#But because of love from the present- love from now they became more than flames-

[mako-neexu]

Id chapter is insane. im so stressed even after more than 2 months of its release. because the Class who won for the entirety of Ordeal Call (dare i say it: the entirety of FGO?) so far are the Avengers. (so far... at least for me..lets hope ruler and foreiner OCs are good...also idk read my og tags for this)

its probably just me overthinking... i dont know if sakurai thought this far but its just so good. because... like. the current arc's focus is on the Classes and the recent main story focused on Avengers.

Avengers. heroic spirits. Extra Class. Those who speak of hate yet are born from love and those who speak love yet are born from hate. The basis of each and all of the heroic spirits in the Throne are simply because they are all records. They are spirits and shadows of those who have lived long ago and those are currently living somewhere or those who have still yet to live and are from the future. Either way, anyone summoned from the Throne is what makes them a Servant. A copy of the real thing. Beings made of ether, ghosts who are a set of records and memories given form.

Avengers are the very embodiment of holding onto the past. Oblivion Correction, being able to remember even beyond time loops or universes could be considered more of a curse than a blessing for these flames whose lives burn endlessly from hate and anger and sorrow from towards those who have wronged them. Flames who would burn endlessly and would stop at nothing even should their retribution be at the cost proper human history's ashes.

Records. Human and beast shaped memories given form. They are beings of stagnacy and cannot grow well past beyond their current state. As only those who are currently living have the privilege of being the only ones to grow. Do you understand me? Do you understand what I'm getting at?

Avengers are more records and fragments of themselves - Alters, Innocent Monsters, collective will of hatred from many people condensed into one - beyond any Class of the Throne. As such they cannot grow. They will never grow for they will remain as flames and inhuman creatures that will ultimately consume and burn all that is within their sights.

And yet, the very Avenger considered to be the greatest, to be the representative and leader of the group was able to transcend the impossible.

Only the living have that right to escape their impending deaths, their doom, their fate. Servants, nothing more than familiars, don't have that right anymore. Not anymore as they don't truly exist in the present.

And yet. And yet.

The Count of Monte Cristo claws an eye out, splits his skull open, rips an entire arm out, bleeds himself dry to change himself. Change himself down to his very core and almost every aspect of him, all for the sake of one person alone.

He was able to take a step forward. An extreme impossibility in and of itself to these burning spirits who are broken records incarnate.

Just one step. Look away from the past without discarding it, still carrying it close, still remaining who he is and yet his sights are on the night sky above, to that star twinkling so gently, so brightly ahead of him that there is no helping that feeling of breathlessness he feels.

Far different from choking on smoke, far different from drowning beneath the icy waves of a prison tower by the sea.

To that person who is his fate, who is his star, his light, and fire in this second life, they extend a hand out to him with a dazzling smile.

Oh.

The Count of Monte Cristo, far beyond salvation and absolution, must think, This in itself is poison. This in itself is ambrosia given form.

With a hand, a resolute gaze telling him he isn't alone, Edmond Dantes, King of the Cavern, the Count of Monte Cristo was able to move forward, change himself and turn into a flame that would pave the way for that star which seeks its own wishes to be fulfilled. To that partner, co-conspirator, accomplice who always walked forward and never wavered in wanting to fight by his side, the Avengers won here and now.

Because to be loved is to be changed.

And being able to change, find yourself capable of it, there is growth. And in growth, for these heroic spirits, ghosts, those who have long passed...

What is that, if not, victory to all of the Avengers themselves?

[talenlee]

Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[girl4music]

“What I have heard is that it’ll be more truthful in the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle in that it will show who they are and their love for each other in a new way. All I can hope for is that it keeps the layers to the characters as rich as they were with the original show in that it’s not just that they’re partners, it’s that they are everything to each other.” — Renee O’Connor about how she hoped the thankfully now scrapped Xena reboot went in how the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle would be written and portrayed.

I love so much the way the roles reversed in that as Xena becomes softer, Gabrielle becomes harder because we know it only happens in this way because of how ride or die they are with and for each other. That the depth. intensity and authenticity of the connection, relationship and friendship that they had was so immense that it influenced their personalities and changed each other emotionally and they became each other in the end as my character study thesis goes into great detail with explaining because they are one soul in two bodies for eternity. Which isn’t merely just soulmates but also twin flames in that they constantly navigate this match and mirror dynamic throughout all of their soul’s life experiences almost as if there’s an eternal dance between them where they keep shifting from the lead partner to the follower partner and there is always that equilibrium where they are just perfectly balanced as one nature and you just don’t get that in just any romantic ship. You might get a soulmate connection but you won’t get the characters irrevocably changing and evolving as individual people and as a couple because of that connection because love stories just aren’t that EPIC in TV art/entertainment. They’ll never be as profound as the one between Xena and Gabrielle where they truly were - as Renee said - everything to each other.

I think about how in the episode ‘Little Problems’ Aphrodite temporarily puts Xena’s soul essence into the little girl Daphne so that she would have a second chance at life. I’m just thinking about how that was essentially 3 individual soul essence’s in just one little girl’s physical body. That of Xena, Eve and Daphne.

As insane as the idea of that sounds in my INTP head, the plausibility of it in the Xenaverse isn’t because they do this more than once across both shows. Twice in Xena. The first time Ares is responsible (Succession) and the second time Aphrodite is responsible. And maybe the idea does require some divine intervention.

So the question is - based on my interpretation and conclusion of my thesis - who does it the third time?Who is responsible for returning them to their roots as a nondual entity? As the fundamental Yin and Yang? Because if an idea like this is ever-present in the Xenaverse as a thematic narrative in soul hopping, body swapping, reincarnation, and an exploration of AU, then what’s stopping that from being an ending?

It might be an insane idea in any other fantasy TV show - but in Xena, it’s a pretty common storyline. Temporarily, sure, but very possible as an endgame. The more I watch the show and the more I delve into the nuances and intricacies of its characters and themes and narratives, I am reminded over and over again just how much this idea makes sense because they do effectively set it up to work out that way in that Xena and Gabrielle disappear into each other.

And it’s like - okay, so they’re now just going to be one human being. One person with two legs and one head. Now what? Where does their story go on from there? Well, it can go anywhere forever. It’s like what Steven L. Sears said: They’re between the lines of the Mehndi. The body or physical manifestation of it is temporary, but what’s between those beautiful patterns is eternal. The spaces in-between which you must have to even be able to witness such beauty in the Mehndi design.

So they’ll separate in another lifetime, another Universe, another body, but then they’ll join back together and it will always be a continuous journey for Xena and Gabrielle - or whatever their names are in and at that moment - because they are the human representation of yin-yang and what you can learn through them as both individual characters and a character dynamic is love - be it whichever way you wish to interpret the nature of that love. The point is that it’s an EPIC love story first and foremost and that everything else about the show becomes far more valuable when you view it as that from episode one. That way even the early episodes are significant in terms of the trajectory of their romantic arcing, even when - especially when - they are paired with others because it is a romance what they have. It’s just that it’s not just a romance. There’s so much more to it.

And for me - that’s exactly what makes it even more of one. It’s the fact that it can’t just be pinned down as romantic love but all other different types of love too. It is that - absolutely. But it’s far more than that to the point where there really isn’t a necessity for it to arc romantically because the journey is why you want it to. And the journey is immense. Nothing could eclipse it. There’s not a single WLW love story out there in the TV art/entertainment hemisphere that can come close to what Xena and Gabrielle have. They are the ultimate. It’s bitter suite to think that the first ever WLW love story we had in a TV show was also the greatest one because they really couldn’t confirm it textually. But it’s precisely because they couldn’t why it’s so great because it forced them to have to find another way of representing a romantic relationship without any sex. And if all you care about seeing is the sex, well then this isn’t a relationship I would recommend to you because, besides from a few kisses, there isn’t any. It’s an emotional romantic relationship and it’s beautiful and well-worth watching for me - who is so tired of overtly sexual ships that have little to nothing else to them and it may be a double-edged sword, but if you asked me, they need to go back to the censorship because it’s too insulting for me to only see that between WLW/queer ships in TV art/entertainment. I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again. I have no issue with sexual intimacy in general. But I do if it’s all it is. If the only thing that ship is is sex, it’s a big no from me.

Xena and Gabrielle didn’t have any representation in a sexual context but they did have everything else that a real life WLW romantic/sexual relationship would have.

So you’ve got to take your kicks for the ticks - as I like to say. But in my view, that “kick” was barely a nudge. It did not phase me whatsoever that they had no sex on-screen. What bothers me is that they cannot be considered “canon” without showing sex on-screen because showing kisses was enough for me to see and believe of them as a canon WLW ship. But in this day and age, that would be very frustrating for people because for some reason… that is what is required to “canonize” a romantic/sexual ship - same-sex or not. And I just… I don’t know. I preferred the censorship when the intention of the showrunners was sincere and they actually cared about representing true love between two people that didn’t involve constant sex and showed you the emotional connection and how those two people relate to each other instead ‘cause for me, it is far more worthy of my time and attention.

Xena and Gabrielle were just one of a kind in such a way that they came about in a time and place where WLW representation couldn’t be so explicit in TV but, because of that, the writers built on their relationship in so many other ways that still showed the romance and at the same time made it far more than romance. And it was the most beautiful and profound ship ever.

Were a reboot to ever happen,… I wouldn’t want it to because I know they will never be able to do this again.

And if they can’t - why would I even care to watch it?

I’ve been a big fan of this show for a long fucking time. It’s not just Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship that I love about it but it is what keeps me coming back to it because even though I will come across ships that are worth my time and attention, I just know I won’t be gifted a relationship like Xena and Gabrielle’s again.

[janicekao]

May

The Gods Allow It

Pairing: King Aegon II x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of the series "House Of The Dragon." During a day of sitting on the irone throne and listening to the requests of the people of King's Landing, the young King Aegon sits through it clearly bored and unamused until he lays eyes on a beautiful woman who he has never seen before... A girl who is the daughter of King's Landing’s finest Blacksmith, Lady Tabitha Atkins. Warnings: mideival fantasy, time piece, rough s3x, d0m&femsub, vi0lence, smut, v1rginity taking, mentions of !ncest, fan fiction, br33ding k1nk, praise k1nk, etc. 9438 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -----------------------------------

Our bodies glisten with sweat as I throb inside of her tightening cunt, so very deep in her core that my swollen cockhead brushes against her cervix each time she bucks.

She loves it.

Voice whiny and full of sweet whimpers as she reaches for her climax, biting her bottom lip, and infatuated with how full she feels as she impales her cunny on my every inch.

I've lost count of the days since she's been here, and I have no hopes of her ever leaving.

Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing, daughter of Sir Joseph Atkins, the town's finest Blacksmith.

The absolute love of my life.

———

A far cry from a year ago or so, I sat the iron throne listening to all of King's Landing who came to their King with requests. My people were starving, poor, and in need of help. Families complained of starvation, farmers wished to be paid for their livestock that are eaten by our dragons, and the Blacksmith wanted payment for the many swords he slaved over hot fires to make my knights gear and weapons for war.

I honestly couldn't have cared less.

An elder half sibling of mine believes that she is the rightful heir to the iron throne, and because of this... War is now upon us.

I sat there that day lying to the faces of my people.

"You will be reimbursed for all that you have contributed for the sake of the crown." I yawned nonchalantly. "I, as King Aegon Targaryen II of all the seven kingdoms promise to take care of King's Landing first, after our victory in the Battle of Throne."

I knew it wasn't true, but I still said it. I am the King of Westeros, I'll forever take what is needed to protect my rights to the throne regardless of who may be affected in the long run. My dragons will be fed, and my men will be prepared for battle if any means necessary... The crown always comes first.

My dishonesty to the faces of the loyal people of King's Landing became easier said than done when the face of the Blacksmith, Joseph Atkins came along with the presence of an angel...

I lost focus. I wasn't able to lie any further, at least not to him and his company.

Each time this Blacksmith visits the throne with requests, he is covered in soot from working tirelessly near the scorching flames that burn and shape his metal... That day, the girl beside him was covered in it as well. Clearly a relative and I needed to know more about her.

Who was the girl with the shimmering brown flesh, long legged with full lips, and a breathtaking scowl?

I needed to know.

Sir Joseph Atkins began to speak about the reimbursement he required for the perfectly crafted steel he had produced for the crown's army.

I interrupted him without a single care of the words escaping his tongue. "Who is she?"

"Her?" He asked as I nodded with haste.

The gentleman stood with a proud chest. "May I present to you Your Grace, my daughter. Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing. My greatest gift from the Gods, and my trusty assistant in the Steel shop."

"Tabitha."I repeated the name with a wide smile as the word melted from my mouth like delicious cream... Gods, what a sight to see. The Hall quaked with gasps as I stood from my very own throne and bowed lightly to the tawny princess that needed to be mine.

An enchanting furrow in the brow from the nerves that fell upon her, clearly afraid of me, being that I am the King. She had obvious ill thoughts about me and my character... However gracefully, she bowed in return anyway.

It was unfair the way that she was making me feel. How much she made me come out of my usual corrupt comfort; I became determined to make her feel it too. I wanted her to be just infatuated with me as I suddenly was with her.

"The King's hand will prepare your payment, Sir Atkins." I immediately gave way to anything that would make Tabitha happy. If it was to pay her father for his labor, then so it be. "The crown appreciates your loyalty and skill."

A smile and a breath of fresh air released from the man. "Thank you my King!"

"—Under one circumstance." I interrupted. "Leave here Lady Tabitha. I'd like to familiarize myself with other youth of King's Landing... I am the King, as well as a young man."

Man to man, Sir Atkins knew exactly what I wanted with his daughter. He froze with an uneasy scowl, knowing good and well that if he left his child here with me, she'd be spent across my cock by nightfall.

But I had no plans to harm her. I gave my word. "Just for a small gathering. Lady Tabitha will be well taken care of here at the Red Keep. She will be returned, unharmed."

The elderly gentleman turned to his daughter. He waited for her permission even if it meant that denying me of her could have caused him his own head. Proud, and brave, Tabitha nodded in agreement. She wanted no issues with the crown... eager to do very much anything if it meant the safety and dignity of her family.

That evening for supper, an extremely long table divided us. Tabitha at the end, and I at the head of the dining table. The chambermaids had turned her prettier than a portrait, yet she still sat unhappy.

"Your Grace, you promised a gathering." She hesitated. "However, it is only you and I dining together."

Clearly I withheld the full truth... But why else would I had invited others when it was only her who captivated my attention, my entire being.

"The servants do not count?" Gently, I teased and waited for a laugh that never came.

"No, your Grace." Tabitha cleared her throat and frowned. "They do not."

I began to grow tired of her attitude. It was clear that she was not keen of her King and that she did not plan to make this evening any less difficult.

Being a considerably spoiled young man, it fumed me how bad I wanted her to accept me. As the King, I could do with her as I pleased. If I wanted to, I didn't need to wait a second more for her to embrace me, I could have taken her however I wanted.

Her dress enticed me. The chambermaids had dressed her in a low neckline and in my favorite shades... Colors that danced across her dark skin like velvet.

Although I smiled, my thoughts grew more wicked each second.

So used to women and whores falling at my feet and being far less difficult, my mind turned into impatient mush. My cock ached to be taken out of its confinements. I imagined masturbating over her until I could watch my seed drip down her face, breasts, and dinner plate.

... But instead, I sighed and kept my cuth. "Tell me about yourself." I insisted on conversation.

She paused.

"I am the daughter of a Blacksmith." Uninterested with where this could take us, Tabitha sighed as she began. "I take pride in taking care of my family, my community, and especially my younger siblings."

"How lovely!—" I went on to sweetly boast about her caring nature when I became rudely interrupted.

