#THERE WERE TWO VERY GOOD OPPORTUNITIES IN BOTH ROUTES

[mydarlingclaudia]

and if we had a moment, could you face it?

note : this didn’t really turn out the way I wanted it to be but I’m still kinda ok with it. mdni

wc : 2.6k

desc : you finally decide it’s time to take you and Leon’s relationship to bed. smut!! - riding (p in v), fingering, established relationship, not proofread, pet names (baby), fem!reader, ID!Leon

If there hadn't been construction going on along the main route you took to get back to your apartment from work, you wouldn't have met Leon. You decided to go a different way that night, you walked to and from work most days, so it wasn't much of a difference. Leon had run into you, literally, when he rounded the street corner without seeing you and stumbled into you, not knocking you over, but instead spilling his coffee all over your blouse. You didn't know why he was drinking coffee at five p.m. at first, but you later found out that it was because he had been in a rush to go do more work for the DSO and that he needed to be awake for it. That didn't stop him from stopping what he was doing and awkwardly trying to help you clean off your blouse.

Leon ended up walking you back to your apartment, offering to buy you a new blouse even after you told him he didn't need to. After a few minutes of you assuring him it wasn't a big deal, he backed down, smiled at you, wished you goodnight, and left. He completely forgot to ask you out to dinner.

He did get the opportunity to ask you out, though, when he ran into you a few weeks later at the grocery store. Leon had been expecting another rejection, but you had simply smiled and said yes. Hearing you say yes made the rest of his week, he didn’t know what made you say agree to a date with him, but whatever it was, he was happy about it.

Leon had tried to be a bit more gentlemanly to you on the night of your date, thinking about how close he had been walking next to you, trying not to pull on a push door, doing his best not to scare you off. He really wanted this to go well, he thought you were pretty, and you had already given him a chance, so that had to be a good sign, right? He hadn’t been on an actual date in what felt like years (because it had actually been years), and even if the two of you didn’t become an item, he still wanted to take you out on a couple of nice dates.

One date turned to two, then two to three, then three to seven, and now Leon can’t get you off his mind. The two of you were very obviously attracted with each other, but you both had your own fears about dating one another. You were worried that you’d put a bunch of time and effort into the relationship only for him to discover he didn’t want to be with you and leave, and Leon was worried that his job would scare you away or that you’d find all of the problems he carried around everywhere he went to be a burden and that he wasn’t worth it. But you didn’t think he was a burden, and he was determined to stick this out with you for as long as you’d let him.

Leon was at your beck and call, as long as he was in town. He felt embarrassed for liking you so much so early on in your relationship, but when you flirted back with him, he swore he could feel his heart stop for a second before he came back at you with something cheesier to say, he couldn’t really say no to you.

You liked Leon a lot, and you knew he liked you, but his job did scare you a little bit. Not that you knew much, but you knew it was dangerous. As your dates with Leon grew in number, he assured you that he wouldn’t put you in any kind of danger, and you believed him.

It’s been a little over seven months now, Leon was willing to take this as slow as you wanted, the two of you had only ever kissed, barely even made-out, really. Leon wasn’t around all the time, you knew that would happen when you started dating him, but he always tried his best to make up for lost time when he got back to you.

You just wanted to jump his bones sometimes. He’d sit across from you at dinner, the top two buttons of his shirt left unbuttoned, revealing just enough of his collarbone for you to want to see everything else. Or when he’d put his hand on your thigh when he sat down next to you, or just letting his hand rest on your waist. There were a lot of things, really.

You knew Leon felt the same. You’d catch him staring for too long when you wore a tank top with a neckline that dipped down a bit too far, he wouldn’t even apologize when you caught him, he’d just smirk a tiny bit, glance down again, then go back to what he was doing a few moment before.

Leon did want to take things a bit slow with you, but he also knew that there was something missing from his relationship with you. But he wanted you to be absolutely sure you wouldn’t regret anything. You knew he was nervous about it, sex was a topic that the two of you didn’t talk about a lot, you really only spoke about it in jokes, but you knew he was being serious when he said he could rock your world.

Leon’s been in meetings for most of the week, but he cleared time to take you to this fancy restaurant tonight. The food was good, so was the wine, and of course, the company. Leon wasn’t planning on staying the night at your apartment, but you had asked him to, because you knew he wouldn’t say no.

He had watched you kick your heels off at the door, letting you grab onto his shoulder for support as he toed off his own shoes, then quietly followed behind you as you moved deeper into your apartment. Leon could feel his brain shut down for a second when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tug him closer to you to find his lips in a sloppy kiss, which he eagerly returned.

Leon’s hands found their way to your hips, pulling you even closer to him as you let go of his shirt and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You didn’t keep your arms there for long, one of your hands slid down to try and unbutton the rest of his shirt, fiddling with the buttons for a few seconds before your other hand joined.

His breath caught in his throat slightly as he felt both you easily unbutton his shirt, he broke the kiss and grabbed one of your wrists, leaning his face away from you a tiny bit.

“I know what you’re doing,” He murmured, you only smiled at him and slipped your hand that he wasn’t holding inside his shirt, groping his chest gently.

“Then don’t stop me.” You giggled, kissing him again.

He groaned into the kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cradle the back of your head as you continued unbuttoning his shirt while walking him down your hallway and towards your room.

“Your hearts beating really fast.” You say breathlessly as you pull a few inches away from Leon’s lips, he snorts softly.

“I have a pretty good idea as to why,” His hand falls from the back of your head to rest above the curve of your ass

“Tell me.” You finally got the last button of his shirt unbuttoned, your hands go up to begin sliding it off his shoulders.

“Maybe because my pretty girlfriend has me in her apartment, trying to get me naked.”

“You want me to stop?” You ask, pausing momentarily.

“No.”

“Good,” You smile, taking his shirt all the way off and discarding it on the floor outside your bedroom door. Leon kisses along your jawline as he pulls you inside your bedroom, you make work of your hands once again, sliding them down his torso and to the front of his pants to tug at his belt before you begin unbuttoning it.

Leon doesn’t stop you this time, his hand moves higher up your back, running his fingers along the zipper teeth on the back of your dress, continuing to kiss your jaw and down your throat. You giggle as he starts pulling the zipper down, at the same time, you pull his belt free from the belt-loops of his jeans, he groans at the feeling.

Leon backs away from you, leaving your dress zipped up only halfway as he pulls down his pants, stepping out of them as they pool at the floor. You smile widely at him, taking in every inch of his body you hadn’t seen before and were eager to get your hands on. Your eyes flick from his face, to his heaving chest, and to the erection starting to strain against his boxers.

You don’t let him pull those off yet. Instead, grabbing his bicep and pulling him closer before pushing him back onto your bed. Leon huffs as his body meets your mattress, but he’s quick to adjust, sitting up on his elbows and staring up at you as he waits for your next move.

You reach around your back to find the zipper, it’s down low enough on your dress for you to pull it down the rest of the way. You quickly pull your dress down and let it fall to the floor, stepping out of it as you try not to fall onto Leon. When you look back at Leon, his eyes are wide and there’s a look of awe etched onto his face, you watch him as he trails his eyes up and down your body, like how you had done with him. When his eyes meet yours again, he smiles and you step closer to him.

Leon’s hands land back on your hips as you stand between his legs, your own hands find his shoulders, pulling him closer so you could kiss him eagerly once again.

Leon breaks the kiss for a second, leaning back again and tugging lightly at the elastic band seen inside the fabric of your panties. “You still wanna do this?”

“Very much, yeah,” You nod, he smiles and pulls on the elastic band, letting it snap against your skin when he lets go of it. “There’s a few condoms in my nightstand.” You nod your head towards the nightstand next to your bed, Leon lets go of you for a second and reaches over to pull one out.

“You planned this.”

“Of course I did.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles and shakes his head softly, placing the condom down next to his thigh as he moves his hands to tug your underwear down.

You groan softly at the intrusion of his fingers in your slick cunt, you steady yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders, bending your leg and bringing it up to rest against the outside of his right thigh as he runs his fingers through your slick folds before he stops at your clit, rubbing gently.

Leon says nothing, continuing to rub your clit as he moves his head to your shoulder, kissing and biting along the skin he finds there. Soft mewls fall from your lips as he continues on his mission. Leon stops for a second shifting slightly on your bed and readjusting his hand, one of his fingers slips inside of you, he pumps it in and out slowly as his kisses move from your shoulder to your throat.

After another moment of Leon fingering you, he adds another finger. He uses his other hand to push you more upright, his face is in front of your bra-covered breasts, his unoccupied hand comes up to pull your bra straps down your shoulders, then he pulls down the bra cups and slips his hand underneath them to push your breasts fully out of the bra.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He whispers to you, he continues to kiss down your throat and to your breasts, beginning to bite and suck at the soft mounds of flesh, listening carefully as you keep whining at the feeling of him curling his fingers inside of you. “I’m almost done, baby, don’t worry.” He mumbles reassuringly looking up at you through his eyelashes as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

After another minute or two of Leon fingering you and sucking on your breasts, he withdraws his fingers, wiping your arousel on his thigh before he grabs the condom and opens it.

You don’t don’t watch him as he takes off his boxers and puts the condom on, instead unclasping your bra and tossing it onto the floor. When he’s done, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer, leaning back as you hover above his cock.

It’s your turn to cover Leon in bite marks and hickeys, you grab his jaw and start kissing at his throat, he holds your hips gently as he slowly pulls you down until the tip of his cock brushes up against your entrance. You stop kissing his neck, pulling your head back to look at him as you slowly sink down onto him. You both groan at the feeling, his fingernails dig into your hips as he bucks his own hips up slightly to meet yours.

Once he was fully inside of you, your mouth returns to his throat, biting down on his Adam’s apple as you start to move. He groaned once again, squeezing your hips tighter as he started to help guide your movements.

“Goddamn,” He grunts, “You f-feel so good.”

“So do you,” You whisper against his ear, kissing down his jawline as you grind against him a bit harder.

“You- fuck- you’re t-too damn good to me.” He panted, laying back against your mattress. You leaned over, kissing along his chest now as his hands slid down to your thighs and Leon’s silently praying for this to become a regular thing.

“You sound really pretty.” You murmur against his skin as you start to bite his pecs.

“Pretty?” He chuckles breathlessly.

“Mhmmmm,” Your hum of approval trails off into a whine as you pick up the pace again.

You can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching after a few more moments, you can tell that Leon feels the same because of how his fingers keep digging into your flesh and how his breath catches in his throat.

“God, baby, please-“ You brace yourself against his chest, leaning forward to kiss him once again. His hips buck up to meet your downward thrusts, trying to bring you closer to your orgasm.

Not even two minutes later, your orgasm rips through your body, you whine into Leon’s mouth and collapse down against him. He wraps his arms around you, continuing to thrust into you, his own orgasm following not too far from behind yours.

When the aftershocks finally die out, you sit up straight, bracing yourself on Leon’s chest once again. He looks up at you with a smile, bringing his hands up to cover yours.

“You’re way too good to me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hands.

“Yeah, well, no one else gets this treatment from me.”

“They better not. I mean, that was just… goddamn.”

“That good?”

“Amazing.” You smile down at him, feeling his chest rise and fall underneath the palm of your hands.

“Well, if you liked that, then you should stick around and see what else I can do.”

“Oh, I plan on it.”

“Perfect,”

[aashi-heartfilia]

Why do we need a Ochako and Hawks conversation before the manga ends

I've been waiting for their conversation for centuries! Like these two definitely need to talk.

Ochako managed to do something that Hawks couldn't do. Toga and Twice both were really nice people and it's just their quirks led them to despair and they both realised this.

Hawks didn't wanna kill Jin Bubaigawara but he did because in his way, he was trying to be a hero, so he brutally killed his own friend but then what kind of hero does that? In MHA, there's a very thin line between heroes and villains and that has been pointed out several times.

Even with Ochako and Toga. Remember when Toga told Ochako how she used Ochako's quirk to kill a bunch of people during their 2nd battle? Ochako was horrified. The same quirk that Ochako uses to make everyone's problems weightless quite literally was used to kill people.

Ochako and Toga are very similar. They're both very cute and shy, they love to tie their hair up in buns, and even love the same boy which is why when Ochako wasn't able to empathize with Toga, she was hurt because she thought at least chako would understand...

Horikoshi loves to draw parallels between certain characters and their storylines and one such beautiful parallel is this...when later on Ochako notices Toga's tears in the final battle.

"She loved seeing people happy. So of course she zeroed in on her tears"

Beautiful narration, amazing storytelling

It is a way for us as readers to tell that Ochako has now grown, as she is now seeing Toga as a person, not as a villain, just as a person who was sad and crying.

Like it's outright stated for us in the manga, so I don't understand people who think Ochako never got any character development because this is exactly where she differs from Hawks ideology.

Hawks was able to sacrifice Twice for the greater good, even if he himself regretted it later. The Public Safety Hero commission must have made him do other terrible things as well and he might have killed some more villains in secret just like Nagant.

We can cut him some slack though cause he was just following the orders, but then so did Ochako. Tsu even points it out, that killing Toga would have been much easier just like Hawks suggested, but her friend Ochako took a harder route and is trying to confront her.

Plus, Hawks had a chance to correct his mistake and yet when Twice (actually Toga) appeared in the battlefield again, his first instinct was to kill him.

MHA is not a story about killing people for greater good. We've seen in the latest chapter how both Dabi and Endeavour survived the war and while Dabi would live for only some time, he would have some moments of peace with his father. They can at least try to heal what was broken.

Killing twice was definitely not a good idea cause his will continued within Toga. She took her revenge and killed so many heroes on the same battlefield. As long as their despair and sadness is not confronted, the problem is not yet solved. We've seen it with Toga and Shigaraki.

Which is why I said that Ochako passed where Hawks failed.

Both Toga and Twice died, but at least Toga died smiling, happily to save someone she loved. Twice died to save his comrades while Toga sacrificed herself to save Ochako, an act of true love by the so-called villains.

And this needs to be addressed.

Plus there has been too much of a teaser about it...

Hawks witnessed the impact of Ochako's speech in ch 325. And she was the last thing that came to his mind before passing out...

Plus even their covers are a big parallel!

So with all that being said, if Ochako and Hawks didn't have a conversation before this manga ends, it would really be such a missed opportunity and quite a shame.

~Sunshine

[almondmilktargaryen]

Duty & Sacrifice (Part Two)

Summary: Aemond is married with two kids to Floris Baratheon, as it was his duty. But it's when he ventures into Flea Bottom in the night that he faces his sacrifices.

Couple: Aemond Targaryen/Fem!Reader

Category: Flangst

Content: Memories of sexual trauma. Violence, violence, violence. Trying to refrain from spoilers but the degree of violence is referenced in part one, so please take this vague warning seriously and be cautious if you still choose to read. Please be kind as I'm very nervous as to how this will be received. Aemond's hubris will be his downfall and I mean it.

Word count: 7.4k

Also on my Ao3

Part one | Part two | Part three ✍️ | Part four ✍️

A/N: Okay, I caved. I’ve written a part two to Duty & Sacrifice AND have a part three on the way (maybe a part four). Tagged everyone who asked about a part two so you all can find it :))

Also we're going to pretend Chataya and Alayaya were around 200 years before they were for the sake of the story ✨

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Criston hisses. The heat of his anger billows from him like smoke from Vhagar’s nostrils. Aemond feels it against his back as they walk (Criston almost stomping) across the cobblestone paths. He wears the same old brown wool cloak and hat as he had when they were last here, before the Dance.

“I know,” Aemond responds plainly.

“I expected this from Aegon. As would anyone. But you, Aemond.” Criston staggers as he lectures. After years of reflection and buckets of blood on his hands, his anger still gets the best of him, even in the smallest of ways. “Honestly, what would your mother say about all this?”

“She’s gone, Cole.” That’s all he can say. She was taken by the winter fever shortly after Aegon’s second coronation and Helaena’s suicide. Aemond suffered plenty in all three areas. Criston saw. And he was there when Aemond still needed a parent; helping him through his losses and the choices his brother made as king. It is why Criston volunteered to help with the City Watch while also remaining on the Kingsguard to help him. He became a father to Aemond.

And fathers asking their children what their mothers might think of their wrongdoings is supposed to add an extra dose of shame. Aemond learns, despite assuming otherwise, that he is not an exception to this. He feels the shame, like whenever his nephews knocked him to the ground and snickered or when Alicent slapped him after confessing what happened at Storm’s End. He remembers how he couldn’t sleep for days.

There was no way he could sleep tonight, either. The possibility that something could happen to his family while he remained safe in the Red Keep is a burden he could not bear after seeing Alyssa. The gods sewed in the inevitable, and it’s his turn to unlace it. So he focuses on his route as Criston lingers behind, keeping up with the sharp turns and secret alleyways. Aemond recalls the moment he left. All three of them were safe. They were in tears on the cot, but they were safe. He let the image settle in his mind. They were safe. Spotting the door once again, he’ll guarantee it. He avoids glancing down the alley, hoping to forget that.

But Criston does glance. “Was that one of Aegon’s—”

“We’re here,” Aemond says. His fingers wrap around the handle, jiggling the iron to find it locked. Good. Then he knocks three times, then two, then one.

“You actually have a special knock?”

“Not important.”

The bolt shifted behind the wood, and the open door bloomed with light once more. Aemond squinted at the starkness, but he could see that she was alright. She was standing, hunching slightly, and smiling. She stepped aside to let them both in. Aemond spotted the girls on the cot, quiet.

She shut the door with a thud. “You came back!”

“Like I said I would,” Aemond replies. He was hesitant to hug her, but she took the choice away when she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck. He took the opportunity and held her gently, burying his nose in her thick hair. It smelled of sweat and dirt, and he inhaled deeply before letting go. “This is Criston Cole. He’s going to help us. It’s cold out, so you’ll need this.” He takes the spare cloak Criston has and asks her to hold her hair.

“I know how to put on a cloak, Aemond.”

He hesitates to object. The cloak matches her eyes. He notices when she turns and takes it from him. She handles it well enough, so Aemond squeezes by to reach the cot. He sits close to the babes’ feet. They were sleeping. All he could do was whisper “sorry” repeatedly as he picked up Alisha first. She only cooed, not fully awake. He stood slowly to hand her over. “Here. Put her under the cloak.”

“What did you think I was going to do?” She asked.

“I know, I know. I just... have to say it aloud.”

Then came Alyssa. She only squirmed as he picked her up, and Aemond wondered what she could be dreaming about. He stands straight before covering her. He brushed her ginger hair.

“Do you want to see her?” She holds Alisha closer to Criston. She smiles brightly when she turns Alisha’s face toward him. And despite his objections during the entire walk here, he reaches out to hold her little hand, noting how her fingernails are no bigger than grains of rice. He breaks into a grin when he says hello. His palm brushes her hair, and the grin fades as he looks closer—the transition from brushing the whole of her head to examining individual strands. Aemond does not expect them to be noticed at such a late hour, but Criston’s eyebrows go straight as he stares at him.

Aemond only stared back, bringing the other half of his cloak over Alyssa’s face.

“What’s the plan?”

“To find them safety,” Aemond replies. “A better home.”

“Surely you have a more detailed idea than that.”

“Where are the apartments? The ones where you kept that girl from Lys?”

Criston’s hard expression changed. “What are you talking about?”

Then it was Aemond’s turn to stare in disappointment. The disappointment that Criston thought he would never notice the obvious. Celibacy among the Kingsguard has not been as enforced under Aegon’s reign, and Criston is not the only one to take advantage of this, especially for any woman who looks like Rhaenyra.

“Over by the Old Gate,” he caves. “I arranged the rent and servants with Chataya. Her brothel isn’t far from here.”

“Then we’ll go to Chataya’s. We’ll take the Street of Silk. It should be faster.”

“Aemond.”

“Darling, we don’t have a choice. Here.” Aemond traces the loops of his belt, pulling out a dagger. “Take this.” The ripple of Valyrian steel sheens in his hand.

“I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will.” His face softens. “Just in case I’m not close enough.”

She’s hesitant, but takes it anyway, shoving it in one of the cloak pockets.

Alyssa fusses, as if she’s protesting herself now that she’s fully awake. He’s familiar with this one, and she does not let up when he tries to shush her, so he sticks his free hand inside and searches for her mouth. He gently puts his finger in, letting her tiny lips and hands wrap around it like a bottle.

“She’s hungry,” Aemond reluctantly admits.

“I can feed her. Quickly.”

“No. The faster we move, the better.”

