#and once again: not intended as ship but tag as you please

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Found a bunch of templates and thought it would be a good way to practice posing and drawing characters interacting, so here's some more roomies sharing a bed, because that is oh so dear to me right now!

(EDIT: I also did a colored version!)

(original template and alt version below)

Here is the source for the original template!

Grian shrunk so much compared to the template- he's so small

[leighsartworks216]

This request is actually inspired by my fic I'm writing and I wanted to see your interpretation of the scene.

Tav is the daughter of a well known pirate, basically the black beard of Baldur's Gate, but after an attack that lead to her father and alot of the crews death she roamed Baldur's Gate until the mindflayer thing happened.

Currently, she and everyone are at a tavern, celebrating another successful quest and honestly still being alive when she hears a familiar song and she sees four old crew members (family) she thought was gone. What is your interpretation of the scene, how would Astarion would react to the news, and seeing her reuinte with her family?

I did not expect this to turn out as long as it did lmao

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)

Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing

Word Count: 2,123

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The tavern was lively and bustling on the evening you and your companions squeezed in, the sun beginning to paint the sky in dramatic colors as it sets. Almost instantly, your party's spirits are lifted - yours included.

Finding a table for 7 people is no easy feat, but you manage to snag one in the corner. Drinks were served around, jokes about the battle you’d just endured and old stories of lives before the Illithid threat fill the air with an easy camaraderie. It reminds you of your father's ship, of the crew that raised you. Thinking about them again left a bitter taste in your mouth. Astarion must have noticed the distant look in your eye. He reached under the table for your hand, interlacing your fingers easily, and trying to catch your eye.

You smile at him, but your eyes are still glazed over. “I’m just thinking about my family, is all,” you tell him, as though it’s as mundane as thinking of what one needs to get from the market to make dinner. You’d told him of your father, his crew, the ship - and what happened to it. It’s been months, but it’s still too fresh. You still wake up in the dead of night from visions of colossal waves that pull your head under, and screams cut short with the slice of a cutlass. “This… reminds me of them.”

He offers a concerned smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m flattered we remind you of drunken sailors,” he drawled sarcastically. It worked to get a laugh out of you, if nothing else.

“Drunken pirates,” you correct. He watches the smile slip, your eyes become distant once more, water pricking at the corners.

Astarion had a… complicated relationship with family. He couldn’t remember his parents, and the “family” Cazador provided were less-than-welcoming at best. As such, he never really knew how to comfort you in times like these. Not that he knew how to comfort anyone, really, but he wanted to try, at least.

“Gods,” you sigh, choked with emotion, “I miss those daft fools.” You lean your head against his shoulder. He maneuvers to wrap his arm around your middle, holding you close, and takes your hand again. “We used to celebrate like this,” you mumbled. His elven ears picked it up easily. “We’d drown the night in ale and groan about it in the morning. Played knife-throwing games as our visions start to spin and double. Sing songs at the top of our lungs, like screaming it would scare away any monster at sea.”

You sigh again. Though he can’t see your face, he can see when you use your free hand to wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”

“Darling,” he hums, squeezing your hand, “we are technically in this together. Your burdens are mine and all that. In any case, you’ve carried all of our burdens, even when you didn’t have to. I’m only returning the favor.”

“Thank you.” You lift your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. He grins, all too pleased with the simple affection you lavish on him. “Now, enough wallowing.” You clear your throat and grab your tankard. “This is a celebration. And I intend to be too drunk to walk before the night is out.”

He sighed dramatically, lifting his goblet of wine. “And I suppose I’ll be the one to carry you back to camp?”

You smirk up at him, a glint in your eye. Like this, he can imagine you as the pirate you are. Swashbuckling and taking down other ships, climbing up ropes to the top of the sails, peering out from the crow’s nest for any sign of adventure. Dry land did not suit you, he thought.

But then came the thoughts that always followed. If you did return to the sea, to your old life with a new crew, after these tadpoles are removed, he couldn’t follow. The only reason he’s safe from the sun and the burn of running water was because of the damned, wriggly things. He couldn’t follow you onto a ship to be locked away in confined cabins until night, or help if the waters chose to fold over the deck in great big waves, threatening to take down the vessel. He couldn’t have that life. Not with you.

Your head was thrown back, neck bobbing with each gulp of shitty ale. You did not see the pain on his features those thoughts brought him. He tossed back the last of his wine.

You stand and gather the empty mugs of your companions, bright-eyed and ready for round after round (Karlach only encourages this.), when something sounds across the tavern. It’s a rather large establishment, and the bustle of other patrons covers up everything. But it’s there. Loud and boisterous and-

You rush to step over the bench and find the source of the noise. Astarion frowns and chases after. He’s right on your tail as you push through drunkards with half-formed “Excuse me”s and “Coming through”s. As you get closer and closer, the sound becomes clearer. It’s not just noise - it’s singing. A cacophony of voices all singing together.

You squeeze past a barmaid, nearly knocking the drinks from her hands, but the apology is lost when you see a table full of drunken pirates. One starts to take a swig mid-song, when his eyes land on you. He’s on his feet - Is that a peg leg? - in an instant, dropping the tankard carelessly to the table.

“Tav?” he gasps. The rest fall silent, turning around to see what the man was gawking at. They thought he was imagining it, as he’d done time and again since the attack. They all leapt up and rushed forward when you were more than a figment of their alcohol-addled minds.

Astarion was pushed aside as a horde of pirates surrounded you, hugging you and ruffling your hair and all speaking hurriedly with worry and joy. He can’t ignore the pain in his chest, as though someone had driven a stake through his heart. You hugged each one, misty eyed. Questions fell ceaselessly from your lips as you asked how they survived, what happened, what they’d been doing all this time. And he knew. He knew without a shadow of a doubt. He could not hope to be more important than your family. He couldn’t be the one you chose - not when you’d recounted your friends with tales of the open ocean and your father’s crew for hours.

He quietly backed away. The others ask why you rushed off and what was happening when he returned to grab the bottle of wine. He wasn’t too sure what he said. He’d like to think it was some sort of “They found their family” said with a charming grin, and a simple, but believable, excuse to go back to camp not like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, but like a vampire with things that need doing back at camp. Alone. With a bottle of wine.

Your eyes are red and your smile is about to burst off your face when you drag your pirate family over to meet your companions. You’re bouncing on your feet with energy, introducing everyone and nearly crying again when the pirates embrace everyone like family. Your heart is soaring when you look around for Astarion, searching around the table, the bar, the crowd. And it starts falling when you don’t see him anywhere.

“Hey, have any of you seen Astarion?”

Gale groaned as he was released from a bone-crushing hug. He winced as he held his shoulder. “He said he was heading back to camp.”

Your heart crashed firmly against hard cement, leaving cracks in the foundation. “Back to- Why? Did he say why?”

“No,” Shadowheart answered this time, trying not to get caught admiring the intricate braid of another crewmate. “He just took the wine and ran.”

The warm environment suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. Was he uncomfortable with your family? They were known to be rather callous and loud - maybe they’d scared him off? Was the idea of confronting their family just too stressful for him? Did it bring up unwanted memories? Why… Why did he run off?

You touch an older pirate’s arm, letting them know you’ll be right back. They smile and nod and pull you in for one last hug. It feels bittersweet. You dash off from the tavern back to camp.

When you arrive, he’s uncorking a second bottle of stolen alcohol, frowning and grumbling and pacing. He’s so deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you’re there until you say his name. He frowns deeply at you. “Shouldn’t you be catching up with your family?” he asks, but it’s bitter and cold.

You frown. “I wanted you to meet them. Why’d you leave?”

He looks away, focusing instead on taking a long drink from the bottle. It’s had no time to air out; he almost grimaces at the flavor. He pretends to read the label. “It was getting a little crowded in there,” he dismisses.

“So you leave without saying anything?”

“Well,” he begins, drawn-out and sarcastic, creating a barrier between you and his emotions, “you were busy. I’d hate to get in the way.”

You huff. “Astarion, please, just tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing.” He scowls. He begins pacing again. “Nothing’s wrong! You’ve found your family again! I’m so happy for you.” He spits the word like it burns him to say it.

“Is that what this is about? My family?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” you plead. “What’s wrong?”

“YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE!” He sighs at his outburst, glaring at the ground. His feet are locked to ground, refusing to move closer or further away - because he can’t decide which would be better. “Once this is over, once we figure out how to remove these tadpoles, you’re going to run back to the sea. To a ship, with your family. And I can’t follow.” He scowls at himself. He hates laying out his thoughts, his feelings. It feels too vulnerable. He feels exposed. “You won’t stay on land.”

You won’t stay with me.

A silent war wages on in your head and in your heart. You’re torn in two directions - forced to choose between the people who raised you, the last fragments of your father and his ship, or Astarion, your vampiric lover. It’s painful.

You step forward slowly, like he’s going to startle and run away like a frightened rabbit. He doesn’t move. And he doesn’t look at you. The bottle in his hand feels too heavy.

“I love my family,” you start. You can see in an instant as his walls come back up. His face, still upset and angry, becomes stoic and defensive. “And I love the sea.” You stop in front of him. “And I love you.”

He closes his eyes, prepared for the rejection.

“I… I had a whole life on the ocean.” Your fingers brush his hand. It twitches involuntarily, wishing to hold you, for just one last moment. When he doesn’t pull away, you tangle your fingers with his. “I want to see what a future on land would be like.”

He swallows. He opens his eyes, but he can’t look at you. He looks instead at your hand in his. “And when you decide a life on a ship is better than hiding in the shadows with me?”

You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He watches longingly.

“If I decide to sail again,” you accentuate your words with a kiss to the meat of his thumb, “I’ll come back. Over and over again. I’ll sail for a week and stay with you for a month. I’ll sail a month and stay with you a year. I love you, Astarion. And I will always choose you. And when we find a cure for vampirism, you can come with me.”

He huffs a laugh. “I’d be a poor excuse for a pirate.”

“You can scrub the deck.”

He finally meets your eyes with a playful scowl. It softens into something quiet and sad. “I don’t want to tear you from your family.”

You shake your head, stepping even closer. “You’re not, I promise. Now that I know they’re alive, I’ll be damned if I don’t keep in touch. But all they know is the sea. They have no reason to stay ashore - they’re heading out with a new captain next week.” You cup his cheek with your free hand. He sighs and leans into the touch. “I want to stay on land for a while longer.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @bloopthebat @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @cherifrog

[factual-fantasy]

So I’ve been gone working on IRL projects for like.. what, 10 days now or something?? I was going to hold off on drawing anything until these projects were done.. but I just couldn’t help myself. ;--; I really missed drawing. So I took 2 days off and spent that time blowing all my pent up drawing energy on drawing Cookie Run characters!

Now mind you, I’m not apart of the fandom, nor do I play either game.. I’ve just always really liked the characters and thought they were super colorful and adorable. So in saying that, I don’t actually know any of these characters, or their personalities. Or how they are perceived in the fandom. Most of my guidance came from my discord server-- Point is, if somehow one of these character pairings is known as a ship? Please don’t tag it as ship-- 😅 I did not intend to draw it like that. .

So yeah anyway, this might be a one off thing where I just go crazy and put my heart and soul into these drawings just to get that energy out of my system. But who knows, maybe I’ll draw em again sometime :0

I actually tried really hard to make these look nice for once. And as you can probably tell by my paranoid “in your face watermarks”, I personally think I did a great job. What do ya’ll think?

[halobirthdays]

IT'S FINALLY TIME

PUT ON YOUR PARTY HATS AND GET READY

In honor of Rtas Vadum's birthday on September 21, 2023, Halobirthdays is hosting an Rtas-themed birthday give away!!

What's included?

The winner will receive:

One (1) copy of Halo: Fractures

One (1) copy of the Halo Graphic Novel

One (1) unassembled, unpainted 3D print of a Kerel-pattern assault carrier** (like our girl Shadow of Intent)

One (1) high-res, watermark-free print of the commission created by @destinysquared, which I have affectionately dubbed "Rtas Pondering His Orb"

One (1) high-res, watermark-free print of the commission created by @ab-rinart

The cost of shipping and handling will be covered by Halobirthdays

**Listen to me. Read that again. The example shown is a 3D render. The winner will receive a plastic, unassembled, unpainted model, which measures around 7inx4in. The model includes supports that were added during printing that need to be removed. I will send the winner instructions on how to get it ship-shape (pun intended).

How do I enter?

You must be following Halobirthdays

One (1) like and one (1) reblog of this post will count as an entry, for a total of two (2) entries max per user

You must have an address within the contiguous United States

You must be eighteen years or older to enter

When will a winner be selected?

This give away will run from the moment of this posting until 12:00AM EST on September 22, 2023. After that, the entries will be tallied and a winner will be randomly selected as soon as possible. Halobirthdays will contact the winner via Tumblr direct message. The winner has 24 hours to come forward and claim the prize. If they do not come forward, a new winner will be randomly selected.