Tabitha continued abruptly. "—These are the very same people who starve daily as your loyal peasants. Yet, we still fill our every day catering to the likes of you, Your Grace. Giving our everything to the crown when we can hardly fill our own bellies. Livestock that our people raise big and strong for years just to be swallowed whole by your God awful dragons when that meat could be salted and last man an entire year of keeping King's Landing fed and surviving."

"People, children are sick and dying!" Tabitha shouted. "Eating fish from the surrounding waters for their every course because it is the only thing that is plentiful around here! Well, I can assure you one thing Sir... Guts from a fish is far from the daily nourishment that YOUR people need to survive..." That is what I can say about myself, Your Grace. I am your subject, not your friend."

"WINE." She demanded and the servants fetched it quickly.

She began to feed like a swine piglet. Gulping down rich wine and licking the bones of her lamb chops clean.

She was hungry, and she hated me.

The disrespect was unfathomable. I began to flame red, never had ever been spoken to in such way in my entire life. I couldn't tell in the very moment if I wanted to kill her, or fuck her senseless.

But what I did know is that I couldn't say my piece from far across the table.

I rose to my feet and the servants began to gasp. I shouted for their dismissal and Tabitha tensed when we became very alone in the dining hall.

She was the naughtiest thing I'd ever laid eyes on and I couldn't wait to take a bite.

Sitting in a guest chair an inch away from her, I could smell Tabitha's fear. But if you were to look at her grimace... you'd have not an idea that she was afraid. I was pissed, but Gods... If she wasn't fit for a Queen, I wouldn't know who else could be.

"I welcome you to the Red Keep as an honorary guest, and you sit before me spitefully accusing me of things that are far over your head, Lady Atkins do you have a death wish?" I bit through my teeth as my face inched closely towards hers.

"I am honest." She gulped.

"And honesty will get you killed." I snapped.

My eyes enjoyed being able to watch her so closely.

"Look at you, complaining of being starved with not an inch of extra room in this dress!" I taunted her as I pinched at her deliciously full thighs.

Tabitha squealed at my touch, she swatted my hand as tears swole in her eyes. "I was forced here!"

"Forced?" I sarcastically chuckled. "Ah yes because you seem to be so mistreated with wine dripping down your lips that is more expensive than you are."

Her jaw ticked with rage. "I don't have a price, I cannot be bought. I am not a whore.

"I never expected you to be." I frowned, aggravated at her lack of eye contact as my fingers graced her chin and turned her gaze back to me.

"Your chamber maidens bathed me." Her voice became weak. She was embarrassed that I had called on her in front of her father, in front of all of King's Landing.

I loved how she stared at me for answers... Tabitha's large brown eyes swallowed me up as her tears continued to swell. "They styled my hair, forced me into expensive garments, and shaved my cunt bare."

A chill down my spine made me shudder at the thought of her being so soft and silky beneath her dress.

"I am here to be your whore, am I not?" She asked impatiently.

"No." I refused. "Not my whore, but you are here to be mine, yes. To be my whore I would've bedded you by now, without a care of getting to know you. When I met you today I became captivated by you, I want you to feel the same."

She immediately rolled her eyes with a rude ill-mannered scoff.

"Play immature games if you want to, Tabitha... But never in your life have you come to the iron throne with your father." I dug further into her true intentions as her chest rose and fell in anticipation. "Now what made you come this morning on the day of requests, hm? Answer me!Is it because you had a request yourself? Or maybe you wanted to see the rumored usurper king in the flesh? No— you came to let me lay eyes upon you, so you could play with my heartstrings. I believe you knew what you were doing all along, what do you think?"

...

Tabitha gulped, she turned away once more from my gaze as she continued with her supper. "I think perhaps you should leave my space and try the pudding, aren't you starved?"

"More than most." I snarled. "But not for fucking pudding."

Swiping the table clean, Tabitha's tray of royal cuisine met the ground.

I grabbed hold of her, lifting her onto the tabletop as I searched frantically beneath her skirt.

She gasped, immediately forgetting formalities as she shouted out my first name. "Aegon!"

"Hush." I demanded. "Let your King take care of you."

I ridded her small clothes as if I was a child unwrapping candy. I pressed her chest backwards, forcing her to lay against the table as the skirt of her dress crept above her waist.

Gods, she was as prepped and bare as she had promised. Between her thighs glossed over with the arousal she had been denying and her mound was bountiful like a deliciously ripe peach.

My mouth attacked at her without letting a drop of her nectar go to waste. The kisses I laid upon her clit made her jolt and whimper in desperation.

Tabitha's hands pushed away at me to the point of having to force her wrists to the table as I devoured my meal. I allowed her sweet digits back when they began to comb and grip lightly through my platinum-white Targaryen tresses.

Her moans were sounds of gratification... All I've ever wanted was someone, anyone to wish me a job well done. Commend me of my efforts and assure me that I was indeed a good boy. "Is it good for you?"

Her choked sobs were enough of an answer... Her flesh flushed red as her pussy began to pulse and I knew she would soon climax across my lips.

Tabitha's hips began to grind across my face as she reached urgently for her precipice. Her pleads made her voice crack as the sound of her brain-rot echoed through the dining hall. My thumb circled her pearl as my tongue dipped in and out of her core. She came with a flavorsome cry, I groaned into her pussy and drank her release like a man starved. My tongue soaked her sweet cum up as freshly baked bread does balsamic oil.

My trousers so full of sticky precum and a hard cock, it made me brutish. I lifted Tabitha in my arms bridal style as she lay tiresome and still in shock. I warned her of my plans... I warned her that I was to take her to my chambers and we were to spend the night... the coming days... the coming weeks and months with nothing but earth shattering sex. I was to take her maidenhead, and make her part of the Red Keep, part of me.The argumentative minx had not one issue with what I had informed her with. She no longer cared to save herself for a husband because in that very moment, I was just as much hers as she was mine.

I carried her out of the dining hall with orders to the Hand of the King of what I wanted completed.

"Have the cooks prepare the same supper and have it delivered to the Atkins residence." I demanded. "Make sure it's enough for them to share with whomever they may desire."

"Anything else Your Grace?" I was asked.

I stared in the round brown irises that won my heart over.

"Aye." I nod. "Gather the council by morning-fall. King's Landing is starving, their King needs to mend their trust. Rationing... will be the subject matter of discussion."

Otto Hightower, My Grandsire and King's Hand stared at me with looks of daggers... I could see that he saw me as a foolish King, changing plans and making differences for the likes of a woman... but I couldn't have cared less.

With the title of being King of Westeros, anything is possible and everything is in my hands.

Hightower bowed. "I will relay your message to the council, Your Grace."

I looked towards Tabitha and the scowl that stained her face was finally gone... Now left with a magnificent smile that seemed to be gifted by the Gods themselves.

Our lips met as we journeyed to my chambers. As I stole her maidenhead, she stole my heart. We drank, we laughed, I even found that we shared the very same night of birth under the summer season and full moon twenty-two years ago. She was me, and I was her. Finding her was the sense of completeness I had been looking for my entire life.

———

"Aegon! I hate when you do that." Tabitha complains. She takes notice to my quiet daydreaming as she continues to ride me as if I was saddled. "Focus on me, baby."

I chuckle sweetly as I find my bottom lip bitten between my teeth, refocusing on her tight cunny that chokes my manhood and drains my stamina. "I always am focused on you my love. I found myself reminiscing on the day that I made you mine. Nearly a year today, an approaching anniversary... Thoughts help me holdout a bit until you have reached yours, now it's my turn."

"Ah yes... The day I met you upon the iron throne. I should've known trouble was amongst me." Tabitha softly flirts.

"I waited." She begins to smile, whispering against my lips. "Wanted to reach ecstasy, together."

"Mmm." I hiss lightly, adoring her wildly. "Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing... I love you with every being of my body."

"Then show me." She insists.

...

I do as I'm told.

As I lay Tabitha onto her back, my hand slips across the soft skin of her belly, through the full globes of her breast, and to her throat where I begin to choke lightly. Her legs spread, inviting me into her warmth and it only takes a second for me to find my flesh sheathed in the depths of her core.

I find a rhythm that is rough and commanding and I watch her lips fall open with strangled gasps. Tabitha attempts at a wiggle to separate us. Wanting me to allow her a momentary second of rest before she melts into the sheets. However, overly dizzy for her sex, I refuse the escape... pressing my heavy body further against hers and deepening my impale. The walls of her cunt contract against my cock, I begin to feel numb and see stars as my words stammer dumbly. Gods... Her sex could rise a dead man from the ground, and I'm the only one lucky enough to have had it.

"Fuccckk." A groan escapes the depths of my throat as I nearly give in and spill into her.

Tears of passion fill her luscious lash line and she can only squeak out soft sounds as her digits grip the sheets beneath us.

Licking my lips like a hungered man, I begin to grin as I watch her in her blissful pleasure. I cup Tabitha's face and kiss her tenderly as the kisses create faint bruises down her neck and soon down her chest where I begin to enjoy the swirling of my tongue across her aroused buds.

"You looked incredible wrapped around my cock." I softly appreciate her breathtaking beauty.

I roll my hips in a speeding passion as my cockhead knocks impatiently at her g-spot. "Aegon— please."Tabitha weeps out a beg as her nails find way into my skin.

Her pussy sops for me, creating lewd music that echoes within the walls of my chambers.

My mouth hangs ajar as I moan out worships for her.

"Gods!" I complain. "My sweet girl, does that feel good?"

She nods immediately. "So good— so good, Aegon."

My pounding weakens as I feel the need to erupt. I grab Tabitha's full hips, dimpling them with the strength of my fingers as I stretch her with the full length of my cock... I bottom out into her until my sack is flushed against her cunt and begins to drain. Tabitha dissolves into pleasure as my hot seed spickets into her core while she reaches her peak.

I expel constant grunts, body jerking each time my cum stutters a bit of its load out of me until I am left limp and soaked in a mess of our love.

Tabitha's eyebrows furrow as she powers her way through an intense climax, legs shaking until the thrill passes by her. Her chest rises and falls as she draws in breath, soon beginning to chuckle in disbelief of the moment that we have shared together..

"Gods!" She pants sweetly. "Again, Aegon?"

I chuckle gently as I place a gentle peck to her lips. I begin to peel her knees further apart. My lip catches in between my teeth as my pupils dilate, watching closely at the foray I caused upon her pretty little mound.

"Let me watch it leak out of you." I insist as my body heats again with arousal while I  watch my pearly spend seep out of her pretty flower.

The corners of her lips begin to quirk upwards, teasing me gently as she pushes the semen out of her core and let it seep down her thighs.

My jaw clenches, eyes rolling back into my skull. "Fuck that's good, and you my dear— are terribly delicious and absolutely evil."

Tabitha finds her way to my chest, having me to lay backwards in the pillows and wrap my arms around her as she listens in on my heartbeat.

She sighs gently. "What's evil, is having to drink another of your Maester's tea."

"Aegon." Tabitha begins to pout over the awful medicinal herbal tea used to prevent or abort pregnancy. "If I am to drink another Moon-Tea, I think I'll die."

My hands gently comb through her wild mane of jet-black curls, full and thriving in its natural state after another day of addictive fucking. "So don't drink it... give me child, my dear."

She immediately lifts her head from my chest with a scorning frown. "You've gone mad."

"I haven't." I insist. "What will come of us? How will we create a stain, evidence of our love?"

"Aegon." She refuses the thought. "You and I cannot marry. You must marry a high-born, not the daughter of one of your subjects. Our children would be Targaryen bastards!"

"Yes!" I continue to plead. "Haven't you given it thought? My Targaryen hair, your tawny skin, and big brown eyes... the most handsome children in all of Westeros. They'll have it all. They will speak High Valyrian and ride their own dragon... Tabitha, please."

"Aegon, don't begin with this." Her refusal is unbending. She begins to dress in her nightgown, giving my voice not another thought. "With your hair, it would be clear that my children are Targaryen bastards. You'd be looked down upon as a whoring King, and I'd be looked down upon— well, as the whore!"

I scoff. "So we will wrap their hair in garment in the eye of the public if we must! It does not matter Tabby, they will be protected always and live under my roof as Princesses and Princes."

"You asked me if I have ever given it thought..." She rejoins me on the bed with a gentle hold to my hand. "I've thought about it every day since we've met, Aegon. Don't you think that I would love to be your Queen and have your children? It would be my dream to have a family with the man that I love. But sadly, that's all it will ever be, a dream.We both knew the risks of being together. We recognized that our relationship would be kept forever secret and we still went on about it. Aegon, please don't make this any harder than it already is."

Dying to continue the conversation, I even begin to imagine her womb full with my seed. I'd be sure to have the servants wait on her hand and foot... She'd wear the prettiest gowns, and her essence would make the Red Keep the most beautiful it's ever been as she would fill it with her fertility and grace.

However, the tears in her eyes pain me more to see... I can't bear to stress the situation any longer.

...

"Let's have a night of rest." I smile softly. "Only sweet dreams for thoughts."

I softly wipe Tabitha's fallen tears as she nods in agreement.

Becoming meek and childlike, she dissipates into my arms as I blow out the candles that light our chambers, and I tuck her into the satin sheets.

"Goodnight." I coo faintly. "No more worries my love, rest now."

———

Morning light stings my eyes as they begin to open, I find my dearest Tabitha above me, already dressed for the day.

I sit up from bed with playful and light jester. "Out of the many hours of morning sex that we should be having, why are you already dres—"

My words are cut short with a cruel slap across the face.

My ears ring from the forceful strike and when they finally stop, I find my lover absolutely distraught and in tears...

As my hearing comes back, my heart aches from the way that she sobs. "Tabitha?" I instantly whimper.

"You vile— sick, sick, man." The words grit through her teeth and I worry frantically for what it is that she has found out.

"YOU FILL ME WITH YOUR DISGUSTING SEED!" She begins in thunderous shouting. "You speak of a life where we are to have children together, when you have already fucked two inside of your own sister!"

My blood runs cold knowing that she knows my darkest regret... "I need to explain."

"I awaken early on the search for your Maester! For him to begin a batch of the Moon-Tea, and that is when I overheard it all!" Tabitha begins to lose color... her brown skin paling from heartbreak. "Your mother, the Maester, and your seventeen year old sister Helaena! She was lying on her back! Having an inspection by the Maester beneath her skirt when she was congratulated by him and your mother for bearing your twins! They congratulated her as the bloody Queen of Westeros!"

"Tabitha, damn it!" I spazz and my mind begins to spin with shame and anger. "The nerve of you to slither around your King's castle! Eavesdropping in on business of not your own!"

"FUCK YOU!" She spits. "I am so disgusted that I can hardly breathe without the need to vomit! Not only have you lied, withheld from me that you had already found your Queen and have been married! But for the sake of the Gods, SHE IS YOUR BABY SISTER!"

"DON'T YOU THINK I AM ALREADY DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF ENOUGH?" I stand to my feet to argue and my height frightens Tabitha enough to flinch at the tone of my voice. "I had no say in this Tabitha! Helaena and I hated the thought but it was pushed amongst us by the council! By our mother! They did not want just a high-born queen! They wanted the bloodline strictly Targaryen! This was forced upon us, Tabby!"

Tabitha's delicate hand graces her forehead as the other places on her stomach as she begins to feel even more ill. "You bedded your sister...Relieved yourself of pleasure inside of her..."

"Hear me when I tell you that it will only ever be once..." I tremble as I notice the love drain from in between us. "I was promised that giving the title of Queen to my sister and giving her an heir to the throne on our wedding night, that you and I would never have to separate... I was promised your very own knights of protection for you and your loved ones and that you all could live permanently here in the Red Keep. You are to by my only lover! Helaena maybe my Queen, but she and I view each other as only siblings!"

