has to be done to save herself, very much like lisa. unlike in lisas case, though, buddy is successful in securing her safety in this way - lisas effort is for naught, and leads to her committing suicide not very long after. 

in a way, i sort of attribute buddys brutality to lisas omnipresence; all of the men pursuing buddy are just like marty, monsters who would harm a fucking child for their own disgusting ends, and i think that when buzzo said that lisa wouldve loved olathe, what he means is that she would have loved seeing so many horrible men being punished for what theyd done. so in my opinion, buddy carving out a place for herself in olathe by killing all those who would subjugate her seems very much in the mentality lisa would have had. sure, there are some innocents who sadly get roped into it, but that would definitely not be her intention; for example, if buzzo could have practiced amputation without harming a living thing, i dont think lisa would have asked him to practice on the cat. note the LACK of brutality at the beehive and the swamp bar, two of the few peaceful places in the painful and both devoid of predatory men hunting for buddy - lisa has no qualm with any of them. but marty? brad could hardly even get a full sentence out before killing him on the spot. i dont doubt that that has a great deal to do with lisas presence. 

ok i talked for a while LMAO but basically i think that, in a more metatextual sense, lisa and buddys relationship really strikes me as an accurate depiction of generational trauma. of course it was intentional with the more obvious trauma chain (marty to brad to buddy), but the trauma chain of marty to lisa to buddy is rarely ever addressed due to lisa not physically appearing in the painful. however, i believe it may inform buddys actions a great deal more than people realize - after all, buddys experience is unique, but who could understand it better than lisa? who knows that sort of pain, of being alone on an island, the lone woman trapped with a man (or men) who want nothing more than to cause you harm? even without her realizing it, lisa is guiding buddy, encouraging her to take back what is hers no matter the cost, to punish those who would try to take what they want from her. lisa might be dead, but she is a vengeful presence throughout every game, and buddys actions feel like theyre meant not only to save herself, but to avenge lisa, even if she doesnt realize it. at the end of the day, buddy and lisa both get to exact revenge against all the men who have wronged them, and they succeed. they are aggressive, and violent, and selfish, and ANGRY - and they have every fucking right to be. 

[livlepretre]

can you explain your drafting process & how you planned fairytale ending? that fic is huge

absolutely! 

usually, some spark of an idea or a scene will be the first thing that inspires me to write a fic-- in FE’s case, I woke up the morning after The Reckoning aired and immediately wondered, but what if Klaus had actually kidnapped Elena? 

So, with that initial spark in mind, I’ll usually go ahead and write that first bit that initially jumps out at me-- just to get the ball rolling, and to take advantage of that first bright burst of creative energy. In FE’s case, that’s pretty much the first chapter. This is when I’m just focused on setting the mood of things, setting the atmosphere, throwing in little snippets of conversation-- whatever first jumps out at me about an idea, and whatever excites me the most. (In SWBS the first scene I wrote was actually the scene in chapter 9 or 10 when the nurse asks her if she could be pregnant and she’s like, no waayyyyy.) 

Eventually there comes a point where I run out of steam, usually somewhere between 500 and a few thousand words in, and that’s when I turn to outlining. 

I’m one of those people who really can’t write at all without an outline. Like, yes, I can meander for a few thousand words, but I just can’t go forward unless I have an idea of where I’m going. Sometimes that changes-- it’s certainly changed in FE plenty of times-- because the story will go in unexpected directions, but having an idea of where the story is heading is key. 

I’ve discussed my outlining in strenuous detail here, with actual screenshots of my outlines, but basically, I have three levels of outlining: 

1) The overall outline-- this is just a bullet pointed list of the general arc of the fic-- my original idea for FE was pretty simple-- it was literally just a bullet pointed list of where I wanted the relationships to go, and didn’t even really include any of the big plot or action points. That all came later-- which makes sense, because the main thing that motivated me to write and excited me was exploring the relationships. 