Please make it clear that you are not a bot by tagging the post, and/or adding an icon and banner to your blog. It's not required, but reblogs and likes from bot or give away accounts will be blocked.

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This give away will run until 12:00AM EST on September 22, 2023. One (1) winner will be randomly selected.

By participating, you affirm that you meet and agree to the terms and conditions set forth herein.

If a winner is selected but is found to not meet the eligibility criteria, they forfeit the prize and another winner will be selected.

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[nouies]

hello and welcome to this month’s fic rec featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —  

໑ Moths and Butterflies by @ladyaj-13 (G, 1.3k, coming out) It seemed like such a good plan a week ago. It had seemed like fate, for the town’s Pride parade to fall at the very same time when work sent him there to charm some clients. Who was Louis, to sniff at a higher power?

It was exciting, a week ago. Now he’s here though, in the thick of it, and he thought it would feel freeing but it doesn't. It just rams home how he doesn’t belong.

໑ Port and Starbord by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 3k, strangers, pirates, coffee shop) Zayn gives Harry a withering look. “There’s a brothel up the main road that I will know if you try to visit,” he says.

“Zayn,” Harry gasps. “I am your captain.”

“And I am the one who has to procure us another lifeboat now,” Zayn says. “Fuck off and find a cafe or something.”

໑ You're The Pumpkin Of My Eye by @rockstarlwt28 (G, 4k, established relationship, autumn fluff) Harry and Louis go on a seasonal date, that is sweeter than the confectionery in a trick or treat bucket. It’s filled with sweet snuggles, cute kisses and pumpkin picking.

໑ Good and Bad and Right and Wrong by TeamLouis / @teamlouis2023 (E, 5k, established relationship, gym, semi public sex) Louis angrily threw a pillow at his head, but Harry avoided it, laughing loudly as he slammed the door behind him. Louis bit his lip, grumpy and flushed and hard again, tension and arguments like this with his dear husband always a huge turn on. He knew it was his toxic trait, but at the same time, it was so good to let the tension build until it exploded under the sheets. So instead of pouting and groaning in bed, waiting for Harry to leave the house without him like he first intended to do, Louis kicked the sheets of his legs, stripped off his boxers –and gave his cock a few nice quick strokes, before getting dressed for the gym. Harry smiled widely when he joined him in the kitchen. Louis flipped him off. He promised himself he would have his revenge.

Or the one where Louis doesn't want to go to the gym

໑ Smile for the Camera for It Knows Everything, Hollywood Star by @daydreamlwts (M, 6.6k, american politics au, pwp) Prompt 132- The story of Nancy Reagan being called the blowjob queen of Hollywood but it's Louis.

໑ Sink Through Your Skin by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel (M, 6.9k, established relationship, murderer harry, detective louis) It’s tough work being a detective. Long hours on the job, grueling cases that keep you up at night, but it’s especially hard to be a detective when you’re married to a serial killer.

໑ Ace of Hearts by @allwaswell16 (E, 10k, a/b/o pirate au, established relationship, sequel) Louis Tomlinson, the alpha Duke of Yorkshire, had returned to England to stay now that he’d married and mated. But since his husband was also the omega he’d once held captive aboard his half-brother’s pirate ship, he held back from pushing Harry into parenthood.

With the Ace of Spades now docked in London, Harry spent time with his friends from the crew and remained a bit oblivious to his alpha’s deepest desires. What he was aware of was his best friend’s hurt and his mother-in-law’s wish for more than friendship with her oldest friend.

A sequel to Ace of Spades

໑ I (Don't) Really Care For You by @crochetsunsets (M, 11k, strangers to lovers, writer louis, uni student harry, nyc) “There’s always the worst case scenario,” Zayn said while the subway pulled to a stop. “Get your heart broken. Then you can write through experience.”

“Yeah, right,” Louis called after him while Zayn hopped off of the train. “You try falling in love in New York City.”

or

Louis' a writer who needs to learn heartbreak. Harry's a graduate student who doesn't want to break his heart. What happens when they come together--the inevitable, or something more?

໑ The Wild Night to Memory Loss to Soul Mates Pipeline thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat (E, 17.6k, strangers to lovers, married in vegas, romantic comedy) “What the fuck are you on—holy shit,” Louis gasps, looking down at his own hand to see a white gold band wrapped his left ring finger. “Wh-what is going on?” “Sure is a conundrum,” the man muses, realization flashing in his green eyes. “I-I’m not married, I can’t be married,” Louis mumbles to himself, staring wide-eyed at the ring, heart racing a mile a minute.

AKA: Harry and Louis get drunkenly married in Las Vegas, as one does.

໑ there's a hole in my heart (and it's got your name on it) by dilfrry / @silverfoxrry (E, 19.5k, secret relationship, hockey au) The four scream from the stands as the team huddles together, pulling their helmets and gloves off and slapping each other's backs as they celebrate their win. Louis had stolen a pom-pom from Mal earlier and he shakes it vigorously. His breath hitches when Harry looks up and their eyes meet. The hockey player smirks at him but looks away quickly.

“Did he just-”

“No.” Louis quickly stops Jade from even finishing that sentence because he’s about to lose his damn mind.

or

the puck bunny louis x hockey player harry fic

໑ love is pain, pain is pleasure by @louixamor (E, 25k, enemies to lovers, famous louis, not famous harry, bodyguard) After a series of disturbing events threaten his safety, Louis has no choice but to hire a new bodyguard.

Enter Harry, an incredibly attractive, judgmental asshole who hates Louis’ guts.

໑ Take Me Home (series) by @jacaranda-bloom (E, 26.4k, strangers to lovers, songwriter louis, wanderer harry, country fic) Louis loves his new home, up high on the mountainside, and the perfect place to write his songs. Sure, it’s isolated, but that was the point. No distractions, no interruptions. Peace and quiet and tranquillity.

But when a stranger arrives and asks if he can camp by the riverside, Louis surprises himself by agreeing without a moment's pause.

OR the story of how when you think you’ve got everything you ever wanted, life has a way of showing you just how wrong you were.

໑ The wounds that scarred our souls by @hazzaslittle28 (E, 35k, exes to lovers, a/b/o au, hate sex, angst, drops, read tags and author’s note) Forever was nothing but a lie, Forever was just a ruse for the human heart, it gave you hope and then killed you. Forever was just a myth.

Or

Where Louis decides to leave everything behind, including his heart.

໑ always an angel, never a god by @outropeace (E, 39.5k, strangers to lovers, fashion designer louis, rumours, humour) To understand the level of deep water Louis was in, one first needed to know he has had the same best friend since he was five. Ethan Astor was family to him—a friend who he loved deeply despite their differences. A friend he would do almost anything for. So when Ethan came to him with the plan, no matter how he felt about it, Louis accepted it.

At first, it was simple, he just had to flutter his eyelashes at any of the boys that showed interest in Ethan, and if they fell for it, he just dumped them without telling them the reason. Somehow, the rumors spread around campus that Ethan had an insufferable friend they had to somehow win over to reach him. Like a final monster before getting the princess.

Or: Harry likes Louis’ best friend and there's a rumor that in order to get a chance with him, he should woo Louis first.

໑ Three Men and a Baby by sun_flowr / @escapesof28 (E, 123k, strangers to lovers, roommates, fluff, kid fic) Louis' life had been going along just fine. Until one morning when his entire world changes when he steps on a piece of lego belonging to a young boy who has randomly appeared in his flat. And with that boy comes his gorgeous father. His flatmate Zayn has some explaining to do but he's definitely not complaining, instantly feeling connected to these new additions. Over the span of a year, life gets crazy, frustrating, surprising and most importantly...filled with love.

Prompt 548: For as long as Louis can remember, it has only been him and his best friend Zayn in their little flat, but when Zayn comes home telling Louis about his friend with nowhere to stay after a bad breakup, Louis suddenly finds himself sharing his flat with a gorgeous green-eyed man called Harry along with his adorable toddler son.

— rare pairs / categories —  

໑ Gaydar Lessons by @homosociallyyours (girl direction harry/louis, G, 1k, friends, flirting) While standing around after softball practice for the company's women's softball team, Harry gets caught (and caught up) in staring at Louis as she eats a ripe, juicy peach. If only she could be certain that Louis was into women.

໑ My Kind of Trouble by @homosociallyyours (girl direction harry/louis, G, 1.7k, waffle house) Harry has been a waitress at the Waffle House in Pigeon Forge, TN since she was nineteen. At twenty-five, she's settled into the routine of it enough that it feels like home, but for the past few months there's been something making it feel even better: the return of Louis Tomlinson, her high school crush.

On this particular Summer night, Louis stops by for a visit and the two of them share a table in a slow moment as Harry does a bit of side work. It's sweet in more ways than one, so much so that Harry has a hard time letting herself believe that it's real.

໑ Ask Him by LinksLipsSinkShips (niall/lewis capaldi, T, 2k, established relationship, coming out) When Lewis Capaldi gets pressed for information on who he's dating, he admits it... he's been seeing Niall Horan. The only problem? He jokes so much that no one believes him.

໑ the beat of your heart, the devil's arcade by edensrose / @holdingthornsandroses (louis/ethan hawke, M, 3.5k, established relationship, newlyweds, baseball au) “Louis Tomlinson, shortstop to the Cardinals, marries pitcher for their rival team, the Chicago Cubs,” Oli says in a fake announcer voice. He shakes his head. “One day someone will make a movie about it."

series of vignettes

໑ i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine by @disgruntledkittenface (girl direction harry/louis, M, 50k, strangers to friends to lovers, fake relationship) Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.

Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

[beastranpo]

please stop calling dazai/ranpo ‘souheki’

I posted this originally on twitter, but it unfortunately didn’t get a lot of traction, so I figured I’d post it on here as well in hopes it would get a little bit more traction and I apologize in advance for the fact I will be ‘clogging tags’ so to speak to get the word out.

I generally don't like to flood tags but people who tag Dazai/Ranpo (also known as Daran/Ranzai) as ‘souheki’, please don't. Yes, it is their team name in the japanese version of 55 minutes, but it not unique to BSD the same way ‘soukoku’ is for Dazai and Chuuya.

'Souheki’ in japanese is commonly used to describe an unbeatable pair or duo/matchless people, alternatively referred to as 'two treasures' or the lit translation 'double jade' as the japanese for heki is the chinese for jade.

This being said: MANY OTHER SERIES' USE THIS NAME FOR CHARA DUOS!! If you look up souheki, especially in Japanese, you will find everything from the Lan Brothers and Lan Juniors fom MDZS, Ferdibert from FE3H, Haikaveh from Genshin Impact, and even Fukumori FROM BSD. It does not belong exclusively to Dazai and Ranpo, so you are making the search all the more difficult for everyone involved, and you are burying and missing out on amazing, pre-existing content of them that has been around for almost ten years now.

I’ve been a big shipper of Dazai and Ranpo for that same amount of time, and the ship name has always only ever been Daran/Ranzai. The JP fans have never changed it, because ship names and team names are not equal or interchangeable. (Similarly, content intended to be shippy for them is tagged as Dachuu/Chuuda, never SKK.)

Additionally, soukoku was introduced the second Dazai and Chuuya were announced as a duo in bsd. The term souheki towards Dazai and Ranpo was not mentioned at all throughout the series until 55 minutes, which wasn’t written until 4 years after bsd was created and Dazai/Ranpo already had a ship name. (I’ve been here since 2013, trust me it has only ever been this.)

Once a ship name is created, it is not changed, especially in the japanese fandom where we borrow the ship names. (dachuu, kunizai, akuatsu as examples)

The JP fans never even brought much attention to the souheki concept aside from how it catered to the ship itself. The ship name(s) has not changed for ten years.

For further comparison, this is how the google search looks when you search soukoku / double black:

And this is what happens when you search souheki / ‘double jade’ ‘twin jade’:

This has reached so far that even Japanese fans are seeing this and being confused because, again, ‘souheki’ is not unique to just Dazai and Ranpo!! And it has been used for other ships!

If you are posting content for them, please please PLEASE tag it as daran/randaza/ranzai/etc. Please stop using souheki and muddying the waters to find content of these two.

if you want to find content for them, these are their tags in jp:

乱太 / らんだざ / randaza or ranzai (top ranpo content ONLY)

太乱 / だざらん / dazaran or daran (top dazai content ONLY)

太乱太 (content that can be translated either way / switch)

Please keep in mind that ships are tagged accordingly for who tops/bottoms or is the one who may have the more confident or dominant personality in jp fandom to filter content and those who dislike one dynamic will not be exposed to it. This is not an argument over top/bottom discourse. Jp fans do not have that problem. When you write/read a fic with top A, their actions/thoughts/etc will differ greatly from reading bottom A content 9/10 times. Some people have a preferred character interpretation like everyone else and are much more consistent with filtering.