I clench my eyes tightly shut, reminiscing on the night I was forced to take my sister's virginity. I drank myself silly with wine just to bear it, and poor Helaena and I stuck it through for the sake of the crown.

"Gods! So now I am to blame for this incestral breeding!?" Tabitha scoffs. "You are absolutely sick in your head Aegon! I never would have agreed to this! EVER!"

As I step closer to her to beg for her forgiveness, Tabitha steps back.

"I must leave now..." She gulps. "I cannot— I cannot be apart of this, the Gods aren't happy."

"I love you." Tears begin to drop down my face and I stutter like a child being disciplined. "I need you. You cannot leave! I can— I can fix this."

I plead aimlessly. "I am the King of the seven kingdoms. You will never need nor want for anything regardless of your status here in the castle. You're mine."

She ignores me...

Tabitha wipes her tears and grabs for her cloak to leave the Red Keep through the secret exit.

Without a thought of what to do, I become a mad man... using my title and authority to get what I want.

"I AM YOUR KING!" My jaw ticks as I shout. "YOU ARE TO DO AS YOU ARE TOLD OR ELSE! YOU ARE MINE, TABITHA. I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF. I DEMAND YOU TO SIT DOWN AND GO NOWHERE UNLESS TOLD OTHERWISE!"

...

Tabitha freezes with tears and hatred burning within her eyes.

"Fine." She gulps, suddenly stripping out of her garments and lying back in bed. "As you make clear a million times a day or more, you are King Aegon Targaryen of the seven kingdoms. If you shall want me your Lordship, there is nothing I can do other than to continue being yours. But I'll have you know, from this day on I will never love you the same."

"Tabitha, please."I beg softly for her to stop the act of kissing loyally at my arse like the rest of King's Landing... I just want her back, I want everything the way that it was.

"Will you have me, or am I free to be dismissed your Lordship?" She lays on the unmade bed, still and avoiding eye contact.

"YOU WILL STAY!" I explode.

"Yes, Your Grace." She continues calmly. "I am ready to be used whenever you are ready to use me."

"What are you doing? Get up!" Her act of a common whore aggravates me further.

She continues anyway. "I am your loyal servant, Your Grace. Do as you please with my body."

"Get up!" My voice breaks as I continue to argue one-sidedly. "Quit with this foolishness. Your taunting is unacceptable!"

"Tabby, call me Aegon." I beg sheepishly. "Baby, I am your Aegon."

She continues robotically. "Whatever you ask, Your Grace."

I fully erupt. Grabbing hold of the full steel canister of wine, I throw it across the chambers until it hits the wall... crumbling stone to the ground from the force.

The throw startles Tabitha, she breaks out of her act and tearfully attempts to run past me. I grab hold of her wrists, pulling her into me as I beg for another chance. "Tabitha! Please! Please stop, I need you."

"Get away from me!" She fights senselessly, bruising herself as she tries to pull from my grasp.

The large double doors of my chambers open... The racket causes my mother Alicent to intervene. "What is going on in here!?"

"Mother!" I demand. "Out of my chambers!"

...

She watches upon the love of my life as if she was a stinky street harlot.

"You should leave." She speaks to Tabitha. "The King's Queen will be visiting her husband shortly."

"You mean his sister." Tabitha quickly bites.

...

"Aegon, I'll have your whore's tongue for less." Mother begins to boil over from the unfamiliarity of Tabitha's sharp tongue.

"No worries, Your Grace." Tabitha wipes her tears, bowing to my mother respectfully as she laces the last loop in the corset of her dress. "I was just leaving."

"Tabitha!" Although still bare and only wrapped in a sheet, I still attempt to chase after her as she exits. However, my mother stops me...

"It's for the best." Alicent's hand stops me at the chest. "A King who is at war over his throne does not have time to worry about the heart of a common girl. Aegon... You are King now. The responsibility of the crown is in your hands, act like it."

I watch my mother with pure hatred...

So quick to worry about the well-being of the crown, and never once the wellness of her children.

If she hadn't brought me life, I would have had the guards take her head many moons ago.

"Your chambermaids are on the way to dress you, my King." Mother smiles maniacally and caresses my face with her soft hand. "You must sit the throne today for King's Landing's requests... They need their King, Aegon. You'll have to let her go."

Let her go?

Easier said, than done.

Together, we watch Tabitha run out of the trailing hallways of the Red Keep.

Her image and the sound of her footsteps become smaller the further that she runs... And the further that she runs, the more prominent my heartache grows.

Mother stares in disgust. "She never had the strength of a Targaryen anyways... it wasn't meant to be."

Doing as told... I dress for the day as mother leaves.

Although I am escorted to the hall of the iron throne to answer the requests of my subjects, my eyes continue to fill with tears. I push them back, needing to find strength for my people. But, how am I to answer requests, when there is no one to answer my own?

Who is there to request a plead from a King? Perhaps the Gods...

Perhaps the Gods will fulfill my one and only request, to bring back the love of my entire being... My forever lady, Tabitha Atkins.

———

Three years later

I wake up in absolute agony, shouting for more Milk of the Poppy to dull my pain.

Ever since my incident, I tend to sleep all day due to the medicines given to me by the Maester. As I sleep, I either dream about the love that I lost years ago, or I dream about the terrible events of my most recent near death experience.

I've made awful decisions in my short term of being King, but nothing as bad as riding my dragon into a battle while being inebriated off of too much wine.

I had a death wish... A foolish one at that. But tired of living a life of depression, loveless, and never taken seriously... the mind will drive you to do insane work.

I may be the face of the crown, but my council and my mother feel that my ideas are idiotic and simple... They feel that I was never fit to rule, and that I should sit quietly and be useless, let them take control of the rulings of Westeros.

First they take a man's love, and then they take his power. What could be next now that they've taken it all?

I became careless with the things that I do... I decided to get wine drunk and I rode my poor dragon Sunfyre into the battle at Rook's Rest... A battle I had no business being at. Somehow I survived it... Third degree burns laced across my body, yet I am still here.

But the worst part of it all is knowing that the reason Sunfyre and I were burned to the ground was all out of one person's spite.

My own brother... Prince Aemond...

My last memory before everything went black for months was Aemond's dragon Vhagar opening his gullet of fire after Aemond's command.

"Dracarys." He attempted to kill me with this command.

I realized then how much I have absolutely no one in this life... Aemond, just like our mother Alicent, thirsty and jealous for the crown to the point of sabotaging their own blood.

My brother expected me to die that day. He expected to permanently become the King, but because I survived, he only fills my place on the throne momentarily...

As I become better, I still fear for my life. If he tried to kill me once, he is sure to try it again.

I spent my days childishly being my brother Aemond's first bully... and now I am reaping what I sewed. But as dangerous as he is, and the things that he is capable of doing... I could never trust the innocent people of Westeros in his hands, especially not with Tabitha Atkins and her family still living here in King's Landing.

With Aemond in charge, there will be war and there will be blood... Not just bloodshed from each fighting side, but deadly war crimes to Westeros' innocent subjects.

If all things are out of my control in this very moment, the least I can do is get word out to Lady Tabitha... thus I owe to her.

Grand Maester Orwyle enters into my chambers with more Milk of the Poppy, but being that there are things to be done... I cannot take it.

"Maester..." I begin. "No more Milk of the Poppy."

"But for your pain, Sire?" He frowns.

"I understand." Even the small things like gulping down my throat or speaking pains me in this day. "But my mind must stay sharp, I have a task I need you to complete with the guards... I need it done discreetly."

"Yes, Your Grace." Maester Orwyle nods. "Whatever you may need."

As I lay here, I begin to create a plan. I order the Maester to discreetly bring Lady Tabitha Atkins to my chambers here in the Red Keep. I ask him to bring help if needed be, knowing that Tabitha could good and well stubbornly refuse my command... I demand that if the girl attempts do dismiss Maester Orwyle, that he will instruct the guards to take her from the residence by force. Speaking with her is a dire need of mine not knowing what may happen in the future with my brother in charge as Prince Regent.

Maester Orwyle begins to leave with haste...

I stop him once more... Suddenly I become insecure with my injuries, wondering how my deformities look being that I haven't seen my reflection since my injuries were fresh.

"Maester." I gulp. "My skin... Am I able to even take a visitor, or am I still leaking of pus and absolutely hideous?"

Having to ask a question like such is the hardest thing I have ever done... I never in my life expected to ask another man if my flesh was still charred and horrid.

A tear rolls down my face and Maester Orwyle kindly takes my hand... "Your Grace..." He assures. "Your incident was months ago, although you may be forever disfigured, your skin has healed, and your heart is still gold. If the Lady ever truly cared for you, Sire... The last of her worries will be of your appearance."

...

His words stick with me... I begin to pray to the Gods that he is right. My only hope is that a moment within my gaze is enough to help Tabitha look past my monstrous image... Enough to let her hear me out for just a second of her time.

As I lay in bed, battered and bandaged, I continue to wait to see Tabitha's presence.

Three years have passed and I continue to think about her daily... I wonder if she has changed any, I wonder if she still hates me, I wonder if she's happy.

After many hours, my chamber doors finally open and Tabitha hurries in with haste. Tears melt down her cheeks as she crawls in beside me in bed and she lays on my scarred chest.

The weight of her body pains me a bit, yet I've never been more grateful to feel a pain in my life.

"Your Grace..." Maester Orwyle grins. "The guards were not necessary, when Lady Tabitha heard word of you being alive, she nearly beat us all here."

I immediately begin to sob. I wrap my arms around Tabitha tightly and Maester Orwyle leaves us to our long embrace.

Her curls smell of smoke and fire, clearly having been working in her father's steel shop. I inhale her missed scent deeply.

"I apologize Your Grace that I am not put together." Tabitha gulps. "I have soot and ash all over me. I've spent the day working with my father... There has been an order from Prince Aemond and the crown for a hundred swords by the end of the week or my father will be hanged!"

"Don't apologize." I insist. "You look glorious. Pretty as the very day that I met you at the iron throne. Fear not of your father's death... I'll be sure that it will not happen."

"Tabitha..." I gulp. "Why were you so willing to accept my invitation? I believed that you hated me for so long..."

"I did." She admits. "But we have had years apart, Aegon. I was able to mature and came to realize that you and Helaena were victims of something horrible... Victims of the unjust treatment of the crown's council, and forgive me for saying, but— the unjust treatment of your mother as well!"

"I know... I know."The thought of what the council forced upon my sister and I still haunts me to this day.

"I was disgusted... even a bit jealous the day that I left the Red Keep." Tabitha continues. "But what I regret the most is not standing up for you, my King. The news spread like wildfire through the streets of King's Landing... We saw your dragon, Sunfyre's lifeless body dragged through town and the rumor was that you were dead as well. When your Maester found me with the news of you being alive and wanting to see me, my feet never stopped running the cobblestones of the city until I was here in your very chambers... being able to see you for myself."

I begin to hate the way her eyes examine my body, I no longer look of the man she once knew. "I'm hideous."

"You're brave." She cups my face. "You are heroic and you survived a dragon's fire... A death that no man has ever escaped! King Aegon, stories and songs will be sang about you for centuries."

Tabitha smiles sweetly. "Cry not, Your Grace. You are a legend, and you are still here in the land of the living."

"Shall we change our thoughts to joy?" She asks with an enchanting giggle. "As I was led to your chambers, I heard youthful laughter in the courtyard. I assume they were your children? Your twins, a boy and a girl, yes?"

I pause... Not sure of how to relay the bad news out of my own mouth.

"At one time, yes..." I begin. "But as this battle for the throne continues, a criminal was sent to the Red Keep... As my son, my heir, slept in his crib... he was beheaded. My three year old child was murdered in his own bed by our enemies... His life, drug through the dirt and taken in war crimes to prove a point! To one up me for the throne."

...

Tabitha's eyes immediately glass over, turning pale and frozen with shock. "Gods... Aegon... I'm— I'm so sorry."

I softly refuse her pity. "I've done my share of grieving. I've cried until I dehydrated myself and my sister has not left her chambers since the day that it happened..."

I groan in pain as I sit up in bed with urgency "But this is what was so important for me to tell you. Dear Tabitha, the war has gotten out of hand. I believed that I was only fighting a half sibling for my throne, but it seems that I am fighting my full-blooded brother as well."

I continue to explain. "Tabby, in the battle at Rook's Rest my own brother Aemond is who burned me to the ground with his dragon... I realized then that every beating heart around me wants what I have. For the throne, there is no love lost... they will attempt to kill me for it, weaken me by killing the ones that I love most! After my boy was taken from me, I began to think of who else my heart beats for that my enemies could injure me with... My heart only is full for my children, and for you.A woman who time could not even stop me from loving."

"Tabitha, you're in imminent danger." I finally am able to warn her. "I called for you here today, knowing that my brother is out of the Red Keep running an errand... It was the only chance that I had for him not to see you."

Her head spins with all that I have to say... So much information that her and the rest of King's Landing have been kept from knowing all this time. "Aegon! And you are in danger as well! Your brother tried to murder you and now you still lay within the same walls of the Red Keep as him!? Has he come to you since?!"

"Daily." I admit. "Daily with threats to keep my mouth shut... Threats of keeping me unwell so I can never heal and come back to the throne. I lay in this bed, broken and exhausted... Afraid of every door creak, just awaiting and expecting Aemond to come inside and finish me off."

"Tabitha, I am terrified everyday." My voice begins to tremble. "But what is more frightening is imagining him come after you instead. My brother wants to see me pained and ill. As I lay nearly paralyzed in this bed, I can only imagine the evil he'd commit to break me further down. Aemond would have you captured. He'd bring you to these very chambers to beat, rape, and torture you in front of my very eyes, knowing that I am unable to stand and rescue you."

Poor Tabitha's eyes fill with fear.

"I am to leave King's Landing..." I continue. "A dear colleague of mine, Larys Strong is helping with my escape. He was born crippled, walking with a limp and a cane. He has taken pity on me now that I am crippled as well. Larys and I will escape King's Landing and he will take me to a proper place to heal and be protected from my brother and all who have ill intentions towards me. But the Gods know... I cannot leave this castle without knowing that you have escaped too. I will not leave, until I am absolutely sure that you are safe and out of King's Landing."

She begins to refuse. "My family and I— we cannot leave, Your Grace! We have very little means, we only get by each day by the grace of the Gods."

"The table, first drawer to the left." I interrupt. "Hurry Tabitha, make haste and come back to me."

...

Confusion eats at her before she is able to do as told. Sweet Tabitha sniffs her many tears back, wiping her eyes to see the contents of the drawer. She takes out a small burlap sack filled with coins of gold...

Gold shillings, that I have prepared for her to take.

Her eyes widen at the contents of the sack. "Your Grace, I cannot take this."

"You will." I demand.

"I won't!" Stubbornly, she hesitates.

I snap, drawing in the fullest breaths of air that my wounded lungs can hardly manage; I begin to shout. "Tabitha! Damn you! You will take it and you will flee to safety at nightfall, do you understand!?"

I begin to cough as the shouting drained me of my energy.

"Your Grace..." She cries. "I am not worthy of taking anything from you."

...

Now that we have gone on living very different and separate lives, I hadn't planned to bring up her personal business... But if it will help our cause, then I must.

I sigh. "Do you feel not worthy of my gift, because you're with child?"

Her eyes grow largely once more... She nearly begins to stammer. "Y-Your Grace?"

"Tabitha please..." I reject her lies. "I memorized the every freckle of your body as if it were my favorite poem. You wouldn't think I would notice your glowing skin, full bosom, and womb?"

...