Here’s a screenshot of the original outline from like 2011 (I cropped out the last few bullet points because believe it or not they’re still relevant for where I want the fic to go) -- obviously some of the plot points never happened, and it’s just an incredibly loose outline 

2) The next step is to divide the fic into general arcs or parts-- and to figure out what items from the general outline go in which part, and to start fleshing them out. This is when I start thinking about things like: who are the antagonists? what are the big action sequences? what are the big events that will actually shift things? the really exciting scenes that I daydream about while doing the dishes or in the shower or whatever? 

I would say my original idea for FE’s parts were: 

I. The manor stuff with Klaus/Rebekah/Stefan vs. Elena getting very lonely 

II. Elena has her affair with Tyler 

III. The Miscarriage 

IV. The part we’re on now, which I actually refer to in my mind as the Chicago arc, even though we’re not in Chicago hahaha -- but, Elena/Rebekah vs. Klaus/Stefan 

V. The ending 

As I was writing certain things came up-- 

Daggergate occurred to me during the hiatus between chapters 6 & 7 (Tyler was originally slated to die in chapter 41 but I found out he died on the show and I decided I couldn’t kill him, and then I had the idea that if Elena could save him, that could be a major victory for her, and I realized I could sort of invert that scene when Klaus kills Zoe and instead have Elena run and be the one to slay him), which led to the Exile arc, and inserting the miscarriage into that arc. I think the idea that Rebekah would be the one to break Elena out of her exile came to me pretty early on into thinking about that?? Unclear though because it took me like two more years of writing to get that far. 

I impulsively added in the first Nola arc literally at the point when I was publishing it, because I wanted to write about Nola and because Klaus and Elena had become unexpectedly close in the fic (in my original idea I don’t think they ever hook up or kiss and Elena certainly doesn’t fall in love with him-- I’m so glad we got this FE and not my original idea). Oh! And also I wanted to do the gold dagger but at some point I realized that the only feasible way to get a hold of it would be to actually go to Nola so off we went. 

2nd Nola arc was based on a comment asking me about the bloodstone, which made me realize that 1) I really did want to go back to Nola to tie those things up, especially with Marcel and Davina 2) the bloodstone would be a great diversion from that gold dagger, and 3) it had occurred to me at some point that Mikael would be undaggered if this is a 3x05 divergence and I wanted an opportunity to introduce him as a Big Bad for the last part of the fic 

So, the arc outline developed into: 

I. The first manor arc, ending with Elena breaking things off with Stefan (and therefore moving on) 

II. The first Nola arc, ending with Elena creating the bloodstone and attempting to recurse Klaus 

III. The second manor arc, with her affair with Tyler, discovery of Klaus compelling her, rising out of her depression through art, ending with Klaus inevitably calling her back to Nola

IV. The second Nola arc, with bloodstone 2.0, plus the Abattoir battle with Mikael and Team Mystic Falls, plus Daggergate (I’m sorry I’m probably never going to top this...) 

V. The Exile-- the miscarriage, the years in solitude, and the slow rise from the depths-- ending first with Rebekah coming for her, and secondly with Mikael and burning the mansion down and daggering him 

VI. What I think of as the Chicago arc, but could easily be the Coven arc or the Family Four arc or whatever... this whole weird false detente we’re in 

VII. The Rest of the Story 

This is also the point in outlining, when I’m developing the next arc, where I like to write a list of all of the characters, and write a little blurb about what their motives are. It’s really helpful for me to come up with what’s going to happen if I have a really clear idea of what everyone’s goals are-- so, for example, in the 2nd Nola arc, it was something like: 

Klaus wants to free the loup garous from the curse and turn them, and he wants Elena (and maybe to recruit Davina to him) 

Marcel wants to reobtain the bloodstone with Elena’s help, and use it to finish the spell to rebind Klaus’s werewolf side and ultimately kick him out of New Orleans

Stefan wants to protect Elena from the scheming, and potentially run away with her if necessary to get her free of it all 

etc. 