While I am certainly happy daran/ranzai are finally canonically confirmed to be the agency's 'unbeatable duo/two precious treasures' (souheki), it is misleading and quite frankly incorrect to claim this is their ship name and to please keep tagging them as daran/ranzai so older content doesn't get brushed under the rug and completely ignored/missed altogether in this attempt to give them a 'special name'. They dont need to combat skk. They are unique and special as they are!

Please give attention to the content made by fans of Dazai/Ranpo fans that have existed for a long time now! We promise there is actually a TON of content, it is not lacking whatsoever. You’re just looking under the wrong name!

As a really big fan of Dazai and Ranpo for a very long time, who is friends with a majority of the Dazai/Ranpo fanartists in Japan and has spent a concerningly scary amount of money for content of them over the years, I hope you will consider this advice. I really want fans of Dazai/Ranpo to come together, enjoy content old and new, and make more in the future together.  (〃＞＿＜;〃) 

Please share this around if you could!

[incalculablepower]

some fics i've liked lately

it's been a weird year. when i made this list of recs back in january i fully intended it to become a monthly thing, but life happened and then i guess it just kept happening. in early 2023 things were ramping up in my new career, i was practicing and playing a lot with my band to prepare for our first show, i was settling into dealing with depression and anxiety with medication, i was getting over a miserable breakup. then i fell in love. i lost my job (the best and most favourite job i've ever had) abruptly this past may. this is my longest period of unemployment since i was a teenager and while you think it would be the best time to lose yourself in fandom, i felt the opposite. fandom was such a lifeline to me when i had a miserable job and was in a bad relationship and needed an escape but i was very present in my own life this summer. i took my partner to visit my family and spent a lot of time with friends and played shows (and recorded some music... shameless self promo once again) and in between i watched so much star trek on my couch. this is such a long preamble to explain why i haven't been fandoming as much lately and why idk if i'll write anything again anytime soon (let's say, once i have a job i want to procrastinate at) but -- i HAVE been reading fic! not as much as before, but i have been, and there's enough for a fic rest list so that's what i'm giving you today. when times are dire [podfic] - @aibidil

drarry. i have such a soft spot for middle aged draco and harry falling in love, the relationships they have with their friends and their grown children. @aibidil reads her own podfics and it's an utter delight. i usually only listen to podfics or audiobooks when i'm doing work around the house but i can going on walks with my headphones just so i could listen to more of this one.

purple haze by @ashesandhackles

romione. i was so so honoured to see this pop up in my ao3 gifts during @thethreebroomsticksfic pride fest this year. it turns the well tread romione ground of shell cottage and the yule ball over a bit, using them as settings to explore a confusing mix of jealousy and sexuality for ron and hermione. ashes knows i love mess with these and it captures that teenage chaos wonderfully, then lets them laugh at it as secure and settled adults.

crookshanks by @ala-baguette

gen. warning that this is a tearjerker, especially if you've ever loved and lost a pet. i think the pure and simple expressions of love and gratitude from crook's pov here would be a comfort to any pet owner.

at some point this year, i got REALLY into the idea of a one-sided dramione. it's hard to look for, especially since it's such a popular ship but i managed to find a few that scratched the itch until i find the time and/or motivation to write one of my own new years eve by 2daughtersofathena, the guardian angel by mylifebelongstothebbc, and a boy of hans by elixirsoflife. the last one being my personal favourite, a grim take on the hanahaki disease trope.

every mother is a grave by witchofimber

this was recced by @whinlatter in @thethreebroomsticksfic discord (btw i feel like no one on my followers lists needs anyone to remind them to read beasts -- but please read beasts) and when i saw "gillian flynn treatment" in the tags i slammed the mark for later button. this is probably the most balanced and realistic portrayals of molly weasley and her role as a mother that i've ever read in hp fic. it's not weasley family fluff but it doesn't devolve into something so flat as bashing either. molly is regular mother with flaws and strengths like anyone else and how they amplify and shift with love and grief and pain and stress and duty and pressure. every single relationship she has with her children is uniquely expressed and the way it ties the past to the direct aftermath of the war is so well done and a great way to organize this giant, messy family. particular care here went into fred and george, giving them their own identities in a way that can be difficult, given the source material. a favourite line:

“Probably have tried to make us name the twins after them.” He stopped laughing, sucked in a breath. “Do you want to?”  For a second she considered it. It would be wonderful, getting to use those names again like living things. But -  “No,” she said. “I - if they were alive, I’d have said no, so I’m saying it now. Let the boys be their own people.”  The truth was that she didn’t want to lose her brothers. To have their faces erased in her memory, painted over with her sons. To have to say no, not THAT Fab, I mean UNCLE Fab - he died before you were born. Anyway, she liked the names Fred and George. It was easier like this. 

the scrunchie by @saintsenara

another fic i've meant to read for ages and finally got around to just yesterday. the background drama of these side characters as a cheap scrunchie from boots floats around them is so perfectly teenage. reminds me of the other series i loved as a teenager around the time HP was coming out: georgia nicolson and gossip girl. i could also compare it to derry girls a little, how despite the environment surrounding them these girls are still being girls, arguing about stupid things and getting crushes on boys and having the absolute most ridiculous blowout fights with your sister (parvati and padma's portrayal here is probably my favourite i've ever read!)

i also can't leave without reccing @saintsenara's wip, one year in every ten. i can't get enough of a good case fic. tomarry/harrymort (both versions of this ship, oddly, apply to this fic) is not something i've ever sought out but i really think the way it's handled here could win over any non-believer. it's sharp and funny in a way that makes it turns into poignancy hit even harder. i screenshotted two full phone screen pages of chapter 27 so i could go back and read them over and over. it might be one of the best things i've ever read from ron's POV (emphasis mine):

It had been a long ten years, with a chair at their table always left empty and a hole in their hearts always unfilled. Grief was exhausting and boring and dully painful, like a slightly sprained ankle which you can still walk on, but which always bothers you a little bit.  But there had been love among the grief. There had been love before the grief - indeed love had caused the grief - and there had been love after. His love for his parents and his siblings had changed, the way wine left in a barrel changes and becomes richer and deeper. There was more sorrow in the love, as he threw a quaffle around with George and saw the tired lines at the corner of his eyes. There was more recrimination, more struggle with the mistakes they had all made in the past, as he finally sat down and had a real chat with mum and dad about how a lifetime of corned-beef sandwiches and maroon jumpers had made him feel. But there was more joy there too. And with joy came forgiveness and understanding and hope and fun.

image used is wildflowers (1915) by tom thomson

[zeciex]

A Vow of Blood - 31

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 31: Stranger's Company

AO3 - Masterlist

TW: Assult, attemted sexual assult, attempred kidnapping, violence

The voyage back to King’s Landing proved an arduous ordeal, a test of endurance against the whims of the tumultuous sea. The once calm waters had transformed into a raging storm, with towering waves resembling formidable hills that sent their ship careening in every possible direction. The benevolent winds that had once aided their departure  from King’s Landing to Dragonstone now displayed a capricious nature, refusing to lend their favor on this return journey. 

Each day on the ship unfolded as a parade of misery, a relentless sequence of soaking wetness and bone-chilling cold. Rain pour upon them, its intensity akin to a relentless torrent threatening to drown them while still above water. The ship, their sanctuary, was at the mercy of the elements, groaning and creaking with every pitch and sway. 

If truth be told, Daenera herself was not untouched by the waves of nausea that washed over the passengers. 

Nature seemed to conspire against them, as if the gods themselves intended to divert their course back to Dragonstone. And so, with palpable relief, they finally reached the welcoming arms of the harbor. 

Daenera was the first to set foot on solid ground, her every fiber yearning for the solace of her soft bed and the luxury of deep, uninterrupted slumber. 

The sky stretched above them like a canvas painted in rich hues of red and orange, the sun’s descent casting a warm, fiery glow across the horizon. 

While Joyce and Jelissa dutifully attended to the task of overseeing her belongings, Daenera and Fenrick mounted their horses. Their steeds, sturdy and resolute, were their vessels through the bustling city, navigating its labyrinthine streets with practiced ease. Trailing behind them were two additional guards, Anthor Dunn and Byren Garnes.

As they embarked on this journey through the city, Daenera’s weariness was palpable. Her voice held the traces of exhaustion as she spoke, her words punctuated by a slight roll of her neck, a bid to alleviate the tension that had accumulated. “I cannot wait until I can finally sleep again.”

The relentless cycle of sleepless nights and restless days had made its mark in the coloring beneath her eyes, deep and dark. She felt the weariness in her bones, her body exhausted and weak, sapped by the persistent demands of the recent days and nights. 

Fenrick offered a good-natured retort, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he countered, “It wasn’t that bad, you know. It could have been much worse.”

Daenera regarded him with an arched brow, a faint trace of skepticism curving her lips. “We could have drowned without ever falling into the water… Not all of us have your background as a seasoned soldier, accustomed to sleeping in the dirt and grime.”

He chuckled. “It has been quite some years since I’ve slept in the dirt and grime as you say. I’m old enough to appreciate a good mattress.”

Her eyes rolled playfully. “Ah, yes. The luxurious life of going from muddy battlefields to the comfort of your mattress. Quite the transition.”

As they rode through the streets of King’s Landing, the scene around them was remarkably different from the usual bustling chaos. The streets were unusually devoid of the usual thronging masses of the day. Most of the city’s inhabitants had retreated to the shelter of their homes, seeking refuge in the familiar embrace of their own abodes. The few individuals who ventured out in the waning light purposefully kept their distance from Daenera and her accompanying guards, their attention seemingly preoccupied elsewhere. 

The aroma that wafted through the air was a peculiar blend of waste and food, an assault on the senses that was far from pleasant. Daenera’s delicate nose wrinkled involuntarily at the mingling of scents, a silent testament to her discomfort. Amidst the sensory barrage, she found herself missing the crisp sea air of Dragonstone, even if it meant suffering the cold weather. Here in King’s landing, despite the descending sun, the atmosphere was decidedly warmer, a contrast to the biting winds she was accustomed to on the island.

“When will Baratheon arrive?” Fenrick inquired casually, his attention divided between the conversation and the streets ahead as he scanned for any potential threats. 

“In two weeks time–” Daenera had barely managed to utter her response before the world turned into a chaos of shouts. Abruptly, hands seized her from the saddle with a brutal force, eliciting a startled yelp from her as her grip on the reins slipped, the horse’s movements shifting restlessly under her. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she was wrenched from the saddle, her elegant attire tangling around her limbs, making her descent rough and clumsy. 

The cobblestone met her with a hard, unforgiving impact, her breath knocked out of her as she tumbled into a heap of skirts and sprawled limbs. Panic surged through her veins as she felt herself being dragged across the cobblestone street, sharp edges and rough texture grinding against her skin. Pain erupted in her palms as they scraped against the stone, her fingers turned to claws seeking purchase on the unforgiving surface.

“Princess!” Fenrick’s alarmed shout cut through the chaos, the urgency in his voice palpable as he swung his sword in a menacing arc, attempting to fend off the assailants who had so suddenly come upon them. The clash of steel against steel rang out, punctuated by the chaotic cacophony of shouts and grunts.

Out of the corner of her yee, Daenera witnessed one of her guards crumple to the ground, a deep gash in his abdomen spurting blood in crimson rivulets. The sight sent a chilling wave of terror crashing over her. 

Daenera saw Fenrick as he was yanked from his mount. He hit the ground with practiced ease, swiftly regaining his footing. In a quick, fluid motion, his sword was unsheathed and plunged into the abdomen of one of the assailants. The man’s pained cry mingled with the clatter of hooves as the horses, spooked by the commotion, bloated away, leaving Fenrick and Daenera stranded in the midst of danger. 

Fenrick’s eyes snapped to Daenera as he watched the harrowing scene unfold before him–Daenera was fiercely resisting, grabbling against the clutches of the attackers who were trying to drag her into the shadows of an adjacent alleyway. It seemed to fuel him as he surged forward, hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles whitening as he brought down the pommel with a brutal force onto the mans face, the sickening sound of breaking bone and the splatter of blood and teeth accompanying the assailant’s collapse onto the cobblestone. 

One of the other guards was valiantly fending off their attackers, a dance of steel clashing with steel that echoed through the tumultuous air. Yet, in the midst of the fray, the odds began to tip against them. Bryden Garnes l ay dead on the ground, and Anthor Dunn stumbled as the helmet was ripped from his head, and a vicious club was brought down with deadly precision, caving in his skull with a sickening crunch. 

Amidst the chaos, a hand clamped ruthlessly over Daenera’s mouth, stifling her cries for help. The noise of the struggle and her own heartbeat pounding in her ears made it near impossible to comprehend the words being uttered by the assailant. “Stop fighting and I will make it easy on you.”