Her head swivels as shame begins to embarrass her. Tears fall down her cheeks as she covers her mouth in shock. "I don't know what to say. Your Grace, I thought I wasn't to ever see you again... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." I plead softly. "I'm not angry, just please, come sit.Tell me of your husband. Does he treat you well?"

She tearfully chuckles, relieved that I am not angered for her moving on without me.

"Yes, my King." Tabitha joins me back onto the bed where my right-side isn't burnt and destroyed. "He's a good man. James Bartholomew of King's Landing... A Fisherman at the ports. We wedded five months ago, and he loves me."

I smile. "How could he not? You are perfect. And in another four more months, you'll be a mother. A fantastic one at that, Lady Tabitha Bartholomew."

"He loves you." I gulp. "But do you love him?"

"I'd like to believe so... But if I am honest with myself and to the Gods, what you and I shared many moons ago, is a love I believe that I'll never see again in this lifetime." Her honesty breaks me apart... Yes, the love that we shared is something we could never find twice.

My eyes wonder at her charming baby bump. "May I?"

Tabby nods in agreement.

Beneath her skirt, my right hand reaches towards her stomach where I begin to feel the child's kick. "The bairn will be strong, I sense a little lad. I can already feel his strong presence and movement."

Tabitha blushes sweetly... Her adorably round cheeks blush and swell into large red apples.

I feel sorrow as I begin to wish the child was mine... I can't help to think about the many opportunities Tabitha had to carry my own child just as beautifully. But sadly, our titles never were to allow it.

I begin to pull away, and my hand slips further down... Beneath her navel I find my digits awfully close to the warmth of her cunt and my breathing begins to shutter.

...

Tabitha gently gulps. "Will arousing you relieve your pain, my King?"

I tighten my eyes closed. "Your sex would make me whole again, Tabitha."

I sigh. "But I can't... I am burnt, disgusting, and alone... I am a cripple. My cock is destroyed, did they tell you that? It burst in the flames like a sausage on a Spit. I can't even piss without it running down my leg." (🤣 Actual quote from the show)

My jaw painfully ticks in irreparable low self esteem. "There is nothing down there to arouse, my love."

...

Tabitha pauses. "Perhaps... your mind?"

Is it even possible to release endorphins without using my cock?

Could it be?

I frown with confused thought. "Perhaps."

My only good eye watches as Tabitha takes her petite hand to my wrist... She guides it between her thighs where I am suddenly able to feel her slick.

Quietly I gasp, never in my life expecting to be able to have sexual romance ever again.

My fingers begin to become slippery as I tease through her folds...

Lying on the pillow next to me, Tabitha's sweet whimpered breaths dance across my face. I watch as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure and she begins to nibble on her bottom lip.

As I find her pearl, my fingers lightly tap at it as her nails begin to dig in my arm as she holds on to it tightly.

As I slap lightly at her clit, my digits make the sound of quiet splashing. So wet and horny, I would have been buried my cock in her if I still had my staff of flesh.

The intense teasing on her bulb causes her knees to collapse in on each other. "mm'Aegon—" Deliciously she begs. "You'll have to stop that, I'll finish too quickly."

I bite my lip, brain fogging with pleasurable need. "Just keep your knees open, be good for me little one."

Forcing her legs open longer, Tabitha begins to moan and squeak.

I become appreciative that I was able to at least keep one strong arm. A strong arm and hand with fingers to feel her addictive flesh... and sight in one eye to watch her melt over my caress.

My longest two fingers in the middle of my hand plunges into her core, fucking her like a cock and nearly arching her body from off of the bed.

Her walls clench down upon my digits, crushing them as I bang upon her sweet spot.

Tabitha begins to lose herself in enjoyment.

"Gods! Aegon, don't stop. Keep touching me— just don't stop." She dissolves into pleasure.

My heart flutters as if I can still feel my member become erect. I can't find satisfaction until I see her gorgeous face contort into tears from a good cum. "You like that? Fuck, you are absolutely beautiful my love."

I overheat, sweating from the most exercise I've had in weeks yet ignoring my pain to enjoy Tabitha's orgasm for the both of us.

"You'll have to ride it baby." I quickly demand. "Fuck my hand as if it were the last time you'd ever be touched."

Onto her knees, Tabitha sits on my hand as my digits find the insides of her tight cunt once more.

She begins to rock her hips... shouting as I swirl each finger against her cavity and let my fingers prune with her juices.

As Tabitha continues to buck, inching closer to her climax, her large pregnant tits bounce out of the top of her corset as does the curls out of her neat updo.

I beg earnestly for her to hover closer to me... As she leans my direction, my mouth suctions to her full breasts... nipping and sucking at her nipples as I devour her image and sounds, melting the memory of this day into my brain.

I kiss her neck and face as my hand begins to lose its feeling in it, I thank the Gods that my tongue once again has the chance to dance across her skin and I try my hardest not to leave love-bruises on her for her husband to find later.

A slow pace to her hips causes her to sink further down my fingers and my mouth hangs agape as I groan from the feeling of her pussy collapsing in on me.

"Yes..." I coo. "Yes, yes, sweet Tabitha, that is so good."

Twitching as her orgasm peaks, I notice her draw a breath in and feel the dire need to catch her exhale into my mouth. I swing my injured left arm to the back of her head and force her lips against mine, inhaling her expressive explosion and swallowing her choked sobs and the yummy cracks in the tone of her voice.

"Perfect." I worship. "—Just perfect."

Tabitha catches her breath, lightly smiling as our gaze meets and watching me devour her sticky nectar from off of my fingers. We moan in an overly satisfied kiss, sharing the sweet taste of her explosion.

I capture all of her beauty as I tuck her curls back into place and protect her virtue as I cover her bust back into her corset, easing the burlap sack of gold beside her breasts where no one shall find it.

Seeing her with my gold brings me joy, I could even die peacefully knowing that the gold will keep her and her family forever out of poverty.

My sweet girl's eyes begin to water. "Aegon—" She begins words that could only feel like a coming goodbye now that our time is running so short.

"Shhh." I softly hush her. "Just lay with me."

Regardless of my ugly scars, Tabitha lays her head against the skin of my chest... We enjoy the moment together, intwining our fingers as we hold hands... something we spent a many romantic night doing during our year together.

"Your Grace?" Maester Orwyle soon interrupts our nestle with the worse news. "It is time, Your Grace. There has been word that Aemond and his dragon Vhagar are nearing King's Landing. He is home early from his excursion. If I am to get the girl home safely, I must do it now."

...

My heart shatters, however, I must nod and do what's best for the safety of Tabby and her unborn child.

"Take her." I demand.

The Maester begins gently. "Lady Tabitha, please come with me."

She suddenly refuses. "Aegon, wait. Just another hour or so of conversation?"

I shake my head. "If I could, I would make it a lifetime. But I just can't spare it."

Maester Orwyle quietly gestures for the help of my guards.

I notice my knights in steel on their way to steal my lover from my arms, and I watch the pain and fear bubble into Tabitha's eyes.

"Wait!" She argues, pushing the men off of her. "Wait, what?! Damn you, Get your hands off of me!"

The guards tug on her roughly, lifting her off of the bed and to her feet as they pull her away.

Tears and anger begin to cause me more pain and distress than any burn ever could. "BE CAREFUL WITH HER DAMN IT." I begin to cough as I grit the words of my demands out strictly.

"Aegon, wait!" Tabitha begs as her arms are captured by two guards on each side of her. "Please! Just wait! Just hear me now."

"Guards." I demand. "Just—halt. Please, For one moment."

I take in a deep inhale of ragged breath that instantly burns my chest. "I am listening."

"I love you, Aegon." She bursts with a sudden admission.

My heart shatters into pieces. "Tabitha, please—"

"It is true." She interrupts. "I wish I fought harder for you. I love you, just please— just please say it back."

"And tell you what you already know? My dear, I will always love you." I gulp. "Tabitha, I never stopped loving you and I never will..."

...

I watch her gulp... she nods, hearing all that she needed to hear from me before finally being able to leave.

"Will we ever see each other again?"A soft final whimper escapes her tongue.

Gently I smile... "If the Gods allow it."

[blues824]

The Remarried Empress with a male Shouto Todoroki!Reader who's the Emperor of a faraway land who comes to visit after hearing rumors of the Eastern Empire's ruler and mistress. He finds himself enraptured with Navier and tries to figure out what he's feeling because he's socially inept. When he sees she's happy with Heinrey, he's confused as to why he feels so sad but he backs down from his feelings towards her when he finally finds out what love is since he's also happy to be her friend and a pillar of support to her. He's openly disapproving of Sovieshu and Rashta; when he meets Navier's brother, he finds himself becoming enraptured just like with the Empress.

Preface: You are the Emperor of the Northern Empire, and you were invited to the New Year’s Ball being hosted in the Eastern Empire. You, an eligible bachelor, found yourself intrigued by the rumors that had come from some merchants about Emperor Sovieshu’s mistress situation.

Sovieshu

He has heard about you and your Empire as well. From what he has been told, you didn’t have to be married to inherit the throne. No, you were competent and you knew how to lead your land. Thus, he held you in high esteem. Plus, he kind of had to otherwise your Empire might wage war with his, and he would be doomed because most of your subjects had powers.

But, the respect didn’t seem to be returned. No, every time he came close to you, he couldn’t get any closer because you would change the temperature of both your body and the room. The last time he approached you, you called him repulsive for doing such a thing to his beautiful wife. This surprised Sovieshu, as no one but you had the audacity to speak to him like that.

Rashta

She has not heard of you until Sovieshu had told her that you would be attending the Ball. She was sure that if she befriended you, it would give her a step up into higher society. So, she refined her manners and etiquette as quickly as she could so that she would make a good impression on you.

Turns out, her efforts were in vain because you gave her an annoyed side-eye whenever she tried to get close to you. She eventually noticed how you were staring at the Empress, and she wasn’t that dumb to not be able to piece everything together. But now she felt helpless because one of the most esteemed and powerful guests present within the ballroom was against her.

Navier

You were invited on Sovieshu’s behalf, but you naturally gravitated towards her more. When you first saw her, you suddenly felt a fluttering feeling within your chest and you had no words to describe it. Your heart told you to comfort her since you could tell that she was hurt at how her husband preferred his mistress rather than her.

However, your heart felt dread once Prince Heinrey asked Navier to dance. You had no idea what you were feeling, and you thought you were having a heart-attack or something. However, it wasn’t until you went back home and consulted your beloved mother that she explained that you felt love and jealousy for the first time.

Heinrey

As stated before, your heart felt a sense of dread as you watched Prince Heinrey dance with the Empress. Of course, you didn’t know what the feeling was, but you knew that for some reason you no longer were interested in talking with him about conditions between the Northern Empire and the Western Kingdom.

Of course, you eventually got over it once you became romantically involved with Kosair, and even offered some help if they needed assistance in transforming the W.K. into the Western Kingdom. The two of you became great friends, actually.

Kosair

You originally had a tiny crush on Navier, but you quickly got over it when you saw Kosair. You literally had to quickly leave because you could feel your body temperature rising quickly. You feared you might actually burst into half flames and half ice. Fortunately, you were able to save yourself from the embarrassment.

When he was exiled from the Eastern Empire, you wrote a letter saying that he could come to the Northern Empire to escape Sovieshu’s rule. To be fair, lying next to each other at night wasn’t exactly a bad idea for the both of you. You eventually became the two Emperors of the Northern Empire, but that’s a story for another time.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Thieves (Obey me x Reader)

In response to my last poll in which HCs won by a country mile, I present Mammon and Satan being needy little thieves! Enjoy!

MC has adapted several ways to evaluate the Devildom. This formerly alien place has now become rather familiar, but it plays by its own rules.

This is no less true for the seven brothers they share a roof with.

MC's had to learn quirks, hairpin triggers to flaming tempers, boundaries and fixations, but something they've also learned, is that each and every one of those brothers is a little thief.

Mammon had been oddly quiet all day. Ten hours without seeing him, and MC hadn't received a single text or disgruntled call. Not even a second hand message passed through his brothers.

It's odd, they find themselves staring aimlessly at their DDD as they make their way to their room for the evening. It's getting late, later than MC would've stayed out if not for Diavolo and Lucifer's company.

No amount of staring at the screen will change it though, no new messages from their first demon.

With a pursed frown, they push open their bedroom door, eager to get comfortable for the evening.

They peeled off the nice clothes they'd worn for dinner with the demon prince and reach for their favourite hoodie, the one that practically lives on the chair at their desk, only to be met instead by bare wood.

'Huh? Where'd I put-?'

Muttering to themselves, MC spun in a circle, searching for the familiar shade of painfully comfortable fabric, internally wondering how in the Devildom they'd misplaced THAT.

MC's more likely to loose their head than that hoodie, and as they finish the first lap of their room, they realise they haven't lost it at all.

It's been stolen.

Eyes rolling, they pull on an oversized tee shirt and shuffle out of the room, padding on bare feet.

Given the circumstances, there's only one demon who would attempt such thievery.

They knocked once on Mammon's door before pushing it open, and found him lounging on his sofa, wearing MC's double oversized, baggy hoodie as he scrolled through his phone.

'Whatdya want Luci-? Oh shit!'

The demon's expression was downright comical as he scrambled to try and cover himself with something. Too bad that the nearest object was a ridiculously tiny throw pillow.

Still, he's anything but a quitter and holds the item firmly to his chest. 'H-hey, what're ya doin' bargin' into a guy's room, human?!'

'Looking for that.' MC chuckled, leaning smugly against the closed door. 'If you missed me that much, you could've just said so.'

Mammon's cheeks became a delightful shade of rose, all too perfect to ignore. 'Like hell I'd miss ya! Puny human, you're lucky I don't-'

'Don't what?' MC purred, stepping forward until they stood between the demon's legs, gentle fingers combing the hair back from his face gently. 'Steal the rest of my wardrobe?'

Mammon gulped, wide eyes unable to look away from the human, his human, smiling down at him like he...like he mattered, like they loved him.

Before he can think to fake an objection, MC slid into his lap, arms sliding around his neck as they cuddled close, yawn slipping past their lips.

'If you're gonna steal my comfy hoodie, you'd better be ready to replace it, greedy menace.'

Of all the Devildom's lords, you'd have thought Satan sat on the far end of the spectrum when it came to open clinginess.

MC's a long way from being fooled into thinking that he's immune to missing them, despite the demon's stoicism.

On an outing with Solomon, MC had lost all ability to use their DDD (not at all because they were trapped in a pocket dimension after Solomon tried to prove a point).

By the time they'd returned to their proper places, MC had at least a dozen texts and three missed calls from the demon.

Rushing to the House of Lamentation, ready with apologies on their tongue for missing the planned reading date, they found the Avatar of Wrath's room empty.

Crestfallen, MC started typing a message on their way back to their own room, only to hear Satan's notification ping from beyond the door.

They found the mighty, terrifying avatar of Wrath, curled up on their bed with a book and MC's favourite plushie in his lap, their blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

'Shut the door!' Demanded the blonde, fighting off a blush as MC began to giggle.

With the door closed and locked behind them, MC arched a brow. 'Missed me that much? We resort to stealing plushies now?'

'It's still in your room, therefore, not stolen.'

'Uh huh. So you've just replaced me with a plushie sheep?'

Satan's returning smile was impish, one he saved for MC's playful bantering. He set the little sheep aside gently, and wordlessly opened his arms, eyes never once wandering from MC.

The human didn't hesitate, crawling into his lap in the little sheep's place, resting their cheek against his shoulder as Satan wrapped the blanket around them both and picked his book back up.

'Read to me?'

The demon pressed a kiss to the crown of their head, free hand gliding through their hair. 'Of course, love.'

[sweet-littlerose]

Every Little Everything || Matt S. X Reader Fic

Part One. Part Two.