“But I—”

“He’s right, ma’am,” Criston says.

Aemond can see the uneasiness reveal itself once more. It’s the remnants of fear sticking around before he left, as the possibilities outside that door (good or otherwise) are closer than ever. So Aemond stepped closer while her eyes glowed wet in the dwindling candlelight. A kiss, another hug, perhaps, or some sort of reassurance that it would be alright could help. But as his arms cradle Alyssa (and Criston waits when there’s no time), Aemond instead presses his forehead against hers. He keeps his eye on her, and her smile is small. It was good enough.

“Let’s go.”

Men in rags stay close to the walls, under torchlights. Some with their selection of whores, others looking to wait their turn. The streets are less congested by stone walls, so pathways are more open, with no carts or livestock blocking the way. They can all step aside and not disturb each other. 

Her cloak shielded her arms as Alisha fussed more. She stuck close to Aemond as Criston took the lead this time, many paces ahead. Aemond could hear the speed of her breathing and see the fog rolling from her lips.

“Walk with purpose,” Aemond tells her. “Eyes forward. Do not look afraid.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I’m here. Lean on me if you have to.”

“No. It’s not the time to look weak.”

That damned cot. Sleeping, the pregnancy, and birthing twins on that cot took its toll. Her body has grown weak. Her stubbornness, though, remains unmoved. It’s why Aemond never bought her a new bed. She would cunningly lead him to the floor, so they would lose the topic (as well as the night) before they slept.

Her stubbornness persists all the same as her body struggles with the walk, one step to the other as Aemond continues to be their eyes, centering on Criston (and the men who stare too long). The path is straight and simple. But Alisha still whimpers. Her arms shift under the cloth, muffling her upset, a finger in her mouth. But her adamancy follows through mother and daughter. “Why does this work for you and not me?”

Aemond smirks. “Magic touch.”

She scoffed, nudging him. Aemond responded similarly, planting a kiss in her hair in the safety of darkness. The frizz tickled his nose, and for a moment, Aemond felt peace. A rare thing he relished with his mother or his sister. It’s something he hasn’t felt since the Dance. But even on this road and in the cold, it ruminates over his whole body.

But as quick as that peace washed over him like a bath of sacred waters, he got pulled out. He’s reminded of his thirteenth name day when her blue eyes lock onto his. Aemond turns his eye to Criston once again. He didn’t turn around, but Aemond focused, blinking out the memories.

“Found a replacement, have you?” She stands at the entrance to that brothel all the same as before, when Aemond and Criston were looking for Aegon. She leans casually against the doorway as they pass, and the smirk makes Aemond’s stomach turn.

She turns around, but Aemond pulls her by the arm. “Focus.”

“Was she speaking to you?”

“Focus.”

“Oh… Aemond. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says with an even breath. He pulls her closer, arm and arm, cloth and cloth. “We’ll get there soon.” Criston is still ahead, and Aemond remembers to breathe.

“Perhaps we should stop.”

“No.” His eye darts at the surrounding men. Most didn’t look at him, and the ones who did offered only a glance. None remember when he was ten and three, despite what his thoughts are saying. The walls are not closing in, and Criston is still well ahead. “We need to catch up.” He pulls her by the arm, and she does her best to keep up.

If it was not the location of Chataya’s that spoke of their expensive price range, it was the perfumes. He recognized the scents of Day’s Dawn and Ginger Palm, authentic from the Summer Isles, along with the smells of cinnamon and nutmeg. Scarlet lamps gave low lighting, but Aemond still kept his head down. He blocked all bodies he noted in the alcove as the lights bled patterns of their shades on the floors and small tables.

“Welcome, sirs,” a woman says. Aemond still keeps his head down.

“Alayaya, hello,” Criston says. “Is your mother around?”

“Always. But I can help you as well.”

“I have a specific request that requires her… connections.”

“There are plenty of specific requests we can and have fulfilled, Ser Cole. Not just my mother.” With her voice alone, Aemond can see her smile: coy and showing teeth, a light accent honeyed with playfulness. All the signs say she doesn’t know this situation is serious.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we specifically need your mother,” Criston says as he gently puts a hand on Aemond’s shoulder. Aemond forces himself to take a breath before looking up. When he does, he doesn’t let his eye linger out of concern that anyone else in this place would recognize him.

Aemond watches the recollection color her face, her dark eyes widening upon the sight of his. There was no fear in sight, but the realization that she was in over her head (Aemond saw that look a lot during the Dance). She picks at the gold rings in one of her braids as her eyes trail over to her persistently rocking Alisha. Alayaya steps back. “I’ll go get my mother.”

Chataya does not take long to arrive. Aemond spotted the book and quill in her hands before he put his head back down. “I’ll speak with her,” Criston tells Aemond.

“Alright,” he mumbles.

Criston squeezes his shoulder. “I’ll be close by.”

Aemond nods.

She was further away than they were on the street, just an arm’s length away. Alisha whimpers under her cloak, and Aemond cannot afford to spare her a glance, let alone help. Criston isn’t the only one who chooses places like Chataya’s. Non-Westerosi women have a higher price range, which means her customers have likely been in the Red Keep, possibly even invited. Which means they just need to meet his eye once.

It kills him. His stress only heightens when she fiddles with her cloak to find Alisha’s mouth. Nothing. She tries rocking her gently, but she only grows more demanding with each sway. Meanwhile, Alyssa remains quiet somehow, Aemond’s finger still in her mouth, but she stopped suckling minutes ago.

“Gods! Quiet the thing!” Aemond hears from the alcove. The man’s voice is deep in his chest.

“Sorry,” she squeaks. She does what she can, but Alisha does not let up. She’s very hungry.

Aemond sees a woman fall to the floor, just in his limited view. Alayaya helps her up. He sees calf-skin boots come and go out of his sight.

“Lord Baratheon.”

Aemond freezes.

Chataya’s voice is smooth as she remains assertive. “You do not throw my girls around as such.”

“This is not an establishment for children. So she should take the child outside so I can enjoy the experience I paid good money for.”

Alisha is hungry. Aemond thinks about that as he remembers Lord Borros’ funeral after the Battle of the Kingsroad. After that, they acknowledged Royce Baratheon as Lord of Storm’s End. Aemond married his sister two days later.

“Or if you just whip out your tit and feed it, it might—oh.” The gruffness dissipates, and Aemond questions his perspective for a moment. No one is in front of him.

“I remember you.”

“No,” she muttered. “Forgive me, sir. I don’t recognize you.”

“Yes, you do.” Royce drags out the last syllable. It sounded like Baelon insisting on a later bedtime or going hunting with Royce after Aemond and Floris agreed he was too young. Except Royce adds a disgusting singsong tone to it. “Redheads stand out on their own already. With big doe eyes like yours. Baratheons know how to spot that.”

“Sir, please.”

“Lord Baratheon,” Chataya calls.

Aemond has to keep still.

“You remember my cousin. I see it in your eyes. Of course you do. He loved redheads.”

Aemond’s heart pounds in his chest so fast that he’s surprised that Alyssa remains undisturbed. Royce’s voice only grew more heated. He’s drunk. And he’s quick to anger when drunk, remembering Lord Lorren Lannister running into him at the reception. Maesters tended to him while guards carried Royce to bed. Not long after, Floris pulled Aemond aside and asked him to fly to King’s Landing out of sheer embarrassment.

“I wasn’t—”

“But you just couldn’t let him have you, could you? Too good for a Baratheon, are ya?” He curdles a spit and hacks it on her shoes.

Aemond has to stay still. He keeps his palms flat, despite the instinct to clench them. Alisha’s crying continues, and it doesn’t help.

“He followed me to my room. I was not working then.”

“Whores are whores no matter the hour of the day. They bend over when a man tells them to.”

“Only when they pay for it. Your cousin was too frugal for me.”

Aemond didn’t know what would burst first: the vein in his forehead or his lips from the pressure of keeping them closed with his teeth. The desperation to keep his family safe stared him down from all angles. In his mind, he pictures Baelon and Daeron sound asleep. While adjusting to her growing front, he thinks of Floris kissing them goodnight as she stands up. He thinks of something happening to his girls and can feel the fabric of Alyssa’s cloth as he grips her tighter. He thinks of how disappointed his mother would be.

Alyssa fusses. Aemond eases his hold and his teeth.

Alisha wails.

“Is that a hungry bastard of someone who paid?”

“Yes,” Aemond says. He spots her sandals and the reflection of spit already seeping between her toes. Royce is not one to take directions the first time, and Aemond’s instincts smack his meaty fingers away before he’s given the chance to realize he was reaching for her cloak.

Alyssa’s cry leans into a bawl. Aemond’s hand is hesitant to slip back in.

Royce laughs, a small one from the belly. “Oh, I see. It explains the hips she’s got on her now. But if this doting father has his hands full with another bastard, then what will he do to stop me?”

“Then I will be the one you deal with instead.” Criston steps in front of Aemond. “Man on man. Sword and sword.”

“Ser Criston.” The joy depleted from his voice. Normally, Aemond would enjoy it, but Criston is the Kingsguard, the City Watch, part of the royal family. “The king requires escorts of many kinds, huh?”

“If the king or any member of the Targaryen family were here right now, you would bow accordingly. As is your place as a lord and as a Green.”

“My father would spit on the Greens if he were alive today. My youngest nephew doesn’t get to see his future land of Storm’s End because his pompous Targaryen father thinks he’s better than us. He’d rather both of them fly their winged beasts than hunt for game in the woods.”

Criston was silent for a long time. And for a moment, it was strange to find Royce was as well. He didn’t even digest Royce’s insult because Aemond couldn’t believe Criston was using one of his parenting tactics: letting the boy sit in silence with his own words so he could feel the weight of them. The longer they are quiet, the more they understand thinking before speaking.

“If you wish to keep your tongue, Lord Royce, you will keep it safe in your mouth by not speaking further insults about your brother-by-law.”

“Ma’am, sir, you can come with me!” Alayaya calls. “You can feed the babes back here.”

No one moves for what feels like hours, but Aemond follows her out, still looking straight at the floor and hoping to the gods there were no stairs. The gods blessed him as he passed through a beaded curtain Alayaya held open for them. They paused in place and let her lead the way. There were only a few paces before they stopped, Aemond nearly clashing Alyssa into her mother.

“You can look up, my prince,” she whispers. “No one will see you here.”

Aemond hesitates to do so, but the aching in his neck was tempting enough to believe her—a narrow hallway lined with crimson doors and elaborately patterned tapestries crowding corners and windows. Aemond looks back to see the beaded curtain Alayaya held for him, still clicking against itself before stilling, finding no one in his line of sight. No Criston either.

Alayaya pulls out a dull brass skeleton key that matches the door handle. She twists it, and a bolt shifts on the other side. She holds the door once again, waiting patiently for them to enter and settle in. Except this time, they don’t move. It is as if, in silence, without a single glance toward each other, they waited for something else to happen, as if Royce (or someone else) was about to stampede in and finally ruin everything.

But no one does; no one enters or leaves the hallway. A body does not enter or exit any of the surrounding doors. There are no people for Aemond to stare down at as they pass; there is no one here to remember when he was ten and three.

They found more tapestries and scarlet lamps in the bedroom. They also noticed a silk bed that looked untouched, with plenty of pillows that matched the sheets resting against the headboard. Neither of them said anything. Aemond looks back at Alayaya.

“I’ll tell Ser Criston where you are,” she says while looking at Aemond. Then she turns to her. Aemond follows. “You are safe here, ma’am.”

All she can do is nod. It’s good enough since Alayaya shuts the door. And it’s at the sound of the lock sliding into place that they deflate, a long-awaited exhale finally escaping their lungs. They release their arms from under their cloaks to place the babes at the foot of the bed, rolling out their shoulders and stretching their backs.

Then, after a moment of rest, they look at each other. They wasted no time closing the gap, wrapping each other in an embrace. Nothing sensual like this place would inspire, nothing romantic or yearning. Only love. The desperation to hold her was overwhelming, as it was proof that she was still here, present, alive, and safe. Aemond puts one hand atop her tangled curls and the other at her back, gripping her tighter and tighter like he expected her to become glued to his skin. He knows she can hear how incessant his heartbeat is, his ribs barely a cage enough to contain it. Aemond inhales the sweat and dirt, eye closed.

“You were scared too?” Her palms were flat around his waist and shoulder.

“Of course I was,” he admits. It was a simple thing to admit to her. “But you handled yourself so well.”

“He recognized me so fast.”

“And you handled yourself so well, darling.” He pushes the curls that cover her forehead back to kiss her on the skin, hot from stress. “You stood up for yourself, and I’m so proud of you.”

Aemond is present enough to let his heart calm. And once he feels the steady decline, he moves his hands but doesn’t let her go. Instead, he holds her face, kissing her forehead again, then her cheeks, then her lips. He brushes the tops of her hair back as he looks into her eyes. “I love you,” he tells her. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Her smile was small, yet such a wash of relief at the sight alone. The smile of contentment. “I love you too,” she tells him, and it’s a warmth that spreads through him like tea. And he looked at her for a long time. The mother of his daughters, a woman he never thought could love him the way he needed.

Her hands soon travel from his back to his wrists as she keeps her gaze on him. “I need to feed the girls.”

Aemond nods. “I’ll help you.”

“You should rest while you can, Aemond.”

“I’ll rest when you do.”

She does not argue further. She settled with Aemond helping her remove her cloak. He saw the way she was still shivering, but reminded himself that they were almost there. He doesn’t mention it. She instead settles on the bed, only wearing the dirty white cotton nightgown she often wore. It was the only one that had a stretchable collar. It was easier than getting undressed just to breastfeed the babes. She shimmies one sleeve down before bringing Alisha back into her arms. Aemond knows her breasts are still swollen with milk, and she has been in pain since the girls made their hunger known. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for her to latch, and she eats away.

Aemond keeps one palm on Alyssa in the swaddle as he watches. He moves her hair away from her chest, avoiding any mess. The copper spirals end at the middle of her back. She never wore it down when he first knew her. She had stringy pieces in her face that were too short to stay in the unkempt braid, which she only unraveled when the money was in her hand.

“What?” She turned to Aemond.

“Your cousin was too frugal for me,” he repeated in her earlier jab.

“Well,” she shrugs, “he was. Whores require payment, simple as that. Even the drunkest fools would toss coins at me when they were done.”

“I didn’t.”

She snorts with a laugh. “You’re a fool, but you’ve never been a drunken one. You paid me just to sit in my room and talk.”

“You intrigued me.” Aemond kissed her cheek. “Is that so bad?”

“It was daunting at first. You killed your cousin two days prior.”

“He was a cousin by marriage, dear.”

“You know what I mean, then.”

“Well, I didn’t know he was a cousin. It’s not like Royce was around.”

She scoffs lightly before changing her position, trying to sit as upright as she can, like Aemond. “Give me Alyssa,” she tells him.

“We have time. Just take the moment and be with your youngest.”

“Leave it to the youngest to be the most vocal.” She laughs at her joke.

Aemond does too, but he can tell she’s still rattled. “Look at me.” He gently puts his palm around her forearm, gesturing towards his chest, and then up as he inhales, guiding her to do the same. They exhale at the same time once more. “Perfect.”

“Gods, I was so scared.”

“I know. Me too.”

“Do you think your wife knows her brother is in the city?”

“We need to be informed in advance about any visitors to the Red Keep. She was probably waiting to tell me when it was closer to his visit. She knows I don’t care for him.”

“Do you think he recognized you?”

“No. He spat out what he did, but they’re the words of a sober man’s thoughts. Nothing more.”

They remained quiet until Alisha was done. Aemond keeps her hair out of the way as she burps their daughter. There was only minimal spit up—nothing a towelette couldn’t solve. He took the same towelette to wipe between her toes. They then switched out the twins quickly. She pulls the other sleeve down, and Alyssa latches while Aemond swaddles Alisha back up. It’s easy to remember: fold under the arms, across the chest, tuck behind the back, take the bottom, and meet the back. It’s effortless after four kids. Aemond holds her close, watching her eyelids grow heavy from the delightful consequences of a full stomach.

After a moment, he scoots closer to her, looking just over her shoulder as Alyssa eats. Her lids are becoming lazy as well, but Aemond can just make out her purple eye. The right one, just like his. It was something he once saw as a sense of pride. He felt the rush when he held Baelon, clean from the afterbirth, and nothing but a squishy being of joy. Daeron too. With his girl, his oldest girl, it was impossible to sit with that same storm in his blood without being reminded of the tragedies to come. The potential tragedies to come. It is why they’re here—to stop all potential tragedies from destroying his family.

She burps Alyssa. Spit up, as expected. It was more than Alisha, but Aemond wiped it up without hesitation. He dabbed her little plush lips for good measure, smiling at his baby. He swore he saw them curl.

Criston knocked at the door. Aemond knew because he copied his knock: three, two, then one. Aemond still gets up carefully as she watches him. Meanwhile, Alisha is out cold—not a peep. Aemond still keeps her out of view, cracking the door to just see half of Criston’s face. He doesn’t find any bruises, cuts, or a spot of blood anywhere on his clothes. Not even a wave of his hair was out of place. But the bulb in his throat bobs, something he remembers from the Dance. The audible dry swallow was never a good sign. “Royce is gone.”

“Gone where?”

“I don’t know. He left just now.”

“We should leave.”

“Yes.”

They nod to each other before Aemond shuts the door. He looks over at her, and she’s already trying to bring her nightgown back over her chest and shoulders, frantic as Alyssa falls asleep.

“It’s alright. It’s alright.” Aemond crouches down, pulling gently at the sleeve with one hand and pulling it over her breast.

“We have to go,” she said.

“Yes, but let me help. Breathe. And hold her. Be with your daughter.”

She inhales, pauses, and exhales on her own as Aemond pulls up the other sleeve. She brushes Alyssa’s cheek, cooing and kissing the air softly. Aemond drank in the sight as he brought the neckline closer to her clavicle. Then he took her cloak, leaning on the bed, and wrapped it around her until it met in the middle. She shook out her hair as she clasped the cloak shut. Aemond then hides Alisha again as Criston knocks with the same pattern, politely urging them to hurry.

Criston leads them further down the hallway. “Alayaya is waiting for us in the back.” The three hurried down the hall, nearly hand in hand with how close they were. Aemond’s heart raced in rhythm with their hectic footsteps. The narrow halls felt like an endless stretch as he waited for a single door to burst open and finally catch them. With every corner turned, that similar surge came back in full swing, his grip only tightening on Alisha as they rushed to the exit.

Then he spotted Alayaya over Criston’s shoulder, her hand firmly on the knob. She was ready to free them like frantic animals, but she stopped Criston with a polite palm to the chest first. “This leads to an alleyway. Go right, then left out of it. Follow the street until you reach the Old Gate. Make your way across the path, and the building will be on the corner. The top floor.”

As she opens the door, they all nod, and then they feel their feet touch an evenly paved cobblestone as darkness engulfs them once again. Silhouettes of ivy cling to the stone walls of looming buildings. Not a person in sight, not a (visible) Targaryen child in sight. Almost there. It was all Aemond could think of. Criston is ahead again, but he looks back. “Come here,” he says to Aemond. He recognizes the tone when he’s overtaxed. Aemond then looks back at her before approaching his side.

Criston pulls out a skeleton key, a similar brass shade to Alayaya’s. “Yours now. Chataya said she would send you the bill at the end of the month.”

Aemond takes the key, shoving it in his cloak pocket. His dry throat swallows as he feels the heaviness in the air—the shame. His mother’s shame Aemond could outrun for as long as he still breathed. The gods were kind enough to give them time together after the war and cruel enough to take her so soon after he found Helaena on the spikes. The idea  of Criston’s shame lingering in his eyes during every small council meeting, every year on any of his children’s name days, every glance in his direction was something he couldn’t tolerate. He did not want to lose more family.

“Thank you for this,” he eventually said. “It means a lot. Truly.”

Criston looks at him, but only briefly. “Don’t mention it.”

“I should, though. You went out of your way for me again. I am grateful for that... beyond words.”

Criston turns back to Aemond. His dark eyes, even in the starless night, softened quickly. “It’s my job to go out of my way for you.”

Aemond’s mouth twitches.

“I know you know what I mean.”

He gazes down at the hidden (finally asleep) mass in his arms. He knows.

“Aemond!”

His instinct takes over again, and he doesn’t remember turning around just as he doesn’t hear Criston draw his sword. His eye rests on the blade against her throat. Royce. Aemond makes out the Baratheon sigil on his chest as she struggles against his hold on her waist, despite not making any difference.