The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as her teeth sank into the assailant’s hand. The man’s pained cry reverberated in the air as he forcefully withdrew his hand, leaving behind a chunk of flesh between her teeth that she hastily spat out. Blood dripped down her chin.

With a violent clash of steel and bodies, she felt the man’s grip on her arm loosen, and she was yanked away. Dazed and disoriented, her vision cleared just enough to recognize Fenrick’s form.

His free hand found her arm, and she was quickly pulled behind him, shielded from the attackers who circled them like wolves closing in on their prey. 

If he had taken a moment to glance at her, he would have seen her ashen complexion, her trembling form, and wide-eyed stare that spoke volumes of her fear. Blood ran from her mouth down her neck like some gruesome necklace.

“Take this,” Fenrick’s voice was firm. 

From his sheath, he drew a dagger, its gleaming edge catching the dim light. He held it out to her, and her fingers closed around the hilt, the shaft trembling within her grasp. The very air seemed to buzz with tension as her knuckles turned white from the pressure with which she held the dagger. 

“Listen to me closely, Daenera,” he spoke with a sense of urgency. “You have to run.”

Her gaze met his, wide-eyed and scared. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and for a moment, it was as if the world had narrowed to the space between them. 

“I can’t,” she protested, her voice quivering. The thought of abandoning him to face their attackers alone made her stomach turn. 

Fenrick’s gaze bore into hers, unwavering in its intensity. “You can. They’re too many, but I will keep them off as long as I can. It will give you a head start. Find somewhere to hide, and I will come find you.”

The weight of his words settled on her shoulders, a heavy burden that tugged at her heart. She wanted to remain by his side, to fight alongside him, but the practicality of the situation was impossible to ignore. She couldn’t fight off a horde of attackers. She couldn’t protect him as he had been protecting her. 

“I can’t just leave you,” her voice trembled, her grip on the dagger tightening involuntarily. It made the tip of it shake. 

A fierce determination flashed in Fenrick’s eyes, a resolve that left no room for argument. “You can, and you will. Go.”

His words were an unyielding command, a directive that demanded her obedience.

Daenera’s footsteps pounded against the wet cobblestones, a frantic rhythm that matched the pulse of fear in her chest. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation searing her lungs as she pushed herself forward, her determination fueled  by the desperation of survival. It was a race against time, against the looming threat that  pursued her relentlessly. 

In the distance, the imposing towers of the Red Keep pierced the sky, a distant promise of safety that kept her feet moving. Every step was a battle against the slippery surface beneath her, her progress reminiscent of a toddler’s tentative first steps. Yet, the urgency was undeniable, and she pressed on, her gaze locked on the distant beacon of hope. 

Her heart thundered in her ears, the sound drowning out the howling of the assailants as they chased after her. The world had narrowed down to this desperate flight, the raw energy of adrenaline propelling her forward. She veered into a narrow alley, shadows swallowing her as she tried to escape her pursuers. 

The houses seemed to blur together, a monotonous labyrinth of indistinct shapes, that threatened to ensnare her. Passersby paid her no heed, too preoccupied with their own concerns to spare more than a fleeting glance at the girl with the torn dress and the bloodstained chin. 

An alley stretched out before her, and she darted into its shadows, her back pressed against the cold wall. Fear pulsed within her like a living thing, constricting her chest as her lungs burned. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps as she peered around the corner, her wide eyes scanning for any sign of the men who pursued her. 

The men were close, their footsteps growing louder, each footfall a menacing beat that drew closer and closer. Panic clawed at her insides, threatening to overwhelm her as she slid behind a large wooden barrel, its contents emitting a foul stench. 

She pressed her trembling body against the wood, her hands clamped over her mouth in a futile attempt to silence her own heavy breathing. 

The taste of salt mingled with the coppery tang of blood on her lips. Was it her own blood, or the taste of the man's blood? She could no longer differentiate it.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, and the urgency in their voices sent a shiver down her spine. They were close, dangerously close. Above the pounding of her heart, she heard their command to search the street to find her. 

“Find her! Search everywhere. We cannot let her escape!”

In the shadows, Daenera huddled, a fragile figure lost in the darkness. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she willed herself to become as inconspicuous as possible, to become a mere shadow. 

Did they know who she was? Or was it the extravagance of her dress and the glint of her jewels that had marked her as their target? These questions churned in Daenera’s mind as she crouched behind the barrel. 

With trembling fingers pressed against her lips, she dared to peek around the barrel’s edge, casting a cautious glance towards the dimly lit street. A figure in pursuit ran past her hiding spot, disappearing from view as quickly as they had appeared. The narrow alleyway seemed momentarily empty, but her instincts kept her on edge. 

A sudden grip on her shoulder yanked her backward, pulling her deeper into the shadows cast by the two tall houses. Panic surged through her veins as her footing faltered, her heel catching on a cobblestone. She tumbled to the ground with an undignified thud, a sharp sting radiating from her elbow where it had met the stone. 

The world around her blurred as she fought to regain her bearings, her senses muddled by adrenaline and fear. The presence of the man who dragged her down into the darkness loomed over her. 

“There you are, little girl,” he sneered, his tall figure casting a menacing shadow. The chilling sound of his laughter echoed in the confined space as she raised her trembling hand, the dagger held out before her as a desperate defense. 

Her gesture was met with cruel amusement. His foot lashed out, a brutal kick aimed at her hand. Pain radiated through her palm as her grip was shattered, the blade skidding across the stones and out of reach. 

Desperation filled her, and she turned to crawl towards the weapon, her fingertips straining towards its glint. 

But fate was not in her favor. A hand snaked around her ankle, its grip firm and unyielding. Fear gripped her as she was hauled back, just out of reach of the dagger. She twisted and fought, her frantic efforts a futile struggle against her captor’s strength. 

Once again, her body was flipped over, her vulnerability exposed to the harsh reality of the situation. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she gazed up at the man who loomed above her.

“I was told to keep you alive,” he spat at her, his hot breath curling over her skin. Her hands flailed, her nails clawing at him, a desperate bid for freedom. His grip only tightened, fingers digging into her skin. “But not in what condition. Perhaps if you had not gotten Howar killed, I would have been gentle.”

A resounding slap sent shockwaves through Daenera’s skull, her vision blurring with the force of the impact. Tears welled in her eyes and dizziness threatened to overwhelm her as she fought against his weight. “S-stop! I can pay you! I can pay you.”

Her breath hitched as the assailant’s grip grew more forceful, tearing at her skirts with violent urgency. His rough hand grazed her thigh, an invasive touch that clawed at her, a grime reminder of Aegon. 

A primal scream, raw and unbridled, erupted from her throat as her limbs thrashed wildly, an instinctual response akin to a cornered animal. 

Her chaotic struggle only seemed to fuel his malevolent intent. A sickening thud resonated as another blow landed, her body jolting with the impact. 

“You cannot negotiate, little girl,” his words oozed with a perverse amusement that turned her stomach, the sench of his breath mingling with the acrid taste of her fear. 

Against the wet cobblestone, her feet scrabbled for purchase, a desperation lending power to her limbs. Grinding her teeth in defiance of the pain and humiliation, a surge of determination sparked within her like a tiny ember against the dark. 

The heavens above had been swallowed by the night, casting the alley into an even deeper shroud of obscurity. Her fingers crept towards the discarded dagger. Every heartbeat thudded in her ears as the assailant attempted to free himself of his trousers. 

Just a little more. Her trembling fingers grazed the hilt of the dagger, its rough leather offering a reassuring touch. Summoning the last vestiges of her strength and will, Daenera’s fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger. 

The blade met resistance as it sank into the man’s neck, the unexpected struggle almost causing her to lose grip. Positioned above the collarbone, the wound was shallow but agonizing, and his reaction was immediate. His eyes bulged in a mixture of surprise and pain, his movements halting as he leaned back to reach up towards his neck. 

With grim determination, Daenera wretched the dagger free, its blade coated in the slick veneer of blood. A renewed fury coursed through her veins, lending her strength as she drove the weapon back into his flesh. This time, the barrier of skin and sinew yielded more readily, the blade sinking in with a grotesque ease that send a shiver down her spine. A gush of blood erupted from the wound, spattering her like an unholy rain, the warmth of it mingling with the cold sweat that had already slicked her skin. 

Desperation and fear gave way to rage as she kicked at his form. His grip loosened further, the struggle for dominance reaching a violent peak. She managed to create enough space, her breath ragged as she scrambled to her knees. The dagger still clutched in her trembling hand, gleamed maliciously in the dim light, dripping with blood.

With a violent ferociousness, she drove the dagger into his body one final time, channeling all her remaining strength into the action. The blade met little resistance this time, slicing through the soft tissues with a grotesque precision that was both satisfying and harrowing. His body convulsed, a gutteral gurgle escaping his throat as his life's blood ebbed away. 

Her eyes were wide, an unsettling mixture of rage and violence that twisted her expression into a snarl. In this moment, she resembled a beast more than a woman. Wild and bloodthirsty, with fire for her breath and sharp teeth in her mouth. 

In the fading light of life, his gaze found hers–no longer cold and unfeeling, but now desperate, accusatory. He looked upon her as if she had transformed into the harbinger of his demise, a merciless force that had come to collect his debts with ruthless precision. She saw herself in his eyes, her face bathed in the grim hue of his lifesblood, cruel and monstrous. Her sneer was almost a smile. 

Did dragons ever feel bad for the sheep they slaughter?

Blood seeped from the wounds, pooling beneath him, a silent testament to the brutality of the moment. The man’s gaze, once filled with malevolence, now held only a vacant emptiness as death claimed him. 

As her mind grappled with the reality of what she had just done, her hands remained suspended in the air, trembling and sticky with the blood of her enemy. The rhythm of her heart pounded in her head, each thud a reminder of the violence that had just unfolded. Graduatelly, amid the unsettling stillness that followed violence, she became aware of the sounds around her. 

Daenera tried to wipe her face but it only served to smear the blood. 

“Over here!”

Her head snapped towards the source, finding a man pointing down the alleyway directly at her and the lifeless body sprawled on the ground. Dread tightened its grip on her heart, a heavy weight pulling her deeper into the abyss of this nightmare. 

With trembling legs, she pushed herself up from the ground, her fingers clutching the torn fabric of her skirts. Desperation lent her strength as she began to move, her legs unsteady yet resolute. Her gaze darted around, evaluating her options in the fleeting moment she had to make a decision. The man who had spotted her was still there, his eyes locked on her like a predator tracking its prey. 

She turned and fled in the opposite direction, her feet pounded against the slick stones as she raced towards the mouth of the alleyway. The world remained a blur around her as she ran, pushing her body beyond its limits. She stumbled for a brief moment, then regained her footing, pushing forward with every ounce of strength she could muster. 

Her mind raced, trying to calculate the safest path to her destination–the Red Keep. Every step she took felt as if it brought her further from the castle, further from safety. 

With each turn she took, the streets became more unfamiliar, the world around her a haze of dimly lit buildings and obscure corners. The adrenaline that had initially fueled her now waned, replaced by a creeping exhaustion that gnawed at her limbs. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her vision blurred as she struggled forward. 

As she turned down another narrow alleyway, a fleeting hope that she had managed to lose her pursuers flickered in her chest. She glanced over her shoulders, her heart pounding louder than the echoing footsteps behind her. Just as she began to think she might have a moment's respite, her body collided with an unyielding obstacle. 

The impact sent her sprawling to the ground, her palms yet again scraping painfully against the rough cobblestone. For a moment, her vision swam with disorientation, and her ears rang with the jarring sound of her teeth clattering together. 

As her senses gradually returned, a familiar voice growled with unmistakable menace–a voice that sent shivers of dread down her spine. 

“Watch it!”

As she scrambled up from the ground, her eyes met the tired, hollow gaze of Aegon. Dark circles marred the skin beneath his eyes, similar to the ones under hers. The hood of his cloak was drawn up, casting a shadow over his greasy and brittle– distinct , hair. 

Her heart pounded with a mix of emotions–relief at encountering someone familiar, but also a chilling realization that danger still nibbed at her heels. 

With claw-like fingers, she reached out, gripping his arm as he turned to walk away, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Panic laced her voice as she called out, desperate for him to recognize her. 

“Aegon!” Her voice quavered, as she looked over her shoulders then back at him again.

He halted, turning back to her with a scowl that slowly transformed into surprise, then fell somewhere between incredulity and spite. “Well, well, what an amusing coincidence running into you here, Princess .”

Realization flashed across his face as he took in her disheveled appearance and the terror etched into her expression. In response to her urgency, he cast a sidelong glance down the alley, his posture shifting as if he could already feel the danger lurking in the shadows. 

“We need to hide,” Daenera pleaded, her gaze darting nervously down the dimly lit street, her intuition warning her that her pursuers were dangerously close. 