Part 3: Maybe I Can Learn To Love You Too

“You don't have to thank me…it's what you do for someone you love” 

The words ricocheted off your brain like a gunshot. At first you were gonna protest, make it clear that things aren't like that and you could never see him as anything but a friend because deep down the feelings for Matt still lingered like the low flames of a fire. You didn't, you smiled and let his lips kiss your cheek and built the damn gingerbread houses. You had a good time, seems simple but true. The messy laughter and frosting covered hands that turned to messy hugs and then, once cleaned up, became cuddles on the couch in a warm blanket with the grinch filling the silence in the living room. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you and Matt were living totally separate lives and that you didn't owe him loyalty because you guys were never a thing. Somehow in the midst of everything you had lost sight of the fact that you two had never strayed from the invisible line drawn in the imaginary sand. You were friends, close friends…but that was it. You couldn't blame him for not coming home even if he did promise he would. He was busy, his life, his career, and all the fun fulfilling things that had now become part of his daily routine. It still hurt you weren't a part of that routine anymore and not that Nate made that hurt go away but here, cuddled in his arms with the soft flicker of the tv, and the scent of vanilla from a candle nearby filling the air, it all seemed okay.

Though the feelings for Matt still lingered, it was becoming increasingly clear that clinging to a fantasy was holding you back from what was right in front of you. Nate was here, filling every void that Matt couldn't, offering real, tangible connection and support. It was time to embrace what was real and present, rather than remain entangled in a dream that may never materialize.

Soon you began to spend more days like this, cuddled on his couch or yours, finding comfort in his arms as you two talked or watched movies. You never meant to fall for him, but his kindness and understanding gradually became a refuge from the ache that lingered in your heart. He filled the void left by someone you couldn't have, his presence soothing. Yet, beneath the warmth of the undeniable connection, guilt gnawed at you—knowing you were only doing this to fill the gaps Matt had left in his wake.  Despite the conflicted emotions, you couldn't deny the solace he brought into your life, even as you grappled with the complexity of the situation.

—---------------------------------------------------------------—————-

New Years Eve

Nate had practically begged you to come to the New Years Eve party his parents were throwing. Not that you didnt wanna go but you and Nate had been walking a pretty thin line. No one explicitly stating the status of you and Nate's current ….situationship, for lack of better words. He was making it increasingly clear he liked you but he always knew where you stood on your feelings for Matt and he had yet to feel totally convinced that they were gone (cuz they weren't) but he was doing his best. He’d bring you flowers or snacks, set up movie dates or dinner dates, or even just spend the night. As the days passed between Christmas and now, the conversations hadn't been about Matt or the boys and more about school, life, and normal things. 

When you got to Nate's house, it was filled with friends and family already borderline shitfaced. As you made your way through, Nate's head popped up from the crowd, a smile replacing his once dulled expression as he made his way over.

“You came!” he said, he hands resting on your hips as he pulled you close, his lips brushed over your cheek “You knew I would” you giggled out, his hand interlocking with yours as he led you over to the big screen tv on the wall. Everyone was watching the New York Times Square event, singing to the songs and enjoying their drinks and snacks. “I know but still, cant I be excited” he said, his hand tucked firmly around your waist You let out a warm chuckle, leaning into him as he spoke ”You can” your eyes lock on his as she lift your head to meet his gaze and he smiled.

He didn't deserve this, to be the Matt backup and yet here you were…pretending more than you cared to admit.

Nate had been such a comfort and you did deeply care for him. He stayed with his arm around you even if he was talking to his friends or family, he had you pulled close to his side. You watched the time pass and people began to countdown to midnight and you were happy. For a second it settled in that you were not really here with the person you wanted to be here with but it didn't matter because you would be blind to not see all the opportunity you had in front of you. Lost in thought, you hadn't even realized people shouting ‘Happy New Year’ until Nate pulled you to him by your waist and looked at you.

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned down, kissing your lips slowly and without a second thought you kissed him back, enjoying the feeling of being loved by someone.

And yet still….all you could think about was Matt

-Bro part 3 sucks ass, sue me-

-Just kidding, i had inspo then like half way through it died along with a part of my soul so this is where we stand. How are we liking this series, what do you guys wanna see?-

[m-jelly]

@2moth-anon2 request

@ladycheesington <3

Dangerous times with dangerous spies

Levi x fem!reader

Canon world, fluff, romance, established couple, spy reader, MP reader, secret meetings, worried Levi.

Levi and the scouts are in hiding as trouble arises. You are their main contact with what's happening in the main city. Doing your best, you pass on secrets and try sabotaging as much as possible without getting caught and ensuring your man and his cadets are safe.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

Being in the military police was not what you wanted in life, but it was something that was shoved upon you. At first, you weren't happy, but when Erwin requested you be a spy for the scouts you considered it. When Levi was brought in to be your protector and contact, you were more interested because there was something between you and Levi. A slight flicker of the flame of love.

It didn't take long before Levi and you grew closer and the spying and meet-ups were rather enjoyable. Levi would bring you snacks and presents. The one day he brought you flowers with a strong blush was the cutest day ever and the most important because that day you kissed him, and it was the start of your relationship.

So, even though it took a year for you to become a couple, it was mainly due to the short meetings you had with him and he was rather shy, it was perfect. You adored Levi and you were about two years in now. You loved each other deeply and passionately. The two of you explored firsts with each other and were so dedicated that you would be each other's lasts.

As time went by in the city, the more disgusted you became with the human race. The only good people in the world seemed to be the scouts, it was hard to get to know them all and protect them because they were always being sent to fight, like lambs to slaughter.

It concerned you how bloodthirsty the politicians were for Erwin's head and the blood of the scouts. The scouts were the very reason a lot of the Titans stayed away. The scouts had the best soldiers to offer and they wanted them dead. It irritated you to hear the talks, but you couldn't say a thing because you had to play a role.

As soon as the meeting was over you chatted with the politicians for a moment. You were so smooth with the way you spoke to people that you had them all wrapped around your finger. They would tell you a lot more information than you would get from weeks of snooping and spying. They gave you everything.

With a gentle bow of your head, you parted ways with the gentlemen and made your way to your cadets. Your role was to train new cadets moved to the military police from the main unit. It was an easy job for you because again it kept your time free and you were around a lot of key members of staff.

The walk through the streets was rather pleasant for you. Compared to the outer walls, the inner city was clean and lively. You could get everything you wanted, but it wasn't everything you needed. Levi and you didn't want to live here as a couple. The two of you dreamed of a quiet cottage in a field by a wood, or by some water.

You did a bit of a shop that looked normal to anyone, just in case you were being watched and followed. You returned to your home, changed your clothes and made your way through the city to your meeting point. It was a sweet quiet spot by a cottage that had been abandoned. The home was a perfect spot for you and Levi if only you two had the time to fix the place up.

"Oi, brat?"

Just hearing Levi's deep voice sent a tingle through you and put a smile on your face. "Levi."

His walk was fast as he made his way over to you. "Tch, it's getting dangerous to do this. You could get hurt. I don't want you getting your shit kicked in." He huffed. "They'd torture you. I'd fucking kill them all if they did. Be careful."

You smiled sweetly at your worried lover. "I know. I'm sorry for worrying you. Would a kiss make you feel better?"

He pouted and looked away. "Fuck, brat. You can't solve everything with kisses, but yes this time I would feel better if I got a few, not one."

You approached your man, linked your arms around his neck and began kissing him over and over. A smile spread over your lips when he grabbed you tightly. The two of you made up for your time apart. The kissing was passionate and was beginning to become heated. Thankfully, you came to your senses before you two did something more.

You released Levi causing him to whine in protest. "Mm, I have something for you."

He walked over to the little spot you always used to sit and talk. It was perfectly under cover from all kinds of weather and anyone going past. It was cosy too, so you could sit close. He slipped his boots off and climbed inside. He got a bit more comfortable.

He sighed. "Ready."

A sweet and loving smile spread over your kissable lips. You presented Levi with some high-end tea, along with a tasty baked treat. "Enjoy."

He studied the tea box. "Fuck, this is impressive. Thank you."

"You're welcome." You cuddled up to Levi. "So, how are things?"

"Everyone is on edge. The kids are nervous. It's hard for them because they're normally so lively and active, but they're being made to stay put in a home together. It's frustrating for them."

You rubbed Levi's chest which instantly soothed him. "You're doing a wonderful job to help them."

"Tch, thanks." He ruffled his hair and glanced at you. "What about you?" He played with your hair and gazed at you with such soft affection. "Your role is so hard."

"Well, I'm doing it for a good cause." You released a long sigh. "It is hard sometimes knowing I'm lying to so many. I'm playing a role and it's hard to know which version of me is the real one." You smiled at Levi. "Then I see you and I know the real me is the one that is with you."

Levi tapped his forehead against yours. "It's a wonderful and perfect you. I like the you that's always shown around me. I love you."

You pressed your lips against Levi's making him happy. "Me too. I like who I am around you. I love you too."

He smiled and held you for a while. He pulled you to lie back with him as you just enjoyed being with each other again. He sighed when he felt the weight of his job growing. "Tch, shit. Could you tell me things going on?"

You hummed a laugh. "Sure." You started informing Levi of things going on in the city and what plans the politicians had and the military police. "They want to put an end to the scouts. Poor Erwin."

Levi growled a little. "He'll be fine."

You smiled a bit knowing your lover was jealous of you mentioning another man. "Well, that's all I have for you. I'm guessing you have to head back. If so, I'll stay here for a while. I need to...just lie here."

Levi hummed. "I'm not going yet. I just want to be with you, just a little longer."

[merryfortune]

to hold a candle for a past flame

August 16th: Reincarnation/Reencounter | Circus | Historical AU

Title: to hold a candle for a past flame

Ship: Entrustshipping | Kiku/Takeru

Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,525

Tags: Angst, Character Death, Mid-Canon, Duel Monster Spirits Are Real, Supernatural Elements

   Takeru was keeping secrets lately and that worried Kiku but… He wasn’t the only one. So was she.

   Honestly, if this wasn’t her lived experience, Kiku wasn’t sure if she would believe her either. It seemed like a severe case of middle school syndrome but it wasn’t. 

   For proof, aside from her memories, she had been having nightmares for as long as she could remember about a wartorn desert with havoc wreaked through it and a fire engulfed, she could feel that smog inside her lungs and the panic that it instilled. She wasn’t making it up, Kiku swears that she is not making it up and not only her mind remembered but her body, too. 

   Nonetheless, because of the stigma, Kiku was certain if she ever told Takeru what weighed on her mind, she would not be believed. It broke her heart but she was certain. Her good, sweet, kind, silly, goofy Takeru who had been with her through thick and thin may very well turn on her and called her a liar for this because he simply would not remember. 

   But she did.

   Takeru had been part of her existence before she could articulate what she could remember. What had begun in a lifetime before them both and continued to burn on inside of her regardless of what she did. If she tried to ignore it or otherwise block it out.

   For you see, Kiku was, very genuinely, one of the rare few who recalled a lifetime from before her own. She was an instance of transdimensional reincarnation.

   In another life, in a previous life, she had lived a long and storied journey as the Valkyria Knight.

   Kiku vividly recalled the harsh training and harsher conditions of that other world, the Monster World. A spiritual plane filled to the brim with monsters and was fraught with danger, an ever cycling push and pull of good versus evil, embroiled in violence where strength was justice. But she, even then, as a little girl, aspired to something better, something kinder, and she honed those ideals alongside the art of war, of swordsmanship and strategy.

   Even now, in this life, her present life, Kiku had been drawn towards martial arts. Hence how she and Takeru’s families became involved at all when they had been children in pre-kindergarten sports but kendo was more clearly her calling than judo. Even as a human child, Kiku showed promise with the bamboo sword as she recalled and drew upon her previous life’s recollection for this new skill. 

   But a fake sword wasn’t as thrilling, or gratifying, as a fake sword. Not to mention, her prodigal markings quickly made her a tall poppy so Kiku dropped the interest but not her interest in Takeru as there was more to her previous story.

   There had been a man. Her lover and her husband, the man who was supposed to have been father of her eventual children. Her army’s commander, their brilliant hero who was going to usher in a glorious and more prosperous, peaceful era: the valiant Phoenix Gearfried. 

   And Kiku was certain, she could still feel that spark - that flame - in Homura Takeru.

   Their love story in that previous life had ended in tragedy. It was as the saying went. The good always died young and Phoenix Gearfried had died in Kiku’s arms- no, Valkyria Knight’s arms and he had looked up unto her and gave her one last mission, “Please, my love, protect me, for the rest of your days.”

   His dying words imparted a mission upon her and Kiku was nothing if not a woman of her word.

   She always was. As a child, as Valkyria Knight. She was serious and earnest, an old soul, and Kiku wanted to serve her lord-husband until the end of her days. Whether it was as Valkyria Knight or as Kamishirakawa Kiku. That was her destiny.

   Though perhaps it was more like a curse.

   Because she knew.

   And no one else did, least of all the youth whom she was certain was her twin flame, Phoenix Gearfried.

   It made sense, perhaps. Their previous life’s love story had ended in tragedy because it had begun in ill. Intercrual fraternising was a taboo even in that other world and Phoenix Gearfried did not want to be distracted from his own mission but she, Valkyria Knight, made him soft.

   Kiku held onto those precious memories of various kisses in the soft, late afternoon sunlight, or holding hands under the tables during war meetings, and more interactions snuck in between their efforts during the campaign. Even now, they made her heart swell but they brought tears to her eyes too due to being so bittersweet. 

   If only Takeru remembered, if only…

   At first, Kiku thought maybe their reincarnation alongside each other in a dreamy beachside town had been a blessing. That it was the gods' ways of apologising that their first lives together as Monsters had gone so awry. That made sense as they were once again brought together by a passion for athleticism, of bettering themselves and their bodies but then things changed.

   The… Incident happened.

   Maybe if it hadn’t happened, the outcome of a hypothetical confession of such cosmic proportions would be different…

   Takeru’s not so safe return from the clutches of such heinous events reignited the fire inside of Kiku: she had to protect him. That was her duty as Phoenix Siegfried’s second-in-command and sergeant but he was a very different boy compared to before.

   He now hated Duel Monsters, he hated Duelling and his once favourite cards of Phoenix Siegfried and Valkyria Knight, and the rest of their fiery armada, were now amongst his most hated things.

   Not once had Kiku ever seen Phoenix Siegfried so rattled. 

   She had seen Phoenix Siegfried storm into battle, fight back when surrounded. He did not endure duress, he thrived in it. He always burned brighter than the fires of conflict around him. Kiku could say much the same of Takeru who looked only after he leapt, who never cried over skinned knees and whose favourite place was the highest part of the jungle gym.

   So to see him so scared, it harrowed Kiku to the very last specks of stardust in her soul. Worse still, she wasn’t allowed to know why. There had never been secrets between her and Takeru: merely pinkie promises that had yet to end in a needle in either of their eyes. Same for Phoenix Siegfried and Valkyria Knight. 

   Yet here they were. Frozen out from another by adults who could not begin to fathom what Kiku knew. It broke her heart then and ten years later, it broke her heart again because something had changed. She was certain something had changed. The way the headwind blew over the ocean, the sparkle in Takeru’s eye.

   There was something new. Renewed. Reincarnated, even but Kiku was still not allowed to know and that made her howl in agony. She was supposed to be Takeru’s confidant, his strongest soldier but instead, she was pushed away. The menial, instead, was pushed onto her.

   That night… Against the bullies… Kiku had not been at Takeru’s side but her card had been in his deck and that mattered close enough, she supposed. That was when the switch was flipped but cardboard was a far cry from flesh and blood so she didn’t know what entailed in said duel. Just that she had been summoned there, she could feel it, every hack and slash, every attack from the depths of Takeru’s soul.