This is especially helpful because it can point out where the conflict-- and therefore the interest-- is going to come from in the story. If I notice too many people are in agreement on their goals, I think about who might actually disagree with the others, and what their reasons are for doing that. This is a big help, and whenever I feel stuck writing, it’s usually because I haven’t clarified to myself well enough what everyone’s goals are. (You can imagine that this is a huge mess right now with all of my notes on what Elijah wants and Klaus wants and Rebekah wants and etc and etc heading into FE 59!) 

3) Finally, after the arcs are sort of outlined, THAT’S when I draft the actual chapters, chapter by chapter-- I literally go through and write “Chapter 59″ and then put a bunch of bullet points under it with what I want to happen in the chapter, as well as all the other chapters in the arc-- all the while, knowing things will get added or shifted or deleted, as things occur to me or as things move away from the direction I expected. I often assign a color to each chapter outline so I don’t get confused. 

The advantage of writing a story like FE is that it’s serially published-- I can think about things and brainstorm as I’m going, and if I’m daydreaming sufficiently far ahead, I can feather things in early-- like, all the stuff about the dagger was planted like in chapters 22-24, or the stuff about Elena having a history of missing her periods was because I knew she would miscarry without having realized she was pregnant. 

Also, I reread the story once or twice a year and take notes every time I do it. A lot of times there will be totally random lines that I just wrote for atmosphere or whatever that can be construed as foreshadowing if I add something in later-- I honestly can’t remember at this point whether or not I had already decided to have Elena burn down the manor when I wrote the scene during the 2nd manor arc when Tyler warns Elena about catching the house on fire-- maybe I had, but I definitely latched onto that later when I made that decision to go ahead and do it (or it’s possible that that line actually gave me the idea?). I’m a very slow reader so this is usually a fairly painful process for me, as I’m always impatient to actually write, but since the project has taken me so long, I feel this is a really important aspect-- just, becoming intimately familiar with what I’ve said, and what the exact emotional arcs are, taking notes on who knows what, and looking through the old writing with fresh eyes/my mind focused on where I’m going now to see if I unintentionally said something that could build on what I want to write about going forward. 

I guess my last note is that if you can, it’s good to let your stories marinate. Like, yes, work on them when you get that ZOOM rushing creative energy and excitement that lights a fire under you... but if you don’t have it right away... that’s okay. Daydream about your work. Flesh the story out in your mind. 

I ran out of steam on FE like three hours into working on it back in 2011, and I somehow knew myself well enough to know that I didn’t have the attention span or the ability to juggle 2 wips at once. So, naïve college student that I was, I decided I would finish After the Fire, But Before the Flood and then focus on FE. I ended up having a lot of RL stuff for years and years taking the bulk of my attention, and it took me years to write and publish the last couple of chapters of ATFBBTF, and then I only ended up publishing FE because a fandom friend kept asking about it, and that finally encouraged me enough to dust off my notes and work on it again in March 2016. But the thing is, during all that time I wasn’t working on it, I was daydreaming about it. I was building this whole story and thinking about all of the wild arcs I wanted to include and letting it flourish in my thoughts... so it was ready to go when I had the time and the chance to work on it again. 

And it’s grown a ton since then, and become a much richer and fuller story than I ever thought I could possibly write, and a lot of that is just realizing that stories take time. I’ve been lucky to work on this serially and be able to continuously build on what I have and try to always think about how I can incorporate the happy accidents of the early writing into current writing decisions. And also lucky that I’m relatively slow to update, so ideas often occur to me years before I’m able to get to them so I can start hinting at them relatively early. But, a lot of that really is just happy accidents and taking my time. So, one of my main pieces of advice is to take advantage of the fact that fic inherently gives you an indefinite window of time to build the story. 

I hope this has been helpful to anyone interested in writing a long fic. I’ve had no idea what I was doing most of the time, but it’s been a great deal of fun.