Aegon’s expression twisted. He brushed her hand off his arm as if ridding himself of something unpleasant. “Whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into, it’s none of my concern.”

The weight of his indifference struck her like a blow. Despite their contentious history, she had somehow expected him to help her. Her breath hitched with incredulity of her own, as well as disbelief. 

“Aegon!” Her voice snapped furiously. “They’re going to kill me.”

His response was a derisive snort, as if her words were nothing more than an inconvenient nuisance. “Sounds like a personal predicament to me.”

At that moment, Daenera couldn’t comprehend his apathy. They had never been close, but she had never anticipated he would abandon her to her death like this. A surge of anger replaced her fear, and without thinking, she lunged for him, her fingers outstretched only to clutch his cloak. She was going to throttle him right here. 

“You selfish, insufferable–”

Aegon recoiled, his body leaning away from her grasp, his hands attempting to fend off her attack. “Get off me! Don’t drag me into your mess!”

The sound of approaching footsteps cut through their altercation, a stark reminder that their time was rapidly running out. Daenera’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, her heart sinking as chilling dread settled over her.

“She is here!” A man yelled out. “I found her!”

Daenera’s hand shot out, grasping a fistful of Aegon’s hood in a desperate attempt to yank it down. Meanwhile, Aegon’s hand, mid-motion in an attempt to push her away, froze against her chest. Daenera pulled at the hood, revealing his pale locks and then promptly shoved his hand away from her chest. 

Emerging from various alleyways and streets, the men closed in on them. The man leading the pack had a crooked nose and a missing front tooth that gave him a sinister appearance. He pulled out a dull dagger, pointing it at Daenera as he opened his mouth to speak. “We don’t want no fight. Just hand o’er the girl.”

In that charged moment, Aegon’s eyes met Daenera’s, a silent exchange that spoke of disbelief and uncertainty. Her eyes narrowed at him, a subtle shake of her head ordering him to refuse. 

With a chilling smile, Aegon’s lips curled and he made a decision that was as ruthless as it was unexpected. He shoved her forcefully, sending her stumbling a few steps backward. His voice dripped with malicious amusement as he addressed the approaching men, his eyes fixed on Daenera. “There you go, good men. She’s all yours.”

Daenera’s fists clenched at her sides and she spat at him. “You shameless bastard.”

Aegon’s chuckle was dark and taunting. “I believe it is you who’s the bastard, no?”

Daenera’s attention shifted abruptly towards the approaching men, her gaze locked onto their faces. An idea grew in her mind, twisted and petty. If she was to meet her end here, she was determined to drag Aegon down with her. 

With a sudden assertiveness that cut through the chaos, she spoke, her voice loud and clear. 

“This is Aegon Targaryen,” she declared, her tone laced with cold certainty. Her eyes, edged with a flicker of spite, met Aegon’s. “The first son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. He has seen your faces. He can identify you.”

Daenera’s lips curled into a sly smirk, daring Aegon to challenge this. She could almost taste his anger, his eyes narrowing at her with a potent mix of disbelief and fury. 

“You conniving little cunt,” he spat at her in a low voice. 

“If you’re harboring any notions of taking me hostage,” she continued, her voice holding steady despite the circumstances, “then you would do well to consider the other prize in your midst.”

She gestured provocatively towards Aegon, the prince who stood before them, with the undeniable evidence of his hair. “A prince and a princess. We are worth a lot of gold.”

An air of uncertainty hung heavy as the men exchanged hesitant glances, grappling with the idea. The weight of their decision made them pause. 

But as the tension held the air in its grip, Aegon seized the moment. He grasped her wrist, his grip fierce and carved in stone, as he pulled her along. In an instant they were off, racing through the street as the men yelled out behind them. 

“I can manage on my own,” Daenera retorted with a fierce growl, voice raw with irritation. The rhythmic swish of his cloak brushed against her as they surged forward. 

His retort was sharp and biting. “I am not releasing you just to have you sprint away and abandon me to face this alone!”

Aegon’s tone held an undercurrent of exasperation, his resolve unyielding even amidst the urgency of their escape. He continued. “Besides, I am the one who knows our destination.”

With a sharp pivot, Aegon’s movement tugged at Daenera’s shoulder joint, eliciting a twinge of discomfort. He guided her along a zigzag course through the streets before abruptly changing direction again, then leading her up a flight of stairs. The uneven steps made her stumble, almost sending her sprawling. Despite her struggle, Aegon’s determination didn’t waver, and he continued his forceful pull. 

The climb was arduous, and Daenera felt as though she was barely able to crawl her way upward. 

Finally, they reached a blue wooden door, where Aegon released her with an urgency that matched the pounding in her chest. 

His knocks on the door were forceful. He persisted until a small door at eye level slid open, revealing a pair of scrutinizing brown eyes on the other side. “No.”

The gruff voice that issued from within was met with Aegon’s insistent words. “Tell the White Worm I’m here!”

Daenera clung to Aegon’s arm, her breath catching as she cast a glance over her shoulders. Their pursuers, five men, ran up the street towards them. 

“They’re coming!” She choked out desperately, pulling at Aegon’s arm. 

Aegon’s eyes snapped to the approaching threat before returning to the person behind the door. “Tell her I am not alone. The princess is with me.”

The eyes on the other side of the door shifted. In a swift motion, the small door closed, and shortly after the whole door swung open, revealing one distinct figure within. 

A woman draped in white attire emerged from the doorway, flanked by a retinue of burly men. Their presence was undeniable, their weaponry far superior to that of the pursuing group. 

The woman strode past Aegon and Daenera, her footsteps measured and purposeful as she descended the steps, positioning herself halfway down, squarely and without fear facing the men. 

As she passed, Daenera caught a whiff of spices and mint in the air as the woman brushed past, an unusual combination that lingered for but a moment. 

The woman’s voice, when she spoke, held a commanding weight, laden with authority and accented with a curl that hinted at a heritage from Lys, perhaps? 

“I suggest you reconsider your path,” she spoke firmly. “There is nothing for you here.”

One of the pursuers spat out a demand, his words filled with aggression, only to be swiftly silenced by a companion who elbowed him and whispered something inaudible. A tense exchange occurred between the men, worry etched onto their grim faces. 

“Leave. This is your final warning,” the woman’s voice remained resolute, her gaze unyielding. 

For a fleeting moment, the men hesitated, a semblance of defiance warring with trepidation on their faces. However, the resolve in the woman’s shoulders and the imposing presence of her armed company seemed to outweigh their courage. With reluctant resignation, they turned on their heels and begrudgingly retreated. 

The air remained thick with tension. 

Daenera’s mind was ablaze with questions as the men withdrew, her eyes narrowing as she watched their backs disappear into the distance. 

With a demeanor that exuded grace and authority, the woman ascended the steps once more. She positioned herself next to Aegon, her gaze fixed on his breathless countenance and the smudge of blood Daenera had inadvertently left on his cheek. Her scrutiny was palpable, as though she was peeling away the layers of his being. 

“You were banned from my establishment, were you not?” Her words held a measured tone. 

Aegon emitted a derisive snort, dismissively shaking his head as he leaned against the wrought-iron bannister that crowned the top of the stairs. “I brought you her .”

The woman's expression remained measuring, unamused. “And you believe that offering her will be enough to mitigate your banishment?”

Aegon’s expression contorted.

“One night,” the woman pronounced firmly, her voice holding a promise wrapped in a thread of strict authority. She would not be negotiating. 

Aegon let out a displeased hum, then shrugged half-heartedly and pushed himself off the bannister as he made his way into the establishment, leaving Daenera behind with the enigmatic woman in white. 

“Princess,” the woman drawled, gesturing for her to enter as well. 

While the exterior of the building had hardly appeared impressive, the interior revealed itself as a striking contrast to Daenera’s expectations. 

Within the confines of the establishment, a lush courtyard stretched out, its centerpiece a delicate fountain that ran with a soothing melody.  As Daenera’s gaze roamed, she took in the intricate details adorning the rooms – an array of vibrant flowers and expensive fabrics, swaying gently in the warm currents of the air. Green vines grew from the ground and wound their way up the sturdy columns that encircled the courtyard. And rose petals littered the ground, providing a dash of color, permeating the air with a sweet scent. 

The interior thrived with a diverse assembly of individuals: elegantly attired men and provocatively dressed women filled the courtyard, each absorbed in their revelry. As the music echoed from a corner, a modest band played a seductive tune, weaving melodies that enticed the patrons to part with their coin. Amongst the grow, women moved sensually, their bodies writhing to the rhythm of the song. It was a scene of indulgence and decadence. 

The weight of realization pressed heavily on Daenera. This was no run-of-the-mill establishment; it was a brothel, a place of desire and indulgence. The revelation shouldn’t have taken her entirely by surprise, given Aegon’s nature, but the stark truth of their surroundings was unsettling, intensifying her already growing apprehensions

From the discreet chambers adjacent to the courtyard, muffled sounds of pleasure could be heard, their hum blending with the ambiance of revelry. Though, in a place like this, true privacy remained an illusion.

After Aegon had descended the stairs, Daenera’s eyes remained fixed on him, tracking his movements with a boiling of frustration and resentment within her chest. It didn’t take long for two women to approach him, their embraces warm and intimate, offering both wine and flattery. 

Daenera’s glare intensified, her silent judgment burning holes into his retreating form. 

Guided along the corridor, she was led away from the prying gazes of the brothel’s clientele. It struck her as a pragmatic choice; the brothel thrived on an air of sophistication and exclusivity, an image that might be marred by the presence of a woman covered in blood.

Yet, in the confines of this space, Daenera couldn’t help but wonder if some patrons would derive an illicit thrill from such a sight. 

Referred to as the White Worm, the enigmatic woman guided Daenera into a room that stood in stark contrast to the opulent extravagance of the rest of the establishment. Here, the subdued lighting and less ornate furnishings provided a sense of seclusion and intimacy, setting it apart from the vibrant indulgence found elsewhere.

The woman’s gestures were graceful and deliberate as she invited Daenera to take a seat, then picked up a decanter of spiced wine, pouring a glass and placing it upon the table before her guest. 

Daenera’s gaze lingered on the glass, her sudden thirst amplified by the scent of the wine’s rich aroma. She felt a myriad of emotions – confusion, frustration, and a sense of dread. Her hands remained folded in her lap as she weighed her options. 

“It is not poisoned,” the woman asserted, her accent weaving a foreign charm around her words. 

Daenera found herself admiring the woman’s beauty, in spite of the precariousness of the situation. There was something both compelling and unnerving about her presence. 

As the untouched glass of wine sat on the table, the woman’s response to Daenera’s apprehension was decisive. Without hesitation, she lifted the glass and brought it to her lips in a confident display. After taking a sip, she extended the glass toward Daenera, silently challenging her. 

Daenera accepted the glass then. The rim touched her lips, and she took a gulp, the spiced warmth of the wine mingling with her lingering dread. The taste of copper and fear that still clung to her senses seemed to dull under the soothing touch of the wine. 

“This is not how I expected to be introduced to you,” the woman remarked, a note of wry amusement threading her words. 

Daenera’s fingers lowered the glass from her lips, the woman’s statement catching her attention.

“Well, I must say, being saved in such a dramatic fashion certainly makes for an intriguing introduction,” Daenera replied, her voice both skeptic and coy. 

A subtle glint of amusement danced in the woman’s eyes, a fleeting expression that seemed to flit across her features like a secret. “Do you think I orchestrated this?”

Daenera’s lips curved into a half-smile, her hand absently swirling the wine within her glass. “I can’t entirely dismiss the notion. It’s a clever strategy, after all. Either I’d be delivered into your hands by my captors, or I’d be miraculously rescued, creating a sense of trust and gratitude within me.”

The woman nodded, acknowledging the astuteness of Daenera’s observations. “It is indeed a clever plan, but it is not without its fallacies. There’s too many variables that could go awry. They might have taken your life. They might have held you captive to bargain for more money. Or you might have managed to escape, a scenario that seems more plausible…”

Leaning slightly against the edge of the desk, the woman’s dark hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall of obsidian silk. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic, held Daenera’s gaze. 

“Had I deployed my men to retrieve you, your chances of fleeing would have been considerably slimmer,” The woman continued. “If I were to execute such a plan, I wouldn’t rely on common bandits.”

Daenera shifted uneasily in her seat, her body feeling stiff and chilled from the recent ordeal. Her muscles throbbed, while her thoughts whirred like a spinning wheel, attempting to decipher the mystery of the woman before her. 

It was clear that beneath the surface, there was much more to this woman than initially met the eye. 

“They were disorganized, unskilled, and ill-equipped for the task of abducting a princess,” the woman remarked, her voice carrying a tone of casual observation. 

“If those men were not working for you, then who were they?” Daenera’s brows furrowed. 