   He had no idea how he had shone, how his past life was reinvigorating him.

   But afterwards, in the morning light, something changed. He had a new deck. One that his old cards and old life were a part of. Something sparkling and new in the sunlight. He would go on to battle with it over and over again and in places as far flung as the big smoke, like Den City.

   Kiku was superficially gladdened that Takeru had direction again. Who wouldn’t be? Except it saddened her. She still wasn’t allowed to know. Takeru was still keeping secrets about what had fundamentally changed him. She just knew that it did, she could hear it in his voice and the way his passion rippled through.

   To not know was worse than knowing, Kiku was certain.

   Especially when her precognition unto Phoenix Siegfried, and by extension, Takeru, led her to the conclusion that something was wrong. Something dire had happened. She could just feel it a la an extrasensory perception and that rattled her. 

   A fearsome battle. Life versus oblivion. A fire extinguished, a gale blew. Kiku got flashes of something beyond her comprehension of how she understood life in superstitions and the supernatural. Grand duels of violent delights which with snuff of extinction. Who? Why? Oh, Takeru, please… Please! Allow her, your darling Valkyria Knight, to aid you in this time of complete crisis.

   She could only sob uncontrollably in her room as she knew - just knew - that she needed to be by Takeru’s side as his sword yet was miles, no, worlds away from him. 

[dejavante]

heartworm | myg

synopsis: "Life always presented unexpected twists and turns; that much was always pretty much guaranteed and inevitable. But you never expected to fall in love with the man held captive in the old snow globe you found in your grandmother’s attic following her passing. If only you’d known your time together was limited, you probably would’ve spent less time throwing snarky and sarcastic remarks his way and would’ve instead confessed the feelings of your heart. It’s been weeks since his disappearance now, and you still can’t adjust to the void he’s left in your life. And no amount of wishing and praying over that snow globe will bring him back…"

↳ pairing: yoongi x reader

↳ genre: modern fantasy type AU! | fluff | a dash of angst but nothing that will have you balling your eyes out, lol

↳ word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is just a little drabble that I've been sitting on for a while now. I've been pretty uninspired lately and haven't been able to finish any of my longer pieces, so I thought maybe I should start off small. I say small, but this drabble is 2.1k words long... anyways, enjoy!

masterlist | asks

You'd hated this place from the moment your grandmother had bought it. There was something about the heavy musk of mould, and the nauseating rose air freshener that your nana would use to camouflage the stench that had you wrinkling your nose in distaste. Or perhaps what repelled you the most was the tedious hike up the cliff that left your legs aching for days to come and the old rickety front door that banged against the frame during its battle with the wind.

While it's true that you'd never done much to hide your dislike of your grandmother's home before, you'd found that there was an unusual calmness to the raging sea – something in its temperamental rocking and in its ruthless habit of violently crashing against the ridged boulders of the coast that painted an odd likeness of tranquillity.

You sit back in your seat with an airy sigh, fingers twisting into the worn material of the blue sweater you don as a means to preserve heat – though this wouldn't be much of a problem if only you could find the strength to tear away from the turbulent scenery to grab the comforter off your bed.

But alas, you can't seem to let your focus stray from the smudged window, not for the growing numbness in your fingers and certainly not for the fatigue that weighs down on you.

For every moment over the last few weeks that you couldn't express your agitations, the storm raging outside granted you a moment of much-needed relief. It helped in soothing the burning flame within, taming your sullen mood.

Your eyes flicker over to the crooked shelf above your bed, sifting through the trinkets you didn't have the heart to throw away before finding what you're looking for. The glass dome of the snow globe has long since lost its shine. Now, it no longer glistens under the dim lighting of the room with the thick blanket of dust that clings to its surface.

At some point, looking at it had become too hard. Remembering the gummy smile that would smile at you from over the glass dome or the baritone voice that droned on about the snowy scenery within, stopped giving you solace and became more like a nightmare. As a result, those nostalgic and intimate moments attached to the snow globe became more fragile than the thin sheen of glass that encircled the world within.

Perhaps that's why you chose to place it on that particular shelf. Because during another day of self-prescribed bed rest, you knew that you couldn't catch sight of that empty snow globe – remembering hurt too much. Although you'd wager that forgetting would amount to equal amounts of pain.

It's a loud clap of thunder that draws you from your long reverie, shooing away the clouds of gloomy thoughts and replacing them with a deep-seated feeling of longing. And oddly, it's in that flicker of emotion that you tried so hard to repress that you finally find the motivation to do more than just mope — to finally confront the reality that you'd been running away from for weeks now. So, with a sigh that is sodden with reluctance and dejection, you urge yourself to move, gaze remaining keenly focused on the object of your affections as you swing your legs off of the window seat and push yourself up.

The aged floorboards creak beneath your weight as you pad sluggishly across the room, singing atrociously off-key until you reach the foot of your bed and crawl on top of the unmade mess of sheets.

You barely manage to untangle yourself from the bedding as you tentatively reach out for the snow globe, allowing your fingers a moment to dance over the dome of glass. The signs of neglect disappear under your touch, and you hoped, a foolish tendency you knew, that as the strings of dust melted away to reveal a clearer view of the snowy scenery within, there would be a change of fate.

But your hope for his return had proved to be futile. Because, yet again, that lone piano sits in the snowy square awaiting a master that will never return to it. Likewise, you wait for a love that slipped through your fingers too early.

Yoongi was far from a perfect man — that much he'd expressed and admitted to you himself on multiple occasions. It was hard to get along with him initially, not with how frantic and frustrated he was with finding an escape from his curse now that he was free from his snow globe prison. And somewhere within his state of near insanity, it wasn't difficult to see that he was simply afraid of being forced to endure that solidarity all over again with no second chance at freedom.

"I'm not scared," He'd bite back, his tone bordering that of a petulant child about to have a tantrum. "You try being holed up in there for so long,"

Though oddly enough, Yoongi would wax poetics about the internal structure of the globe despite his hatred for being trapped within it. With high, frosty skies, bright strung lights, and a mellow atmosphere fabricated for the sole purpose of carrying the soft melody of his piano, he'd said that it bordered perfection.

"It's the sort of place that you share with someone," Yoongi had once explained softly. "It's not built for solidarity,"

The day he disappeared still resonates clearly in your mind as if it'd only occurred yesterday. It plagued your sleep and daydreams, relentlessly taunting you for the words you never dared confess out of fear. Not until it was too late, at least.

You weren't sure why you kept doing this to yourself. It was a system of torture to continue clinging to the idea that perhaps if you fed the snow globe enough of your tears, prayers, and affections, some sort of miracle would happen. Because each and every time, you were left disappointed and with another crack that the fragile mess of your heart was forced to bear during its futile battle against hope. Heaven knows you couldn't handle another battle, not with how close you were to shattering.

The sheets rustle underneath your movement as you shift to sit back on your haunches with the globe cupped securely within the warmth of your palms. For a moment, you're unsure of what to do, the unfamiliarity of the situation finally dawning upon you as you stare intently at the object of your affections.

You'd tried everything to avoid this moment, but you were always pulled back towards it by an invisible force that tempted the longing within you that was no longer satisfied by memories of him.

The glass glistens dully in the room's light as you twist the snow globe in your hold, surveying the snowy territory in all its different angles to perhaps find an abnormality that would lighten the bulb of hope. However, all you find in return is a distorted reflection of yourself in the glass that stares back at you, highlighting your swollen eyes and the hollowness of your cheeks.

You can already hear Yoongi's playful remark about your dishevelled appearance, and the thought garners a soft smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Though it's only a matter of seconds before the moment of bittersweet reminiscing gives away under the pressure of loneliness that quickly settles into your bones. The shift is gradual, languid and done with little effort. You begin to deflate, your shoulders sinking and globing around your frame protectively as you cradle the globe close to your chest.

"I really miss you," You whisper, voice watery and thick with the heaviness of unsorted emotions. "I didn't even get to tell you how much I love you.."

Being hung over someone for such a long time feels almost childish. And though you knew that the complexities of emotions were too far intricate to be dealt with within a matter of weeks, you still felt rather pathetic for torturing yourself this much. Especially with the uncertainty of how Yoongi felt towards you. Though you'd wager that your situation garnered an exception because in no way were your circumstances to be classified as normal.

A dry, humourless laugh bubbles past your lips as you press a palm to your eyes, wiping away the budding tears that blur your vision before the disorienting fog of self-pity can settle any deeper in your mind. You clear your throat and give your head a small shake to refocus yourself as you draw the globe away from your chest, steadying it in one hand as you reach out for the lever in the back with the other.

Under the delicate manoeuvre of your fingers, the cylinder begins to spin, plucking at the teeth of the comb to create a melody that encases each of your senses and casts a wave of nostalgia over you. The music is orchestrated in a subdued register, mellow and silky in its composition as if it were a lullaby. And if there was anything that reminded you of Yoongi the most, it would be this particular song with the way that it flowed effortlessly, engulfing the room in a soft and timid yet harmonious and enigmatic resonance that burst with passion.

You reach for the lever again as soon as the soft, fading echo of the concluding chords finally dies down and allows for a brief moment of comfortable silence. However, before your wrist can complete the first full turn of the mechanical arm again, your ears are flooded with the distant performance of the very same melody that had just faded into the tranquillity of the room.

For a beat, you remain motionless, heart pounding in your chest and mind unable to string together a coherent thought. You were damn near certain that this was nothing but a fabrication of your imagination, taunting you relentlessly for the regret you held and guiding you to the brink of insanity.

As if in a trance, your feet find the floor. Your grip on the snow globe loosens as you stumble towards the door, slipping from your grasp and shattering against the floor. The sound of the breakage bleeds into the background, becoming a second priority to the music you follow out of your room and down the corridor, like a sailor enchanted by a siren's song.

There's a moment as you reach the end of the hall when you flicker back to reality, pausing a mere few centimetres away from the spare room to contemplate the rationality of the situation. It hadn't escaped you that this entire set-up felt almost too good to be true — because in all the weeks of your misery and longing, why now?

But there was no mistaking that melody, not with the level of familiarity that you had with it. Its intricacy, like its composer, was both special and specific. You didn't need to see who the musician at your grandmother's old piano was to know in your heart who it was.

And yet, you find yourself hesitating to step forward and confirm your suspicion. Instead, you stare blankly at the door, heart thundering against your ribcage as you resist the urge to step forward and push the door open. Because even with how much time you'd spent practising and planning the words that you'd say to him if you were ever given a chance to meet again, you were certain that you wouldn't manage to utter a single word.

You don't notice when the music finally fades into the combined quietness of the house, nor do you hear the soft click of the door's mechanism turn as your hearing drowns in the dull and piercing ring that consumes your sense and renders you unbound to your surrounding.

The call of your name seems distant, its hand reaching out into the void of the ocean, where it becomes lost between the flickering of your muted sense as if it were a dream. And you would've gladly accepted it as that if it weren't for the palm that presses to your cheek to coax you back to reality.

You don't expect to be hit at full force by a surge of emotions when you step out of your reverie to meet the eyes of the one calling for you. And while his touch is wholeheartedly welcome, your emotional collapse isn't.

Yoongi offers a gentle smile of reassurance, his hand rising to wipe the trail of tears that slip down your cheeks before your face is cupped within his palms. You make no attempt to stop him as he inclines his forehead against yours, instead welcoming the close proximity he offers by leaning further into the warmth of his touch as he murmurs something indistinguishable to your clouded mind before his lips find yours.

"I love you too,"

all rights reserved © dejavante

the copying, modifying, translating or reposting of any of dejavante's content is under no circumstance permitted.

[mslorelina-blog]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

It was difficult to choose just five (in any of my works I can find something that I like), but here they are:

Children of tyrants - RoChu, Mature, historical hetalia, very modern timeline (late 2010s). This is something I'm most prouf of, considering the extent of research I did (had to become versed in chinese history almost from scratch...). There's a lot of RoChu works in Russian and English, but they rarely are something aside from just fluff and romance and they tend to avoid tackling controversial topics regarding Russia and China's relations in the past and present. So I decided to fix this situation.

Unexpressed - Amerus oneshot, explicit, 90s era, very triumphant Alfred and very confused Ivan. Wrote the entire fic for the last paragraph. It came out very accidental, I didn't do a huge research, was just writing a commission, and boom, this 4 pages sized piece became one of my favourite fics of all time. It seems like it's readers' favourite too.

Shards of Memories - my magnum opus; Rusame, Cold War setting with a retrospective of their relations since the XVIII century. Ivan and Alfred understand they've experienced a memory loss and decide to run away to unravel this mystery with KGB and CIA on their tail. Stopped writing this because of war, hope to get back to it soon, maybe in the end of this year <3

Ashes and Flame - historical Rusame, featuring the aftermath of 9/11 attack. Love this for the same reasons I love "Children of tyrants": had to do tons of research, learned a lot of new info, also writing about relatively modern events (especially revolving around Russia and USA) is always more exciting than about some old uncontroversial stuff.

The tale of the Feud and Loyalty - RusFin, mature, featuring Russia and Finland's relations from 15th to the beginning of 19th century (WIP). Arcticviolet's "Maiden and the Two-headed Eagle" introduced me to RusFin, AND I'M OBSESSED WITH IT SINCE THEN (recommend the work very much, go read it right now). Seriously, this ship is insanely historically-grounded, much more than lots of other popular ships, it's tragic and complex, it deserves more attention! Not to mention, Finnish history deserves more recognition. So here's my small contribution to RusFin fandom, complementary to arcticviolet's work.

[crowpricorn]

Hello!! 5 and/or 13 for the kiss prompts for Wesper?? 👀

questions

5: where it doesn't hurt + 13: discreetly

hi!! 💌 I wrote this in less than half an hour, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless💗💗

Jesper never thought he could spend even a single day without feeling the rush, the pull, the need — to move and keep moving until he got swallowed by the tide, to play and keep playing until he lost everything. His body had been a cage for something that shouldn't have been caged at all, something that kept looking for ways to burst out.

That's how his blessing turned into a curse — and has been a curse all these years, all this time.

Until now that the energy buzzing into his bones is finally unleashed — whenever Jesper shoots (for fun, now, rather than necessity) he knows what he is doing to the bullets, whenever he needs something he tries and make that something. Wylan encouraged him to try and take the colors off some of his paintings. "I will ruin them," he had protested. "You won't," Wylan had stubbornly answered, chin tilted upwards and eyes fierce as flames and kind as the warmest hug.

So, Jesper took all the paint off the canvas, leaving white expanses for Wylan to paint all over again. So, Jesper shaped vases and statues in the Van Eck mansion the way he liked.

The painful, buzzing, deafening scream of energy trapped into his crawling skin has long gone.

And what it left space for, is this: it's Wylan's kisses all over his neck, and when before he had always felt his skin prickle and the intense urge for more, more, more, now there's just the soothing press of lips against skin. The comforting scent of Wylan's clean curls tickling his nose, the caress of his breath against his throat. He is not as sensitive to touch as he was before, not so desperate — he is there and he is present and he revels in the embrace of his lover.

At the beginning it was all wanting more and getting too much, not knowing how to ask and how to plead for Wylan to stop — when his skin got too sensitive, when he felt his bones pushing against his skin like they wanted to burst out. It hadn't been his bones — it had been his gift, all that bottled up energy that finally, finally Jesper allowed into his life. And when he did, what had always been a rush, a thrill, a too much, became slow, comforting, soothing.