Aemond, however, cannot move. Not because he’s frozen with indecision, but because of the realization that there is no move that isn’t obvious. He is just in need to kill as he needs to protect Alisha. He cannot simply pass her off to Criston. Not even if his hands were free; they are too far away to make any difference. Royce could slice them both before Aemond would even be in reach.

So he is still by force and keeps his eye on her. She’s as fierce as she is terrified.

Royce’s face, however, is puffy from too much ale. And his beard glistens with grease. He chuckles. “So this is what you’re doing when you’re not making heirs with my sister, huh? We went to war—my father died—so you could make your own bastards with a Flea Bottom whore?”

“You will let them go,” Criston orders.

“Targaryen bastards line plenty of alleyways. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t slaughter this one in her arms and bring it to my sister. Have the entire city on the hunt for Prince Aemond Targaryen’s hidden bastard.”

“Royce,” Aemond says through his teeth. “Don’t.”

“Oh. You care about these. The prince I rode with in the Riverlands, he didn’t care for the bastards he slaughtered. He made them dragon dinner.”

“And I will slaughter you before feeding you to Vhagar all the same.”

Royce laughs. “If you cared for your brother’s kingdom at all, you’d drop the babe and hope the stone splits her head open.”

Aemond only holds Alisha tighter. She whimpers as she wakes up.

“I guess we have different priorities.” Then Royce moves the blade from her neck and shoves her into the wall, her back colliding with the stone. She yelped as she landed on the ground. Royce then snatches Alyssa from her hold before she can grip her tighter.

Alyssa whimpers with Alisha as she hangs in the air. Her weight dropped in the swaddle, but she didn’t fall. Her whimpers morphed into panic. His purple tint in her eye gleamed even in the minimal light, and he didn’t know if he could keep his eye open as he watched her kick her little feet in the cocoon, completely helpless.

Then the metal of Royce’s blade came into his sight. “She has your... eye.”

Alyssa was quiet because her mother’s screams pierced Aemond’s ears like blades themselves, digging into the canals. It’s all that forces him to look away from the aftermath, a word that was so easy to use when speaking about a mass of dead soldiers. Dead villagers and dead bastards as well. But seeing Alyssa on the ground, inky liquid pooling around her, it makes everything move slowly. Royce was even slower to stop her from digging Aemond’s dagger into his calf. Royce collapses, and the dagger ascends his body, cutting up his skin and fat like she was climbing a mountain, until Royce gurgles, desperate to keep speaking as his body convulses. When she is on top of him, she digs the blade into his chest. Repeatedly. Until only the hilt is visible

Aemond stays still, watching the twitching in Royce’s ankles. Criston is in his peripheral, his blade sheathed again. It’s her wailing and her rapid breaths in the dark that snap him into motion.

He hands Alisha off to Criston, double-checking that she is secure in his arms as she cries to herself. Aemond scrambles to her, nearly tripping over his own feet as he slides to the ground. His knees are wet as they press into the stone, and he can’t think about who it might be. Aemond finds his blade in the dark and slips it back into one of his belt loops.

Aemond’s throat is tight as he feels around for her, finding her back and the crooks of her knees. But there were small fists pounding against his shoulders and chest as she strained her voice.

“It’s just me,” he says.

“No!”

“Can you walk?”

“No!” She continues beating on his chest. “No, no! Where’s Alyssa? I want to see Alyssa!”

Aemond doesn’t listen, eventually feeling around (and finding more blood drenching her nightgown) until he finds her legs. He pulls her up as he attempts to stand on his own; the realization taking hold as she writhes against him.

“I want my baby!”

Aemond ignores her, spotting Criston and bolting past him before he says anything. He knows where to go just as well as Aemond. From the alleyway, he remembers to exit left. He keeps the image of the Old Gate in his mind as he charges.

The lavishness of the apartment was reminiscent of Chataya’s, with multiple rooms, silks, and warm colors throughout on top of the beautiful view of the city. The same scarlet lamps reflect on the stone floor, almost hiding the blood staining the entryway. Servants lined the archway into the first sitting room. That was until Aemond ordered them out, as they both collapsed to the ground upon unlocking the door.

Aemond’s lungs burned, like dry heat in his chest, as he heaved. When he eventually tried to stand (with great pain), he tried picking her up as well. She smacked his hand away. He understood. He deserved it. She did her best to get up on her own. And though Aemond could hear the struggle in (what remained) of her voice, he didn’t interfere. It was not his place. He stood against the nearest wall like the servants did moments ago. Except that his body lost all posture and royal propriety. He could barely feel his legs, let alone any sign of a heartbeat in his chest. As she stands, snotty inhales as she sees the blood across her body, red and shining even in the dim light. It nearly brings her back down.

That was nearly the case until her eyes locked on Aemond. He watched the surge pulse through her body as she brought herself to her feet with ease. Aemond doesn’t resist when she stomps across the floor toward him. The rage is in her eyes—a fire he never thought would burn so instantly inside her.

And it was his fault.

Her fists collide with the bones in his chest, some catching strands of his hair and yanking them out as she only screams in his face. Aemond doesn’t stop her. It doesn’t hurt. He can’t feel anything.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually says. A single tear streaks down his face. It was cooling as it slid down to his chin, following another. “I’m so sorry, darling.”

“I said you couldn’t do it!” She kept beating him as he remained still. “But you wouldn’t listen to me! If you left us in Flea Bottom, where we were fine, if you weren’t so fucking stubborn, I’d still have my babes!” The last word snapped her back as she looked around. “Where’s Alisha?”

“With Cole.”

“Where is he?” Her eyes flare.

“He’s following us.”

“You mean you don’t know!”

“It hasn’t been long.”

She hits him with a blow to the chest that he actually feels, winding him. “It didn’t take long for Alyssa to die either!”

The blood from her hands stains his tunic. Her punches become weaker as she looks back down at her hands. And she turns around before bursting into sobs again. She runs to the nearest back room, away from Aemond. She looks around at each flat surface, like she hoped she simply misplaced the girls. It’s not Royce’s blood that bothers her. She doesn’t have the girls to hold. Not even one of them—something she hasn’t experienced in three months. The whimpers and cracks in her voice are all that carry when Aemond can’t see her anymore.

Aemond returns to the ground, sliding down the granite wall. He was a pathetic guard for a woman who has every reason to hate him. The numbing stage of his heartbreak will surely pass and descend into the next stage, as will the weighing guilt of his actions. These were his actions. One of his girls died from his mistake. Because he, once again, assumed he was an exception to the rules, to the gods and their wrath.

Three knocks, then two, then one. 

Aemond doesn’t have the strength to stand. “Cole,” he says.

Criston opens the door, heavy wood with creaking metal hinges. He looks around the place, spotting the blood on the floor. His arms are cradling Alisha as he crouches to Aemond’s side. He doesn’t see a fleck of disappointment, only wide-eyed concern. “Are you alright?” He feels around his cloak and tunic for a wound.

Aemond shakes his head. “Not mine,” he says. His eye points to the archway on the other side of the room. “She’s over there.”

Criston looks over, her wails trailing out of the room just loud enough to overhear. He’s gentle when showing him Alisha. “She’s safe,” he says. “I only just got her to calm down.”

Aemond’s chest shutters, as though his ribs had finally given in and dissolved inside him. She matched her mother’s big eyes; the whites of them were pink, and her cheeks were red with grief. Aemond is hesitant to touch her, not just because of the blood drying on his fingertips, but also because of the fear of damning his only living daughter with his touch alone. He looked at Alisha as if he were suddenly the Stranger embodied, like one fingertip to her soft ginger hair would eliminate his purpose in doing all of this and destroy any sense of Targaryen exceptionalism he thought he possessed.

He hesitates but forces himself to reach out and touch her, as it may be the last time he’s ever given the chance. There’s a part of him that feels filled (if not partially) when she looks at him, recognizing him as a remedy for his pain and not the cause yet. He brushes the flesh on her cheek before letting his head fall back against the granite. “She needs her more. Go.”

Criston hesitates to leave. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Go.”

“I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Aemond watches Criston disappear behind the curtains lining the archway, and his eye rests on the ceiling. He looked up like he was looking at the gods in the sept, the grand marble statues that surrounded him when he prayed. Helaena and Jaehaerys’ ashes in the sept came to mind, resting in silence after she screamed and held his headless nephew. The sound was no different from the mother of his children just in the next room, the sound of her heart shattering in front of him—a pain he didn’t have the strength to voice in himself. He didn’t think his heart could break the way it did upon seeing his corpse, wrapped in gilded cloth, like he was only in a deep sleep. He thought about the pieces of Arrax falling from the clouds at Storm’s End, with no sign of Lucerys’ body in the mix. All of them, his fault.

There’s no world where the gods would allow all of Aemond’s children to live when he helped kill two others because of his stupidity. His stupidity bested him again by making him think otherwise.

Criston came back. Alisha wasn’t in his arms, but a bucket and a rag hung off of him. He sets them close to Aemond as he gets comfortable on the floor, inches away. Criston dips the rag into the bucket, wringing out the excess water before taking it to Aemond’s cloak and chest. He doesn’t speak a word as he pushes Aemond’s long hair to his back, preventing any curling.

Aemond’s voice is weak. “Why are you doing this, Cole?”

“We need to clean you up,” he says.

Aemond takes a gentle hold of his arm and pushes him away. “She needs this more than me. Save the water for her.”

“There’s plenty left.”

“Why for me, then?”

Criston sighs. “It’s late in the night, Aemond. The hour? I’m not sure.”

Aemond doesn’t understand.

“Your wife is likely expecting you.”

Taglist: @paprikaquinn @immyowndefender @teal-anchor @dixie-elocin

[mycurrentobsessionis]

@pink-pearl-plain-jeans took a few days but here. hope this is something you actually wanted lol. this is lowkey a ramble but it is an informed ramble.

First, you are gonna seriously regret asking me, because I have nearly 300 hours logged between these two games and half a masters degree in clinical psychology.

Second, to be fair, you don't have know a lot about ballroom dancing -- I know almost nothing. Toward the end of Step 4 on Baxter's route, he will joke to Jamie about the irony of ballroom dancing, which requires both a partner and a certain level of intimacy, is his most beloved hobby, when the ability to form close, intimate relationships is his biggest struggle.

Baxter is a pretty good example of what disorganized, or fearful-avoidant, attachment looks like in adults. He both desperately wants to form emotional connections with others and intensely fears those same attachments, viewing them as inherently unsafe and unstable. The player can see this in the way Baxter attempts to form lots of superficial connections where he overshares personal details while also being evasive about his deeper feelings. He is aware that he needs some level of human interaction and works to fill that need without leaving himself vulnerable to being hurt or abandoned. This can occur in individuals who had inconsistent parents growing up. Baxter's relationship to dancing mirrors his emotional progression with attachment to others.

As a child, he has a stable group of friends and dances at the country club competitively, and thus likely has a stable, consistent partner with whom he performs. We know very little about Mr. and Mrs. Ward, except for the following:

They are older.

They are wealthy, and likely old money.

They are bigoted, like being queerphobic and racist.

They expected Baxter to behave with greater maturity than would have been typical for his age and "at times, as if he was even older [than them]."

He did not want to spend his first summer after college with them, so they shipped him off to a tiny beachside tourist town, either not caring or not knowing that he is petrified of the ocean.

Something about Baxter would be a problem, and they would hate him if he were someone else's child.

From this, we can garner a few things. The first is that the Wards were likely emotionally immature, possibly parentified him, and likely played "it's okay if it's you" card. When we meet Baxter as a child in OLNF, he is clearly very fond of Qiu, Ren, and possibly Tamarack and Franky as well. These relationships likely provided insulation from parents who alternated between being emotionally distant and overcontrolling. It also makes sense that Baxter would be drawn to younger children here. Baxter chalks it up to his own immaturity, but I would argue that it is in fact because he is precocious that he chooses a younger friend group. Kids his own age would likely be put off by his attitude and may take it as condescending, whereas younger children would appreciate him as older and wiser. Additionally, younger children give him the opportunity to play and engage in silly antics that he may have missed out the first time.

I also wouldn't be surprised if there was some cognitive dissonance as well, since his parents probably espoused queerphobic ideals while also professing to love Baxter, who himself is bisexual and knew very well that he was attracted to boys by the age of 12. Given this, and the amount of bitterness with which he later speaks about them, it also would not surprise me if they had some influence on his drifting apart from Ren and Qiu as they got older. Not that this has to be the case, but I could see Baxter avoiding bringing his very-visibly queer friends (including one who is also a POC) around his parents to avoid hurting them.

He grows up and appears in OLBA as a teen who is somewhat adrift. He doesn't appear to have a stable friend group or sense of identity, and he has limited his contact with his parents to the minimum amount that he feels obligated to contact them. Now, shifting identity is pretty normal for young adults, but Baxter's seems less stable than it should be. What I actually thought was really interesting is the subtle shift between Baxter as he presents himself and as he actually is. He presents himself as accommodating, complimentary, confident, and friendly. The person he actually is -- the one he thinks no one will like -- is sardonic, self-effacing, mischievous, and lonely. In his desire to be included, he avoids imposing his will on others -- Jamie can even convince him to wear a swimsuit and go into the ocean if they really want, something he is terrified to do. He is only able to be genuine if either (a) Jamie has made an explicit effort to show him he is accepted or (b) he is emotionally dysregulated enough that he is unable to keep up the charade

Anyway, at this point, he is presumably no longer competing, and no longer has a steady partner. In his first interaction with Jamie and Cove, he is immediately offering to be their partner, which is a deliberate double-entendre. He comes on strong, because he needs the relationship to begin quickly in order the get what he needs out of it. He has no intention of actually taking the time to get to know people or build a genuine connection with them. It's about control here. Also note that he offers this with the implication that he would be teaching them to dance. Even in asking for a temporary connection, he's framing it as him offering a service in exchange for their company because he doesn't see himself as valuable on his own (Qiu also does this btw). In summary, he is dancing with people he barely knows because while the steps won't be familiar or comforting, he doesn't have to worry about mistakes either. (dun dun dun, the mortifying ordeal of being known!)

As an adult, he shifts this into a more formalized version. He isn't stupid, nor does he enjoy hurting people. He knows that most people are unwilling to abandon relationships so quickly, and he knows he's hurt people. The thing about attachment styles is that you can develop a secure attachment style as an adult. The problem is that you do this by essentially re-parenting yourself. Learning to treat himself with self-compassion is really difficult, though, because that's a learned skill. He needs community or a therapist. The problem is that because of his disorganized attachment style, forming a community is difficult and he would probably also have trouble finding a therapist because that would require a level of vulnerability that he struggles with. Baxter also heavily relies on avoidance as a coping mechanism. When he enters into a relationship, because he is primed to view them as unpredictable and conditional, it activates his fight-flight-freeze response. He then attempts to escape the situation by (a) leaving, (b) ghosting/ignoring, and (c) distancing himself using social niceties to avoid confrontation. If he is cornered (like the end of step 3), he switches to fight mode and becomes caustic. This may indicate that if he entered a therapeutic relationship, he is likely to end therapy prematurely to avoid thinking about his loneliness and attachment issues.

So, because he knows he hurts people by doing all of this, and because he doesn't know how to maintain a relationship, he formalizes the arrangement. People literally pay him for a service (planning) and because he is "in" on such an intimate event, he still gets the feeling of getting to know people and be included, without the emotional risk. Same thing with dancing.

That's why dancing with him after the wedding is such a big deal. Yes, it's a callback to a very special moment for Baxter, but it's also a metaphor for re-entering a relationship. He's been looking at and judging his relationships on the ruptures not the repairs, and to be able to repair a relationship after the mask has come off, the set's been wrecked, and the crowd is gone means that he has lived a lonely life for no reason.

Anyway, all this is to say that Cove was 100% right when he clocked that Baxter was insincere and interacted with people in a really weird way. No one listened though.

[verystrxxwberry]

MY CANDY LOVE; “Could you hug me?”

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, MCL routes (all of them), comfort. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Well, as promised, here it is the last part with mcl! Sorry if it isn’t the best content, I’ve made this while being sick :’)

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

❖ CASTIEL ;; His eyebrow rises the moment he hears you say that, and you see him hesitate for a few seconds about why you need such a hug. Still, with a neutral expression, he shrugs and says "sure, if you need it". His arm reaches out and invites you into his embrace. Castiel is not very good at comforting, but he cares about you and is worried. His hand rubs your side gently. His scent of strong deodorant, mixed with cologne and tobacco essence is somewhat comforting in a way; it reminds you that it's him. And that he is also allowing you to be in an embrace with him.

❖ NATHANIEL ;; A small smile breaks out on his face when you ask him, plus his cheeks painting in a reddish color. "Oh, does anyone need some cuddles?" He would say in a slightly teasing manner, coming over to wrap his arms around you. He loves having you close and being able to smell your scent. Nathaniel loves to feel the shape of your body against his, caressing your waist, back and shoulders. In fact, it would be on your shoulders where he would take the opportunity to leave some delicate kisses. "Better this way?" he would whisper, while only separating his face to look at you, probably sticking his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed and waiting for you to be the one to initiate the separation of the embrace.

❖ LYSANDER ;; Lysander's hugs feel like an event capable of renewing your life towards a better one. The moment you ask him, a concern shows through his eyes, and by a hand on your hip he draws you into his lap. Then he hugs you carefully not to squeeze you too tightly, as if you were a delicate flower. "Is there a specific reason for requesting a hug, my dear?" He would ask, but not even showing discomfort. One of his hands caresses your hair, while holding you close to him, he would even begin to sing some secret soft melody he has composed, trying to get you to relax.

❖ KENTIN ;; The things I would do to bury myself in those pecs.... The proposal makes him quite shy, but his gaze would soften and he would undoubtedly draw you in for a hug. "You don't even have to ask." His grip is firm and warm, while remaining static so you can enjoy every second of the moment. At some point his hand cups your cheek and he plants a small kiss on your lips. "Everything okay?" he would ask you, checking your face down to the smallest detail to see that you are really okay. 

❖ ARMIN ;; The hugs with Armin are spontaneous and crushing, just like those with Alexy. It is very common that while he or you are playing on the computer, he sits you on his lap and hugs you with one or two arms around your waist. But the moment you ask him for a hug while he is in the middle of a game, he doesn't bother to pause the game (unless it costs him sweat and tears) and holds you in his arms. "Do you want to pass this isaac run for me?" he would ask you with a playful tone, as he pulls you to him to invite you into his lap. His way of comforting and cheer you up is to offer you his games for you to enjoy and play while he spreads caresses and kisses all over your back.

❖ RAYAN ;; He would close his book and patpat beside him for you to sit down, then he would put his arm around both your shoulders and draw you in to rest on his chest. "Close your eyes and rest, I'll be here" As he holds the book with one hand, with the other he strokes your head to relax you. He is worried about you, but he prefers give you enough time to organize your thoughts as long as you talk to him about it later. He likes to help you with any issues or overthinking. A pretty and smart brain like yours shouldn't be wasting time on other unnecessary stuff.

❖ HYUN ;; His heart skips a beat the moment you ask him that question, and he nervously starts to laugh. "Oh, how sweet! Of course yes, I couldn't say no to something so adorable." He says as he reaches over to squeeze you for several seconds. He'd mumble a few questions, but generally keep his smile full of love knowing that you've chosen to turn to him when you needed something as comforting as a hug. He loves them!

❖ PRIYA ;; Her presence is already enough to give comfort, imagine her hugs. In addition to the sweet scent of her perfume and the affection of her touch, her soft and low voice in accordance with the environment. Priya also often resorts to hugging you to release stress, asking you in the same way so she can spend a few good minutes cuddling with you. So in the same way, she would take you somewhere private if you are not already, and spend the necessary time snuggling you against her. "You're doing great, honey" she whispers to you from time to time, kissing the top of your head; whether something has happened or not, she wants you to know how proud she is of you.

✩; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it!

[jolenes-doppelganger]

hi! so I have this idea that won't leave my mind about a fanfic/story between lady jessica x fem! reader. basically reader is part of one of the great houses and she married duke leto because of a political alliance. jessica was already leto’s concubine and paul had already been born too.

the relationship between reader and jessica was never the best one. jessica always had this pet peeve with reader, maybe jealousy because she was married with leto, but reader never wanted to be married with him and never had romantic feelings for him too.

they relationship began to change when they come to arrakis, specifically when they are left in the desert to die (is “saved” by the harkonnen also because he is a member of one of the great houses).

jessica sees the reader as the only thing left of what she called home, then she starts to develop feelings. reader already had some “strange” feelings for jessica, like a devotion/admiration to a goddess.