A faint glimmer danced within the woman’s eyes, hidden depths of knowledge and intrigue. “I cannot say for certain. It’s possible they saw an opportunity to abduct a wealthy woman for ransome and got more than they bargained for.”

Daenera’s eyes remained locked onto the woman’s, her own searching for a flicker of truth or deception. 

“They knew who I was,” she declared firmly. Their actions had been deliberate and calculated. ‘I was told to keep you alive,’ one of the men had said. “Even after I proved too challenging and managed to escape, they continued to pursue me. It wasn’t just a random act; they were after me specifically .”

Daenera instinctively recoiled as the woman’s fingers brushed against her cheek, an involuntary response fueled by her wariness of being touched by someone unfamiliar. 

“You killed one of them,” the woman stated. 

“Yes.” Her eyes drifted downward to her hands. They were trembling, coated in dried blood that cracked and clung to her skin, a reminder of the violence she had been forced into. 

She licked her lips before continuing, eyes lifting to meet the woman. “Yes. I killed a man.” 

Her face held no flicker of disgust, nor did it betray any hint of pity. It remained an unmoving canvas, locked in a quiet and unassuming observation. 

“You know who I am,” Daenera said. 

The woman’s lips curved into a subtle smile, her enigmatic aura seemingly a result of intention. “I do.” 

Daenera’s unease was evident as she turned the glass in her hand, a nervous gesture that betrayed anxiousness. “That leaves me at a disadvantage. I do not know who you are.” 

Fleetingly, the smile on her lips stretched. “They call me The White Worm… but my name is Mysaria.”

“Lady Mysaria, your intervention saved me, and for that I am truly grateful,” Daenera acknowledged, finding her voice still raw and trembling. She swallowed thickly. “Rest assured, your assistance will not go unnoticed. You shall be rewarded generously for your actions.”

“I am neither a Lady, nor do I seek monetary rewards.”

“What do you seek then?”

Mysaria’s smile held a feline quality. “A favor.”

“A favor,” Daenera repeated, a sense of dread settling with her stomach. “What kind of favor?”

Mysaria rose from her seat and glided behind the desk, the pristine white silk of her dress swaying with her movement. It struck Daenera that the dress remained immaculate amidst its surroundings, unblemished and untouched. It was a testament to its wearer’s power – the power to remain untouched by the filth that surrounded her. 

“Are you familiar with the illness spreading near Flea Bottom?” Mysaria inquired. 

Daenera shook her head. 

“The small council’s solution has been to quarantine the afflicted area, walling off both the infected and the healthy.”

“Isolating the area to prevent the disease from spreading further seems a logical step,” Daenera responded. Flea Bottom’s congested population made it an ideal breeding ground for disease. Without containment, the entire city would be at risk. 

“However,” Mysaria continued, her tone steady, “the disease remains unchecked. There are no Maesters to care for the sick, and those who are well and healthy are trapped without provisions. The result is death – not solely from illness, but also from hunger. Men, women, and children are dying.”

“What would you have me do?” Daenera asked apprehensively, sensing that this request was a test of more than her abilities – a test of character. 

“You occupy a unique position within the King’s affections, being his favored grandchild. Your reputation for kindness and generosity precedes you,” Mysaria drawled, her words measured. Each of her words only added to the weight of apprehension that had settled on Daenera’s chest. 

“I implore you to approach the King directly and beseech him to extend aid to the starving, and to ask the Citadel for Maesters to treat the afflicted.”

Mysaria’s request was clear: she wanted Daenera to bypass the council and appeal directly to the King. Daenera studied Mysaria closely. “What drives your concern for those in Flea Bottom?”

“I have walked in their shoes. I advocate for those who lack a voice,” Mysaria replied, a steely resolve in her gaze. 

While there might have been some truth to her words, Daenera couldn’t help but feel as though there were more to it. Whether it was hatred for those who stepped upon those who could not defend themselves, or compassion for the weak, she did not know. Nevertheless, it was clear that Mysaria was as clever as she was beautiful – a dangerous combination. 

Mysaria pressed on, her tone unwavering. “I understand that the nobility and the Crown might find it difficult to attend to the needs of the common folk.”

“And you have taken it upon yourself to be their champion?” Daenera questioned. 

Mysaria arched an eyebrow challengingly. “Your charitable acts have earned you a glowing reputation among the artisans and commoners alike, both within and beyond the city. Your standing is admirable.”

Daenera’s eyes narrowed as she heard the accusation between the words. It stood to reason that Daenera herself would benefit from speaking with the King. But it didn’t change the fact that this was a test. 

It became evident that Mysaria, The White Worm, was weaving her own web of intrigue and espionage. King’s Landing was not only swarming with informants from House Hightower and the Lord Confessor’s spies, but also those of the mysterious White Worm. How much did she truly know? And how much was she willing to reveal?

“I will speak to the King,” Daenera conceded. “But I cannot guarantee the outcome. The council handles such matters.”

Mysaria smiled.”I have faith that you will find a way.”

Daenera drained the last remnants of the wine, placing the empty glass down on the table before rising. She futilely attempted to smooth her ruined skirts, realizing the effort was in vain – no amount of fussing could salvage it. “And Aegon?”

“What about him?” Mysaria responded, raising her hand to beckon a dark-skinned man over. 

“How do you know him?” Daenera questioned. 

Mysaria’s smile gained an edge. “He used to be a patron of this establishment, but his… preferences outgrew what I offer. He’s no longer welcome here.”

Daenera briefly wondered what kind of desires Aegon harbored that even a brothel couldn’t or wouldn’t cater to. It must have been something scandalously vile. But the thought felt hazy and distant; her head was heavy and foggy, and she felt as if trapped within her body and floating outside of it all at once. 

Mysaria’s morality remained a puzzle, just as much as everything else. 

“What are your plans for him?”

“He’ll remain here until morning, then he’s no longer my concern.”

Daenera nodded, then followed the dark-skinned man back through the same path they had taken earlier. With each step, her surroundings seemed to blur. The world felt unfocused, her skin alternated between feeling hot and ice-cold, and her limbs continued to tremble uncontrollably. 

By the gods, she was exhausted. 

Back in the city’s humid air, she was assisted onto a horse, her arms instinctively wrapping around the middle of the dark-skinned man for support. Mysaria approached her once more, placing a steadying hand on her knee. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Princess Daenera,” Mysaria offered. 

Daenera’s response was mere silence as the horse began to walk.

[scienceoftheidiot]

I've grown way too unhinged with these "asks", but I've been meaning to send you this one for a while, so please indulge me!

From what I've noticed, a lot of the Royai fan artists I follow tend to prefer drawing Riza, when they're not portraying her with Roy. But I've noticed that a number of your pieces focused on Roy only, which I find very interesting! Would you say that his character inspires you more than Riza, artistically/creatively speaking? If so, in what ways?

Please tell us more! And thank you, as always <3

Lol not unhinged at all I love to receive asks, I just always forget to reply 🥲🥲 sorry 🥲 so, first, thank you very much for asking ! 🥰❤️

And lol yeah, sometimes I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb among the Royai people. But eh, healthy ecosystems need biodiversity 🤣

I hope my answer isn't too long.

I do have a preference for Roy in drawing, for a number of reasons.

I precise in drawing, because I do love writing Riza, not more than I do writing Roy, but they're relatively even for me - even if, yes, I tend to favour Roy because he's easier for me, there, too.

I like to draw him, because I like his face, expressions and postures, and I like to explore them. He's a fun little guy to draw, when I think Riza is cool AF (and I have a lot to say about her character, too!) but she's not as fun to draw for me (once again I love her and she's in fact the female character I have drawn the most I think, because I have a hard time drawing women, but still, if I'm looking for a quick doodle, I'll go towards Roy).

But yes, they're more or less indissociable for me, and for proof my first fan art for FMA was indeed Royai (here!).

Anyway. While Royai is my favourite ship and I love Riza to bits, my favourite character in FMA is Roy. Roy first. (And my husband has understood that well, he's calling me when we do a rewatch and Roy appears on screen and I'm not watching. Like HURRY ROY IS THERE).

Now, if anyone who knows me from earlier than my FMA obsession reads this, and I describe the utter mess that is Roy, they'll understand that it couldn't have gone any other way. Here's a man in a position of power, who hides everything behind a façade, who's a nerd and highly intelligent (I admit I'm often irked by some posts in the royai fandom. This guy is smart. He's goofy, he's a dork, but he's smart. Book smart, he's a fine tactician, and he can command. Erasing that is erasing part of his identity, and I'm sure part of why Riza loves him, too), has a weird sense of humour even though he can also be intense af, is crushed by unbelievable guilt from his past actions (I admit Roy and Roza both beat all of my previous fixations in that, good job being war criminals, guys 🙃) and intends to repair what he's done as much as he can, one way or another, whose sole goal is to make things better for others/his place/his country, whatever he has to give up for it to work, who inspires others doing that, and who gets badly injured/disabled during the story and keeps going and fighting teeth and nails through it and beyond?

WELL. There is no question I will fall for this dude instantly. This is like. Checking all the boxes for me to be instantly in love with this guy. Like. I think he's actually the only one who checks ALL of my boxes.

I do think however that Roy isn't complete without Riza, and that it's the same on her side (like. I've only tagged my current fic with "codependency" but that's how I write them whatever I write). I'm just fixating on him first, but I still find Riza an awesome character, there's no debate there 😊

Here you go! I've written a novel again lol but I hope I've replied to all your questions. I can talk more about how I see Roy and Riza, I always have more to tell, but really that would just make this even more unpalatable 😅 thank you again for asking 😊

[ceilingfan5]

20 Questions for fic writers

Tagged by @holdmecloser-gandydancer

tagging you, the person reading this and wishing someone tagged you, yes you, i mean it

1. How many works do you have on A03?

total? 73. TAZ? 37. oh man. palindrome

2. What's your total A03 word count? 703,033 baby ive been here for Ten Years

3. What fandoms do you write for?

recently taz. before that, aftg, haikyuu!! etc. but man it has been taz for a While

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

OF TAZ WORKS (all my top 5 are old old) 1. Sticker Stars (of course) 2. Run Away With Me 3. Rub This On Your Body 4.Little Shop of Horny and 5. Apply Directly to the Forehead (one of my first taz fics!!) all of those make sense as contenders but i am surprised revenge plus one is #8

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i................have to be honest..........................................i'm so...sorry............

[id: a screenshot of "Inbox (3402)" indicating no, no I do not]

(please understand this is from years and years and years and years)

i pretty much only reply if i am directly asked a question i have an answer to or it makes me cry in a good way....not because i'm an asshole or because i don't appreciate them!!!! comments mean truly so much to me!! i just don't know what to say besides thank you, so i usually write an emphatic thank you on each chapter and hope people know i mean it.... please don't think i don't care...please............. i care so much

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

we don't do that here

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

“But like,” words fall out of Taako’s mouth before he can stop them. “Live your life, dude, go a little nuts, feel like a whole person, give me $200, participate in the universe, get your back blown out on demand, fucking-” he laughs. “Have a collection, experience joy, buy a cat, get diagnosed with autism, fall in love-”

“What was that last part??” 

if that (from revenge plus one) isn't a happy ending what is (i'm hoping the people who care enough to read a post like this have either read it already or are going to go. oh my god i have to read revenge plus one tonight)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no and if i did i would block and delete em, there's no time for that. fuck em. this is a joy pursuit (i would cry though. don't. what the hell. just close the tab like a normal person. someone MADE THAT.)

9. Do you write smut?

oh baby DO I

i do intend to write some more publishable stuff soon. most of my personal stuff has gotten Way Too Weird. but look out for some horny supervillain taakitz soon if thats your cup of hot chocolate with too many marshmallows in it 👀👀👀👀

10. Do you write crossovers?

sorry i am obsessed with one thing at a time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

hope not! if so i cast a billion death spiders on them. smooch. partake in the joyous act of baring your soul via dumbfucks yourself, coward

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

once, i think? im not sure they finished

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

absolutely, some of my best stuff was originally rp!!! i am so sorry @holdmecloser-gandydancer @noodyl-blasstal for not continuing some super exciting projects, my brain is electric soup and my life is a circus. someday. someday we will play again. i must believe

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

if you did not expect taakitz i have 29+ fics you should read

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

everything is possible until you give up. so who knows!!!!!!!!!!! it sure does help to know there are people that will still read things if and when they are ever finished though

16. What are your writing strengths?

VOICE! dialogue. fun

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

planning fucking ahead

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

caution necessary but i mean live your life, just be aware of the err of google translate

19. First fandom you wrote for?

on ao3? wtnv

before that? squints. maybe homestuck or............no it was shakespeare

man. fuck

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

revenge plus one, probably, i miss living in it

nothing says passion like 90k and baby's first adhd medication!!!!!!!!!

really though please go read it. if you have 90k worth of attention and time and interest

also hey? in general? if you read this far? keep writing. and enjoy it. self indulgence isn't just nice, it's what makes life worth living. make for you, and then the comments and appreciation are bonus. snare a few friends in your web and you're living, baby

keep reaching for the stars

[black-emporium-exchange]

HOW TO SIGN UP FOR BLACK EMPORIUM!

Yes sweet nuglets, it’s that time of year again: Time to sign up for Black Emporium!

CLICK HERE TO SIGN-UP!

↳ Helpful Links:

Rules & Assignment Requirements - Updated for 2023! || Participation Walkthrough Guide || FAQ || Requests on Ao3 || Tagset || Nominations Spreadsheet || Request Database || Parent Collection (All Past Years) Signups end: July 16 July 15, 2023 @ 9 AM US Pacific / 12 PM US Eastern / 4 PM UTC+0 || Countdown

↳ Changes This Year

RULES & ASSIGNMENT REQUIREMENTS: Please take the time to re-read our Rules and the requirements for assignments before signing up. RATINGS: If you are interested in receiving or creating Mature/Explicit level works (see Ao3 rating(s)), you must "opt in" by checking the "E" box for both offers and requests. Please note you must be 18+ to offer/request/create Mature or Explicit level gifts. For a more detailed explanation, click here. TREATS: If you are open to receiving treats, or a specific type of treat (single-recipient, multi-recipient, fanart, fanfic), you must "opt in" by saying so in the sign up description box. This field does not apply to your offers. For a more detailed explanation, click here.

For a how-to-guide of the whole exchange that includes all of the information in this post, please take a look at our Participation Walkthrough Guide and FAQ.

A STEP-BY-STEP GUIDE TO SIGN-UPS BELOW THE CUT:

1. SIGN IN TO AO3

If you don’t have an Ao3 account, contact the mods for help!

2. GO TO THE BLACK EMPORIUM SIGNUP FIELD (LINK)

3. SCROLL TO THE “REQUESTS” FIELD

Once nominations are finished, you'll be able to sign up. In your sign-up, you'll specify the works you'd like to receive and the works you're willing to create. (They do not necessarily have to be the same!)

You must fill out at least three requests and three offers. You may only select each pairing once, but may give multiple ideas per pairing in your prompt.

If you are interested in receiving Mature- or Explicit-rated works, you must be at least 18 years old and opt-in by checking the appropriate box ("E"); this is not a guarantee you will receive a higher level.

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[mistressheroine]

author interview

Thank you for the tags @gneebee & @im-immortal

Happy New Year everyone!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

6

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

43,408

3. what fandoms do you write for?

The Walking Dead - Beth Greene/Daryl Dixon

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Keep Me

A Stolen Moment

La Dame Blanche

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Something

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes, and I try my best to respond to every comment I get. I massively appreciate all the support and feedback I get so I try my best to acknowledge that.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Something was definitely the angstiest thing I've written so far, although I do have a second part for La Dame Blanche in my notes that would probably beat it...

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I Want Your Midnights probably 😉

8. do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully I haven't had any hate directed my way since I started posting earlier this year but I know it happens.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I want Your Midnights was my first attempt at writing smut and I gotta say I'm so proud of how it turned out. Writing smut always made me really nervous but once I got started it was actually so much fun and it's defintely something I plan to do again.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

No, and I don't have any plans to.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, although it sounds like it coulld be fun!

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

Beth & Daryl - I am literally never getting over them.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a lot of ideas jotted down, snippets of fic ideas or scenes rather than stuff in my WIPs. I do intend to get around to them all eventually. I did have a whole Beth Lives idea that I came up with a while ago about her going back to the farm but I think it's more likely that the idea is going to get incorporated into Keep Me at some point rather than it growing into it's own story.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Oh wow, I don't know. I'm not very good at critquing myself. Hopefully keeping them as much in character as I can?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Right now I feel like action sequences (I'm trying to write some action sequences for the latest chapter of Keep Me) - creating the right vibe for them and building the suspense. I also think sometimes I'm in danger of repeating the same words a lot when describing something. Having the confidence to trust myself once I've written something out as well, I do look to @im-immortal for a lot of reassurance and I massive appreciate her taking the time to read the stuff I send to her 😊

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I did a bit of this in La Dame Blanche but I don't think I'd ever be confident enough to use more than a few words at a time. Google translate is notroious for messing stuff up and I wouldn't want to do it if I wasn't confident that I was getting it right.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Alias on FF.net - I post one very short fic there once and then Something was originally posted over there back in 2014 but I didn't write anything from then until earlier on this year.

20. favourite fic you've written?

Keep Me has my heart right now because it's the biggest thing I've ever attempted, but writing I Want Your Midnights was so much fun and really made me feel more confident as a writer.

A lot of you have been tagged already so sorry if I'm tagging you again but anyone who wants to join in please do! @burningupasun @boltthrutheheart @sasusc @fairybellworld

[fymagnificentwomcn]

I still have plenty to say on the topic, so bear with me, the original link is here, it would be too much there I think.

Anyway thank you Sol @palaceoftears for these tags that succinctly sum up the main point of the original post, let's bring them as starting point here:

#joanna you ate this!!! missed reading you#truly love how deeply you analyzed that confronting suleyman IS confronting the system!#also the freeing aspect because like freedom doesn't have to mean happiness?#yes ofc hurrem wouldn't be happy knowing ultimately suleyman didn't love her & her children over himself#but it's still freeing to not live yout whole life brainwashed lol?#like I never get how ppl that loves her watch her going from 'i'll kill the sultan' & 'don't treat us as animals' to dependant on suleyman#and just go 'happy ending :D' about it#mahidevran sultan#hurrem sultan#sultan suleiman#magnificent century#muhtesem yuzyil

You know how much I dislike Surrem, but I absolutely get people shipping it without getting it like "happy in love" (huge kudos to my sis Tisha) since it's an extremely complicated, mutually toxic relationship, while yes they do love each other at same time. But they are both each other's heaven and hell simultaneously throughout the whole show, with Hürrem being in worse position due to power imbalance. Power imbalance that never fully goes away. He might also be dependent on her in emotional way since he himself comes to belief she is the only person who would never betray him (because she truly had least benefit in it). Don't be fooled though, if she had e.g. crowned Bayezid in S3 as Sah intended, he would have shown her no mercy. /I once mentioned a bit about them, also historically here./

And LBR she got mistreated by him (please, he told her to kill herself for him, and the goal was not to determine whether she had poisoned Mustafa truly) multiple times before S4, it was only because of the topic covered I mentioned S4 stuff, especially related to how he screwed her kids.

People think of stuff in "tangible" categories and why stuff like mere "awareness" (without leading a revolution or whatever lol) seems to have little meaning.

Which is again one of the main themes of the show - to give voice also to those who lost and as such do not have the "but we won, we were happy, we lived" defence always acting for them. Bah, even controversies or discussions surrounding them. They are losers, not even worthy to talk about, and put on sidelines. We often discuss what motivated the "big figures" who got to become rulers, even if we do not approve of their actions or criticize them. Rarely we talk about "losers". Which is what Mustafa's letter stressed - people will deem me as traitor, while your name will be written in golden letters because of all your victories. This alone will make your name remembered. And even considering that Mustafa was lucky in that people generally did not believe him to be a traitor, with Bayezid it was much harder because yeah he did openly rebel and it's not something we can deny. But some jump to conclusions like 'he was insolent and one day decided to rebel for no reason' (yes, I've seen such takes) is very simplistic. I do not even approve of a lot of his actions there since while I get his anger at Suly and Selim I hate how he involves plenty of soldiers in a fight without a chance to succeed as long as Suly ass lives, but damn takes like above truly erase what brought him to such point. Because he was the prince with bigger support at that time. He could have waited for his father to die soon and easily taken the throne. /And historically - yes if you actually dig up sources, he didn't wake up and decide to attack innocent cookie pacifist Selim lol/. Show! Bayezid telling Defne that he would be labelled as a "rebellious prince" for future generations with obvious evidence backing it up means a lot because even though he IS one, there is so much more to this story and what bought him to this point, starting from his father's attitude to him since he was a kid.

And damn I do need to stress the need for the critical approach to SOW (which does not preclude stanning the characters/getting interested in historical figures ofc)? Maybe not here, but I still see TikTok shit on “The big 5” introducing feminism to Ottoman harem. There is no revolution we can talk of in any case, but truly, where is feminism involved in Haseki institution? It only privileges one woman over others. The others are still required to serve them, which is why we had the Hürrem/Gülnihal and Nurbanu/Valeria stories. And what it ties with what Sol says once Hürrem tries to kill Gülnihal - her parents' ghosts appearing to tell her It's not revenge. It's not what you promised us. Meanwhile, the men are still in power, with a person like Suleiman having unlimited agency. More.. the man selects the woman he gives those privileges too. And even if he grants her freedom (if HE pleases so), it has little actual effect because we all know she is still forbidden to leave him and would have lost her kids anyway if she had done so. Thus said, the moment when show Hürrem slams the door to Sulyass' stupid face is one of my fave Surrem moments without a doubt and one of fave H moments in general ahsmshs. / BTW One day I will finally talk how Westerners focus more on say legal marriage when it that system having multiple sons was more ground-breaking because even free brides from noble families who did not have children had little power and agency. /

There is plenty of irony involved, just as Mahi finally freeing herself from attachment to Suly once he rejects her freedom to which he is entitled by the System. Bah, only he has the power to do so regarding his women. It's all only at his own discretion.

It is precisely what I also mean by "taboo-breaking" and the questioning Mahi does of Suleiman and the way he (as Sultanate) operates. In that world mere questioning could break the taboo. We do not know what future lay ahead for anyone, but damn what he kept doing was neither just nor wise according to the very norms of the times themselves. Yes, Mustafa was the most promising and fitting candidate for the throne and he did not betray his father, so Suleiman removing him from "open succession" was not even why this method of succession had been established in the first place and demanded from princes assembling their own support, also ensuring that he would be easily accepted to prevent discord and rebellions. Mustafa did it too well, the horror. And that him wanting to do something (also as he himself stated, since he got privilege of being the prince and be able to rule, he should not sit idly, but use it for good purpose and the people) only brought him troubles because of Suly ass own ego only shows again the problems with this system and being centered on one person so much. Suleiman violated a lot for his own agenda, centered around himself, not the future of the state. This is what Mahi is criticizing and stating it to his face when he tried to paint his son as a traitor to present himself as just and acting for the state IS taboo-breaking in itself. Asking the question instead of dismissing it all as "fate", as Mihrimah tried.

Mahidevran tries to awake Mihri, who while rich and "still in power play", is very similar to her in many ways (also with the one big sin that has weighted on them silently). They all lost. Even Selim. Getting Mihri's brother (Hürrem's son) on the throne did not mean triumph and happiness for her. Heck, even Selim is a walking wreck. It's not even about sides because SS truly managed to destroy everyone's lives, not only one side's, so in the end it's not even favoritism. All for him to go with his beautiful words, a show-off victory, and his beloved throne (while saying something else in his monologue). Mahi telling Mihri to stop holding her father blameless IS the moment making someone else's eyes open and maybe do not let actively go for something that will not help anyone out at this point, like causing discord between Selim and his son. These are small things that are important for the theme and how mental freedom is also of value. Same with awareness. Nobody expects revolution or claims something. And we are at a particular point when Mahi already lost Mustafa and says it already in the context with him gone. She won't resurrect him with her words ofc LOL. And Mahi truly didn't have to do this, just take popcorn and look at Hürrem's kids & other descendants fighting even more.

You can precisely see when SS decides how to dispose of Bayezid when Mihri says she will never forgive him and will be dead to him if he executes her brother. The lightbulb over his head in this moment lol. So her continuing to hold him blameless, while putting everything on Selim and Nurbanu is buying his shit and rules of the Sultanate. Mihri might have power, so she can stir things up in attempt to still "win", but.. they all lost. Her acceptance of it and stating it out loud before leaving Topkapi again has meaning. One might continue to have power and live in palace (unlike Mahi), but they all lost anyway. Mere meddling that can cause only chaos to still try to win is meaningless and can ony be harmful. As such, Mahi's words can have at least some impact.

Mahi and fate as Sol's post with Plami's commentary also has this delicious tidbit with mirror - most likely Hürrem would have never ceased to hunt down Mustafa after Mehmed's death because she had decided on eliminating him long before that and kept carrying out the plan via concrete & repeated actions. However, Mahi still questions herself on that because she can never know. And even if it changed nothing, it still tormented her and polluted her conscience. Because culpability is still there, regardless of "system" and circumstances" and whether it has any tangible effect or not. Same with Selim still being culpable even though SS wanted Bayezid executed. He still chose to do so anyway. Bah, he is actually very self-conscious and states clearly that he won because unlike the others he was able to kill his brother.

Similarly, Mustafa, Cihangir, and Bayezid also made their choices. Mustafa could have axed Suleiman and it would have been hard to blame him for this in the situation it boilt down to. Actually, he was the one with biggest support at that moment, so rules of the Sultanate definitely allowed him to dispose of an aging ruler who began making a multitude of mistakes. He had the biggest power at his disposal if he wanted to. Moreover, Musti also chose to invite the member of the opposition faction because she was his sister, despite said sister openly declaring her standing on the opposite side and speaking to him "with her mother's words" last time they met. Once more, instead of rules of Sultanate and how the system expected him to act, he chose familial bonds.

Then again, Bayezid did have Selim on his knees in front of him and chose not to kill Selim, despite Selim never promising him any change or begging for mercy.

They both died, but they also could have chosen differently and compromised their conscience and values in the process.

Yet the opposite choice to adhere to the Darwinist rules and get the throne at any cost is not something mechanic that promises happiness or safety, either. Actually, it can make you painfully blind. We see Hürrem deciding blood will be spilled only of her enemies once she learns her son is going to end up on the throne. When she meets with the witch after Mustafa is dead and the throne for one of her sons IS a certain thing.. it's not what she wanted to hear, starting from her own imminent demise from natural causes. Same with her trust in the "human face" of the Sultanate aka Suly ass:

The "right, sultana?" is an ironic call-back to the beginning of the episode when she uses same words about Suly's power to exclude herself from the matter of Mustafa's death.

Also let us note the use of the word "destiny"😱 .

Also, Hürrem did not come back to ponder her preceding conversation with the witch earlier, as she had another proof of herself not interpreting it correctly - when she assumed Nazenin's baby would be the one the witch predicated as the Sultan. Nurbanu was after all pregnant with Murad at the same time.. so no, the witch was not mistaken, Hürrem was simply so caught up in her own vision of how it would go (also with Baye taking the throne) or assumed the witch to be mistaken, so she didn't notice it was about her grandson.

Another interesting thing is that the witch also predicts Mihrimah's future and that while her physical illness will pass soon, the spiritual pain will soon start and persist.

Because even if we "win" in that we survive, it does not need to bring happiness with it. At all.

It doesn't work like this either (Mihri talks about sacrifing Musti and Cih), while we are at it. There are no simple mechanisms like that! And how Mihri adopts her mother stance and calls her out that only one of her sons can survive according to the Darwinist rules (which is also what Rüstem advocates in any circumstances, only for him there is no support for Bayezid really... any can go) is just irony at its finest, and it stems also from her feeling of guilt - I already tainted my conscience and went again familial bonds, so let it at least mean victory for my favourite brother. She is now quick to accept one of them will die, she just wants to ensure it's not Bayezid.

Another of Hürrem's children that do adopt her "survival no matter the cost" agenda (and no, it's hard going for that to "pacifism" agenda shortly after getting what you wanted), and to a bigger extent, is Selim obviously.. Selim states to Bayezid that he will live because he is capable of killing his brother for his own survival. But we know what sort of life this is (and that he won't live long from history). He might later quote his mother to Mihrimah and convince himself that since nobody is innocent under this dome, so only the deserving win, but outside that, he does call himself a "brother killer" and does consider it a burden. /And Selim being his mother's son is another fascinating topic, since he was like.. her least fave and yet he is the one most alike her and who most absorbed her views and agenda.. to later emerge as sort-of third unexpected faction /.

Neither Mihrimah nor Selim ever found peace after adhering to the System's rules of fratricide. Bah, they cannot even be a family again as the only surviving members.. instead they openly accuse each other of being brother killers. Judging by history, they will eventually learn to co-operate, but nothing will be the same ever again. There is no moral victory in it for sure. Selim does not claim it any point. Actually, he is the one to point out that: We all lost. Innocence died and nothing will be as before. We can accuse Selim of many things, but he is a pretty self-conscious character indeed.

The others might be dead, but they did adhere to their principles and values due to choice.

The power of reflection or questioning is also tied to to the concept of choice as what makes us a human. MC never promises us happy ending (how it could, we all know the ending point), but the mere presentation of choice, of humans trying to create something positive, like Mustafa, Bayezid, and Cihangir deciding not to fight against each other as expected, is meaningful.

Instead we got nobody truly winning or benefitting from what happened LBR. It cannot get worse than that, really.

The whole issue again reflects what I said earlier in that post on how Erdogan historical propaganda works. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but there is no questioning at all. Instead we have normalization of violence and presenting it as something necessary, and that there is no choice or alternative to what happened. The sultan killed his brothers, but he had to. It was necessary, it was automatic. There is even no person behind it, but a robot always doing the right (even if brutal) choice because "it was like that".

And to some up the great ironies of life, we can remember that Mahi who lost it all... survived them all, so she won the Darwinist game in the end despite being rejected by System multiple times:

[bittersqxtch]

Songs and Ships

thank you @athenswrites for the tag! i shall add @imslowlydisintegrating and @taeonysus8 (i really need more writer moots sob sob)

the rules of this tag game: write 2-5 songs that represent a ship between your characters (can be romantic or platonic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from your WIP beneath each song (if possible!).

i've decided that i'm gonna focus on Jae and Jun from TGCT for this since i'm currently working on that fic and this might help me get the vibes right for once (literally on my third rewrite already, someone send help ;^;)

HER - Chase Atlantic

"ꜱʜᴇ ꜱᴀʏꜱ 'ᴏᴏʜ, ᴡᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ…ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ'."

this song reminds me of them because, in a moment of vulnerability, Jae makes Jun promise that he will keep hating her until the end of time. her greatest secret is that she is terminally ill (suffering from a heart illness) and that's why she lives every day like it's her last - considering how she refuses bad medication most days, she could drop dead at any moment. anyway, she has no problem hanging out with Jun and getting into messy situations with him because she believes that he will keep hating her indefinitely. unlike her friends, he won't mourn her when she dies - or at least that's what she believes. even when things get a little heated and feelings start brewing, Jae pushes the longing aside and intends to cut him off when the time comes. having a relationship with him would only subject Jun to a great deal of heartache and Jae would much rather he stay as her enemy than have him become something more only to end up wasting his life on mourning her once she passes away.

"Please hate me," Jae whispered, pulling him out of his thoughts.  When he turned to look at her, he was caught off by the silent plea shining in her eyes. "Why?" Jun frowned, confused by her request. "Why do you want me to hate you?" "Because you hated me before," Jae responded quietly. "It should be easy for you to keep hating me even if we start hanging out and acting civil with one another like this." A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she added, "Besides, you never liked me in the first place, did you? So don't change that now. Don't stop hating me."

"ɪꜰ ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ɢᴜʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴋɪᴄᴋ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴄʜ? ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ, ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀ ꜱʜᴏᴛ"

Just Friends - JORDY

Jun is the first to breach the thin line between love and hate. being reluctant acquaintances with Jae seems impossible until he finds himself thinking constantly about her, wondering if she got home safely from school, becoming irritated when she's too close to other guys, and so on. he denies it time and time again, half because he cannot imagine that he could've caught feelings for his enemy and half because he subconsciously knows that nothing good will come out of him developing feelings for her. still, a part of him can't help but yearn to cross over that line. unfortunately, Jae is intent on staying enemies. no one said anything about that coming with a few benefits though...

Uh oh, he thought, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. This won't end well. "Hey," he uttered quietly, knowing that he should probably step away from her but not being able to move from the spot. Jae quirked her eyebrow at him. Equally quietly, she replied, "Hi...?" "About my wish..." "What about it?" Jun's eyes flickered down to her lips briefly. Influenced by a sudden burst of bravery, he blurted out, "I know what I want." "Oh yeah?" Jae tilted her head to the side curiously, a small smile playing on her lips. She found his awkwardness adorable, but she wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, voice quiet, she prompted, "What is it?" "...Kiss me."

"ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ꜰʀᴇᴇ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ɪꜱ ᴍᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ. ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴏꜱᴛ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ"

Trapped In A Dream - RudyWade

when they figure out that they are living in the world of a manhwa and that all that they have been through was scripted by The Writer for the plot, Jae and Jun begin to question everything - their past, their hardships, their relationship, and where The Writer intends to take the story next. amidst the chaos, they start to remember bits and pieces of their previous lives and both start wondering whether their feelings for one another are real or if, perhaps, they are nothing more than a set-up forced upon them by their god.

(i have yet to write this section so no WIP writing for this i'm afraid)

[prumano-week]

It’s that time of the year again!! This year, it’ll be from 22-28 August!! I know this comes quite belated due to life being what it is, but hopefully this still gives some heads-up about everything!! 

I’d also like to remind people you can absolutely create beforehand and post it on the intended day!! If you post anything before the week starts, I’ll queue the post to appear on the day it falls under!!

There are two prompts to choose from each day again, so as to give you guys some more freedom and choice, but feel free to combine them if you want to as well!! Interpret them however you like; that’s the joy of events like this!! :D

Rules

Please follow this blog for updates on the event!!

Harassment and hate will not be tolerated.

Please break up long posts using a read more or they will not be reblogged.

All content is allowed so long as you use proper warnings for sensitive content, NSFW and common triggers. This blog will format tags as tw: trigger, so be sure to have them blacklisted. If you have triggers you’d like for me to specifically tag, please don’t hesitate to message me!

You may submit any medium, be it art, writing, moodboards, headcanon posts, you name it. As long as they fit within the theme(s) of the day.

Late submissions are always welcome and will be reblogged regardless of whether they were posted on time or not.

Please tag your post as #prumanoweek2022 and @ this blog (don’t forget the hyphen!) so there’s little chance of me missing it!!!

Prompts

Day 1 (Mon 22 August) – Short Temper // Needle & Thread

Day 2 (Tue 23 August) – Wine & Beer // Future/Futuristic

Day 3 (Wed 24 August) – Sick Day // Werewolf

Day 4 (Thu 25 August) – Long Distance // Pets

Day 5 (Fri 26 August) – Road Trip // Once Upon a Time

Day 6 (Sat 27 August) – Ocean // Forgotten

Day 7 (Sun 28 August) – Games // Nationverse

If you have any questions, please check the FAQ before asking, but if something is unclear, don’t hesitate to reach out!!!

So, please don’t be shy and come spread the love for this wonderful ship!! Good luck and I’ll look forward to everyone’s creations!!!

[omori-in-odd-places]

Welcome! Here I will post pictures of Omori editted into places he shouldn't be like liminal spaces or other video games for example, though some posts may include other characters (Be they from Omori or not). So a general unreality trigger warning applies to this blog.

Submissions and asks are allowed! If you have a specific request just shoot me an ask! I now operate a request limit so if the asks are closed please be patient as I will open them again once all the requests are completed.

If I don't think I can/don't want to make your request I will tell you explicitly by answer the ask.

Do not bring discourse to this blog

This blog is endo safe

Reblogs are greatly appreciated

Tags:

#omori in odd places - a post that is in the theme of this blog

#not in an odd place - an off topic post/not an edit

#my odd place - an edit that I have made

#requested odd place - a requested post

#[character] in odd places - a post containing a character that isn't omori, the character will be specified.

#submitted odd place - a submitted post

READ BEFORE REQUESTING OR SUBMITTING (Rules):

General Rules:

Nothing nsfw, including real gore. Depictions of horrific injuries are okay but nothing real.

This is not a place for ships. Please do not request or submit anything that has shipping at its core.

I reserve the right to decline your submission or request if it contains media that I'm not comfortable with. I don't have a comprehensive list at the moment but one will be created if the need arises.

If your request or submission contains things from media that isn't Omori or is from an Omori AU please specify these so I can tag the post properly

Requests:

I operate a request limit where after the limit is reached I will close requests until I have emptied my ask box. The current limit is 5

Do not send a request for the same thing more than once

Please only request one thing per ask. You're welcome to send multiple different requests at one time as long as they are in separate asks

If your request is for something from a certain fandom that isn't Omori, please provide images or links to relevant pages so that I can complete your request accurately

Please check my blog to see if something similar has been requested previously. I know tumblr's search function sucks but if you're on desktop you can type www.tumblr.com/omori-in-odd-places/tagged/[insert tag] to get all of my posts tagged with a particular tag (remove the square brackets)

This is not an incorrect quotes blog so do not request conversations between characters. Short lines of speech from one character is okay but please keep it specific to the situation/location you have requested

If your request breaks any of these rules or I otherwise don't feel like I can fulfil it, I will answer the ask letting you know this is the case. In the specific case where it's because a rule is broken I will make it clear which rule is broken. This also means that if your ask hasn't been answered yet there's a good chance I intend to complete it.

Submissions:

Please only make submissions through the submission tab. The asks are for requests and as such may be closed from time to time if the request limit is reached

Only submit your own work unless you have explicit permission (with proof) that you may submit someone else's work

Whilst this isn't necessary for your submission to be posted, I would greatly appreciate if you add an image description before submitting as this saves me time when I come to post it