Wylan grazes his teeth against Jesper's collarbone, and everything Jesper feels is the graze of teeth against skin — not sparks of energy that send him fidgeting and squirming, not rushes of incoherent thoughts to his brain. Just this: his boyfriend kissing his naked skin and Jesper not aching from it anymore. Aching for it, rather.

"Don't leave marks," Jesper urges when Wylan bites into the swell of his throat. What he earns is Wylan's devilish, smart smile, and that also soothes Jesper. He is seen, he is loved and held, he is free from the cage of his body and mind.

"They don't show on your skin," Wylan retorts, pouting a bit until Jesper physically has to lean down and kiss Wylan for it. Kiss Wylan because he wants and loves to, and not because his body needs to have that too much feeling that was killing it — too many games, too much risk, too much asked from Wylan that ended up in both of them sobbing and Jesper shamefully explaining that, apparently, he didn't know his limits. He does now. He does because his body is not poisoned anymore — it is there, alert but also peaceful, and it doesn't ache anymore.

"I have seen too many councilmen stare at my neck to believe you. Plus, we are meeting Kaz in half an hour."

Wylan groans, brows furrowing in displeasure. "They can suck my—"

"Merchling!" Jesper laughs, and that also comes easy: a genuine laugh punched out of his chest. Not forced, not hysterical, not too much. Real, full of love and surprise.

Wylan surges up to capture Jesper's lips in a biting kiss that, in a matter of seconds, turns soft and heart-warming and mind-blowing. The kind of kiss that grounds Jesper and riles Wylan up until his hands roam through his boyfriend's whole body. Which is what he does now. He presses Jesper harder against the shelves of the library and he kisses him like he wants to kiss the hurt away — like if there's something of that poisonous restraint in Jesper's body, he can just kiss him like a prayer and let it go away for good.

Jesper melts into the kiss and touches, anchoring himself to the feelings before he can float away from his body. Before, he was too caged in his body that he had to constantly shift his attention to something else, something more. Now, he feels so at ease under his own skin that he risks getting lost into the warmth and peace. It's not easy to find a balance, not for Jesper at least, but he tries.

Slowly, Wylan's hands come up to cup his cheeks and he deepens the kiss, panting against Jesper's mouth and then digging down again, bruising his neck until Jesper can do nothing else but moan and cling to the man he loves. He is about to curl his tongue around a moan of Wylan's name, as his boyfriend gently kisses his bruised neck, when they both stop.

A creak.

Voices from downstairs, probably the staff welcoming their guest.

Of course Kaz is early.

They raise their heads so fast that Jesper hits his against a shelf, rushing to put his shirt back on and trying to button it up before Kaz can open the door.

When he will, he'll find Wylan laughing to himself, hand in hand with a Jesper with his shirt buttoned unevenly and a bit crooked, and with a neck covered in darker or redder marks that they both know Kaz will notice. He will open the door to find Jesper happy, grounded, loved and in love, making room for sensations when before it was only hurtful sensitivity and ache.

For now, Jesper pushes Wylan off and Wylan comes closer to pepper his face with kisses while Jesper fumbles to button his own shirt. For now, Wylan kisses Jesper like a promise and laughs against his lips until all Jesper feels is not the rush, the thrill, the urge, but the unspoiled, soothing love.

[iamafanofcartoons]

Fatherhood in RWBY: How they managed to create our team of protagonists through their actions - Taiyang Xiao Long

Fatherhood, as most people who at least have a cursory understanding of psychology, is crucial for the formation of a child's sense of self. The question 'Who is my father' is one that every child will at least ask once, during a teenager's angst, or a child's honest question, and it shapes their children in ways both predictable and unpredictable.

For single mothers who raise their children alone, the question 'who is my father' can at the very least raise the question even further later in life, when the mother replies with 'I don't know' or 'that man is your father, but we are no longer together'. The question later in life, especially when the children have their own children, rises. 'Who is my father's father'?

In RWBY, we see that it is mostly is the absent mother figure, biological or non-biological that comes across as a foundation for their daughters (Talking about team RWBY), in order to create a sense of identity for their daughter.

I will outline some of my thoughts, and invite people to have a civil debate. It is a discussion that should be had, because I had the idea for this post a few days ago after seeing an errant comment on the Summer Rose post, by someone I consider a friend. He's kind of into water-based propulsion.

The reason for this post, is to outline some views on how Taiyang was as a father, from what we can glean from the RWBY episodes that he is in, and comments made.

This post is in no way intended to 'flame' or 'harass' or 'defile the intention of this sub'. People might like to know more about things.

Fatherhood: How the fathers shaped their children.

Taiyang Xiao Long

Most of the people here seem to venerate him as some paragon who got two wives, had two daughters and who was 'the man' in Beacon. Some people even call him 'Chad', which, using most of my experience in life (Quite a bit, I am a bit older than the average 20-something-year-old here), does not seem to be the case.

Ruby easily gets along with her father, whilst Yang bears at least a slight grudge towards him, however subtle it may seem. Her speech to Blake about 'searching for her mother' indicates that her father was not present after Summer Rose died/was listed MIA.

To say that that was not a forming experience for a young girl like Yang, would be to deny reality. A father that she trusted and loved and expected to be there for her, was no longer available in her life. He 'shut down', as it was, and became a husk of his former self.

A girl like Yang is expressive and shows herself as a daring, go-getting individual, who wants to meet challenges and overcome them. She is someone who does not quit, who has to overcome and move forward, a steady theme in RWBY's storytelling.

Now, to speak about Taiyang's role as a father, before his shut-down. We know nothing about that era. I am not assuming that any comic form is 'canon' or 'accurate', due to the mutability and retconning of the comic media. Even official published work is rejected, because it does not deal with Taiyang as a father.

Taiyang, likely, was a man who burned brightly, like his daughter does. He was present enough in her early life to give her that will to continue, even whilst he was engaged in a sexual relationship with Summer Rose, who accepted the Mother-role.

We are allowed to assume that Taiyang and Summer never married. Raven was his wife, as stated by Amity Arena. Divorcing is a lengthy process and it is not as easy to provide undeniable evidence in a setting such as Remnant, that Raven abandoned Yang.

Before the people start to complain and immediately go 'But there was true love involved, Raven was a b-word', let me continue with my line of reasoning: Huntsmen are generally out in the field for weeks to months at a time, and the CCT network does not seem to have full coverage of the planet, or at the very least, not be consistent, though there was a broadcast visible in what seems to be Menagerie with Ilia in V8.

Raven could be 'out on a mission' without telling her spouse. That is her right as a Huntsman. Divorce under such circumstances, would likely not be allowed.

It also shows to us that Taiyang is not the greatest at making decisions that involve his love life. Raven married him, actually going through the ceremony enough to become Raven Xiao Long, from the Branwen tribe. Summer Rose came along after Yang was born and Raven had recovered enough post-child-birth (which is from 3-5 months, I have heard from the hospital's maternity ward, due to bleeding and post-natal care for the mother's innards, since uteral collapse is a danger), leaving to birth Ruby, who was, according to Eddy Rivas, 15 before Beacon, 16 when she joined Beacon as a student.

People may immediately assume that I am making that deduction because I do not like the circumstances there, or that I am 'defaming the great Taiyang Xiao Long'. I am not. I am pointing out that he had an infant there, his daughter, who Summer was taking care of with him, with Qrow being involved as well, supposedly.

One does not easily 'get in the mood' when one is caring for a child. During the first two years of a child's life, most parents are dead tired due to waking up in the night to give a baby its bottle. Summer got pregnant, somehow, and she birthed a child later.

It is too early for Taiyang's divorce to be finalized, if it was ever mentioned at all. We can safely assume that he is still married to Raven, though not acknowledging it. It is not like the matrilineal naming scheme is in effect in Remnant, so he would not assume the name of his wife, though his daughter Ruby, seems to be fully able to have her own name be 'Rose' as a sign of her status of being conceived out of wedlock.

Once more, knowing the type of reaction that that engenders from people who have little to no experience with marriage or laws regarding marriage: Children cannot legally change their name unless it is court-mandated, so we can deduce from that that Taiyang had not married Summer Rose.

Which is a bad choice, if one looks at it. It speaks of compromised judgment, when one immediately chooses another woman who they are affectionately on good terms with, as the replacement mother for their child, and begetting a child with her.

A child is a massive responsibility. A child is your legacy, your future, and Taiyang's failing starts to show when he impregnated Summer Rose with Ruby Rose. He had one daughter of a mother who abandoned the two of them, and now he has conceived another.

Not to say that it does not also create a bond between his daughters and him, but we are working our way up from decisions that he, as an adult male over the age of 21, a huntsman of some skill, has made.

Summer Rose dies on a secret mission and he is devastated. His daughters nearly end up as Grimm food with only a timely save from Qrow, another father figure, who will be regarded in another post, should this be deemed 'interesting enough' to become a series.

If you think that a depressed man, mourning the wife that left him and her replacement who birthed him two beautiful daughters, is any paragon of virtue and wholesomeness, I have serious doubts about the ability of the reader to discern between good and bad parenting.

As a father or mother, you take responsibility for the child you put on this world. Shutting down is not a right response, and he might have committed suicide if Qrow had brought the bodies of his two daughters home. That, we can infer, from V2's statement by Yang to Blake.

How did it shape Yang?

Yang is the most expressive member of team RWBY. The extrovert, who seems to have a lust for life and an eternal burning thirst for adventure and progress, to do what she feels is right and to be the 'sunny little dragon' she is named for.

Having to take upon her shoulders the role of 'mother' and 'Wife' for Taiyang after he shut down and they were left alone with only Qrow taking missions, it shaped her into the figure we see today. More-so in the first few volumes, we see that she is fairly selfless, yet willing to be forward and rather open with how she is, with little thought about the future, living in the here and now.

People will disagree with me here, but this is the 'persona' that Yang has crafted in order to remain the beacon of light in the Xiao Long household. She is not hiding her true self at all, but she is keeping up the expectation of being 'Taiyang's daughter', so as to properly rear Ruby.

Ruby is one of the foci of Yang's life. She raised Ruby as her daughter of sorts, even though they were children of near-similar age. She is the most important thing to Yang, over even her father. Her confidence and her sunny personality also shatter when faced with a severe blow to herself, as losing her arm caused her to show a Taiyang-level depression, with the PTSD that comes with it.

It shows that father and daughter are the same, which I will continue to outline further. It is likely that behind the confident, push-forward demeanour that she shows, with her casual and flippant attitude, there lies a more matronly, serious Yang that does not feel the intense rage that gives her her temper.

We can deduce from Taiyang's own intimacy with Yang's fighting style, that they are both brawling-type of individuals, who probably share more than a few tics. He was able to coach her during the episode before she left, and she left with a confidence that seemed unshaken, but was also out of commission in a similar-level blackout as Taiyang.

It is likely that the more matronly and caring side of her only emerges when she feels comfortable around individuals, preferring to leave the mask of 'Yang, Daughter of Taiyang' on whilst she re-evaluates the situation. Her father would likely do something similar, given how much they apparently seem to have in common.

However, the effect on Yang is also, that she is in search of her mother, due to her father's likely comparison of Yang and Raven. Knowing the effects of depression on a man and Qrow's propensity for liquor to forget bad things, Yang would likely have had a few insults thrown her way, or had to cradle her father whilst he hugged her in a drunken stupor asking 'Raven' why she left.

That is normal behaviour for widowers and non-voluntary divorcees who genuinely loved their wife. I am not assuming that Yang's conception was 'forced' in any way, since he married Raven Branwen.

Most of what Yang says about her father is that he was dad, and that he was a cool dad, with him being unafraid to poke the elephant in the room with the typical bluntness that we come to expect from Yang. He is, like her, a straightforward individual.

His recovery into something functional again, seems to have come around before Yang entered Combat School, which likely caused her personality to remain the 'sunny boisterous brawler' that we all know, with no more real need for her to be Ruby's mother.

His overprotectiveness after their harrowing encounter likely has made Yang a little more hesitant to fully confide in her father. Mothers tend to bond better with their daughters, and him being shut-down, as per her words, would not really create a tight-knit bond.

However Taiyang shaped Yang into the woman she is now, a bright girl who keeps moving on, one Grimm at a time.

Ruby Rose: The conundrum of being upstaged by your brother-in-law

That Ruby Rose seriously admires her uncle is a given, given her interactions with her non-related uncle, his fondness of both of his nieces and the like, yet we do not really delve into the specifics of how he influenced his adoptive niece in this segment. This is about Taiyang, the primary father for Ruby and Yang, yet he is at least, a figure that pops up frequently.

Taiyang, given of what we know of Ruby's early childhood, was absent for most of the formative years, since Summer's death. We do not know how aware Ruby was during her early years, but with Yang as a mother and Qrow as an uncle, it is pretty obvious that she considers Qrow to be somewhat more of a father figure than her own father.

That poses a problem. Yang, her older sister by 1.5 years (If we can believe Eddy Rivas), is someone who is extroverted, whereas Ruby is shy and introverted and 'kind of a geek' with a 'dash of social awkwardness'.

We see little of Taiyang in Ruby's behaviour. She does not have the depressive disposition of her sister or her father. She is eternally optimistic and forward-moving, as her mother might have also been.

She seems to be spared from the Xiao-Long trait of being boisterous and wearing scandalous jackets, at least, on a funny note. Corsets or nothing.

She thinks he is a good father, and she loves him as her father, but we are not given enough context on how he was her father. She feels closer to Qrow, and we are given a massive clue about how that went down with the last episode of V3.

Qrow and Taiyang are at the same place, at the same time. Qrow and Taiyang share a moment in Ruby's room that can be considered somewhat uncomfortable, with the two having a momentary stare-off. It is fairly obvious that Taiyang, in his own way, somewhat resents Qrow for being the more parental figure to Ruby, his daughter.

Ruby is closer to Qrow than she is to Taiyang. That Taiyang is a little overprotective of his daughters, is shown frequently in his body language and how he reacts, likely after the Grimm tried to kill his daughters.

Ruby Rose was affected in a lesser manner by Taiyang's presence, since 'Uncle Qrow' fascinated her and she wanted to be 'cool' like him.

Her likeness in personality and appearance to Summer Rose, likely causes the man some pain due to the loss he suffered.

Fatherhood: A conclusion (Until more is known)

It is not by our will, that we are given flesh. A man is but a miserable pile of secrets, and Taiyang is nothing but a secret wrapped in some enigma.

We do not know whether he dated anyone else, to give his daughters a mother figure. We do not know whether he had to languish until Yang was nine to recover from his mental breakdown. The time period is too vague, but you do not simply 'recover' from a depressive mental breakdown swiftly. It is step-by-step.

His effect on his daughters, at the least, was formative in that they became the protagonists that we know and love right now.

A flawed man, struggling with an emotional shutdown. A flawed man, who nearly lost his daughter. A flawed man, who married one wife, only to betray that oath to her with another after less than two years had passed, to birth the heroine of this series.

He is not the 'sex god' that people proclaim him to be. In fact, I would assume that he is almost certainly sexless in his life, unless he has somehow managed to hide a relationship from both of his daughters.

His marrying of Raven Branwen was the catalyst for Yang to be born. His relationship with Summer ended up with Ruby being born, and he failed his daughters by shutting down.

The effects of his style of parenting and overprotectiveness to shield his children from harm (likely post-Grimm expedition) have led to Ruby and Yang becoming individuals who keep on moving forward, because their father stopped moving forward after Summer died, and is only slowly recovering to become a man and a father again.

I am not a wise man, nor am I a sagely woman. I am someone who studied, who learned and who got a little paper that states that I am an expert in something.

Oftentimes, people here venerate the motherly Summer Rose, who took in a child that was not her own and became a mother, without realizing that a father was equally important in that role.

It is through our folly, that we realize that we are human, and Taiyang is still very much a human in his own way.