– s

ps: i’m the same person who requested the jessica x fem! corrino reader.

[Hi Anon! Keeping me busy, I see :)]

Riptides

Lady Jessica x Fem! Duchess Reader

Summary: The past haunts. It puts things both bad and good into perspective. Whether it is to mend or to separate, that is entirely up to the doer.

Warnings: None, just overall angsty. (Hurt + Comfort).

A/N: This work is contrived of ‘ficlets’. Plain text moves linearly, set in Dune II after Jamis has been killed. Italicized text does not move linearly, pertaining to snapshots of the past. R is the sister of Lord Fenring, not shown in the movie. (This is not a white or perceived to be white character, it is as self-insert as possible). I also did my best to lean into realism, (less R admiration of Jessica, more conflict), as it is more my style. !!! I really, really, really, really like exploring true characterization or playing around with characters, so this is a very angsty fic !!! (Alia steals the show, again).

Word Count: 4.2k

Paul was an uneasy sleeper. Looking at Jessica as she twitched in the Fremen tent, you realized just where he had gotten it from. Jessica was coated in sweat. Paul was the furthest away from you. It was a sad truth that neither of them ever really warmed up to you. And how could you blame them? The marriage to House Atreides was nothing you’d ever asked for. It just was. But Jessica couldn’t understand that. And you wouldn’t try to make her understand that. Perhaps if things had gone differently from the start, perhaps if you’d been given the opportunity to make her acquaintance before you were dragged to the marital bed… None of it mattered.

Jessica twitched again, an unpleasant dream. The duke was dead. Your protection was gone, and by some miracle you’d made it with the other two out of the desert and into the path of the Fremen. Paul had fought for his right to live, Jessica had bested Stilgar, then killed Jamis to protect him and his mother’s right in the Fremen, but you? The best you had was the Bene Gesserit training given to all noble women of high ranking houses. A Sayyadina, like Jessica. It put you in a poor place with the Fremen.

“Hnnmm-” Jessica jerked.

You looked at her, analyzing her facial expressions. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, lunging.

“Jessi-”

Her hands gripped your shoulder as she pushed you down, prepared to strike. The dim light of the eclipse halted her motions.

“Oh.” she gasped.

Her blue eyes were wide, and afraid. It must have been a hell of a dream.

“All this time and I still forget there’s three of us.” 

Loud voices came from inside the Duke’s chambers. He’d called you here, supposedly to meet with Jessica. Your earlier interactions were never pleasant, she was clipped with you.

“Jessica, please. She is a political ally and another route of maintaining peace upon Arrakis.” Duke Leto reasoned with his concubine.

“And a force of contention in this house! She is slow to learn the Fremen ways, slow to develop relationships with the house staff, and worse, her closest friend is a teenage boy.”

“Paul is close to her age it is reasonable-”

“Yes. They are close in age. I wonder why that is.”

Duke Leto didn’t answer, rather he opened the door, gesturing you inside. You wore thin, flowy clothing, similar to the clothing worn in House Fenring. It was far less conservative than Jessica’s, and you supposed that was a mistake in and of itself. The Duke paid no attention to your clothes. One night to seal your marriage, as was custom. The Bene Gesserit had already decided you would not bear an Atreides child. You slept with him the night after your period had ended. No child would have been conceived, no heir above Paul.

“There are three of us in this marriage.” Leto spoke. “For better or worse, we need to remain as one unit,” he made a circular gesture with his hands, “And that cannot happen without work to build the cohesion between the two of you.”

Jessica’s eyes were bright, intense, her mouth drawn into a thinly concealed scowl.

“Lady Jessica,” you began. “If it is my friendship with Paul that worries you, I will end it.”

Jessica gave one last look at her Duke, leaving before she had spoken a word to you. 

Jessica crouched in the sand, taking refuge from the heat in a cluster of boulders. You couldn’t blame her, she was nauseous. The babe produced nausea as it was, but the sight of water collection from several still living Harkonnens couldn’t have made it any better. She looked green, practically, having thrown up in the sand. Stilgar had scooped it into a bag, attaching it to a pack. No waste. But the lack of water wasn’t going to help her.

“Jessica.” you murmured, crouching beside her on the ground. “Here.”

You exposed the straw from your suit, offering it to her.

“I can’t accept it.” Jessica shook her head.

“It’s a gift for my future step-daughter. You can and you will.”

Jessica didn’t really mean it when she refused the water. She knew you’d press the issue, and she’d accept. She needed the water, and you could do without a little water for a little while. The only issue was that it required bringing her face close to you, which she did. The water was warm. The same temperature as your body, but it did the trick. She drank a few mouthfuls of water, more than she needed, but you didn’t object. She’d take what she could get from you, although her mindset was starting to change.

“The young Lady Fenring, sister of Lord Fenring.” Reverend Gauis Helen Mohiam drawled. “The Bene Gesserit have secured you a marriage…”

So that was what she was here for? A marriage was reasonable, you were of the age to be used to further the Bene Gesserit breeding program. 

“There’s a catch.” the Reverend spoke, holding her hand up to prevent you from assenting. “The union is childless.”

Your mouth snapped shut. A childless marriage? What kind of a thing was that? The Bene Gesserit was better off training you to be a junior reverend than marrying you to a man without birthing a child. What of the breeding programme? What of the needed changes to be made to the bloodlines with the Atreides resistance?

“You will be our spy. There are many eyes upon House Atreides, but we need eyes from inside.”

“What of Lady Jessica, your reverence?”

Helen Mohiam chuffed at that.

“Lady Jessica has served her own purpose since she fell in love with her Duke. One of my best pupils, one of my worst failures. You are young, unswayed by the love of men, swayed by the approval and service to your sisters of the Bene Gesserit. You will serve us well there.”

Taking a breath in, you nodded once.

“I assume Lady Jessica is not to be made aware of this?”

“Lady Jessica should never know of the master you serve. Your duty is to play the role of a jealous wife. Distance between Jessica and you is the only way our intel can be confirmed. Do not get close. Never, ever, give her reason to suspect you are anything but madly in love with the Duke Atreides.”

“You never cried over my father.” Paul murmured to you, sitting on a dune during nightfall.

It was peaceful tonight. The dunes of Arrakis were calm, without wind whipping over the sand, without the whirr of Harkonnen machinery.

“The Fremen don’t waste water. We are Fremen.”

“No. Before. In the tent we slept in before Duncan found us, you did not cry. You were scared, and upset, but you…”

“I never loved your father. I was his wife in name and rank. But I never loved him.” you admitted, not looking at him.

Paul went quiet. He was a deep thinker, like his father. An inner monologue that only they were privy to playing in their head at all moments, a monologue that very rarely came to the surface.

“I knew your father for six months. We were married in a time of great uncertainty for your house, a time of great uncertainty for the Bene Gesserit and Landsraad. There was no time to love him. But I respected him.”

Paul gave a bob of his head. There was sand in his hair. You reached over, shaking it clean. His hair was getting long.

“You need a haircut.” 

“The Fremen don’t all have short hair.”

“Long hair on the warmest part of your head, the head that is most directly exposed to the sun, is a poor idea. Give me your crysknife.”

“It’s ceremonial.” Paul corrected, offended. “And Jessica has long hair, as does Chani.”

You sighed. That it was. They were only drawn when someone was to die, or when handed down from one individual to another. It would be borderline sacrilegious to use it for a haircut. Chani had thick hair, like the Fremen, and Paul had thick hair too, but he was complaining of headaches, from adjustment to the desert climate, you assumed.

“I’m cutting it off.” you decided.

One of the fremen had an iron knife, generally used for cooking. You cut Paul’s hair, leaving the top of his head longer and the sides short. You bagged the hair.

“Do you want to keep it?” you asked the boy.

“Hair doesn’t hold water.”

“It’s said to hold memory.” you murmured. “Do you want to keep it?”

Paul shook his head. He had enough memories in his head to remain unbothered with those from a scrap of hair.

“I’ll keep it.” Jessica murmured, reaching forward for the bag of hair.

She tucked it away in a pouch on her stillsuit. She seemed equally sentimental as she was a bit sad.

“I had a trimming of his baby hair.” Jessica murmured, brow furrowed. “It would have been burned with the rest of Arrakeen.”

You looked up at her, and then nodded once. A box of sentimental items was something you and Jessica seemed to share. Both went up in flames with the Arrakis city. The only thing left of your lives before being the both of you and Paul. Jessica settled beside you, sitting on the dune with you. She was deep in thought, and for good reason. The past was a territory she chartered regularly, for better or worse. 

“Were we ever competing for Leto?” Jessica asked, voice soft, and yet tinged with a scratchiness caused by water retention.

The thought itself was a sad one, and a bit difficult to answer. The Bene Gesserit order had dictated that you play the role of the devoted spouse. It was under their orders that you’d romance Leto, vying for his attention, for his trust, for his innermost thoughts; those that were not as secret as he may have believed. Perhaps you’d played a role in the downfall of House Atreides? No. Not perhaps. The information you’d provided the Reverend Mother had led to the Emperor’s decision to exterminate House Atreides. Of course you had never known it was the plan of the order, but… How much of the fall of House Atreides were you responsible for.

“I…”

Tears sprung in your eyes. Tears you couldn’t cry, a waste of a body’s water. And yet your chest ached. The muscles in your throat contracted painfully, and you blinked rapidly to dispel the tears. Tension grew in your lungs as your body fought against sobs.

“Oh.” Jessica said.

Oh.

Oh? That was all?

Leto rolled in his sleep, wet breath ghosting over your bare shoulder. You’d assumed he’d leave after the marital act, returning to his bed with Jessica, but he hadn’t. Rather, the man had slumped over into the bed, closing his eyes and letting out a weary sigh, as if to say ‘it’s done’. There was wetness between your thighs; wetness that you weren’t responsible for. Sure, you’d forced your body into being wet enough to take the Duke of House Atreides, but this particular remnant was not yours. It disturbed you.

The cool of the washroom felt heavenly, and you were grateful for the stone walls and the shades over the windows. Castle Atreides was wet, the rain of the ocean planet keeping a humidity in the air that would corrode traditional drywall. Not that the staff didn’t keep things spotless, but in most other circumstances, one could have fretted over black mold.

“What are you doing?” a deep baritone voice ghosted in the bathroom.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your skin clean, trying to rid yourself of the act.

“... Bathing.” you answered the Duke Leto.

He stared down at you for sometime.

“I shared the post-coital bath with Lady Jessica on our first night.” he mused.

“I am not her.” you replied, voice taut with a bit of discomfort.

Leto nodded, and without waiting for permission, he stepped inside the bath with you. It was a show of equality, giving you what he had given her. But it was wrong, in a lot of ways. You didn’t deserve his equality, even though the Bene Gesserit tasked you with taking more than equal share of his love.

“Does my age bother you?” Leto finally broke the silence.

“No.” you answered quickly. “It’s not about age, it’s about-”

“-Duty?” Leto cut you off.

You nodded once. The Duke of Caladan was attractive. No question about it. A chiseled jaw, a firm, strong build and commanding manner, he looked good for his age. Better than some men your age. There was appeal in his maturity, but appeal was besides the point.

“Should I expect this again?” he asked. “Should I expect to begin… Conception efforts?

The very words made you want to crawl out of your skin, and it was apparent on your face. So apparent was your discomfort that Leto let out a raspy laugh, shaking his head.

“So that’s a no.” Leto answered his own question.

“The Bene Gesserit wish that Paul remain the sole heir to your house.”

“They won’t have you bear even a daughter?” Leto asked in confusion.

You took a breath. Discussing the aims of your Sisterhood was not something you were allowed to do, but something Leto was confident enough in doing. It was because of Jessica. She had given him too much power, too much knowledge. Hence why he questioned you with such brazen authority.

“The aims of my Sisterhood are not to be discussed with my husband.”

“Well then I expect the same.” Leto darkly murmured.

The same? The concept baffled you. To speak about the Bene Gesserit to your husband was, by nature, against your orders. And to speak of your husband to the Bene Gesserit was your duty. 

“I… Cannot give you that.” you murmured.

“I will annul the marriage.”

The thought frightened you. For you to lose the marriage to House Atreides was of the highest failure. You would lose so much. Political rank, status in the Bene Gesserit… It could mean exile.

“Please, this is my duty we are discussing. I wouldn’t even be married to you without the Bene Gesserit.” you tried to explain.

“No, no you would not. And I wouldn’t even need the political stability from this marriage if it wasn’t for the Bene Gesserit. If you damn me with your meddling, I have no choice but to damn you.” Leto spoke, authoritarian commands reverberating off of the wall.

He was your husband, yes. But this was the Duke of Caladan and House Atreides you were talking to. He was a powerhouse, a force that could do just short of bending wind to his aims.

“I have a people to protect, a son.” Leto continued, eyes ablaze with ruthless determination. “You are new to this house. If it comes between choosing my son and my family’s protection over political stability, I will make that choice. Now promise me that you will not speak of me to the Bene Gesserit.”

“Duke Leto...”

“Promise me!”

His voice echoed off of the stone walls, crashing into you again and again. Your lower lip trembled. Duke Leto Atreides was not a bully, but he was a father. And sometimes those lines could blur.

“I promise.” you whispered, eyes wide and afraid.

Duke Leto visibly slackened in the tub, taking a deep breath in and releasing it. 

“I’ve scared you. I will take my leave of you, if that is what you wish.”

You gave one small nod, and Leto stood, leaving the tub and exiting the washroom. Perhaps if he’d maintained that iron grasp over you from the first night, perhaps if he’d inspired love, devotion, trust in him that Jessica had been privy too for over a decade… Perhaps if you had kept your promise, none of this would have happened.

The sietch was quiet. Unnaturally so. Jessica could feel the humidity with every breath she took. She hated it, for a myriad of reasons. Namely because it was like some perverted, hellish imitation of the humidity of her home Caladan. Not one breath she took had the cool taste of salt, all of it stank of bodies. Her stillsuit was a natural filter, and it sucked the moisture off of her skin, mostly. The residual moisture to cool the body made her feel itchy. All the time.

Paul was sleeping. He was an unusually light sleeper, always had been. But in the Fremen ranks, he slept deeply. It meant something, his relaxation, but Jessica was too bereaved to care on this particular night. Bereaved by the loss of Leto, the loss of her home world and safety, but also by the second body that lay beside her. Jessica was disturbed by the Duchess Atreides, former Lady Fenring, not to be confused with Margot Fenring. Paul had brought up a point, about her crying. The Duchess had never cried, not once. The despair of the burning city of Arakeen, the death of Duke Leto, the confusion and panic; none of it had brought a tear to her eye. But that simple question over competition had brought out an almost haunted reaction from her, and fostered a sadistic fascination inside Jessica. Jessica knew the language of the body. She knew the cues and the faces one might make in different emotions, she’d been taught this. The duchess had been ashamed. Guilty, crippled with some unseen burden. Perhaps it was time that Jessica dug into that.

“I can hear you’re awake.” Jessica murmured, reaching up to stroke a hand through her companion’s hair.

The gesture itself was false. Jessica wasn’t intending to be kind, or comforting at this moment. She wanted answers.

“I can’t sleep.” came the response.

Jessica hummed at this, turning her body to rest against [Reader]’s, spooning the young woman from behind.

“Why?”

You could feel Jessica’s breath on your neck. It was fainter than Leto’s had been. Everything she did, every movement or question the woman asked, it was dissected by you. A game of analysis, the both of you brushing hands in tender show of affection while each sheathed a knife under their sleeve. It was an exhausting and all too familiar game. And perhaps one worth burying, along with the dead.

“It’s my fault that Leto is dead.”

Jessica stiffened, and you could hear the audible slowing of her breath. 

“Explain.” 

There was no time to gather your thoughts. Not these thoughts, anyways.

“The Bene Gesserit tasked me with reporting information regarding House Atreides and their affairs. I told them everything about the Duke, about Paul and about you. For six months.” you admitted, voice growing progressively unsteady as you continued.

It was so difficult not to cry, and you were consumed by grief, guilt, shame. Too consumed to pay attention to the cues Jessica gave as she processed your statement.

“Do you think we didn’t know?”

The sentence was so soft spoken, you almost didn’t catch it.

“What?” you whimpered.

A hand cupped your face. Tenderly, without an ulterior motive.

“Did you think that Leto and I did not guess that you were reporting information back to the Bene Gesserit?” Jessica repeated, voice gentle.

“But I promised him I wouldn’t.” 

Jessica smiled, a soft, achingly sad smile.

“Yes. You promised him, a false promise given under coercion through fear and threat of political exile and potential deposition. I was a Bene Gesserit first, you must remember this. Your loyalty to the Sisterhood was something we factored in, everything we did under your eyes was, in essence, filtered.”

Filtered? They’d been showing you a reality that hadn’t been true? Your breath caught as you processed, hardly breathing as further thoughts raced through your head, memories crowding outward. Did this mean that you never knew them, for all this time? That you never knew your Duke? The man you were wedded to, the man you could’ve loved… You’d never even gotten a fair chance at love with him. Jessica had stacked the odds in her favor before you’d even begun playing the game. Not one moment of affection from him could be trusted, some of the memories you were just now learning to cherish, it had all been a lie.

“No, no, don’t waste your water!” Jessica whispered, desperately trying to prevent you from crying.

It was too late. Tears streamed down your cheeks, salty and concentrated with all kinds of neurotransmitters and other various compounds. Jessica, for her credit, thought fast. Her lips pressed over your cheeks, working quickly to collect the moisture.

“No…” you sobbed.

Jessica cradled your head with one hand, holding your body to her with the other. This was the grief she’d been searching for, the pain. And it wasn’t as satisfying as she wished it could have been. Sure, the games she’d played against you had been for the good of her family, for the good of Atreides, but it wasn’t easy hurting people. It wasn’t easy throwing them under, like a riptide ghosting over the shores of Caladan. But for better or worse, the outcome was the same. You’d both lost things in the feud, in the deceit. Jessica had lost her husband, a husband outside of traditional binds, a husband of the soul. You’d lost your livelihood, your innocence, your… 

As Jessica held you in her arms, she realized just how alike the two of you were. How different things could have been if you met under different circumstances. Jessica didn’t have many allies now. No political connections, no ties to the desert planet and peoples. She had a son, fifteen and burdened with a peculiar, tortured purpose. Jessica had a fetal daughter, stirring and swimming about as she developed, too young to know the danger that awaited. And finally, Jessica had this woman in her arms. A Bene Gesserit, a powerful young woman whom Jessica could work with. An ally, perhaps. A companion, most certainly. A reason to move forward with haste.

“Jessica.” she heard you whimper.

Leaning down, Jessica smiled softly, cupping your face. There was a tear on your upper lip. 

“Yes?”

Another tear fell, but Jessica would wait to collect it, wait for you to speak.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

She leaned down, collecting the freshly fallen tear on your cheek, and then lower. A soft kiss, the brush of her tongue over the wet upper lip concealed with the plush of her mouth.

“I’m sorry too.”

Her head dipped to yours, and for the first time, Jessica could feel a twin heartbeat, low and rapid. Alia’s tiny, six week heart had begun to beat.

Epilogue

“Alia!” you shouted, chasing after the toddler.

Even with Alia’s higher consciousness, she was young, rambunctious, and as fond as her mother is of games.

“Can’t get me!” Alia squealed, darting through the sietch, moving so fast you could hardly keep up.

The little tot was small, blonde haired as Jessica would have been at her age, and fast. But the robes she wore, the robes of the Sayyadina, were a bit too long for her, meant to grow with the little warrior child. She tripped, and went sprawling over the stone floor of the sietch. Alia cried out, breath immediately speeding up in her body’s attempt to formulate a reactionary cry.

“Oh, honey.” you spoke, wrapping the toddler up in your arms.

Her brown eyes were wide and teary, and she did her best not to sniffle. Alia was, after all, an adult in the body of a child. But that child’s body was filled with child emotions and feelings. Falls hurt a lot, and this fall was probably the worst Alia had experienced so far.

“Hurts.” Alia whimpered. “Can’t… ‘M gonna cry.”

You chuckled, kissing her soft cheeks as the child tried not to cry. You found the scraped knee, gently kissing that too. Soft footsteps came behind you, and two hands encircled your shoulders as Jessica crouched down.

“Did someone fall?” Jessica asked, tone sincere and non-patronizing.

“Yes.” Alia stuck out her bottom lip.

Jessica chuckled, gently taking Alia from your arms. Both you and your companion gently worked to bring Alia down from the pinnacle of tears, soothing her sore knee with kisses. Alia was adorable like this. It was the only time she ever let the two of you baby her.

“Mommies?” Alia asked. “Love you.”

You both smiled, taking terms kissing over her face as she squealed in delight. It was a soft moment during tense times. 

“Alia, should we attack Momma with kisses?” Jessica fake-whispered to Alia.

“YES!” Alia screeched, little hands grabbing at your face as she kissed all over your face and hair. 

Jessica was right with her, holding you in place and kissing over the bridge of your nose, your cheeks, your chin, your neck. And as Alia pulled away to giggle, she snagged your jaw in her hands, pressing a firm kiss to your lips.

“Eww!!!” Alia whined.

Jessica chuckled, and you both doubled down, kissing each other more passionately to mollify the little toddler beneath you. But as you pulled away, you both felt Alia’s hands on your faces, and a wry grin on her tiny cheeks.

“Mommy’s turn!”

Both you and Alia pounced on Jessica, covering the usually stoic woman with kisses until she shrieked with laughter. Time healed a lot of wounds. And the past was something you cherished, almost as much as you cherished the present. Alia made sure of that.

Tags: @ilovehotactresses, @marvelwomenrule, @coffee-is-my-oxygen, @bjoerkumlaut, @lovelyy-moonlight

[Send a message/ Ask/ Comment on taglist found on pinned page to be added!]

[neomel]

Alrighty fellow insane sonic fans i have something very cool for you today: a WORLDBUILDING theory!! this is something that's been kicking around in my head for so long that i forget it isn't something I've shared with many others yet lol

[ This post primarily covers stuff from Sonic Adventure, Sonic Adventure 2 and Sonic Advance, and ignores Sonic Chronicles and Sonic Pocket Adventure as they have been struck from canon (see: Encyclo-speed-ia) ]

[ It should also be noted that this theory is built on the idea that "the world" as depicted in Sonic Forces is not accurately depicting the entire globe, but rather depicting Eggman's takeover of just the island archipelago where the animal cast lives (South Island, West Side Island, Mirage Island, Northstar Islands, Angel Island) as to explain its geography and lack of human characters ]

Right! So, a big theme in the environmental design of the original Sonic Adventure was having the Sonic cast sort of "cross over" into the human world more - the wording on this was initially nebulous, but with updated translations and clearer official word recently, we now know that it means that the "human world" is moreso like a mainland populated by humans that exists separately from the animal-inhabited island archipelago of Sonic 1, 2, CD, 3&K and Superstars (see: Sonic Origins). My immediate first point of comparison - of all things - is something like the first Madagascar movie, where the lemurs are able to be a fully functioning society in a region completely isolated from humans.

Except it's not quite like that movie, is it? We see in Sonic Adventure (and further in Unleashed, 06) that animal characters like Sonic and c.o are able to exist just fine within the human world, to where Amy has flat-out moved into Station Square. Big and Tails, too, have settled down by the Mystic Ruins close to where Angel Island (sometimes) crashes down by, Rouge owns a club in Sonic Battle - you get the gist. Animal characters, the majority population of the islands as we see in Forces and the IDW series, are able to migrate into the "mainland" human societies, but it appears to still be a rarity, likely not even something everyone has the opportunity to do (Big might've been born on Angel Island, Tails and/or Sonic can fly any of Sonic's friends to wherever they want to go, etc.). The most contact humans have with the animal world is through the Mystic Ruins site, or Eggman using his excessive wealth to fly in and try and effectively colonize the islands as we see in Sonic 1, 2, Superstars, CD, 4.1 and 4.2 (for note: CD, 4.1 and 4.2 take place on the same island of Mirage Island)

Sonic Adventure 2's level select is obviously to be taken with a grain of salt as a stylized take on a world map, but it seems to infer the same thing that Origins' main menu and Angel Island's close proximity to the Mystic Ruins both corroborate - the island archipelago inhabited by the animal characters seems to be quite close to the mainland "United Nations" landmass, most evidently close to Rouge's Route 280 level. And given how often Eggman lays his sights on the islands as a primary target for his schemes (Heroes may well also be taking place on the islands, as Seaside Hill is confirmed to be near/on South Island), it would make sense from the United Nations' POV to try and make access to the islands more accessible. For example, to enable easier import and export of goods, help citizens evacuate from possible disaster (eg. how the Metal Virus in IDW described how it was impossible to evacuate to anywhere else but Angel Island), and so on - a way to connect the two societies more smoothly only makes sense.

With ALL that context and preamble out of the way, this is my theory, and where Sonic Advance finally comes into the picture:

Radical Highway in Sonic Adventure 2, and later Neo Green Hill Zone from Sonic Advance, were together depicting a brief attempt to connect South Island to the United Nations mainland.

You may think this is a bit of a nutty conclusion to draw given how little of a story Sonic Advance actually has, but I think there's a lot we can glean from just the environmental design of Neo Green Hill Zone alone. Compared to the original Green Hill Zone, and most of the levels in the Classic Sonic games that aren't just flat-out urban cities/facilities seemingly built under Eggman's control (Star Light, Spring Yard, Chemical Plant), Neo Green Hill Zone's touches of human infrastructure are far more...friendly, for a lack of a better word. There's parasols and wooden scaffolding, a grind rail or two along paved sidewalks, yet the natural beauty of the area is left entirely in tact. Nothing about it appears like Eggman's work, yet it is quite evidently structured for human interests, for tourism and walking/biking rather than all the funky ways in which Sonic's animal cast are comfortable moving around. Then there's of course the name: NEO Green Hill Zone, as if it's reinvigorating the idea for a fresh new facelift, re-marketing it!

But how does all that connect to Radical Highway?

Radical Highway (and Mission Street by extension) have a quirk unique to them when compared to almost all other urban city levels in the series - as you can see in the image above, they're themed around still being under construction. Compared to a level like Lethal Highway from Shadow the Hedgehog (or the aforementioned Route 280 from SA2) the holes and gaps in Radical Highway are presented as being specifically because the winding roads are still under construction. You can see this on the level map above too - Route 280 and Route 101 appear to be part of a long, linear, already-finished stretch of road, wheras the area of Radical Highway and Mission Street is filled with gaps, inlets and breaks in the road. Route 101/Route 280 already appear to fill the function of letting people cross between the two city areas depicted on Adventure 2's world map...so then, what exactly is the construction and general wobblyness of Radical Highway for?

Well, let's look at Sonic Advance again: Specifically, the end of the Neo Green Hill Zone stage, and the way the game progresses immediately thereafter:

The natural beach environment of Neo Green Hill Zone Act 2 suddenly bows out before the Eggman boss fight to give way to something quite interesting: A red bridge extending out from the island's coast. The bridge's architecture doesn't quite match that of Radical Highway, most notably using tall suspension wires hooked up to some off-screen upper portion of the construction, but I think the idea alone is fascinating enough: This is drastically more modern architecture compared to the rickety wooden bridges otherwise seen in Green Hill Zone. We're still a bit unsure of if Advance 1 takes place before or after Sonic Adventure 2, but if it's before - it may also be possible that the work on this bridge began on the South Island end of things *before* the mainland Radical Highway-end were finished with their work, with the idea of joining the two bridges somewhere in the middle.

Let's again also consider where this bridge takes our characters in Advance - to Secret Base Zone, a shockingly urban facility which we still don't really know the location of. Sonic and c.o need to zip-line into its entrance, with a background that only features light and buildings far off into the distance - is it possible that the Secret Base exists sort of like an oil rig in the middle of the ocean, inbetween South Island and the mainland, as some sort of production facility for the UN? Regardless, it serves as a pit-stop in the Advance campaign - after it, we can pretty cleanly chart a roadmap for where the cast travels. Casino Paradise's ocean background seemingly depicts it as being part of the coastline (bottom left of the SA2 map), Ice Mountain is pretty clearly meant to be another area of Ice Cap Zone given how it leads to the Angel Island Zone - which is, in reality, a dilapidated Sky Sanctuary. Effectively, the campaign seems to go from South Island, to the bridge connecting South Island to the mainland, to a coastside Vegas-like casino wonderland built by Eggman, which is near the Mystic Ruins and thus near Angel Island by extension (it may be connected to Night Carnival from Sonic Rush?). And all of it connected thanks to the works of a bridge, seemingly set up in Adventure 2 with Radical Highway being under construction, possibly with the goals to connect the two core parts of Sonic's world.

Whew! That's pretty much all the words I have, and I've now reached the max cap of images per posts. I truly don't know how many Sonic fans care about these granular details and concepts about the environment of Sonics world in games from 20+ years ago, but I hope it got some gears turning - and if there is some merit to this, it may further get you wondering as to why the path connecting the two was seemingly cut off in the end? Given the cityscapes we see in Forces and IDW, it's possible that this mutual relation between the two worlds lasted for a fair while - what could've possibly led to that bond being broken? Maybe Unleashed breaking the world apart had something to do with it...

Thanks for reading this far if you did - and feel free to add your own ideas or things I might've missed in all of this!

[galacticspaceguy]

May I ask for Peter B Parker and Miguel O'Hara with a platonic, teen, gender neutral or male reader who's wary of adults because their parents and most other adults in their life were horrible to them? It's okay if not <3

You were constantly on edge with these two.

One man grieving his recently lost child, and the other obsessed with his recently gained child.

Jess had a child on the way, but she got the memo that you wanted to be left alone.

You were not comfortable with the idea of parents, at least not at the moment.

It was an understatement to say your parents were the worst. They constantly fought. With you, themselves, the neighbors.

Being around them was like walking on eggshells, which made being Spider-Man half of a blessing. It gave you a reason to leave, to get away.

It didn’t help the fact that your parents hated Spider-Man, bashing the hero whenever they were being talked about on tv.

They either ignored you, or belittled you. Bad grades, not doing the dishes, being in peace? No, no, that wasn’t allowed.

You tried your hardest not to blame it on them. They were stressed with bills and work, leaving them agitated all day, everyday.

But they didn’t get that you have bad days to. School was a living hell, even if it was keeping you out of the house. The teachers were no help, labeling you as lazy, troubled, rude, etc etc. The other kids at school watched this happen, and believed it.

Parents of kids at school, neighbors and people you knew from taking your route to school and back, seemed wary or uninterested in you, given your parents were always causing other people problems.

But, there WAS this one guy.

His name was Ben.

Ben was old man who lived across from you in your apartment complex. You sat for his three pet cats once, and your friendship bloomed from there.

He was widowed and alone, so having you around brightened his day. You helped water his flowers, make tea, clean his apartment, all for the exchange for his company.

You had actually gotten bit by the radioactive spider while water some plants of his.

He helped you with homework, but mostly your mental health. He was a 100x better than both your parents combined.

But you couldn’t save him.

Green Goblin had destroyed your apartment complex, killing Ben.

Your home was destroyed.

-and your parents home was also destroyed.

You had been living within a program for recently homeless families that suffer from the villain attacks. Your parents were now miserable to live with.

Sometimes you would just run away for hours, not that they cared much, sometimes they didn’t even know or care that you were gone. They only seemed to care when a police officer had escorted you back.

But this time, you actually ran away.

You spent most of your days in the spider society, practically living there. Yeah, you kept tabs on your universe, but you really only spent around a few hours there.

You’re pretty sure Miguel was ‘almost’ getting concerned with how often you’re here. One time he found you sleeping on a cough way after your schedule. You were supposed to be in your own universe, but instead you made yourself at home.

You watched as Peter B. Parker and Miguel O’Hara talked. Peter was trying to get him to hold Mayday, and Miguel, like always, was refusing.

You observed from a distance. Peter was a good dad. The concept was just very strange to you.

Miguel noticed you, and used you as an opportunity to distract himself from Peter.

“Y/N, you’re off your schedule, you’re supposed to be in world-###, your world.” He said, turning to you. Great, another scolding. “I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you this. Go home.”

He turned back to the dozens of screens.

“I would if I could.” You mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?” He called out, but you had already walked away. When you were out of the room, Miguel turned to Peter.

“If you are gonna be so enthusiastic about kids, go take care of that.” He pointed in your direction. “Go make sure Y/N is actually going to the going back to their universe.”

“Oh, I’m sure the kids fine-“

“Go.”

Peter threw his hands up. “Alright, alright, geese man, you need to lighten up, no wonder the kid doesn’t talk to you.”

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed.

-

You had in fact, no gone home. You were sitting on the edge of the giant skyscraper in world 2099. You sighed, leaning back and breathing in the fresh air.

This was so much better then your life back home.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a baby’s laughter.

“Hey, kid.” Peter strolled in. How did he find you secret hiding place? He looked around. “So this is where you do to get way from Miguel, nice.”

“How did you find me?” You said, a bit distraught.

“Oh, I just followed the scent of angsty, rebellious teenager.” He took a seat next to you. Mayday giggled as she looked over at you, holding her arms out.

Peter hands her to you, and you hesitantly take her.

“So, why don’t you wanna go home, kid?” He asked, leaned back. “Don’t get me wrong, Miguel’s place is alright, but being at homes a lot for comfortable.” He laid down, arms folding behind his head. “Been here for an hour and I already miss my bed and fridge.”

You tried coming up with some excuse, but every time you try to speak, nothing comes out. You just wanted to be left alone.

“Don’t you got, like, a bedtime, or something? Your parents are probably worried out of their minds about you.”

You let out a empty laugh. “Yeah, right.” Your grip tightened around Mayday’s little body as you held her close. Your cheeks burned. You didn’t mean t let that slip, but you can’t go back now. “They probably don’t even care I’m gone.”

Peter’s usual smug smile fell, and he sat back up. “What do you mean?”

You looked away.

“They don’t… like me… that much.”

-

“Lyla, did Y/N return home?”

“Nope.”

Miguel sighed, and mumbled a few words of frustration under his breath.

“They did leave their phone here though, so you should probably return that.” Lyla pointed out. She was correct, your phone was laying backside up on a nearby table.

Your phone was going off the hook, beeping with messages and missed calls.

Miguel groaned and picked your phone up.

A bunch of messages, calls and voicemails from your mother, with a few from your father.

Miguel’s brow furrowed as he saw he quickly the messages were coming in.

“Lyla, open this.” He held the phone out in her direction, and she did her work. Your phone unlocked.

Miguel was expecting messages from a pair of concerned parents, but no. He read through the most recent messages.

“Lyla, find Y/N. Now.”

-

“They don’t… like me… that much…”

The words were a pain to get out. You grimaced, refusing to look his way. Mayday, in all her baby wisdom, somehow knew something was wrong. Peter took her back into his arms.

“It’s better if I stay away. They tolerate me more when I’m not in their way…” You said, almost in a whisper.

He looked at you for a long moment.

“Kid…”

Suddenly, realization hit you.

“Where’s my phone!?” You looked around, hoping it was laying around.

“This phone?”

You turned around and Miguel was leaning against the wall, holding your phone up in one hand.

You webbed your phone out of his hand.

It was open, and on messages.

You throat suddenly hurt, and your eyes began to water.

“I need to get back.” You hurriedly got up, and were about to make your way back inside.

“You don’t have any place to stay.” Miguel said. Oh, great, so he read all of the messages, wonderful.

“I’ve got money.” You brushed him off.

“The money your parents claimed you stole to try and get you arrested?” Miguel countered, crossing his arms, silently daring you to walk away.

Peter looked at you with the concerned, pitiful expression you hate.

“Why do you care so much?” You choked out. “You want me out so badly, so I’m going.” You were on the verge of tears and it was so… embarrassing. “I’m not your problem anymore.” You breath hitched, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

Miguel placed two hands on your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You’re not a problem, kid.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Just let me go home.”

“You are home, kid.” Peter placed a hand on your back. “And it’s gonna be ok”

You close you eyes as Peter pulled you into a side hug. You could feel Miguel staring down at you. Through teary eyes, you watched as Miguel knelt down, taking your hand in his.

“You’re gonna be ok.”

[omamorens]

a while back you said something akin to “inkblade college au.. (head full of thoughts)” !! would you be so kind as to open your head and share them? i am begging you on my knees…. spare inkbkade college au.. pls…

dear anon you dont have any idea of the floodgates im about to open but!!! im imagining two main routes for this college au. bear with me with this long answer!!

the ‘met-again at college’ au:

In this version of the events, the Rat Grinders probably broke off to do their own individual thing after finishing junior year and their redemption quests.

Oisin would probably distance himself away from Elmville but still pursue wizarding school elsewhere. Probably at the Bastion City University.

This time, he does it correctly with no cheating.

Though if he was being honestly, still having access to the full benefits from the school of conjuration was probably an unfair advantage.

So he always pushed himself to do harder, to excel beyond expectations. He’s a chronic over-worker and just wants to do things right for once.

Oisin never gets into another adventuring party again and instead studies to be some type of wizard scientist, developing new spells and technology probably.

Adaine, by this time, is already a world-renowned adventurer and top divination wizard of their age, in her own right.

She’s already established somewhat of a mark to history at the young age of 24? 25? probably younger, honestly.

Oisin hears about her from time to time— they do occupy the same wizarding circles and its kind of hard to avoid mention of the Elven Oracle.

But she was a famous figure now, literally beyond reach from a lowly college student like himself.

Imagine his surprise when he sees her walk into his class one day, but not as a student, no.

Adaine was a guest speaker and was about to discuss to them the very interesting topic of the Cosmology of Extraplanar Realms and Studies of Divinities

Oisin blanked out most of it.

Too starstruck from seeing Adaine again and oh… his chest was hurting again, phantom-pains from the shatterstar that never really left his mind.

Or is it?

Before he knew it, the session has ended. He thinks it ended too soon but the topic was actually discussed for two hours.

But his professor has an announcement to make? He stayed back to hear it out.

“Miss Abernant will be conducting research in the university for some time, and she has graciously granted the Wizard Department the opportunity for a student to take up an internship role for the duration of her team’s stay. Interested students may submit a form to me and the decision will be passed to Miss Abernant’s team after careful deliberation. That is all, thank you.”

Oisin has spaced out again, reeling from the thought that their paths would probably cross even more now that she’ll be at BCU indefinitely.

“Mr. Hakinvar? Oisin Hakinvar?” his professor called for him, and he addresses her, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Ms. Abernant, this is the top student of the Wizarding course, Oisin Hakinvar. I would speak highly into considering him for the role…”

Oisin has drowned out the noise again, because Adaine was staring at him, a twinge of familiarity setting in on her features. And of annoyance.

“Oh, I know of him.” she says tersely, “Top student, you say? No unfair advantages to speak of?”

Oisin’s brow twitched at that, answering the question himself, “None at all. I’ll make sure to send in my form for the internship role.”

Because he was prideful more than anything, and the subtle mocking comment made at him was baseless.

Adaine doesn’t know him, not the way that he is right now. Not after he’s pushed himself over and over to prove that he is worthy to be here.

“Very well! I’m sure Miss Abernant will be pleased to review your form.”

“Trust me, I am very good on both paper and practical application.”

Adaine shouldn’t even care for him at all, but she was curious. After Oisin and his adventuring party disappeared off Elmville, she always wondered what they were up to. Maybe more evil plots? Maybe they died somewhere off Spyre? Who knows.

Now she does, and the kindling of curiosity was highly-flammable, the worst of all motivators she could have.

And yet.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” she says to him, like a challenge. Oisin was set on meeting her to it.

This AU is definitely tagged as “Enemies-to-Lovers”, constant bickering and challenging looks, academic rivalry too because thats always nice. Maybe a bit of mystery because I do love the allure of putting them in a dark academia setting.

the ‘they got close during senior year and went to college together’ au:

This one is definitely sweeter and idyllic.

If you’ve ever heard of Sabrina Carpenter’s new song “Please, please, please” this is the general theme; its what Adaine would feel like.

Because in this AU, Adaine finally gives Oisin the chance to date her during college.

They’re always together anyway; with both being wizards pursuing academe, their schools of study interact in much more ways than anticipated.

Lots of cute dates in between classes too!!

Going to the newest cafe to try out their menu.

Amusement park dates!! Museum dates!!!

Bastion City is filled with things to do.

And even when they don’t, just studying together was already a date.

Oisin would always have some part of his body in contact with her.

Maybe his tail wrapped around her calf under the table, his free hand on her knee when they read together side by side, or just letting her lean on to him if she gets too tired to sit upright.

Adaine, on the other hand, was a little more paranoid of their relationship.

Was she just lying in wait for Oisin to fuck up? Hopefully not, but the chances are never zero. And she hates thinking of that, because at some level, she does trust and love Oisin, wholeheartedly.

But the past has always been haunting her in some way or another.

And it’s hard to relax when danger has been everything you knew your whole life.

But Oisin was soft with her, caring and understanding, frankly a little possessive and obsessive, but it was just the healthy amount that makes her want to drag him to bed every night and assure him that she is all his.

And Oisin proves to her that he is all hers.

Just imagine. Domestic Inkblade. never thought i would live to see the day that both words are in the same sentence.

Lots of late night cuddles, of assurances, of future plans togethers.

Unending conversations of “i love you” said in the most unconventional ways.

AND OF COURSE this is college. you cant expect me to think of college au without having Adaine live up to her “Party Wizard” title!!!

Adaine definitely lets loose at parties. She has her friends with her, a loving boyfriend, and her life has never been better.

But god she has the worst alcohol tolerance known to mankind.

Oisin is definitely watching over her, excusing himself from drinking too much just incase Adaine goes wild again.

And oh she does.

Thank god Oisin is there to [i will not elaborate what happens here, but god is it in my head; just guess].

And then she wakes up with a raging headache and Oisin is more than happy to care for her (making her hangover food, massaging her sore spots).

Like I said, domestic. Fluff and comfort and so much healing. LIKE SOOO MUCH. this is the answer to the “we could’ve had it all” tag because in this AU, they have it all.

Good for them… good for them!!

Will I write this? Not anytime soon but God would I kill to read it. Someone… anyone… save me inkblade college au save me…

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Kung Fu Panda 4 Review

Ok, I saw the movie yesterday and I have some thoughts. I think the film is good, but no where near the level of the first two. It's more like the third tonally. But tbf, nothing can top the second film in my opinion. KFP 2 really stepped up in its depth both in terms of its villain and message. The fourth film is very much the opposite. It's also very predictable and you can easily figure out what was gonna happen pretty early on.

What I liked: the animation is still gorgeous. Seriously, there were some very visually pleasing shots. The character models all looked great and I thought it was cool how the villain still has scales when she transforms. The music is also really nice and fun to listen to. The voice acting was also good and I thought Awkafina did a good job (major step up from Scuttle).

Po's dads were also really fun when on screen. It's nice to see them bond over Po and they do work well off of each other. They were the best part of the film, animation aside. The villain is also pretty cool with her abilities. We will talk about her more in a bit. And I did like Zhen and I'm looking forward to see what they do with her in the future. She's energetic and I did like her design.

What I didn't like: too. much. comedy. Ok look, I know this is an animated film for kids, but what made the first three films (particularly the second one) so good is that the balanced the jokes with depth. This film does have some messages, but it's intercut with so many jokes during dialogue that it takes away from it. They really needed to let this film breathe and have more serious moments to just talk and let things sink in. The villain brought back the old villains and stole their abilities (this was in trailer so not really spoiler). Why don't they do more with that? There is so much untapped potential here.

And that's my other big issue with the film: so much potential. Some of the ideas in this film are really, really good, but they only scratch the surface with it. I wanted to know more about the villain. I wanted to see our fave villains interact more. I wanted to see the villain use her powers more. But we don't get that; we only get the bare minimum. In simpler terms, there's no big "wow!" moment that the other films had.

Spoilers below (tread carefully)

Why did they bring the villains back if they were going to do almost nothing with them? The climax of the film was the Chameleon stealing the villains' abilities and fighting Po but we pretty much saw that in the trailer. Tai Lung gets to do some stuff, but I wanted more. Half of his lines were jokes anyway and I didn't vibe with it. Why did they bring him back if he was just gonna comment on things? I don't remember our favorite snow leopard being this comical. He did quip, but there was still a hardened edge to him. Idk. Maybe he got therapy in the spirit realm. Shen and Kai get crumbs, but again, they could've done so much more. And wasn't Kai destroyed completely?

With Shen and Tai Lung, I would've wanted to see more. I'm glad Tai Lung did finally come to respect Po and it does make sense. But Shen? The last time we saw him he rejected Po's help. Unless he too got the same spirit realm therapy Tai Lung did, him bowing to Po does feel very OOC. Nitpicking further, why was Shen brought back anyway? The Chameleon presumably doesn't know who Po is and Shen isn't a kung fu master. With the exception of the fanservice route, this choice only makes sense if the Chameleon was aware of Shen's actions in Gongmen and thought his level of evil would fit her vibe.

Nitpicking aside, there was so much opportunity for Po to confront his villains again and have a deep, serious moment with them. Whether either side likes it or not, they're reunited for a short amount of time. Why not capitalize on this great opportunity?

Speaking of the villain, so much untapped potential. Her design is great, her abilities are really cool, and Viola Davis does a good job voicing her. So why doesn't she get to do more? Imagine a really cool fight sequence where Po confronts her, but she shifts so much that it begins to mess with his head. Or she transforms into the older villains and Po is caught off guard? Instead, we get half the climax spoiled for us in the trailer. What was really cool about the other three was that we got multiple fight scenes with them to showcase their abilities. Thus, the final battle dialed it up to an 11 and we got a truly epic finale. Here, it feels like there should've been more, but there wasn't. Even her backstory feels lacking. It's there... but only surface level. Even Shen, arguably the cruelest of them all, had nuance and depth.

Also, why couldn't we get more of the Furious Five outside of a glorified cameo? Tigress and Po friendship is truly amazing.

As much as the jokes miss, there are some good bits. Shifu trying to deal with Po's shenanigans always crack me up. I also like the bit where Po tries to meditate and his thoughts get in the way. Because hey guess what, that's what my head is like and it's really freaking hard to quiet it down. So, there's that. I just wish the writers didn't feel like they had to insert jokes in almost every line of dialogue, you know? Li and Ping dad adventures are great except half the lines are jokes about how worried they are for Po or how not tough they are. Why not have a deeper conversation? I think it would make everything feel more natural.

I also wish Po himself was a tad more mature. I'm not expecting Shifu or Tigress levels of seriousness, but I felt that he kinda was a bit too childish. Po is one of those characters who loves to have fun, but knows when he has to be serious. However, he also likes to lighten things up with comedy. In this movie, it felt like he only really leaned into the comedy side of things. He had his moments, but I'll be honest, I really missed the "the only thing that matters is what you choose to be now" levels of dialogue. The proverb joke got old real fast, ok?

Grace Randolph from Beyond the Trailer described this movie as episodic and I can see it. The story bits are very segmented between the villain, heroes, and Po's dads. The flow and pacing of this film really needed to be upgraded.

Ok, that's all I got for now. I'm sure I'll think of something else to say (aside from encouraging everyone to rewatch KFP 2 because I'll never get enough of that film).

[seirei-bh]

MCL NG ep 3 - my opinion on Jason and Amanda's routes and differences between the park and house choices

Since I'm playing on my two main accounts, one for Jason and one for Amanda, I had the opportunity to play episode 3 with very different choices. Depending on who you go to the mall with, depending on your lov level with Jason and depending on where you celebrate the party on chapter is quite different, and I love that! It makes the re-plays more interesting and varied. Thanks for that Beemov! I love episodes like this!

If anyone is curious, I will tell here the differences between both options that I played (*SPOILERS)

With my sucrette Lily, in Jason's route, I went with Devon to the mall and he asked me what kinds of stores I liked the most, and when I meet Jason the scene develops in a quite intense way, especially if you choose the special scene. Not only there is a lot of chemistry between them with a show of competition and fun rivalry, but Jason even advices you, and offers you the possibility of working for him in Goldreamz! Sucrette rejects him and tells him that she will show him how good she is at her job in Devemenentiel as a rival (that's my girl!), and both toast the future failure of the other company. I LOVED sm their interaction, I wished it was longer, and it was also intense and hilarious to have that scene with Jason right in front of my own boss, lmao Jason, you shameless, what are you doing flirting with the competition in front of you! smirk

Then the party was at Sucrette's house, Elenda, Devon and Roy came, the others didn't and Amanda seems very upset by your decision. They meet Taki, and there's a pretty entertaining and fun scene of the three of them playing truth and dare trivia. They ask Elenda if she hates anyone and she answers that only a girl from high school who bullied her. Then they ask Devon what his first time was like, Devon is not very specific, but Roy tells you that he knows details about that because Devon told him when they were in high school XD They ask sucrette what she would do if she were invisible, my Lily answered that she would get revenge on her ex-boyfriend by making him believe that there was a poltergeist in his house (the horrified expressions of Elenda, Devon and Roy during that scene are pure gold XD) And then you can choose between a scene with Roy's kiss or one with Devon's sexy massage. I chose Devon and he gave me a massage without heasitation, but if you choose Roy he tells you that he can't kiss you on the lips because he's dating Brune.

I laughed a lot at the comments of the three characters at dinner at home. Also, Elenda was a sweetheart and I'm looking forward to having more scenes with her and becoming besties in future chapters.

Now, on Amanda's route, my other Sucrette decided to go with her to the mall. They both have a scene that I really enjoyed, looking at store windows and talking about clothes and picnic baskets. It was very cute!! My encounter with Jason here was VERY different, because on this account I've a low lovometer with him, so the conversation was shorter and drier, without any job proposition and you don't feel as much competitive tension, just contempt by his part, and then Amanda insulted him quite a bit, saying that Jason is a bitter and a loser, Amanda has no mercy XD Devon was more peaceful here. The date was in the park and Amanda's reaction to you changes a lot. Here she's very sweet and friendly. Devon shows up, but then has to leave, Brune is the first to show up and brings Spanish tapas (as a Spanish person I felt at home at this moment, haha), Thomas also shows up with his motorbike!! :D He looked gorgeous in a helmet and leather jacket omg. The next scene is very nice and calm, with everyone sharing food and chatting. Then you can choose between Amanda and Thomas, if you choose Amanda, you try the cake she brought, then you go for a walk with her and ride the seesaw in the park. The special scene is very cute and fun <3 and you can see Amanda beautiful with her hair down! And then you both talk about your respective childhoods.

In conclusion, both options are worth it, the key is which type of party you like best and which characters you prefer to increase your lovometer with.

Extra curiosities: -Devon's old high school love was a girl named Lou. -Brune is half Spanish, and she really likes motorcycles, just like Thomas. -Amanda seems to have (or had) a good relationship with her father. -Elenda was the first employee to work at Devementiel, along with Devon and Roy when they founded the company. She considers herself the "fairy godmother" of the company! -Amanda loves to cook, while Thomas doesn't like it too much. -In truth and dare, your sucrette can answer between three options for what he would do while invisible, the other two being that I did not mention: rob a bank or be an investigative journalist. I chose to annoy her ex-boyfriend, and if you say that, Elenda comments a bit worried and sad that that man must have been very bad to you, and Roy makes a joke about how he would never dare make you angry XD

[seriouslysnape]

One Time Encounters

Remus Lupin x Fem! Student! Reader

Warnings: Sexual content. Smut. Mutual pining. Teacher/Student relationship. Age gap smut. 

A/N: Reader is of age! Part 1 here

Word Count: 3.5k

“I...I don’t know what to do now.”

Remus’ heart was beating a million miles a minute. His body was pumped full of adrenaline as his feet guided him through the halls of the castle from memory. Never in his life had he been so anxious to get to his office. His office was the target destination, and Remus was reeling the entire way there.

This is happening. Fuck. This is happening.

Remus was taking every back corridor and detoured route that he could possibly take. He was diligently making sure to avoid the Portraits, Filch, and any students roaming around after dinner. That was something that he knew that he couldn’t explain. Rushing through the halls while holding the hand of a student with a very obvious hard-on was NOT something he could cover up. The chances of getting caught were hardly a concern for Remus right now. He had a window of opportunity in front of him that was wide open. He couldn’t not take this opportunity. He’d always wonder “what if” if he didn’t take it.

It had only been in Remus’ dreams that he had been able to live this moment. In his mind, that would only ever be a dream confined to the walls of his internal palace. He had always scolded and corrected himself every time that train of thinking snuck up on him. Just the night before he had reprimanded and beat himself to hell because he had an orgasm with floating, moving pictures of you in his imagination. His self-control and professionality had always won out over his lustful thinking. It was always the same reasoning for why he absolutely, positively could not do this.

She’s a student, Remus. Don’t fucking do this.

He hardly considered this to be impulsive. Remus would be lying if he hadn’t considered possible ways to make this work in the best way possible. Remus had calculated the risks. He had weighed the options and ran through all the pros and cons. Of course he wanted this. He wouldn’t have kept bringing it up to himself if he didn’t. The main issue boiled down to one thing: you.

Remus would never forgive himself if you got into trouble on his behalf. You had so much life ahead of you. Your life as a witch was merely just beginning. The world of magic was just being opened up to you, and you were just now having the chance to utilize your skills. Remus couldn’t live with himself if he knew that was taken away from you because the two of you were involved.

He wanted to protect you, and he was trying to be the voice of reason for both of you. Somehow, he just couldn’t let this go. The woman that he was hand-in-hand with wasn’t helping his case because you were just as antsy as he was. 

“Professor, I’m not one to question the actions of my superiors,” You whispered harshly, barely able to keep up with his long strides as you rounded the corner to the hallway where his office was located. “But are you sure this is a good idea?”

Remus opened the door to his office with vigor, snatching you inside and practically slamming the door shut. He pressed you against the closed door, cornering you just as he had just a few moments ago.

“No.” He answered.

He kissed you then, desperately and with so much need that it nearly collapsed your knees. He felt a high then that was unlike anything that he’d ever experienced. His mouth on yours was beyond any of the ways he had imagined it. Just kissing you was making him grow harder by the second. His hand came to your face to draw you in closer as he used his frame to keep you pushed against the hard surface of his office door. 

Remus had committed himself the moment that he confessed that he harbored feelings for you that were less than student/teacher friendly. That line had been crossed, and there was no turning back now. He knew that this was against every rule written in the book. There wasn’t a single excuse or reason in the world that he could come up with that would grant him a pass for this. He was screwed if anybody were to know about this. 

This is fucked up, Remus. Obliviate her and forget it.

Remus gave that intrusive thought absolutely no consideration. Forget it? He nearly laughed out loud at that suggestion. He wasn’t going to abandon this moment and send you on your way magically brainwashed. Fuck the rules. This was something that he felt was worth the risk of breaking the rules and getting caught. 

It’s wrong, Remus. You’re better than this.

Remus’ internal debate was cast aside momentarily when he was forced to step backwards due to you pushing yourself off of the door that he had you pinned against. The kiss hardly broke, and Remus would’ve never wished for a moment where it had. He stumbled back further into his office that barely had any real illumination to it. The lamp that Remus had lit earlier in the day was still burning strong, but it only offered enough light for Remus to see what was directly in front of him. 

And oh did he love what he saw.

The back of Remus’ legs hit the edge of his desk, bringing both of you to a halt. 

The desk. How perfect. How convenient. 

Remus’ own subconscious had turned to sarcasm because there was no way of convincing him to back out now. If he was going to enjoy the journey, then so was his sense of morale.

“I never- I...I have to admit that I never really imagined this coming to life.” Remus babbled when the two of you stopped for air, but took the chance to begin getting the other undressed and out of your clothes. 

Nerves had plagued you. Your fingertips trembled ever so when you worked to unbutton the buttons on his dress shirt. The reality of what was happening, and what was about to happen had come to your realization. Remus didn’t even understand what kind of dirty things that you had imagined about him. If he knew even half of the scenarios that you had played out in your mind to get an ear ringing orgasm, it would bring a blush to his face.

The difference was that you hadn’t felt an ounce of guilt for it. Remus was a respectable, kind, and intelligent professor. He was a good person outside of a good professor. Why should you feel guilty for being attracted to someone like him? You supposed the answer was a weak one but still the truth -- and also one that you shared with Remus for his own dilemma.

You never thought that this would actually happen.

“Me either,” Your voice nearly cracked. “It doesn’t feel real.”

His eyes visibly darkened when your uniform blouse fell to the floor with a whisper of a thud. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When he had imagined it so many times, and now it was actually happening in real time -- his brain found difficulty in making logical sense out of it. 

His hands were planted on your sides the moment that your bra hit the floor, pulling your breasts closer to him so he could put his mouth to work. His tongue swirled your nipple, sucking and kissing them shamelessly.

A strain of a moan shivered from your chest. Your mind was already on its way to being a foggy puddle, and it wouldn’t be long before you were completely clouded over.

Remus’ slacks were discarded and tossed somewhere in the room without much care or regard. The head of his cock teased and pressed at the space between your thighs underneath the skirt that Remus didn’t bother to remove. 

In circumstances that were less rushed, Remus wouldn’t be this fast paced and desperate to get things moving. He liked to take his time and savor the moment, but this didn’t quite call for that.

There was a new rush of adrenaline, and at this point he was running off of pure hormonal energy. He swallowed hard at the feeling of his tip being just mere centimeters from where it wanted to be. He was so close. So unbelievably close. He literally just had to part your legs and pull you over his waist and fuck you the way that he had longed to. But there was a moment of bold clarity that stopped him in his tracks. 

There was a slight shaking in your legs, and it wasn’t from the overeagerness of the activity that you were mere seconds from partaking in. The hint of anxiety written over your features was enough to make Remus stop cold. He hadn’t stopped to think about how this situation was just as high-stakes for you as it was for him. He wasn’t the only party here, and he wasn’t the only one who was going to be affected. He needed to be absolutely sure that you were just as willing to take this risk as he was.

“[Y/N],” Remus stopped completely, looking at you sternly. “If you don’t want this, tell me now. If you’re unsure of this or have any doubt, then we won’t do this. I have to hear you say yes.”

There was hardly a passing moment. It was the most confident, surefire acceptance he had ever heard in his life. 

“Yes. I want this.” You nodded, your words clear as day.

That was all he needed to hear for the last crumb of doubt to dissolve away.

“Come here.” He rumbled, spinning around to where you were sitting on the corner of his desk.

His hands gripped the sides of your thighs, dragging you as far to the edge of the wooden structure as you could physically go to wrap your legs around his waist. His cock was twitching with anticipation, basically begging Remus to just do it. 

“Next time I promise I’ll take my time.” Remus chuckled, a genuine smile appearing on his face as he looked down at your sprawled out frame over his desk.

“Will there be a next time?” You swallowed, a glimmer of desire sparkling over your pupils as Remus looked into them.

Fuck. What are you even saying? Remus scolded himself. Next time? Absolutely not, Remus. Just this once.

Remus said it to himself, but he didn’t believe it. If this happened now, then he was nearly positive that it would happen again.

“I hope so.” He shuddered, his voice husky and smooth.

There was a slight pause, a twin breath was taken -- and you entered the point of no return. 

He lined himself up and slid in with the slowest speed that he could maintain. He shuddered out an exhale as he did so, keeping his head as level as he could.

There was a shared groan at the feeling. Remus’ mouth fell open as he rolled his hips forward to completely bottom out. It was taking every ounce of what was left of his self-control to start slow and tedious. This wasn’t a throwaway moment. He wasn’t using this time or using you just for sex. This was meant to be just as special for you as it was for him. 

He felt the way that you stretched around him as he filled you. His hands tightened around your thighs as he stood motionless for a moment, allowing both you and him to soak up this feeling. 

It felt so right. It was like you were a perfect fit for him. He had never experienced something that felt so flawless and so seamless. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had imagined it so many times or if it was just that good -- but whatever it was, it was intoxicating. His head was buried in the crook of your shoulder with his chest pressed against yours.

“Doing alright?” Remus asked, his voice muffled against the skin of your shoulder that he had left a kiss on.

“Yeah,” You whispered. “I...I need you to-”

“I know, I know. Me too.” Remus took another deep breath as he stood tall once more, and pulled his hips back to withdraw his cock.

There wasn’t a pause before he pushed back in, allowing no time for second thoughts. He felt like he was spinning, and if it weren’t for his grip on your hips, he was certain he would’ve fallen over. Remus didn’t hesitate any longer or waste any more time. 

He found a rhythm, one that worked best for the both of you based on your most genuine noises of pleasure. It was a steady tempo, one that wasn’t too fast or too slow. He was consistent with his thrusts, and he didn’t leave any part inside of you untouched. 

The desk wobbled with his movements, and your grip on the edge of the desktop was the only thing keeping you from shifting out of place. It didn’t take long for stars to begin dotting in your vision. You had never had someone this experienced take this kind of position over you. It was new, and it was different. 

For now, any reservation that Remus had was gone. This was the rightest thing in the world to him right now. It was exceeding all of his dreams and expectations. How could he feel guilty about that?

Remus knew he’d be thinking about this for days. He knew that he’d be fantasizing about the next time and whatever he could dream up of doing to you. This was the beginning of something either really good or really bad...Remus wasn’t sure yet. 

You rotated your hips to meet his thrusts, allowing him to hit the perfect spot. You could tell with each push back in that he had been waiting for this moment. You could feel the pent up tension in every rough entrance.

“You’re taking me well. Atta girl,” Remus rumbled a chuckle, a little surprised. “How you doing?” Remus asked again, ensuring your comfort and complete pleasure.

“So good. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded.

Every nerve in Remus’ body was on fire. He was exploding with pleasure and satisfaction. The way that your mouth was parted in response to his thrusts and your eyes meeting his every so often was an image that he had to see again. The feeling of dragging in and out of you was addictive, and for a moment, he knew he wouldn’t be able to allow this to be a one-time occasion.

The noises were quiet. Remus’ awareness of getting caught hadn’t gone anywhere. Even with a locked door and dark room, he had a sliver of fear that someone would walk in. He’d never be able to talk himself out of that one. 

He needed to wrap this up. He feared that your friends would come looking for you or another professor would seek Remus for a work favor. In all honesty, it had been so long that Remus couldn’t last that long anyways. He couldn’t keep you here much longer, against his better wishes. 

If he could’ve had it his way, he would’ve kept you there all night.

His thrusts into you never stopped, and he could feel his tip prodding against the furthest part into you that he could possibly go. 

“I’m so...I’m going to...” You blubbered out.

Remus nodded with understanding, his head so full of fog that he couldn’t even form words. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he put all of his energy on making you finish. 

With that, you involuntarily clenched around him and a pitchy cry sounded out as you crashed over your release. He was close behind, feeling himself spiral. With just three more thrusts, he pulled out and spilled his own release. He let out his own groan of relief as you opened your eyes, beginning to float down from your climax. Both of you were breathing heavily, minds racing, and hearts pounding.

There was a brief moment of bliss as the two of you fell from your highs. You know good and well that you had never had it that good before, and it was taking you a little longer to recover. His chest heaved as he breathed, both with adrenaline and with realization of what had just happened.

He hovered over you again after a moment, watching you intently. He was careful when lifting your limp body to meet his. He recognized that starstruck, blown away look in your eyes. He didn’t know what to say. It felt unbelievably inappropriate to tell you how good you were, but he didn’t really understand why.

Remus felt fulfilled, but also very, VERY nervous.

This had to stay a secret. This was the most top secret, confidential, never-to-be-spoken-about incident to ever exist. Remus was a goner if anybody ever knew about this. He’d be shunned and disrespected, and rightfully so. This was over the line. Way over the line. 

He knew that he should’ve felt bad for having sex and sharing an intimate moment with a student that he was almost double the age of. He should’ve been ashamed of himself for breaking every rule and going against everything he ever stood for. He knew that he should’ve felt the absolute worst that he had ever felt.

But he didn’t. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse for what had just happened. As a matter of fact, he knew that this was almost a sorry attempt at what he could really do. 

This was a teaser. This was merely a taste of what it could really be like. This only made Remus want it a million times more.That scared him to death, and it made him do something that he rarely ever did.  

Remus began to panic. 

He reached for his pants (only letting go of you when he was sure you could hold yourself up) that were around his ankles, snatching them up and fastening them. He grabbed your discarded blouse as well, and he began to help you get dressed. You were looking at him anxiously, because he was making you nervous. He felt you staring at him, but he kept his eyes focused on his hands trying to get you dressed.

“Professor, I-”

“Shh. Stop,” He waved a shaky, dismissive hand. “Don’t say anything.”

His fingers trembled as he worked on getting the buttons of your shirt buttoned. Somehow, it felt worse putting the shirt back on you than it did taking it off.

“Professor,” You ignored him. “I...I don’t know what to do now.”

“I don’t either.” Remus adjusted the collar of your shirt back to how it was before.

You took it upon yourself to adjust anything else that was out of place while Remus put his own shirt back on. There was an extended silence while the two of you worked separately to compose yourselves, but it was an awkward kind of quiet that you couldn’t stand to sit in.

“Listen. I can’t just show up to class tomorrow and pretend everything is normal,” You grew stern with him. “We’ve got to figure something out.”

“I know, I know. You’re right,” Remus’ hands swept his hair back stressfully. “I just didn’t think this far ahead.”

You landed on your feet from sitting on the desk, and you stood just a few feet away from him with an apprehensive look. This was part of the whole “do now, think later” mantra. The problem was that the “later” had arrived.

“The professor-student relationship is still between us. We can certainly remain professional.” Remus said, taking a breath to settle himself.

“Yeah, but is it going to be uncomfortable?” You bantered back. 

Remus thought about that. He wasn’t sure how he was going to feel come Monday morning when you were sitting in your usual seat. Remus didn’t have an answer, which prompted you to go on.

“We’re mature. We can handle this the right way.” You reasoned. 

“Absolutely,” Remus agreed. “I just...need time to figure out what the right way is.” 

He felt stupid for being this unprepared. He should’ve been ready for this conversation. Now he felt like the world’s biggest douchebag -- rushing you out and not having an answer to any of your questions. 

“I...guess I need to go then.” You swallowed, taking heavy steps towards the door of his office.

Remus felt like he needed to say something. Whether it was something to ease your mind or something to make you feel better about this. But no words came out. He only watched you make it across the room to leave him in the silence and darkness of his lonely office.

“If this needs to be a one-time thing, I...I understand, Professor.” You stopped when you made it to the door, but he caught the slightest bit of disappointment in your tone

Remus weighed his options. Morally, that was likely the best solution. A one-and-done event. No strings attached. The two of you would go on your merry and separate ways, and neither of you would have that craving and nagging “what if”. That seemed like the most logical route, and the best one to take.

But deep down, it wasn’t the one that either of you wanted.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Heya! We recently got back into the arcana after having distanced for a few years, and I have been playing Muriel's route.

Well I fell in love again, along with a lot of our system, and we were wondering, if you could use the prompt of "M6 finds out MC is a system" or something like that? If you in have trouble finding information that can help, looking up DID can help get a good grip on systemhood!

If you don't feel comfortable with that I have a back up since we do want to suggest a prompt "M6 reacts to MC age regressing" if you haven't done that? I'd imagine Lucio's would be absolutely amazing and hilarious.

The Arcana HCs: When MC Age Regresses

~ @selfcarecollective I went with the age regression prompt, if only because that's something I'm a bit more familiar with! I hope you enjoy these ^.^ - brainrot ~

-- for writing purposes, MC is age regressing in their shared space with the M6 because they feel safe and supported enough to do so, but haven't gotten around to telling M6 about it yet. this can be read with the M6 being either a romantic or platonic partner, however, ALL INTERACTIONS ARE PURELY PLATONIC WHILE MC IS IN THIS HEADSPACE. thank you ^.^ --

Julian

Genuinely terrified

Here is what he knows: something has happened.

He does not know what that something is, or why it's resulted in you acting and speaking like a child, but he can tell it's not fake and he doesn't like the way you start to get upset when he asks about it

Which is right about when his protective older brother instincts kick in. He doesn't know why you seem to be working with a child's brain, but he knows how to take care of kids

And he's definitely committed to taking care of you

Finds that the best way to calm you down (and to calm himself down) is to wrap you up in a nice, safe, long hug

Starts asking gentler, simpler questions about what you need and works with that

He quickly finds that you're very receptive to being entertained, so he launches into the first story he can think of

You both quickly get caught up in said story, and that's how you end up bundled in blankets on the couch while he paces the room and soaks up all your reactions to his tall tale

Spends three days buried in all the age regression information he can find and emerges with a five page list of questions

Asra

Low-key thinks it's a fun game at first and just goes with it

Until you stub your toe playing hide-and-go-seek in the closed shop and start honest-to-goodness crying in a ball on the floor

Okay now they're a little worried, that's not your usual behavior

Step 1: double check that touch is ok

Step 2: ask to hold your foot and then do a flashy magic spell to make the pain go away

Step 3: scold the shop counter for getting in the way of your poor toes and watch you start to giggle

Step 4: cuddle you close and use the safety to try to get a read on what's happening in your head through your bond

Step 5: quietly realize that your mind is reverted to a young state and resolve to give you the happiest glimpse of childhood he can

What follows is them taking the rest of the day/night off to spoil you and snuggle you and listen to you and do all sorts of silly things to make you smile

Yes, this includes covering yourselves (and the shop by extension) in glow-in-the-dark paint

Yes, this includes Faust playing peek-a-boo with you until you laugh yourself sick

Nadia:

She's not proud of it, but the first place her mind flickers to is the off chance that you're mocking her in some way

After spending her entire life trying not to be associated with childish things, seeing you acting in such a way touches on relational insecurities that she's trying to leave in the dust

This concern only lasts for maybe two seconds, though, because a quick look into your eyes tells her you're not faking anything

Well, she does love to care for you

She's still learning how to play the support role when it comes to emotional connection, but she thrives on the opportunity to physically provide for you

You seem like you could use some comfort. She can do that

She calls for your favorite food, she cradles you on her lap, she gently smooths your hair out of your face and wraps you in her softest blankets

And she talks with you. Just talks, not a discussion around improvement plans or a philosophical heart-to-heart. She finds out what your favorite color is and which part of her face you like most

Her first question when you're back to your usual self is how best to care for you like that in the future

Muriel:

Immediately notices you slipping but doesn't breathe a word because he wants to know what's happening before he does anything about it

Okay, this seems fine, you're clearly in a very child-like state of mind (he's had enough flashbacks to have a rough idea of what that's like) but you seem content and happy

Why are you smiling at him like that

Why are you climbing into his lap

Wait no no no don't curl up and go to sleep on his chest, he still isn't sure what's going on with you, what if he somehow hurts you while you're vulnerable like this??

Okay, you're just resting. And you seem extra happy when he holds you close and safe. ... and you're looking at the carving he's working on like you want to play with it

Well ... if it makes you smile ...

A few hours later, Muriel has unlocked several new skills: giving the carvings names. Giving the carvings individual voices. Helping you build an elaborate plot about the carvings' adventures

He eventually convinces you to get off his lap by having Inanna lie on top of you instead. She now considers you her pup

Does begin a new collection of carvings, specifically for you to enjoy next time you're in that headspace

Portia:

Baffled

But somehow instinctively knows what to do

She can tell right away from the way you're holding yourself to the change in your speaking patterns that your head isn't in the space it usually is. She just wants to make sure that that's a good thing

Also, you're oddly adorable like this

She'll ask you a few basic questions, but her nurturing instincts are strong, so as soon as she has a rough idea of what's going on she's jumping straight into gentle older sister mode

Will find a quiet, grounding activity to do with you so you can stay focused on something soothing while she keeps interacting with you and keeping tabs on your physical and mental state

She makes cookies (has it been mentioned that she stress bakes? she stress bakes) and has the time of her life rolling them out with you, making different shapes and counting chocolate chips

Pepi goes out of her way to lean on you and purr whenever she gets the chance so you stay extra grounded and safe

When you're back in your normal headspace, she's going to ask you about it first before trying to do any research. She wants to focus her efforts on your specific experience more than anything

Lucio

It's a good thing this is happening during down time or he would be beside himself with panic

He's still panicking a little, of course, but since you seem happy and uninjured and since Mercedes and Melchior aren't acting up he figures that this is just normal magician weirdness

He comes to the conclusion that you had an accident with a spell and now you have your child brain instead of your normal brain

Oh CRAP he's not good with kids, he knows he's not good with kids, he wants you to be happy, what does he do???

He tries asking you a few panicked questions, but it only seems to be distressing you and he hates seeing you upset

Sweets. Kids like sweets. He also likes sweets. And you don't seem like you're about to scold him for blowing his budget ...

He takes your hand in his non-metal one, throws a hooded cape over you that he knows you like, and marches you through the town until he finds the closest bakery

The rush of joy he feels from watching you light up at getting to pick as many sweets as you want is unrivaled

And watching you play tag and giggle with the dogs is even sweeter while you work off the resulting sugar high

[kaelidascope]

director's commentary for the parallel hangouts merging together in Reach in MM (and WHAT WERE BLAKE AND WEISS DISCUSSING IN THAT CHILI'S)

**cracks my knuckles**

OKAY

Both Reach and Resist go hand in hand and achieve a handful of things all in one go. They read like a large time skip montage, showcase the growing tension between the bees, memorialize a handful of personal favorite memories of mine, and cover all these mod-podge collection of scenes I wanted for MM bees but ran out of space to properly expand on LOL

Blake teaching Yang how to pole-dance;

The stuffed bee comes from Pugoata's Etsy shop and I have one on my desk NGJFGFKGF

Yang not realizing the pole spins was also my first reaction touching a dancing pole for the first time LOL before I got into dancing, my roommate had me install her pole into the ceiling of our apartment and I went to touch it and almost fell off. Life imitates art or whatever

Around this time, as we later see in Resist, Blake is obviously going back and forth with her personal feelings and beliefs. Sawrin words it well in his breakdowns, but she is wanting to give into temptation by the obvious signs Yang is throwing at her. But then she remembers her life and situation and goes down a spiral of assumed futures and 'what ifs' and then just shuts down and runs off. Despite her willingly putting them BOTH in a situation where they could flirt and kiss. She's giving into natural temptation when she shows off to Yang more than she should, getting in her personal space. It's an easy mask to hide behind when she can play off her advances as 'teaching Yang how to be sexy'

She totally did intend on kissing her she just wussed out LMAO and what Yang doesn't see if she is downing that water in literal gulps because she is blushing profoundly and her hearts beating a mile a minute. This is roughly around the time Blake starts getting Ideas.TM about Yang and none of them are in the bible

Yang comes over for Guys Night at Pyrrha's;

I designed their neighborhood after the historic yuppity district close to where I lived for a brief time. More specifically, it's modeled after a fucked up cobblestone route I used to have to drive when I delivered pizzas in that area

Weiss may have been cut off from her family but she still had savings. She invested a fuck ton into that property specifically cus there's no HOA

The vibe I was going for with the fire pit and the projection outside on a cold November night was modeled after 2 experiences of mine. I remember being super fucking cozy around a fire pit at my ex's family house once and it was one of those rare nights where it was freezing. But with the scent of the firewood burning and being bundled up near loved ones, it was a rare moment of peace for me in my early twenties. Second, we used to have these family friends who had a sheet tacked up on their back porch and would watch football on it. I blended the two vibes together for this one

I can't get a lime to float to the bottom of a bottle of Corona so neither can Yang

I used to destroy the plate of pigs in a blanket at cookouts so that's why they ate those

Pyrrha's gambling addiction was born on the spot in this scene! It started with her just placing a bet but then after that, I saw opportunities present themselves and it was just too good not to pass up. The club-wide bet also did not exist until this chapter either LOL I wrote it into the story after the fact and it is not mentioned until The Hangover Chapter. But chronologically, she established it the second she saw Yang take Blake home after work.

The Chili's Girls Night is real and I used to do it often. The photo of them leaning over the table filled with empty margarita glasses also exists

And yes. We were very hungover after (there are more photos that exist, but for the sake of pre-transition face reveal, I'll send them to you Spork in DMs after if you wanna see them LOL)

So on this particular night, Weiss spent a good chunk of it complaining about her usual gripes. After three drinks, she asks Blake about Yang. What Yang DOESN'T see is how supportive Weiss actually is of their relationship, and she's the one who told her to text Yang and send them some pictures of their night out. Blake has been dragging heels FOREVER about dating and Weiss is just glad she's not being a fucking shut in who only focuses on working and nothing else. She was very much a recluse even when they lived together, so she's glad to see Blake spending time with someone other than Weiss's mandated outings. She had thought something might've gone somewhere with Ilia, but Ilia couldn't end up handling it. They then collectively nod and drink on her behalf (poor thing). They talk about some things in their past memories. Blake asks how she and Pyrrha are doing. They talk about some social drama going on in the club. Jaune is their waiter at this particular Chili's (yes there is lore here) and they make drunk small talk/tease with him. After drink 5 or 6 Blake starts getting loose about her attraction and shyness towards Yang and Weiss asks Pyrrha to bring Yang to come get them since Blake's too embarrassed to do anything.

Blake actually being receptive towards Yang here is literally cus her insecurities and self-imposed rules are barred out cus of how drunk she is. Yang acknowledges this, much to her dismay, and misses another opportunity to kickstart their relationship because if they are gonna start, it should be proper LOL and not something that could be seen as taking advantage of Blake. Both of them are old kind of beyond the sloppy juvenile mistakes

Blake "sleeping" on Yang is a memory from when I had a really rough emotional night during my grieving period and my boyfriend at the time just held me on the couch while I half-slept. Same vibes. We eventually had to move but I did not want to.

In the anthology series Midnight Forever, we will see a lot more Blake/Weiss interactions both from the past and off-screen throughout the original fic. Including the night Weiss made her stay and their first Margarita Night SKKSKSS Weiss and Blake's dynamic is modeled after mine and my now oldest standing friendship :) the very same girl who I danced with! Unlike Blake and Weiss though, our dancer personas were completely different and incompatible LOL we did not have a matching act

[torchship-rpg]

Dev Diary 10 - Martians & Spacers

Hello cosmonauts! Today we’re going to go into some more detail on human identities (don’t worry, we’ll get to aliens soon enough). Torchship development is progressing behind the scenes, albeit a bit slowly (the last two weeks especially have been hellish), and in particular we’re working on a revision of some of our core systems in a way that hopefully we can touch on in our next dev diary.

Until then, let’s wrap up the Sol-based human identities today.

Spacers

It’s safe to say that humanity in Torchship are a bunch of space cadets, and an awful lot of them were eager to live in space the moment the opportunity arose. The result is that, in the year 2169, there are entire cities floating free in the Sol system, and thousands of small stations for mining, processing, and refining the near-limitless resources of the asteroid belt and Oort cloud.

Spacers live in much-reduced gravity to the Earth norm; 0.35g is the ‘standard’, originally because of mechanical limitations in the construction of stations and now simply their norm. This means they’re recommended the ‘Freefaller’ trait, just like Lunars. They are also recommended the Radiation Hardened trait, representing modifications and pre-emptive treatment to cope with living outside of a planet’s magnetosphere and atmosphere. This gives you inbuilt reduction against radiation damage in exchange for slower passive healing due to the metabolic cost of those redundancies.

Spacers are divided into two broad categories; Habitat Spacers and Deep Spacers. As the name implies, ‘Habbers’ live in the many purpose-built space habitats which orbit Earth and, to a lesser degree, the other planets in the Sol system. These habitats are enormous technological wonders and a vital step in the space-based economy of the Solar Union, containing the light manufacturing facilities which turn the resources of Luna, the outer system, and beyond into consumer goods. They also help route the people and resources flowing to and from Earth, ensuring the colonies get fed and Earth reaps the benefits of large-scale industry without the environmental cost.

Habbers might live in space, but their day-to-day isn’t much different from their Terran cousins. Their habitats are huge, massive cities with equally large green areas. Standout habitats include L5 Hab, home of Star Patrol HQ and Academy, L4 ‘Guest Star’, the former headquarters of the PLA’s astromilitary and current HQ of Star Force, and Destination Station, the orbital anchor for Earth’s space elevator. 

Habbers, especially L4 and L5 citizens, made up a disproportionate amount of Solar Patrol members back in the day, so they get recommended the ‘Veteran’ Trait, scoring you reduced Stress in combat and bonus Security/Tactical certs in exchange for a lowered total Stress threshold. The strong presence of both the play market and shipping bureaucracy come with the Entrepreneur trait; you’re a better negotiator than average because you’re used to these kinds of transactions, but take Stress from both offering the Union’s Credits in negotiation and from the Union being in debt, as you have a much better handle on what it might mean for people when the Union’s economic systems are strained.

By contrast, Deep Spacers don’t live in cushy habs. No, these crusty cosmonauts make their living out in the farthest reaches of the Sol system, mining ice from Saturn’s rings, breaking up distant asteroids, and sending the bounty back on slow orbits. Not long ago, before the FTL drive was invented, this was the farthest you could get from the authority of the Union; most Deep Spacers are anarchists of various sorts who very much prefer their little self-contained communities to the stifling oversight and endless democratic procedure of Earth, who eschew the ration credit and play market for gift economies and black markets of their own devising. Their relationship with Earth never has to get deeper than minerals for biologicals, and most of them prefer it that way.

Still, Deep Spacers are the rock-solid core of the Patrol, because a lifetime on stations and rockets give them unparalleled instincts for the job. They are recommended the same Claustrophile trait as Mazedwelling Lunars and the same Communal Spirit trait as Urban Terrans, meaning they’re great working in a team or on EVA. They also pick up languages quickly with Polyglot, because many of their stations are extremely multicultural, and it's not uncommon for deep spacers to speak five or more languages, plus whatever pidgins are used at their trade posts.

Finally, both types of Spacers are recommended two traits which make them beloved by Star Patrol. Voidborn gives a bonus to patching hulls in exchange for added Stress when the vehicle is low on Supply, representing both their lifetime of decompression drills and their deep awareness of how thin the margins are in space. They are also recommended the Well-Connected trait to always have friends in the Patrol wherever they go, because for many Spacers, this is the family business!

As a final note, Spacers get a unique third sub-identity, the Daedalus Children, which is mostly a way of showing players that they’re free to go wild with the Trait choices even if they’re playing with humans. The Daedalus Children are a small group of artificial, silicon-based human duplicates created by the sapient supercomputer running Sagan Station, orbiting the distant planet Minerva 500 AU away from the sun. They have a psychic connection to the Daedalus computer (who they affectionately call their ‘Daed’) through the Patron Being trait.

This gonzo addition makes it clear that this is a big, strange, somewhat silly world, and you should feel free to make your blorbo whatever you want, and damn the canon!

Martians

Let’s go down the gravity well again and meet the Martians. Mars is well on its way to being humanity’s second homeworld by 2169, the result of a near-obsessive colonisation and terraforming effort through the 21st century. More or less the moment fusion engines made it viable, humans were throwing comets into the poles and setting up artificial magnetospheres, excited by the possibility of using their new high-energy toys to create a livable planet in less than a century.

Unfortunately, though perhaps not surprisingly, their maths were somewhat off. Mars is lingering in a low oxygen state, and has too many people and too much infrastructure now to try any of the big flashy high-energy terraforming anymore. Instead, it’ll be slow centuries of cultivating an artificial biosphere before Terrans can breathe unaided on the surface; despite the rapidly spreading greenery and brand new oceans, Mars’s current average surface oxygen level rivals the peak of Mount Everest.

Undeterred, the Martians turned to genetic engineering so their children could play outside. The result is that Martians get recommended the Hypoxic Conditioning trait, which gives them total immunity to low oxygen conditions and a shocking ten minutes of normal activity in total oxygen deprivation. In exchange, they take a penalty to their physical capabilities, reflecting the metabolic changes and the fact they’ve all ended up a good eight centimetres shorter than they would be without the modifications.

Martians also get recommended the Driven and Lone Wolf traits, neurological consequences of this engineering; these traits combine to mean that Martians work best when they’re alone and hyperfocusing on a single task. This may or may not be familiar to some of you, which is very much intentional; Martians are a not so subtle fantastical allegory for neurodivergence. 

The two major Martian sub-identities are The Red Frontier and The Dome Cities. The Red Frontier represents what is often thought of as the archetypical Martian lifestyle, even if it’s slowly being displaced; small groups of people living in bunker-like bases deep in the vast Martian wilderness, tending to the massive fleet of agriculture, survey, construction, and maintenance drones which are both building infrastructure and tending the genetically-engineered biosphere of Mars. This job gets them recommended the Machine Minded trait, which eliminates the penalty normally taken when working remotely with machines in exchange for one to social interaction in person.

Mars’ fragile ecology manifests as a strange sort of tundra, with spindly evergreen trees, hardy lichen, and a variety of engineered animals. A lot of work has to be done to keep it all going, especially because insects can’t survive the oxygen-poor environment, which makes pollination difficult. Martians get recommended the appropriate Environmental Adaptation trait for this tundra; they know all about survival in cold, dry environments. 

Finally, if you wanted to play one of those terraforming drones instead, that’s always a viable option; we dropped Machine Life in there as a reminder!

The dwellers of the Dome Cities are part of Mars’ high tech industry. Because of the gravity well in the way, Mars doesn’t export much in the way of material goods. Instead, it uses the concentration of expertise needed for terraforming and drone management to make cutting-edge software and media for the rest of the Union, and the cities are where this takes place. Martian cities are much more high-tech than their Earth counterparts, with lots of automated systems designed either to make up for the smaller population, or simply because Martians are already used to making robots do as much work as possible; Machine-Minded is unsurprisingly also recommended here.

Because Mars is a world of specialists, where being the best at your One Thing is a strong cultural value, the Prodigy trait is recommended for citizens of the Dome Cities, allowing them to pick three certs as Focuses and advance them faster, at the cost of advancing the others slower. Finally, the greater reliance on automation sees the Prosthetics trait recommended, representing both the greater reliance on mechanical parts over regrown tissue in medicine and the fact Martians aren’t adverse to a bit of computerised self-improvement.

Digital Elysium

Just like Spacers, Martians have a third, highly-specific sub-identity. Where Daedalus Children are a gonzo departure from the setting’s norm, the citizens of Elysium City instead are instead deeply rooted in the history of the setting. Remember how we said the Star Union isn’t a utopia? Well, this is one of the major ways it has failed, and a resolution is one of the things that can emerge over the course of the campaign.

Forty years prior to the modern day, a group of Cybernetic Democrats calling themselves the Lab Rats hatched the brilliant scheme to all move to one of the brand-new Martian cities together and use their newfound political majority to set up one of their predictive networks, peacefully starting the cybernetic revolution on a new world. They built themselves an automated city, possessed by a ghost of convenience which always knew exactly what you needed, always had a train ready when you reached the station, and always had a task you wanted to do ready to go every time you looked at your smart watch. It was efficient, seamless, responsive, and incredibly alienating, replacing any real sense of community with quest markers in your smart glasses.

When vital colonists tried to leave the city, the algorithm predicted the majority wouldn’t like that, and it locked the doors to stop them. Then the Solar Guard showed up to the ‘hostage situation’. Nobody listened to one another, both sides refused to understand what was going on. The Solar Guard rolled in tanks, and the algorithm helped the Lab Rats ambush them. After a month of brutal street to street fighting, the first war on another world, the Solar Guard retreated, and bombed the city with jumpjets until the terrified defenders lost hope. Once the majority no longer wanted to fight, the algorithm dutifully switched off.

Forty years later, Elysium City is still under military occupation. It was supposed to be brief, but the neighbouring cities who now have the controlling vote keep extending it whenever violence flares up, and each extension radicalises a new generation of Elysium citizens. Both sides are incredibly unpopular with a majority who just want peace and a greater Union who find it all monstrous, but the systems of the Solar Union are paralyzed by their own democratic checks and balances, leaving the city in a horrible limbo. 

If you want to be from Elysium, you get recommended a whole pile of traits reflecting the extreme circumstance. Vengeful and Fretful are two recommended Traits representing the understandable anger and anxiety which come from living in a city where drone bombing still happens with regularity. Prodigy reflects how Elysium City is the single largest concentration of computer science geniuses in the entire Union, due to the fact that none of them are allowed to leave. Dark History can represent in equal parts being a member of the Lab Rats or the Sol Guard, both staggeringly unpopular organisations to everyone else in the Union.

Finally, Patron Being represents how, despite the best efforts of generations of computer engineers, the self-replicating Network still lingers deep in the electronic bones of Elysium, waiting for the day that a majority want it back. Hackers and technomancers both claim they have made contact with the Network, and this trait can represent your dedication to bringing it back.

[fireemblems24]

Azure Gleam 15 (Final)

As long as this has gone on for, I'm actually bummed to finish this one.

NARRATION

Those special chapters were so weird. It's kind of funny how the plot is like, just ignoring all of that and going back to regular programming. It's like in an old kid's show when they got a dog and then the next episode - no dog anymore. Like there's kinda no point to it.

Ok, so Thales talking to yeeted Edelgard. I will never not get over how funny it is that's the path the writers decided.

Yep, we're really just jumping back into the regular plot. That is so funny. The writing in this game is a clusterfuck at times.

Ok, so we're going to the monastery to save Rhea. MUCH better than saving Bernie's dad.

TWSITD causing chaos again. I feel this route targeted them more than the other two. Like they barely existed in GW.

Everyone's worried about Rhea.

Dimitri wants to wreck TWSITD and the Empire. Let's fucking go!

MAP

No side quests again! Guys, I'm sooooo close to beating this game I can taste it. Both SB and AG have very short final chapters.

Only Claude is annoying, which tracks how this game's gone so . . .

So I've gotten all the supports for: Dimitri, Dedue, Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Rodrigue. Mercedes I'm only missing Jeritza. I didn't use Annette or Ashe, so they're missing a few, but I feel I did pretty good. Hopefully I can get Mercie and Jeritza this chapter.

Ugh, so I missed the opportunity to deepen my bond with Byleth :( Maybe next time.

So in another route, Ashe had no idea what he believed in anymore. In this one, he's confident about his sense of justice.

In another route, Yuri didn't tell me his history with Varley, in this one he trusted me with it.

Ingrid is a queen. She said it's the people who suffer in war, our leaders should reach diplomatic resolutions. Too bad only Dimitri believes in those :(

Aww, Byleth refused to kill Shez during their fight because he could tell she wasn't herself. I soooo wish I'd gotten their supports.

Ok, so I ran into Raphael again and agreed that I didn't like how we were fighting (which, imo, isn't true, but I wanted to see the difference). Shez thinks Edelgard is too cruel, Claude is too haphazard, and Dimitri is too cautious. She pretty much nailed it.

No Arval in the tent :(

Linhardt just said Caspar revels in bloodshed. That's fucked up.

My heart just broke and warmed at the same time. A Kingdom general asked a Duscur general how the people from Duscur pray. He wanted to learn because he lost a lot of good soldiers from Duscur in the last battle and wanted to pray for them in the way their religion would. It's details like this that make Hopes worth it.

Haha, Dedue was fairly chill considering I attacked allies and posed a possible threat to Dimitri. He brought it up, but didn't harp on it.

BYLETH & JERALT A

Man, I'm glad I got this unlocked in time.

Byleth gave Jeralt flowers. First time in Byleth's life lol.

He's trying to communicate his feelings, thankfulness to Jeralt for being his captain and father.

Aw, it's a throwback to Byleth giving out flowers at the Academy.

Lamo, Jeralt just said Byleth may have been a student or led seminars, but isn't qualified to be a teacher.

Jeralt's like, I knew you cared, kid. But I still appreciate it.

Byleth picked the flowers out himself. It's the same kind his mother liked :(((

Jeralt used to give these flowers to Sitri.

Byleth is being so sentimental and sweet. I can just imagine a voiced Byleth saying lines like that in Houses' supports and buying more into the character.

I swear, this game made me really get Byleth more and "buy into" the character. Also, I'm going to cry so hard when Jeralt dies. I still don't really care for Jeralt, but I'm going to just feel so sad for Byleth.

DIMITRI & DEDUE A

For anyone wondering, I purposefully saved this one and Felix A. I've had them unlocked for a while.

Dedue is worried because Dimitri keeps sleeping at his desk. He's grateful or else he'd get sore.

Of course, he had bad dreams about the past.

Ohhhh! Not the tragedy, but arriving home after. Cool to learn some tidbits about that part too.

A child cursed Dimitri after the funeral because his dad died in Duscur and was furious with Dimitri for not killing Dedue, but hanging out with him instead.

Dimitri just ignored him.

Then Dimitri talks about his duty to those who died, and asks Dedue what he would do if Dimitri begged for vengeance while he was dying. OFC, Dedue says he'd do it even if he died.

Then Dimitri asks the opposite, what would Dedue do if Dimitri begged him to live for his own happiness? Dedue said he couldn't.

"I cannot know happiness without you by my side." :(((((((

He'd seek revenge, for his own sake, not Dimitri's.

Dimitri's like, nothing I'd say would change your mind?

Dedue just flips the subject, asking if Dimitri can't just live for himself, and ofc Dimitri says no, he can't.

But imagines another life traveling around as a merc with Dedue or living as a farmer. Dedue's like, why not go?

Dimitri says obviously I can't do that.

So Dedue's like get some sleep.

It worries Dedue every time he sees Dimitri asleep like that at his desk bc he's worried Dimitri died. But Dimitri's like, not why you're here. It won't happen.

Dimitri's like, if I died, that wouldn't go well, so I'll listen.

GUYS. DIMITRI'S GOING TO SLEEP. SOMEONE TALKED HIM INTO SLEEPING. THE POWER OF DEDUE.

They're married, your honor.

DIMITRI & FELIX A

Starts with Dimitri apologizing and promising revenge, killing all of TWSITD no matter the cost.

Felix walks in, Dimitri almost calls him Glenn, but corrects, and apologizes again except to Felix for seeing that.

Felix is like "I've seen all there is of you to see." So, uh, what does that mean?

Dimitri explains that he suffers from a "waking dream," saying he sees the dead like they're real.

Then talks about the violent revenge the dead scream at him.

Felix asks when this all started. Dimitri says 6 years, but the voices started 4 years ago during his first battle? Not sure those numbers line up with lore and age, but I don't know how old they are this time. Anyways, started with Duscur, got worse when Rufus tried to have Dimitri killed by sending him to battle.

The man he killed that freaked Felix out was someone from Duscur, and the voices cheered when he killed the guy.

Felix is like, do you really think Glenn and Lambert would torture you like that? Telling Dimitri he's the one doing it, not them.

Dimitri's like, even if that's true, I can't forgive myself.

Felix talks about how if Dimitri loses his path, he's taking everyone down with him (so Houses, sans AM) and says "keep the whole removing their heads thing in check yeah?"

Felix says it'll be their secret.

"are you offering to let me unburden my heart to you when the time calls for it?" - Dimitri to Felix. Guys, I'm dying a little.

Dimitri credits Felix with the reason he hasn't descended into madness, and asks Felix to continue being his right-hand man.

Hahahah, OMG, Felix picked Dimitri up and is physically carrying him to bed. Dimitri is nearly laughing because he's so much taller than Felix his feet are dragging the floor.

Felix calls him a "sack of muscle" lol

Dimitri carried Felix like this when Felix twisted his ankle. And now is calling this a workout. Dimitri's still massively entertained.

They are also married.

Man, so Dedue got Dimitri to fucking sleep, and Felix got him to laugh.

Ok, this game is really Dimilix, the game. I swear a shipper on deck wrote this. It may also be why Felix was one of the few Blue Lions to survive SB. Writers' bias.

My shipping heart is so happy with both supports.

ASHE & FLAYN B

This is their final support.

They're fishing together. She's trying to reel in a big fish, but it's not working. Ashe gives her tips. And she got it!

Though, it seems like it was a bit of a struggle.

Flayn swore she'd not let go no matter what. Ashe says sometimes it's best to not let go, and suddenly understands Seteth. But still compliments her on her determination.

Flayn thinks her mother would be proud of her for catching this, which is part of the reason Flayn loves fishing.

She flirts with Ashe a bit too lol.

And now she's drooling over the fish.

Ashe says Flayn enjoys him of his sister and really had fun.

But then panics thinking of Flayn in the kitchen lol.

ANNETTE & CONSTANCE B

Constance compliments Annette's performance in battle.

Constance is a legendary alumni at the school in Faerghus.

Stories include turning bossy noble kids into horses. And she started using it everywhere.

She argued magical theory with teachers and won.

These make me love Constance, not going to lie.

Annette is nervous being around someone so famous. Constance calls Annette one of the most talented women in the Kingdom.

Constance loves a book Annette work, but it's mostly a cook book, so Annette doesn't make much of it.

Annette wrote a magical cookbook, and Constance is all about it.

Annette tries to give Mercedes credit because she's the cook.

They both want to get to know each other better.

This was really them geeking out over each other, magic, and Mercedes' cooking.

MERCEDES & JERITZA A

It came down to the lack fucking minute, but I got it. Thank you, Shez, for cooking the perfect dinner.

Jeritza finds and old letter from Mercedes' mother. Or, rather, she wrote Jeritza a letter after Mercie told her that they found him.

They both want to live with him after the war, but he says no.

He can't face her because of his past actions. Doesn't seem Mercie holds it against him. And says neither will her mother.

Then Jeritza talks about the Death Knight persona.

Mercie's like, naw, because you're fine right now.

Jeritza still doesn't give in though. He insists he must pay for his crimes, which he thinks he never can. He wants to get judged by the law, which, honestly, respect.

Mercie decides to support his decisions, even though it makes her sad, and that they'll be waiting for him. No matter how long. Even if they're both old ladies.

I really loved that support. Seeing Mercie support Jeritza's decision, seeing Jeritza take responsibility for his actions. All around good support.

ANNETTE & CONSTANCE A

Glad I got this one. I think Seteth/Shez A is the only other support still within reach.

Constance wants Annette's help conducting an experiment outside. Annette knows how Constance's mood changes when she goes outside. Annette's happy to help.

Obviously now Constance is being down on herself.

Annette volunteered before learning the experiment. Thankfully it's just to try and get all the cats from the area.

It fails :( I want a spell like that.

Constance is obviously moping, Annette gives her a pep talk, but it probably useless bc they're outside.

It attracted bugs, and Constance says the cockroach is a better sorceresses than her lamo. Then they attract angry birds lol.

Once back inside, Constance realizes her spell does sort of work, but they just didn't know how to get cats.

Aww, I really liked that support chain.

FINAL BATTLE

How can anyone not tell something is wrong with Edelgard?

It's so weird how they just ignore the special chapters.

Thales is making her fight.

Sylvain said he'll skip the class reunion if this is what they're like.

Ingrid is roaring to go after Thales.

No sign of Claude. Dimitri's trusting him, but I don't know about that. I wonder if he betrays you here too. Though Dimitri makes a good point that if Faerghus falls, Claude's ass is next.

On, cool image! Dimitri giving a speech. It's like a moment in Lord of the Rings before Aragorn and co march on Mordor.

I like this! Dimitri's talking about severing the past and moving on into tomorrow. Good to hear him talking like that.

I only got 40 points too. Guess Claude was the odd one out, getting more points for his battle than the other two.

Kyrona made an appearance.

Felt good to kill Varley for once.

Getting ready to face Thales now. Dimitri about to get his revenge against TWSITD. Feels good.

Shez is reassuring Dimitri that he's not alone. That his friends are here to help. :)

I think I just killed Kyrona for good this time.

Time to kick Thales' ass. Much better than killing Rhea. Again.

We also got to defeat Edelgard. Having a hard time feeling bad about that.

This battle is pure chaos. But in a fun way.

Oh, did I beat Thales? I'm at a cut scene. Shez stopped Edelgard; and Dimitri's marching to kick Thales' ass.

Haha, he just ignored Thales magic like it was nothing. What a fucking badass.

He's not even saying anything, just breathing, and the voice acting is still on point.

Edelgard remembered Dimitri? So he didn't kill her. And outside Rhea, Claude and the Blue Lions are waiting. And sun is about to come up.

This felt WAY more complete than the other two. I was expecting MUCH worse. Maybe if I played the other two first I'd be more surprised, but they set the bar stupid low.

We defeated the Empire, defeated TWSITD - I don't know what would even be left?

I love how hard the narration tries to make it sound like the Empire has a fart's chance in the wind anymore. It's just clean up now.

MVP time. It'll eventually turn into the Dimitri show like SB did Hubert and GW did Lorenz. I suspect it'll take longer though bc I wanted to use the other Blue Lions a lot.

Actually, I lie, it happened like the second I got Dimitri and not just Shez. I think I may just be a stan lol. He's also just so damn strong he killed so much easier and faster than anyone else.

You can tell the chapter Dimitri was missing for since Felix and Ingrid kept trading MVP. Then back to Dimitri.

Hey! Rodrigue got one!

I'm excited for Dimitri's letter. Still wish we got paired endings here though.

Dimitri feels reassured with Shez by his side. He's also the only one who asked Shez to stay in the Kingdom. It's nothing spectacular, but it was sweet.

I'm also a bit sad to see this one end. No more Fodlan unless I replay, but I guess there's still supports I didn't unlock.

Guys, I can't believe I finished. Now I'm finally "free" to play whatever games I want.

Def want to replay Engage and Houses, and some non-FE stuff too. Should I get the Engage DLC?

xxx