Recovering from what was a depressive shut-down, possibly alcoholism, and turning his life around to be a father to Yang, when it had been mostly Qrow likely keeping the family afloat, is an admirable goal.

I do not hate, despise or loathe the man, no matter what people seem to assume. I think he was instrumental in creating the Yang we know. The Yang who said 'I'll beat them up' and 'Strawberry sunrise', who was bold and fearless and depressive, once her arm was removed.

His Volume 4 interactions with his daughter are very loving, caring, yet they do not wash away the years that she had to be the wife of the family, the mother figure to Ruby. He was, however, her father.

Every growing teenager will 'loathe' their parents for their perceived 'restrictions', or at least I remember my own time. Yang, likely, had more than a few restrictions, yet she expresses herself forwardly.

He was a passable father, in her later teens, when he had his life in order.

Ruby was much less affected by Taiyang, yet she considers him her father, even if he does ground her for life upon her return.

He made up for his faults, and that is admirable for a man who seems to have had misfortune after misfortune happen to him.

Yang and Ruby are not fully grown matured teenagers yet, but they have inherited their father's will and good nature. Given how reserved they are about any kind of relationship, it is likely that Taiyang was the warning that they needed to never ever get into a stable relationship with someone, due to witnessing how their father just crashed and burned, before he rose from the ashes like a burning phoenix.

Our fathers shape us. Our mothers birth us. It is a good statement to make, to say that Ruby and Yang both know and love their father for all his faults, and that he has been forgiven by them for breaking down and not being the father that they needed.

He was their father, be it biological or adoptive. To them, he is their father, regardless. We know little about Summer Rose, we know reasonably much about Raven Branwen, but about the father-figures in the picture in RWBY, we know entirely too little.

Final closing words

It is important that these things are discussed. Thousands of discussions about RWBY's mothers are had, with wild theories and headcanons emerging, but there is little attention to the fathers of RWBY, and how they have impressed their own situation on their daughters.

Anyone who says that fathers do not have a place in their daughters' lives, or that Cyanide is talking about irrelevant things that do not matter: You are being prejudiced against men. This place is not a place to immediately say 'men are unfit to be mentioned' and then avoid dialogue.

That is not how civil debate goes.

I am saying that as someone who has studied the humanities.

Fathers, and men, are important. Don't bury that message with hatred and immediate rebuttals of 'men are evil'. People are created by a man and a woman having relations, and one cannot exist without having had a man and a woman engage in reproduction.

Let us keep things civil, and if I am wrong, I am sure that you will engage me in a mature debate.

I am holding out hope that this place has not turned into a dystopia where the freedom of speech is squashed under the boot of intolerance, where people who simply do not agree are vilified as evil, and those who simply wish to show a different view, with their own experiences/education, can be allowed to enlighten others with their takes on things.

I am not a rock that is worn by the erosion of time, I am a flesh and blood being, so if I am wrong, I am willing to say 'Mea Culpa' and be open to changing my mind.

A closed mind, is a very dull and boring place.

So, what do you think of this post?

Source link from  https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/pkm0m3/fatherhood_in_rwby_how_they_managed_to_create_our/ By https://www.reddit.com/user/CyanideSins/

[hey-michael-young-history]

Imōto

Something that I casually work on because i love Jakeda so much.

When Jacqui Briggs Takahashi took stock of her life, she realized that, despite the traumatic events, she was pretty fortunate. 

She was comfortable in her skin as an Alpha, satisfied with her career, married to an amazing man, beat the odds to have a beautiful daughter with that amazing man, and perhaps most importantly, was able to contribute to her father finding light in the world again. 

Her life wasn't perfect but it was manageable. For the first time in a very long time, she and the people in her life could focus on happiness, not solely on survival. 

Tonight, she was sitting on a swinging bench, in the most comfortable kimino, overlooking a small waterfall with her husband. Her father offered to take Makaira for the weekend and suggested that they take a trip, courtesy of his new boyfriend, who still blushed deeply at being referred to as such. 

Jacqui loved being in Japan, loved seeing Takeda comfortable in his childhood home amongst the Shirai Ryu. Hanzo Hasashi was the ideal father-in-law, always welcoming with such comforting pheromones that stayed with her, no matter where she was in the Fire Gardens. His love easily grew to embrace not only Jacqui, but Makaira as well. 

Kuai Liang was much more reserved but a true Omega who clearly pushed past his discomfort to try being as warm and welcoming as Hanzo. Jacqui remembered that flicker of warmth present when they first met. Now, it was a full flame, cautiously extended to everyone in Hanzo’s life. When Jacqui thought about how good they were for each other, she wondered if she and Takeda were selfish for loving each other and not finding Omegas to help. 

I don’t care if it’s selfish. I love you. Takeda smiled as he touched her knee, then pulled her close. 

How dare you trespass in my mind, she thought, wrapping her arms around him. 

I can’t resist a beautiful mind.

Takeda and his cheesy lines. Should we go find Hanzo and Kuai and invade their dinner plans?

His pheromones muted as he stiffened. Just for a second before he caught himself. No, they’ve got the baby now…

Lì-Yán, Jacqui corrected. And they could probably use some help with her. Or at least some company. 

Hanzo never said it, but Jacqui caught on to the fact that Kuai Liang wasn’t doing well. Pregnancy was a unique experience and the months afterwards could be a hell that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. She got through those months with loving family, supportive friends, and the luxury of preparing for it during her pregnancy– Kuai Liang got the short end of all of that. He had to put all of that to the side to save the realms. 

“I’m sure they’re fine. Hanzo finally has his own kid, I don’t want to disturb them,” Takeda mumbled. 

Hanzo, not “Papa-san.” Jacqui sat up and pulled his head to her chest. “Takeda, don’t say that, babe.”

“Well, he’s not my dad,” he insisted. “My actual dad chose to fight a crime syndicate rather than stick around for me… and still isn’t interested in sticking around for my kid, clearly. and Pap– Hanzo has his own kid to think about.”

Takeda pulled away from her and hung his head. “He shouldn't have to keep taking over for my dad. And I don't want the baby to miss out because he's trying to fix me.”

“Lì-Yán. It’s okay to say her name,” Jacqui teased. 

His pheromones became heavy with the scent of rainfall. She was sorry immediately. “I know, Jacqui.”

“Sorry,” she offered, squeezing his arm. 

“I know it doesn’t make sense but… so much changed when Ice Pop came into the picture…”

“Like us getting pregnant and moving in with Muscle Dad?”

“Just… for so long, everybody was so afraid of Papa-san. So it would just be me and him. And then after the… Havik thing… it was just me and him. Chiyoko was there but she didn’t reveal herself to us for weeks… and…” He frowned as words fled his mind. 

He was wary of Chiyoko at first. That she would distract Hanzo from rebuilding, from him. But Chiyoko was kind, despite the bitter ash of her pheromones and just as focused as Hanzo himself. 

Hanzo Hasashi’s heart belonged to his wife, his Omega, his one true love. And the son who never grew. 

Until that day Takeda knocked on his door and smelled another Omega all over the place. Then, the sweets that Hanzo ordinarily stored for Takeda became Kuai Liang’s. He had to swallow his pride and say he didn’t mind if Hanzo couldn’t officiate his wedding because of Kuai Liang. They never fished or sparred or did anything outside of Shirai Ryu duties because of Kuai Liang. 

But it was fine because Takeda could at least cherish the fact that no one else got to be Hanzo Hasashi’s chosen heir. The pride of the Shirai Ryu. 

Except now… the baby existed. Somehow. How did a male Omega have a kid? How did those two geezers–

Takeda quickly blanked his mind before his mind could take him into the place where his platonic sexual questions were intercepted with his platonic acquaintances. 

The baby was all he ever heard about. Even in America. Watching Kenshi dote over Makaira– when he did show up– was hard enough. But hearing him discuss Hanzo’s baby and referring to her as his niece– it was the final straw. The baby came in and ruined everything for him. 

And he was so stupid to still be so stuck on Kenshi. He was supposed to let it go. To either forgive or shun. Every time he thought he was close, he saw his mother’s worried face telling him it was time to go and he had to go alone. 

“Hey.” At some point, Jacqui had pulled his head onto her chest. Now, she was patting his arm and sitting him up. “You look like you could use some air.”

“We’re already outside.”

“Some different air. Let’s go.”

[its-chelisey-stuff]

The Legend of Anle eps 21-30 (thoughts& feels!!)

I don’t know why they released this happy poster that had nothing to do with these last eps lol they tricked me! I feel tricked!

What a rollercoaster. Even if I don’t exactly like the direction the drama took, I have to admit it got the plot moving a lot more than the last 10 eps. So let’s recap: Prince found out the truth, got a little cheeky and passive-agressive about it, throwing hints left and right. He went on a date with Anle. The two fell into a trap and off a cliff, then took care of each other (arguably the most romantic eps of the show so far), then they forgot about returning home and stayed there for a few days while everyone else was worried sick looking for them hahaha

And then they got rescued against their will and things went bananas. Anle revealed herself as Ziyuan and everything went angsty weepy sad eyes. Dowager Empress died. HanYe got emo and depressed, then he snapped and killed someone and now Luo MingXi knows Ziyuan’s brother is alive, but because he’s truly the worst, he still won’t tell her hahaha I mean HanYe not telling her is one thing, I guess, but LMX? why? cuz he sucks! and his love for her is conditional. If he can’t be the one to present her with the solutions or the shoulder to lean on, then he won’t give her something that makes her happy, because in his eyes he’d be indebted to someone else that’s not him and he cannot allow that. He said it himself, he’s selfish! He cannot die soon enough.

A list of things I loved the most no sad Crown Prince on my list btw:

Ziyuan&HanYe living together in some magical valley where days looked fake af and nights looked like fairy tales. They should’ve made out at the very least, by the look of things we won’t have a kiss until the last ep, if ever.

Ziyuan told WenShuo he can be her little brother (!!!!! girl if only you knew!!) and also, they bonded a bit more in these eps, yay! Why is HanYe not saying anything to any of them??

Luo Mingxi was arrested and tortured (sorry not sorry, I hate him :P)

My sweet Crown Prince became a hot murderer lol. Made a whole post about it.

Meanwhile MoBei or Lengbei or whatever is planning the most boring and slowest invasion in the history of wuxias, with zero charisma on his side. It’s almost like he got too invested in the whole Anle is Ziyuan drama that he has forgotten his mission with all the tea happening at court. Maybe he is a shipper as well and the angst has completely slowed down his plans. Unlikely? Yes, but not impossible lol 

But we can’t blame him. It happens when you’re not the main protagonist and just a secondary character exclusively invented for the show forced to be the ultimate baddie but writers don’t care enough about you to give you a personality. Also, someone get him away from Anning!!! arghh!!!

I hated to see Crown Prince being lovesick and like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. I mean, technically he had one. Ugh.stupid Gong Jun and his sad puppy eyes But I know that, for every scene I watch of him suffering, I have to push through to see Ziyuan suffer unbearable pain because she took him for granted for far too long.

I remember posting once, when the trailer came out, that at the very least I’d be enjoying how pretty the drama was, starting with OTP. And I got what I wanted, but at what cost? Anyway, I made it this far and I actually watched Gong Jun’s The Flaming Heart (which was truly plotless and the FL behaved like a 10 year old, truly haunting given she was a doctor). In here till the end! lol

[myrammmortal]

Chapter 39, either the writing has gotten better or this is the hacker chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own the HP series and I am not the real XXXbloodyrists666XXX.

AN// I am an extremely immature pathetic idiot girl, I know. Out of boredom, I crack this girl's passy for fun (and it took less than 8 minutes to do it too) and will probably get in a shitload of trouble. Which I probably deserve 'cause I'm being a troll right now. Meh.

And I present to you MY crappy part in this story. (And take note I haven't even finished reading this fic yet, but instead skip over to skim chapter 38.) Flame, laugh, do whatever you want "preps."

I, the American retail wearing british-german vampire Sue, coughed up blood.

Satan kneeled down beside me.

"Noooooooooooooooo! Don't die!"

I gave him a rueful smile. "I'm sorry. It's something I had to do, to fufill my duty as the noble gothic Mary Sue."

Satan sobbed. "I love you Paul Darkness Omnipotentia Brick Face Landers."

"I love you two. I'll...I'll see you in hell." I mumbled, already finding my surroundings fading to black.

Frau Schneider suddenly popped into the room for no apparent reason. She frowned when she realized the room was oddly quiet, but at the sight of Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers' lifeless body, she screamed. Her face became pale with horror. She screamed for the healers, Daddy Till, Mcgoogle, and every single gothic person she could think of. It was a long, long, long, long, long, list. Still not sure why her parents old neighbours were here.

Suddenly, a glow started to surround the body of Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers. Everyone stared in shock. Her body started to lift ever so slowly and then, to everyone's shock, it started to incinerate.

When everyone realized what was happening, they rushed over to try to rescue the body, but it was too late, the Sue became nothing more then a pile of ashes.

A loud resounding of everyone bellowing "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...!!" filled the room.

A flash of white light from the ashes then started to bounce around the room. Everyone cowered in fear and were temporarily blinded. When it was all over, things changed.

All the silly goth clothes dropped from everyone's bodies (AN//I will refuse to explain how the hell that happened. EN: thank goodness because I don't want to know) and, in their place, clothes the characters would normally wear in canon appeared on their bodies.

When everyone got over the shock of becoming free of the gofick power, everybody cheered. Everyone started singing 'Ding dong the sue is dead...' Well, that is, until all the HP characters realized the true implications of becoming more canon like again.

All the characters who were supposed to be dead fell to the floor, their bodies cold and lifeless. Harry and Voldemort started dueling. On the left side of the two, the battle of the Light Side and the Dark Side were reaching a climax.

And, because the replacement author also likes to screw around with canon, Richard and Frau Schneider fled the scene and got married.

Meanwhile...

Down in hell, Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers shed a single tear because of her current situation. A situation that would live on for all eternity. Or at least until the end of fanfiction time.

She lost it all, but she knew she had to remain strong. Nothing would ever break her down.

She looked down over her pale body, and frowned. 'Where are my emo clothes?' She asked herself in confusion.

And then it occured to her...

For her shirt, she was wearing a bright pink polo with a little seagull on the (right or left? I can't remember) side. Below that, she was wearing a denim miniskirt with the "destroyed" look on it. Paired underneath that skirt were leggings with a little moose at the bottom. And then Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers realized, on her shoulder, she was carrying a pretty bag with an eagle on it that said Live Your Life written all over the bag.

Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers supressed the urge to scream. Here she was decked out in clothes prep to the extreme wearing stuff from Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle, AND Hollister.

Panicked, Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers hastily tried to take off the Hollister polo, but underneath it, there was another Hollister polo underneath. Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers frowned, and looked under her shirt. All she saw was a bra underneath (dare I point out it's from the Aerie line available at American Eagle?). Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers tried to remove the shirt again. But to her frustration, there was yet again another polo to replace it. Every polo more preppy and pink than the last.

"THIS IS UNLOGICAL AND DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE!!" Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers bellowed out to the air. She failed to see the irony in her statement, how hypocrytical her words were, seeing as she was practically calling the kettle black here.

Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers slit her writs and mumbled to herself, "Omigod."

/End Crap Fic.

AN// Oh yeah, if you wanna see the original content this chick had planned for this chapter, I accessed it through the document manager thingy, which I copied and pasted, so you can read it tomorrow

Editors Note: Thank you to whoever added the smallest bit of sanity to my perfect hell. I wish the whole "story" would've ended here but then again, I can't live without Daddy Till, Evil Twin of Flake, Sometimes Flake, Frau Schneider, Oliver Who Was Once Named Navel, Richard and Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers.