#any white person wanting to have a say about this i invite you to royally shut the fucking fuck up

[balasha7sanbardo]

honestly you must be a special kind of sick and evil to support israel. they bombed a fucking hospital. a hospital. how psychopathic, privileged, and ignorant do you have to be to support them. y’all make me sick. I want to grab your faces and force you to watch what’s happening.

[silenttrxxs]

D&G - choi san - 산

Y/N was known to give an amazing show, her modelling agency had called her in to give her the best news she could have asked for. Walking for Dolce And Gabanna, it was a dream.

It was time, standing behind the scenes waiting for the celebrities and guests to arrive and take their seats. Y/N nerves were creeping in. It would have been a breeze if they hadnt have mentioned that her favourite person had been invited to attend the show. Youre wondering who this is, well its Choi San. Known for being one of the best and kindest souls to ever walk this planet, with looks that could kill a person.

The music starts, cueing the models all to get into place, last minute touchups being made and the doors swinging open. All nerves long forgotten for the time being as Y/N focused her soul into her work. It was all running smoothly until the moment she had finished, she thought to herself that she would get out of this show unscathed. Oh she thought wrong.

San was admiring the clothes, really intreguied by the pieces as everyone walked past him, but Y/N had really caught his eye. The piece that she wore was beautiful, really exentuating Y/N figure in all the right ways. But he couldnt take his eyes from Y/N face. The natural makeup highlighting key points of her face and this drawing in Sans attention not to mention the winks and little smiles that Y/N gave as she walked past, hoping not to get caught.

Everyone managed to get the show done it was time to get out there and greet people, the infamous afterparty. Y/N had changed a nice dress given to her for this event, she made sure to highlight it and showcase it off to everyone.

Taking a glass of wine from the tables lining the entrance Y/N took a sip looking around, before choking a little as her eyes land on san.

Dressed handsomely in a white suit from last years collection, he really looked something out of a royal movie. He was glancing around clearly trying to figure out if he wanted to be at the afterparty. Feeling somewhat the same and wanting to just rest herself, Y/N took a gulp of the wine and walked towards san.

"you look like you want to be here" Y/N said laughing a little.

"My names Y/N, You?" Y/N said trying to play it cool infront of him something striking a confidence she didnt know she had.

"Well hello to you too, my names san" san said laughing a little.

"Well i must say you look handsome today" Y/N remarked a slight blush creeping up her face as she locked eyes with San.

"You did amazing up there Y/N, True beauty doesnt often land infront of me like this" San said being the first to slyly grasp Y/N hand bringing it up and placing a chaste kiss to her hand.

"A princess like you should be worshipped" San said not stopping the rare flirtatiousness come out of him like a tap.

"Well arent you something huh san" Y/N said giggling and trying to turn away to hide the blush on her cheeks.

San laughed noticing the blush but not wanting to probe into Y/N and ruin this chance before he even got it.

"You wanna come back to my hotel its not far and you and me both dont exactly fit the afterparty type huh?" San said laughing as he felt his own blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks.

"Y-Yeah sure why not" Y/N agreed grabbing sans hand and following him as he lead them out of the hustle and bustle of the afterparty.

Getting back to the hotel he turnt to Y/N, any other thoughts leaving his head as he leant into Y/N slowly gaging a nod from Y/N he leant in kissing her deeply, tongues dancing together and breathes getting caught together.

San was going insane slowly, the way she felt in his grasp was something he could have dreamed about. "God youre incredible" San spoke as they pulled away only to notice that Y/N eyes were blown wide and full of a lust that was powerful, he looked into her eyes before leaning in and whispering into her ear.

"Bedroom now, i want you naked and on all fours at the end of the bed by the time i get there" San said leaving a bite on her earlobe.

Y/N was done for the way the words left his mouth left her almost drooling, getting up quickly and moving to the bedroom stripping down to nothing and getting in position she felt helpless in the best way he had her wrapped around his finger.

"Good girl" San spoke as he walked into the room taking the belt off and tapping it in his hands.

"Do you think you deserve anything princess, i saw the way you was flirting with me, this is what you wanted from me isnt it, you knew excatly who i was from the start" San spoke a breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he cracked the belt watching the way Y/N body flinched and the wetness buliding up in between her legs clear and eviddent to san.

San couldnt hold back much longer he needed her just as bad as she needed him before he could even get a response he let his fingers trail down her folds, collecting the wetness onto his fingers and feeling the way she would clench around nothing. Begging silently for him.

"Look at you being so needy for me, just want me cock dont you doll" San said lowly before taking himself out of his clothes, lining himself up and thrusting into her harshly.

"Made for this arent you, such a cockslut... thats obvious to see" San said grabbing a handful of Y/N hair and letting out a breathy laugh. his hand gripping onto her hip with every thrust. sure to leave a bruise in its wake.

The way Y/N clenched around him with every word he said was mindblowing he didnt know if he could hold back much longer. Thrusting harder he let his head roll back as he felt the warm familar feeling collecting inside him. The noises tou made were guiding him to reach his high too. "gonna make me cum baby, gonna make you mine, no one can make you cum the way i do, youll only remember my cock now" san growled slamming into Y/N mercilessly.

San couldnt hold back anymore, he flipped Y/N over gripping onto himself and stroking himself more, "Open wide baby" San said watching the way Y/N Let her tongue hang loosely from her mouth. "F-Fuck" was all san could breathe out before releasing all ober her tongue, some of it falling and landing on her cheeks and even runnig down onto her breasts.

"Fuck youre made for me" San said before catching his breath and moving slowly, laying next to Y/N and pulling her into cuddle placing a chaste kiss to her forehead before she dosed off.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-Three

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hey, besties; sorry for the delay. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First, one of my coworkers called off (she doesn't even work here anymore because she missed too much), and I had to do two 10-hour shifts. Then my freaking internet went out because some tree trimmers cut the connection line for everyone! And after that, I had a crisis and lost the inspiration and drive to write. This chapter is a two-parter, which I usually wouldn't say I like to do, but it would've been over 10k words. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, thank you for reading!

Chapter Warnings: The reader has severely unresolved trauma, angst, Arryk is a white knight.

"The axe forgets; the tree remembers." - Zimbabwean Proverb from the Shona tribe.

You were still determining your place inside Maegor's Holdfast, unfamiliar with the royal wing layout like you were with the rest of the Keep, having found an abandoned terrace that the court long forgot. Leaves of green ivory crawled up the side of the castle, wrapping around the red rock banister like an unkempt tree in the Godswood.

Your eyes gazed at the iron mote of spikes that protected the Holdfast. They shined wet like a predator's teeth, grinning back at you in misery.

Your body felt full, yet empty, full of swirling emotions and thoughts you had long buried, stirring the formerly clear water into a murky pool. Yet in that same emotion, you felt nothing, the well dried up from a summer's prolonged drought left with dust and sand at the bottom. You were uncertain if the nothingness was a blessing. Conceivably, it was your psyche's way of coping with the trauma of your life's story. You were fearful that if you suddenly felt those surges of memories, thoughts, and regrets, the iron spikes would be dripping with your blood.

Your title was called out from behind you so softly and so tender it was a whisper in the wind, almost causing you to disregard it as a trick of your mind. The sound of armor clanking and fabric rustling told you otherwise.

"Princess, the hour is late. You must get your rest," Ser Arryk expressed, his voice as compassionate as a mother. You refused to answer, the energy to move your lips and tongue long sapped out from crying.

He stepped onto the balcony until he was beside you, his arms stiff behind his back, shoulders tense at the silence. Arryk was conflicted about what to do. He knew he could not order you to sleep. His position was not one to command the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen, but he was assigned to be your sworn protector in all matters, whether defending you from a foe or yourself.

"My Lady, you need not speak of what has stolen you from sleep, but let it take no longer. I shall lead you to your bed chambers," the kingsguard offered kindly, leaving no room for rejection.

Finally, your eyes met his blue ones, seeing your black lashes clumped together from tears. Arryk wanted to comfort and embrace you as any good-natured person would but refrained, simply placing an inviting palm on your shoulder. He had seen you at your worst years ago after your brawl with the Septa, knuckles swollen and red with the blood of the older woman, beautiful face pink and glistening with tears down your cheeks.

Otto Hightower, be damned. Damned to the fiery pits of the Seven Hells to burn for all eternity for what he made Arryk do. You were too dear to the knight to betray your trust anymore. Though Ser Arryk never discovered any hurtful information other than the peculiarity of you and the eldest son of the King's relationship. He spent every waking moment inhaling the same air as you, breathing in each exhale like it was his last. How could he ever betray your trust in good conscience?

"Aegon was the one who discovered Lyra's plans to smuggle me out of Kings Landing. He killed them." Your words tore him from his internal struggle with shock.

Arryk's brows scrunched in confusion, trying to recall what you were saying. His face paled when he did, remembering the blotchy grey faces displayed on the battlements of the Red Keep for all to see, for all to see the Hand's justice. May Lord Hightower's death be long and painful for what he did to you, Arryk thought.

"I wish Aegon were dead," you spoke aloud without realizing it.

The knight became worried, suddenly closing the distance between you to make somehow your confession disappear. "Princess. You must be careful what you say here. The walls have ears, and the ears have eyes."

"No, Ser Arryk. Let them hear it," you protested, your nails digging crescents into your palms. "Mayhaps they will understand the agony I have suffered all these years. The mornings and nights I have laid awake in bed, praying to the Old Gods and the New for them to somehow bring her back and make it so nothing happened." You sucked in a ragged breath, hiccuping from the remnants of your tears as your body became too challenging to carry. "I cannot do this anymore. I cannot be here."

The kingsguardmen did not understand your true meaning of how you desired greatly to leave this whole charade behind, to return to Dragonstone and watch little Joffery and the younger Viserys and Aegon grow into their skins, to watch Lucerys become the man you were confident for him to be. Instead, Arryk thought the worst, believing your words to be final and life-ending, as he firmly grabbed your biceps.

He said your name gently yet sternly, causing your glazed eyes to widen. "You must not think like that. I shan't allow it," he commanded. "You are the strongest maiden in the realm. You ride the fiercest dragon, feared by humans and its species. You have endured hardships and trials a girl of your age should never have to, and even when your blood was stolen from you, you did not turn to resentment. You were not bitter to those undeserving."

You attempted to move your face away from Arryk's, unconvinced at his words. He was so close that you could smell the mint leaves on his tongue. "You are stronger than you know, and until then, each moment like this, you will feel as if it is too much, but you will always find yourself emerging on the other side."

No words made their way to your lips, and you suddenly felt the rush of emotions you had thought dried. You stepped away from Arryk, embracing your torso as you faced the opened doors that led inside. You didn't want to feel anything. Not now, nor ever again. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you returned to the silver-armored knight of the Kingsguard.

"I seem to have lost my bearings, Ser Arryk," you whispered into the chill night air. "Will you help me find my way back to the guest wing?"

The request was a peace offering, a silent "thank you" for his unfailing kindness. If he had not dedicated his life in service to the King, he would've made an excellent father and an even better husband.

Ser Arryk nodded stiffly, taking long strides ahead of you until all you could see was his pristine white cape flowing like a field of wheat in the wind.

***

You desperately desired to stay within the confines of your bed, as if laying underneath the thin cotton sheets would protect you from the outside world. It was silly, and you felt childish, but truly, that was all you were—a child disguised as a woman painting a facade of fierceness and maturity on your skin. But the pigments had cracked and bleached from weathering winds, rains, and suns until it revealed the canvas underneath. You wished desperately for the chips to be covered, groping at your flesh to hide them from the world.

But it was too late, for they had seen the peeled paint and what lay beneath—a frightened young girl yearning for acceptance and love.

Tears returned to your eyes, a common occurrence over the past fortnight. Your maids had become used to seeing you sniffling in your bed as you were now, covers tucked underneath your nose to hide your sobs. They had tried more than once to find the root of your sadness, but you were a closed door, keeping those who cared for you locked from entering.

Helaena had moved your quarters to the Holdfast as she promised, something you were initially looking forward to. It meant less sneaking around the halls and the corridors of the Keep like a mouse to find Aegon, but that was why precisely you dreaded it now. Though you had scarcely seen him, no doubt drunker than a Bravosi sailor in the pillow houses, the fact that he resided within the same wing made your skin prickle with disgust.

He had yet to return your dagger, small and silver with dragons on the hilt, and you had half a mind to storm inside his chambers for it, but each time you were within eyesight of his door, profound nausea and the sting of tears would stop you.

How could you have lain with the man who bore the blood of two innocents? How could Aegon lay with the kin of the people he sentenced to death? You knew him to be cruel and unusual, but that was something even you could not rightly justify.

Aegon was no matter, you told yourself, rising from your bed at the smell of ham and boiled eggs. All that did was ensuring your Mother's smooth succession. You could achieve it in other manners of not seducing the eldest son of the King. Your presence was something enough to stop them should the Stranger take your Grandsire, and if Queen Alicent and Lord Otto Hightower try to place Aegon on the throne, you would gut her, then her Father, then her beloved first son before the following morn.

You would kill a legion of men before Aegon ever sat upon the Iron Throne, even if it meant your demise.

It's what your Father would want. He would proudly let his daughter lay down her life in service to the crown, just as he would. There would be no nobler of a death.

Jeyne had readied your bath and outfit for the day, a high-collared dress made of black satin. Small silver plates of metal and beads that looked like dragon scales were sewn on the torso in a 'v' shape, accentuating the scandalous low cut of your gown. The sleeves were a long, unsewn style, the stitching keeping them together ending just before the crook of your arm and flowing around you like a cape at your sides. You paired it with an ornate belt, the design of swirling dragons with their teeth bared melted into the steel,  matching hammered cuffs on your wrists. Your necklace was a simple chain, needlelike links dripping down your sternum until they looped into your house sigil. 

You looked to be in mourning garbs rather than the typical court colors, a common occurrence. Perhaps you were, in a sense, mourning. Mourning a loss you should have accepted years ago, weeping for happiness free of politics and schemes, mourning the connection from someone you tried so hard not to form one with.

The three ladies had learnt not to ask why you made such decisions in your clothes. They would only be met with a lie and a smile that stretched a bit too wide. They understood that something had happened and did their best to tread carefully. You were not cross with them, no matter how hurt, vengeful, or angry. Fiora, Jeyne, and Dyanna were innocent in all this, as Sara was, and you refused to have them involved with any of your personal affairs in fear of what would become of the three women.

You paused momentarily, adjusting the designed belt to rest comfortably on your waist, realizing the littlest maid was not there.

"Where is Dyanna?" you asked calmly, curious but not concerned about where she could be. "Is she unwell?"

"No, Princess," Fiora answered, ushering you to the vanity. "She's been assigned to care for Princess Helaena's children after one of the nursemaids fell ill and had to be sent home."

Your brows scrunched in confusion, frowning at the memory of your time with the young Prince and Princess. You have seen the little ones almost every day since the beginning of the planting season, and you haven't noticed any ailments in their caretaker.

You reasoned that illnesses always had the potential to be a sudden onset of symptoms. You had seen in your childhood on the merchant streets how a vendor was acceptable one day, selling different fruits and vegetables you could never afford, then the next, gone without a trace due to a fever. You hoped Jaehaerys and Jaehaera did not catch whatever it was. The first decade of a child's life was the most precarious, their tiny bodies not used to the dirt and disease the realm had to offer.

You left the thought at that, hoping to see the skittish, fair-skinned girl with them. A grimace made its way to your face, attempting to ignore how the wooden comb snagged on a tangle in your hair. Fiora styled it into a braided updo. Two thick plaits in a 'u' shape lay at your skull's base, a silver three-layered chain with black star sapphires pinning it to your hair. Clasping a pair of fan-shaped earrings in your lobes, you stood, stealing one last boiled egg before bidding your ladies farewell and greeting Ser Arryk at the door.

He followed wordlessly, as any knight should, observing how your hips slightly swayed with each step of your leather slippers. Arryk had tread carefully since that scornful night. Since the night you reeked of sweat, alcohol, and tears. He remembered seeing the stars reflected in your dark eyes, the violet hidden during the hour of the wolf, and he couldn't help but think how things might have been if your Father wasn't a Targaryen.

Perhaps he could've met you before he swore to take no wife and bear no heirs. Possibly still while he was a simple bannermen, living from allowance to allowance. Arryk would not have the luxuries he had now if it happened, but if ever given a chance, he might leave it all behind. It would be a shame to leave the highest rank a knight of lower-born descent could achieve, but he would do it for love, for only if you loved him back.

Your guard had suddenly stopped following behind you, standing idly with a slight wrinkle on his forehead and hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Ser Cargyll?" you questioned without words incredulously, tilting your head to the side.

He was silent for a moment more, seeming to come back from wherever he was inside his mind. It was a dangerous place to be inside one's head for too long. It sent some men mad, some women to despair, and some to where they could never leave. You knew what it was like when one would stay inside too long. It sent you reeling in anger, sadness, and joy. There is too much inside not to get lost in.

"Princess, this is not the way to the Godswood," Ser Arryk stated, the crease on his forehead gone.

"I know, Ser. We are not going to the Godswood today," you answered politely, not elaborating further as you continued walking.

"If you don't mind me asking, your Grace, where are we going?"

You flashed a bright smile at Arryk, glancing behind before coyly turning away. He started at the back of your intricately braided hair, mesmerized by the being that was you. His eyes traced how your ebony strands crossed in on themselves, the way the golden chains bounced with every stride. The knight noiselessly cursed the Maiden and the Mother for making you in their image.

While Ser Arryk did recognize the halls you traveled, he was sure you didn't. Your head twists and turns each way, peering into every door and threshold, searching for something he was unsure of.

"Princess, I may be a knight, but I am your protector. 'Tis my right to know your plans and destinations," he commanded as kindly a man could in hopes of not securing your wrath.

He had seen it once before in the training yard at the hour of ghosts, Prince Aegon standing too close to be considered appropriate, his sworn protector nowhere in sight. Despite Arryk's place on the ramparts above and the sun having long set in the west, he could spot the twitches underneath your eye, barely containing malice on your pursed lips as you pulled your bowstring. The knight hadn't noticed how you did it, but a rock was within the place of the arrow as you shot it at the crown Prince's foot, earning a yelp from the twenty-year-old lecher.

You turned back to him, crossing your arms with an undignified huff. "I am not gallivanting off into the Kingswood, Ser Cargyll. I do not understand your persistence with the matter." Arryk attempted to hide the frown that pulled his lips, but you saw him sighing softly and looking to the floor to think over your words more carefully. "We are visiting Grand Maester Orwyle. He has a collection of history and law books that has peaked my interest."

You stepped towards him, breathing a calming breath through your nose, and dropped your arms. Ser Arryk was a fragile soul, simple almost, only following the linear path of honor and duty with no concern for whether it was right or wrong. If the King said it, he did it. If the Queen said it, he did it. If you said it, he did it. His singular vision of things was almost admirable at times. To blindly follow orders without the moral guilt of your actions was something you hoped for. It would make things easier in this game of thrones and less heavy to bear.

But that wasn't life. That wasn't the fate the Gods intended for those with responsibility, though many attempted. Rhaenyra tried, and if you were her, impending the ever-looming doom of the crown, you too would stay tucked away in the little world where life felt light.

Arryk took your stillness as an invitation to walk alongside you, silently leading you to the Maester's quarters and saving your pride from ignorance. You ordered him to stay outside, and he obeyed without a second thought, dipping his head and muttering, "Princess."

Maester Orwyle was hunched over a large oak desk, tomes scattered across it, pieces of parchment covering most of the surface; peeking between them were lighter patches on the wood worn from centuries of usage. It was a simple room with a cot at the far end of it, large bookcases occupying most of the space. Multiple candles were lit throughout the dim room, the smell of incense burning heavily. Shelves lined the bare walls, glass bottles of liquids, salves, and dried herbs occupying them.

The brown-skinned man looked up from his work upon your entrance, sitting the quill he was writing with inside the inkwell and standing.

"Princess, how can I help you?" he asks sincerely. You could still recall when you first met him, scribbling notes and assisting the former Maester Mellos as he tended to you.

"I was inquiring if I may borrow some books of laws from your collection. I find myself not reading the correct ones in the library to assist my studies."

You weren't lying. You couldn't find the text you were searching for because it was not only laws. It was the death records of prisoners, and only the keeper of those things had access to them in their collection.

"Ah. I see," Orwyle nodded, rising from his desk and clasping his hands behind his canvas robes. He led you across the room, showing you to the section. "May I ask what specificity you require so that I may lead you to the correct tome?"

You planned for him to ask you this, and as you rehearsed a dozen times in your head, you smiled, bobbing politely. "Of course. I am in search of the laws regarding war aid. We have provided some to the Stepstones, and Lord Corlys brought to my attention that they require more. I do not want to make it seem like the Crown is inserting itself into the conflict."

He beamed slightly, a sight you never recalled seeing on the man before as he directed you to the section of law. An entire side of the bookshelf dedicated to just that, tomes of varying shades of green, brown, and black, and you blanched at the sight. What would the records be like if this was only the law section? Would you have time to sort through them all to find the one you need?

"Thank you," you said, concealing the sudden rush of anxiety within your gut. "I realized that your collection was vast, but this is..." you trailed off, gesturing to everything around you, "expansive. How do you ever keep track of them all?"

Orwyle chuckled, seeming to preen under what he took as praise, bowing in gratefulness. "It is not all from me, Princess. Each book has been added with every Maester since they were brought to the Keep. We simply divide each shelf by memory, though we try to keep the subjects together."

"That is..." you couldn't find the right words, truly at a loss for them as you stared at the collection before you, "extraordinary. You must show me everything!"

You took his arm in yours, leading him out of the secluded area like a child with their playmate, giggling like an unwed maiden as you skipped along. Orwyle was surprised by your giddy demeanor, contrasting the dim and almost gloomy atmosphere despite the late morning sun shining through the tall stained glass windows. The Maester was alone within these four walls, writing, studying, and mixing away with the occasional Lord or Lady stopping by. To have such radiant company was a welcomed intrusion to his duty-filled days.

Men are so easy. All you had to do was smile demurely, flutter your lashes, and they would eat shit out of the palm of your hand.

Orwyle guided you, explained how each section was organized, and added his anecdotes. You listened intently, nodding along to every word, no matter how minute it seemed. This endeavor had proven more fruitful than you intended. The Maester had enjoyed your company so much that he invited you back, insisting that you could pick whatever book you wished before he left to return to his work.

And so you did. Traversing to your rooms with six tomes piled high in your limbs before Ser Arryk insisted he carry some, keeping one hidden between the stack within your hold.

Once you reach your chambers, your sworn shield follows you, placing the stacks on a table with neatly stacked parchment, a letter sealed with the Targaryen emblem in black wax resting beside your writing set. You catch Arryk eyeing it for longer than appropriate, and you purposely meet his gaze, a raised brow on your face.

"That is all, Ser Cargyll. I thank you for your assistance." You never fail to detect how he stiffens when you say his title, a quirk you've been unable to comprehend.

As always, he bows and takes his leave, shutting the door noiselessly behind him. When the lock clicks, your hands immediately snatch the letter, knowing who it's from. You lived for the notes from your family; they were the lifeline that kept you afloat in the brackish waters of Kings Landing. It was your only form of communication with them, and you looked ahead to whatever they had to say, no matter how asinine or mundane the contents were.

You ripped the wax seal without care, devouring each word, your eyes moving too fast for your mind to keep up. You could quickly tell it was from your Father, the lines of his letters thicker and more potent than your Mother's, his writing purposeful.

"Daughter,

I hope you find yourself well. Your Mother missed you dearly at Jacaerys' nameday this spring, but she looks forward to seeing you for Luke's later this year. I informed her that you are dealing with matters of importance that require your attention and would be unable to attend. Death comes when we least expect it with crowned heads and ambitious hands."

Tears stinging took you from reading, pursuing your lips to keep them from wetting the document and making the ink illegible. You longed to return to Dragonstone and see your family. Smell the scent of brimstone and salt and feel the damp sea air on your skin as you rode Cannibal high above Dragonmont.

Daemon's reasoning was understandable, but it hurt. It made your heart clench and your chest feel hollow. Resting your forehead on the heel of your palm, the letter in the other, you continued.

"I know this will upset you, but I trust you'll understand my reasoning. We must make sacrifices until your Mother sits on the throne uncontested. You see the concept of duty and loyalty to your kin. You've always been the one out of my children to unwaver in your will, and that is something I admire.

I received word from Lord Dalton Greyjoy, who has proposed marriage just as you said. Your wit and cunning never cease to amaze me, daughter. I still need to send word regarding my decision. I wanted you to be the one to decide.

Lord Greyjoy is a fine match for you. His fleet of long boats and swords rivals that of the crown itself, but I hold my reservations regarding his intentions with you. I believe you have outdone yourself, for he seems bewitched, intent on making you his Rock Wife, and I am unsure if that is harmful or helpful. I've heard the rumors of his treatment regarding his Salt Wives, and I will not tolerate such things toward my eldest child. Should you accept his proposal, and he does not honor his duty as lord husband, I shall cut off his cock and throw it into the sea as a gift for his Drowned God.

Think over this. I do not expect an answer within a moon. If he truly desires you in such a way, he will wait as long as you deem fit. My daughter is not a shiny coin to be plucked and placed in a crow's nest.

Expect a letter from Lucerys soon. He's been inquiring about your happiness. I believe he misses you more than your Mother and I put together. I await your next raven with patience.

Yours Respectfully, Prince Daemon Of House Targaryen"

You scoffed, throwing the letter haphazardly across the table. You knew the proposal from Lord Dalton would come eventually, as you had corresponded for the past seven moons. It was a gratifying distraction you should have taken seriously, your letters filled with much less pomp than was expected for a woman of your status. Possibly, in your lack of care, you inadvertently wooed him as his last raven was treading the line of inappropriate. You remembered how his words made you, a girl who spent her early years in a whore house, blush.

He would be an excellent match politically, and perhaps you could grow to love him, even better his treatment of his Salt Wives. But you knew better. Lord Dalton Greyjoy only loved two things in this world: bloodshed and women. He would grow tired of you swifter than you would him, and it was not proper for women of the realm to have paramours, hypocrisy be damned.

You didn't want to give the situation more thought. Your Father permitted you to mull; you would gladly take it, opening the records book hidden between the stacks.

The pages were easy enough to navigate. The Masters, if not anything, were thorough, creating an index of years in ascending order to the most recent. Your finger paused on the one you remembered so well. The year in which you were stolen everything that might have been. The year that the Stranger claimed two souls earlier than they should have.

You turned the pages.

The smell of aged leather and parchment wafted into the air, nearly choking on its scent in the back of your throat. They arranged the death records from the first of the year to the end of it, and you searched for the seventh moon. On the fifth day, only two deaths are recorded, that of two prisoners named Lyra Black and Sara Smithe. The cause was beheaded by members of the City Watch.

It did not say the names of who, an intelligent choice on the Maester's part, for if you knew, their deaths would become sooner. They were lucky Mellos or one of the many others had the foresight not to write them down, as other Maesters had, but it only made this all the more exciting. The satisfaction as you plunged your dagger into their necks, slicing through tendons, muscles, and vertebrae, ensuring they felt every bit of suffering, anguish, and fear Lyra and Sara felt.

It would be messy. There were many veins and arteries within one's neck. You needed to bring some water with you to wash before returning to your chambers. It would all be for naught if someone saw you walking the halls with blood dripping from your digits and face.

You wished it would be the dagger Daemon had gifted you for your first name day to cut through their flesh, but Aegon still possessed it.

It was no matter. You had four more from the past, but that one, with its silver handle and roaring dragons engraved on both sides, held a place deep within your heart. And Aegon took it, as he always did with things. Take, take, take without concern about who he stole from. You would get it back, but not now. That would raise too much suspicion, and you would not put it past the eldest Prince to run to his Grandsire or Mother as he has done before.

You tried to recollect that fateful night, searching your memory for any detail you could sounder up, but it was hazy. The years you had blurred the picture of the throne room in your mind's eye. It was too painful to remember. Each time you thought of it, it was flashes, little glimpses of faces and bodies and heads. When you thought of it, all you could see was Lyra's smile, spending her last moments trying to reassure you, the fear behind Sara's eyes within her shackles, Otto Hightower's indifference, and Alicent's inaction in the face of two innocents deaths. You would never forget that, nor ever forgive.

You were scarcely in the Great Hall for a moment, and even then, your attention was elsewhere. You witnessed Ser Criston Cole grabbing you, pulling you back, the Queen turning away, and Lyra's comforting grin. Then, you saw them, gaze following the loops of the metal chain attached to Lyra and Sara, hands gripping at it as if the two women were nothing more than dogs. You met the eyes of two Gold Cloaks. You did not know their names, but you would soon; their countenance now burned into your mind.

Masterlist of Series

I've decided to change my uploading schedule from Sun/Mon to whenever possible. I'll always let you know before I post so you won't have to ask, "when are you going to post?!" I know that's not fun, but it works best for me because I get myself so worked up over updating on time when I'm in control of the situation. Also, I'm going to be getting rid of people in my taglist who haven't interacted with this fi since the list is so big. I want to have it all in one and make room for those who are active. So if you've been in my notifs in the past two months, you'll be fine. Welp, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The chapters are gonna get a little messy from here! xD

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @daenerysqueenofhearts, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @prettywhenicry, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @heavenly1927, @prettylittlelady, @hjgdhghoe, 

[simplyclary]

You've Got Great Taste: Taylor Zakhar Perez's Fashionable Characters

This entry is the sort of sequel to the first TZP lookbook. This will focus on four of Taylor's characters, mainly Alex Claremont-Diaz from Red, White and Royal Blue, Marco Peña from The Kissing Booth 2 & 3 as well as Dustin from 1Up and Shane from Minx.

To be completely honest, Taylor has the ability to turn even the plainest combo of a t-shirt and jeans into a freaking masterpiece. Hence, most of the looks in this lookbook will be the more casual but still fashionable side (as compared to the first part where the fits are more on the dressy and preppy side).

The order of characters would be Alex, Marco, Dustin and Shane. Similar to the first lookbook entry, this will just be a compilation of photos plus a personal commentary.

The [cover] photo posted above is a photo of Alex Claremont-Diaz after he addressed the crowd at the Democratic National Convention in Brooklyn, New York and he is seen wearing a gray-blue suit combo, paired nicely with his signature black bracelet and watch. This is one of the many varieties of suit and tie outfits Taylor wears in the movie, especially when Alex is seen attending formal events.

I honestly have no idea what to comment about a suit and tie combo other than he looks good in it (Taylor looks good in any outfit, I'm not kidding!) and it makes him look like someone you should respect and listen to, which I do in every occasion anyway.

There will also be breakers in between each character that will serve as pauses so that it will not be just photos with paragraphs. Take it as chapters, if you will.

Get some drinks, grab some snacks and let's get re-acquainted with the fashion senses of the First Son of the US, the MVP, the gaming world's IT boy and the world's first firefighter model ;)

One of Alex's looks is already featured above so let's start with the First Son [of our hearts], shall we?

The First Son of the US Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz

Before I say anything else, I would like to admit that I can hear this photo loud and clear because like y'all, I have seen the movie more than 10 times.

Anyway, this is Alex in the coffee shop when he is called by Miguel for a quick chat. He is wearing a denim ensemble composed of a plain white shirt topped with a denim button down with folded sleeves paired with denim jeans and white sneakers. He finished the outfit with his usual accessories (black bracelet, watch and key necklace).

I want to say that this outfit combo is the definition of casual. It's a very chill outfit that one can find in most stores. Considering Alex is a law student, this look is also something a student can just put on for a regular day at school which is practical and I love that.

I would also like to add that this is my most favorite Alex look in the entire movie, like the simplicity of the outfit combined with his charm just makes a perfect combination for me. I'm still kind of mad though that Henry did not see Alex in this outfit because dang, Alex was oozing with hotness and handsomeness.

I'll be honest for a second, if I were invited to Alex's New Years' party and he shows up wearing this, I wouldn't be able to look away similar to the guests because how would I be able to when he looks this gorgeous?

To continue, this is a more dressy Alex look. This was his outfit for the New Years' Party. He was wearing a black button-down with a satin (I think?) navy green blazer with leafy print and black pants and shoes. This is also a memorable outfit because this was the outfit he was wearing when he and Henry shared their first kiss, which adds to the romantic factor.

Alex definitely pulled this look off and he was definitely the eye candy of his own party. I do not blame the guests for staring at him in this outfit because he looks so good. I also think that this outfit was the right balance of fit and loose, which is perfect for dancing the night away at a party, which I love.

On a more practical note, I think the material of his blazer is not suited for the chilly winter night because I observed in the scene when he went out to find Henry, he was raising his shoulders to his ears and his hands were in his pockets so his blazer might not have been super effective against the winter chill.

Other than that, this was definitely a good outfit to welcome in a year that was filled with first kisses, missed phone calls, a lot of romance, leaked emails and a win on both sides of the Atlantic.

Ahhh, this look was a super close second favorite of mine. This navy blue blazer with a black inner shirt and pants combo is the perfect smart casual look of Alex when he was strolling the streets of Paris with Henry. It's also one of those outfits that fits Taylor's figure so well and I love that.

I also love the fact that this is one of the first outfits that Taylor wore as Alex, considering that their Paris cafe scene was the first scene he and Nick shot as Alex and Henry.

Also, Alex not wearing a button-up shirt during this was a good idea because if you know the scene that comes after this casual stroll, you know that Henry had a hard time removing his shirt because of the "rigid" buttons so Alex had to step in and help him undo his shirt then. I just love the idea that Alex probably had an easier time removing his clothes than Henry but that's not the point I'm making here. Let's just proceed.

Awww, look at Alex all smiling and happy and looking all cute with his cowboy hat.

This look is something that I can see people wearing for a night out in a bar somewhere where you and your friends have drinks, do karaoke and have fun. A simple printed button-down shirt with denim jeans is such a chill combo and can be worn on any occasion. Alex pairing the outfit with a cowboy hat really gives off the full Texas vibe and that is so cute.

Add the fact that the print on Alex's shirt is lipstick marks, which I find cute and it honestly adds to the romantic aspect and kind of symbolizes Alex's romantic soul and love for Henry because this is the scene where he is the definition of the heart eyes emoji and has the realization that he is in love with Henry.

This is the perfect outfit for a night out with friends and lovers alike. Just hope you won't get your heart broken eventually.

This photo of Alex/Taylor is screaming "Let's take a photo doing peace signs before I get reprimanded by the president who is also my mom for causing an international scandal". That is just a hilarious concept to think about.

Anyway, Alex in a leather jacket with a black shirt paired with jeans? The temperature in the room just went a little up. Something about a leather jacket simply screams badass to me and there's nothing wrong with that.

I like to think that having the jacket on is practical because the Oval Office might be chilly so Alex might have really needed the jacket. It also gives off like a rebellious son vibe, which is Alex in a way so that's fitting.

This photo is just too cute so I might just leave you with that and move on to the next look.

Alex in a gray sweater and jeans combo is the winter look inspiration we all need.

This outfit combo is just the perfect winter outfit to keep him warm and cozy. Also his puppy-like face in this scene adds an extra level of cute. Like you just want to hug him while he tells you all about his Texas strategy memo.

This outfit is a perfect ensemble when you just want to stay in your house during the winter months and set up a warm fire, make a glass of hot chocolate with marshmallows, curl up with a book and enjoy your holiday. Unless you're like Alex who likes to work, even during the holidays (I don't blame you if you are like Alex, I actually admire that!).

Do admit that you can hear what Alex says in this scene loud and clear. Like be honest with yourselves.

This outfit is what Alex wears when he arrives at Kensington Palace during the weekend where he is supposed to do damage control with Henry. He is wearing a black tank top under a printed unbuttoned button down with jeans and his usual accessories. This look is definitely the opposite of Henry's look during this scene. Like Alex's look was casual while Henry's look was dressy.

Now, this is not what I would personally pick for a visit to a royal palace but hey, Alex was immediately sent there so I couldn't blame him for not having enough time to go over his clothing options so I guess this look would have to do.

Awww, look at Alex leaning against a wall looking at Henry talking to a kid [probably about Star Wars] in the children's hospital. Sparks were starting to fly.

This look was a very clean look. Like the pristine white button-down shirt with the blazer and slacks combo was just giving off immaculate vibes. It's not the formal suit and tie business look but it is a good alternative. Also, it makes Alex presentable enough and not intimidating for the children which is lovely.

You can never go wrong with a button-down and blazer combo for a visit to the children's hospital. Maybe spray a bit of your favorite perfume (Santal 33, in Alex's case) and you're good to go.

That's it for Alex's part of the lookbook, folks. I did not include all of his outfits because he has numerous looks in the movie and this would read like a novel if I were to include all of them. Just know that like Taylor, Alex is a fashionable character, no matter how casual or dressy his looks are.

Now, let's go back in time a bit and head to Los Angeles Country Day High School and visit our one and only MVP, Marco Valentin Peña.

The MVP Marco Valentin Peña

He's so cute in this photo, I can't help but swoon!!

Anyway, Marco is one of Taylor's characters who has the most casual looks. Understandably so, because he's a high school student so casual is the way to go.

This is one of the plainest outfits he had in The Kissing Booth 2 but he just wears it so nicely and it fits him so well. It's a simple combo of a burgundy t-shirt with jeans and black sneakers. Marco is also one to accessorize with jewelry so in almost every look, he has a couple of bracelets on, a chain necklace and a ring on his right pinky finger.

This casual look is one of my favorite looks of Marco in the movie, and it is perfect for a casual day out at the arcade where you can just play pool or dance away at the DDM machine with friends and schoolmates.

Oh, if only every guy in high school looks as good as Marco? He is truly a high school heartthrob.

Also, he makes a simple school uniform composed of a light blue button up shirt and a tie worn a little bit loose look good. Like what else can I say? Who can blame all the students swooning over him in class?

I would also like to add that a bomber jacket is a good addition to the uniform look because it gives the uniform a sense of stylishness which I like. It might also be chilly in the classroom which is a reason why he has a jacket on, which is good for practical reasons.

I no longer know what else to comment about this look other than the fact that he makes a student uniform look good so let's just proceed to the next MVP look

Moonshot...

This outfit, composed of a silver inner long-sleeved top with a black waistcoat-like vest and flowy black pants with sneakers is a good option for a dance tournament. It's simple but the silver of the inner top is like a glow in the dark-type material and therefore gives a slight shimmer effect.

Marco looked good in this outfit. He was definitely shining like a moon during a dark night. Add the fact that he is a good dancer and the way the lights bounce off the silver of his shirt gives it an extra glow.

This was also more of the simpler costumes compared to those of the other contestants in the tournament, so I love that idea because first off, it's a dance contest and not a fashion show so people will focus more on the moves rather than the looks. Hence, Marco and Elle's moonlight-like outfit combo was a good choice.

He [and Elle] won the competition, but it came at a price of a little heartbreak. I only wish Elle gave him a portion of the cash prize to compensate for the practice time he allotted [and the heartbreak] but I won't dive into that because that's a whole another topic.

Now, who wouldn't want to listen to a little serenade on the street, especially if the person singing is as handsome and talented as Marco? Add a little acoustic feel with the guitar? Uhmm, yes please! I would definitely not pass on that.

Anyway, his outfit here is composed of a printed open button-down shirt, a white tank top and jeans paired with his usual accessories. The look is giving very street performer vibes and I like it. It's very chill and casual and perfect for a little concert on the sidewalk.

I have nothing more to add to that other than the fact that now, I want to rewatch TKB 2 just to hear him sing, so I'll probably do that when I'm done with this. For now, let's move on to one more MVP look.

Look at those beautiful eyes and that soft expression. I would honestly pass out if he looks at me like this.

Anyway, moving on....

As I stated in the previous lookbook, something about Taylor in dark outfits gives me the butterflies. Like I love him in other colors, but something about him in dark colors just ups the whole fashion experience for me. In this look, he is wearing a black inner tank top underneath a black shirt with green accents and jeans paired with his signature accessories.

Another super casual everyday outfit one can wear for a night out with friends at the arcade where you play and dance to your heart's content. Or like Marco and Elle, doing dance rehearsals for an upcoming tournament. Again, casual and practical all in one.

I would like to add that after their rehearsal, he and Elle rides on the ferris wheel and then sits by the sand on the beach. At the beach scene, Marco puts on a jungle green jacket and I think that is a practical choice because it might be cold where they're at, considering they're by Santa Monica Pier. A little bit of a sea breeze could fill the air with a little chill, so it's always good to have a jacket on hand.

That is it for the looks of MVP himself. He has so many looks in both TKB 2 and 3 and most of them are the definition of casual and practical and I love that.

Now, let's play some e-sports at the fictional Barrett University from "1Up". Pick your team though, either the Barrett Betas or the Barrett 8-Bits..

Barrett University Betas Gamer Boy Dustin

Before I proceed to comment on a couple of Dustin's looks, I would just like to say that I dislike Taylor's character here because I do not agree with his POVs, but I can't deny Dustin's charm. Amid opposing POVs, I like to admit that his charm is something I'm not immune to. To put it simply, I dislike his sexist opinions in the movie, but I can't deny he's a charming douche, so there you go.

Why so serious, Dustin? Afraid to lose to a bunch of gals? LOL.

The Beta gaming jersey is the outfit he mostly wears in the movie. Like a golden-yellow Beta gaming uniform paired with joggers and rubber shoes is the perfect gaming outfit. The outfit plus the headphones is really giving gamer vibes, which is what Dustin is so there's nothing more to say about that.

Gaming is not my thing but from what I've watched, I think that a gaming jersey plus joggers is the go-to combo of every gamer out there so there you go. Maybe with the accuracy of the gaming outfit, the costume department definitely hit the spot.

This outfit is sponsored by Puma.....(I'm just kidding!)

Knowing that this part of the movie takes place in the winter, having Dustin in a navy blue jacket Puma jacket with green accents over a dark blue inner shirt was a good move. It's a simple look that is enough to protect you from the chill of winter.

The sword was just an added bonus and its one job was to simply further my wishes of having Taylor in an action movie or fantasy story with sword-fighting but I'm gonna leave you with that. I'm actually manifesting it to come true but no rush here.

That's it for our gamer boy Dustin. Not a lot of looks to comment on, mainly because he mostly wears his yellow gaming jersey so there's that aspect to it, but hey, you take what you get.

With that, let's go back to the 70s and meet up with a certain firefighter that goes by the name of Shane Brody.

The 70s Firefighter Shane Brody

For Shane, it'll only be a couple of looks again because I don't want explicit content on my blog, okay? I would also like to preface that at the time I'm writing this, I haven't seen Minx. I have my reasons of holding off on watching the series but I did find a couple of looks that I want to include in this so here you go.

Shane may be the hottest firefighter I have ever seen. He's supposed to put out fires but why does it seem like he's adding fuel to the flame?

Let's move on before I ramble something else...

What do I comment about a firefighter outfit from the 70s? Maybe at the time, it was practical and it seemed easy to layer protective gear over it. Again, Taylor with the dark colors, that's an automatic plus in my book.

He could model a standard firefighter outfit and people would buy them just because he's the model, I'm not even kidding.

I could not say anymore than that.

Before commenting on the overall outfit (at least what's visible to me from this picture), I would like to comment that his hairstyle in this series reminds me of Vision's hair in WandaVision episode 3. Oddly enough, that episode took place in the 70s so I guess having long hair for men was a thing in the 70s. I honestly have no idea.

Another similarity that I found between Shane's look here and most of Vision's look in the said episode of WandaVision is the long collar on the shirts. Again, I guess it was a thing in the 70s. So historically, I guess it's accurate.

I also love the mix of blues in Shane's shirt in the photo. Like the combo of a light blue collar and the darker blue shirt is a good contrast to my eyes. Very appealing, as it were. A mix of dark and light, which is always good to see.

No Further Comments..

That's it for the lookbook of Taylor Zakhar Perez's characters [so far]. I did not include all of his characters, as you can see. This is as long as a novella already and I did not want to lengthen it further as I do not want to bore you guys.

For sure, Taylor will play a lot more characters in the upcoming years. One thought that occurred to me as I was writing this TZP character lookbook was if Taylor himself has a say on the outfit choices of his characters, considering that fashion sustainability is very important to him. Guess I'll never know.

Writing this 2-part lookbook commentary is tiring but fun. It gave my inner fashion enthusiast a reason to come out and give opinions about the looks of one of my most favorite people in the world. I may have sounded redundant in some comments but hey, you take what you get from me.

Feel free to share with me your favorite looks from Taylor's characters or from Taylor himself if you wish to. To be honest, when it comes to the outfits of Taylor's characters and his outfits in general, I can't really say much because he makes everything look so good. That's just how he is and I can't do anything about it.

I'll end the lookbook here. Congratulations if you've read until the end since it's a lengthy one. All my love! 💙✌️

[cricketnationrise]

time: 1.31am (the time my dog woke me up today by jumping in my bed😅), location: Kensington palace , character: David and Alex please 🙏🏾 🐶, song lyric for vibes, discard if you don't like: "feels so good to be alive" 🌅 (from Beyonce's Be Alive Oscar performance 🎾💚🌻)

my ao3 is this same name but with underscores (the_marathon_continues )

no pressure if you can't get to this I'm sure you're inundated with requests!

*mushu voice* I LIVE hello i am in a two week lull of normal work hours so i have both time and brain space after a freaking month to write more and your prompt was the next at bat! i hadn't seen the oscars performance so that was cool to look up and see. i hope you love this little moment with my favorite boy. and alex.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

1:31am, kensington

Henry’s stuck at some royal event, one that Alex wasn’t invited to attend, and Alex is fucking bored. He can’t sit still enough to watch something, there’s no chores to do since he’s stuck in Kensington waiting for Henry to come back, and he doesn’t have any schoolwork for once. And yes, it’s after one in the morning, but he certainly isn’t sleeping. It’s only when David pads into the monstrosity that is Henry’s gilded bedroom, that Alex’s brain lights up with glee.

A quick rummage through Henry’s closet (oh, the irony) and a text conference with Bea, Nora, and June, and Alex has a plan. David’s a good sport through all of the outfits Alex puts him in, placidly allowing the infringement upon his dignity and obligingly staying still for the camera. 

He starts with a black bow tie collar Henry had lying around and fashions two shirt cuffs out of an old white shirt of Henry’s to go around David’s front legs. A strategically placed pistol emoji on the most debonair picture of David and the tribute to Arthur as James Bond is sent off to the group chat. That one’s just for the family's eyes.

Alex finds giant sparkly sunglasses shaped like flowers (left behind by Pez, surely) and slaps a super bright filter on top. He posts it to Instagram with the caption Elton Paws. He spends way too long making a black vest, white shirt, and black belt for David, wanting to get as close to the iconic look as possible. David’s unimpressed face looks out from the photo with the caption I’ve got a bad feeling about this. A cardigan from one of Bea’s old dolls and David’s own booties for cold days sitting next to him complete the Mr. Rogers costume. Please won’t you be my neighbor? With a fit of giggles, he removes the booties from the shot, adds the tiny crown Henry pretends he didn’t buy for his dog and takes another photo. He adds a photo of Henry in a similar cardigan as the second photo. The third photo on the post is just the meme from The Office where Pam says ‘they’re the same picture.’” Alex spends another ten minutes color washing a normal picture of David with bright purple, solely so he can make a Courage the Cowardly Dog joke.

He doesn’t bother checking any of the comments, fuck if people think he’s being ridiculous. Alex built this life; he’s found his person (and his dog). He managed to create something beautiful for himself all on his own, despite being thrust into the public eye. He and Henry came out the other side of the leak with their relationship and futures intact and shining brighter than ever. They’ve spent long enough putting on their best faces in public—it’s about time people remembered that he’s twenty-fucking-three. If he can’t dress his dog up in ridiculous costumes and post them on the internet like everyone else on the fucking planet, then what is the world coming to?

And alex is so fucking proud of his life, both separate and intertwined with Henry’s. They can weather any storm and forget anyone who says their relationship isn’t what love looks like. Someday, they won’t have to split their lives over two continents. Someday, it’ll be a given, an if/then statement: If Henry, then Alex. They’ve been fighting for something resembling normalcy since way before the emails leaked. They’ve dealt with depression and being outed, with a long-awaited ADHD diagnosis and the pressures of their families and countries. They’ve hustled and worked and bent over backwards for the public for years. If the general population has a problem with them occasionally being ridiculous about their pet? Fuck ‘em.

It feels amazing to be goofy, to act like the young adult he is, to not run every single tidbit by a publicist or handler, to do something dumb with his dog because he misses his boyfriend. So Alex will keep on dressing David up in whatever strikes his fancy and posting the results. If nothing else, Henry will love the results.

an instagram post: 

[pic of david in a ridiculous costume, alex beaming with tongue out and peace signs while he holds david up for a selfie]  when dad is away, we will play.

[mdnghtfae]

reciprocation

characters: malleus x gn reader, brief mentions of heartslabyul dorm members and diasomnia dorm members wc: 2.1k warnings: none i think a/n: this is for @humbuns malleus event 🥹 this is such a cute event thank you for having it; loosely inspired by the song if you let me, by alina baraz

don’t keep your feelings to yourself if you let me i’ll treasure all the things you tell if you let me, if you let me

It wasn’t very often that people outside of Diasomnia wished him a happy birthday; in fact, it wasn’t often that anyone outside of his inner circle spoke to him, if not for common courtesy.

As he grew older, his disdain for his birthday also grew, and while Lilia attempted to celebrate every year, Malleus usually opposed such parties. However, ever since he began attending Night Raven College, his birthday has become…tolerable, at best. And after meeting you, it seems his birthday this year is on it’s way to being the best one he’s had since he was a young fae.

The day started as any other, he attended his classes, had lunch with his fellow dorm members, unsuspecting of any surprise party that may be held in his honor. Of course, you were invited. Actually, you’re the one that had come up with the idea.

You had walked up to Lilia about a week before Malleus’ birthday, telling him that you wanted to do something for Malleus. He apologetically tells you that the dragon fae isn’t exactly fond of these parties, as people only show up due to his royal status and not because they genuinely want to be there-of course, except the Diasomnia students…and now, you.

Lilia gives your arm a squeeze to comfort you, at least for the disappointment in being told to not plan anything for Malleus. If anything, you could always ask Malleus to meet you somewhere one on one. But you’re stubborn if anything else, and are determined to plan somewhat of a decent party for him…at least with his close circle as guests.

And so throughout the week, and with the help of others, you were able to put together a decent party. Cater helped with the set up, Trey came through with a birthday cake, and you were able to force Ace and Deuce to basically help with everything else. If you had asked Azul and the Leech twins for help, god knows what you would’ve owed in return. So Ace and Deuce had to suffice…and Grim.

And now, the day of Malleus’ birthday, you’re trying to decide if giving him two gifts is overdoing it. It’s not like the gifts are a big deal, you can’t exactly give him anything pricey and luxurious, so you hope the tamagotchi style game is enough. Your eyes slide over to the small, potted gardenias on your nightstand. Is it too much?

You huff out an exasperated sigh, cracking your knuckles as you stare back and forth between both gifts. Are the flowers too much? Forget that, is the message too much? You’re almost sure that Malleus has feelings for you, at least, that’s what you think based on his behavior around you . Any guy could walk you back to your dorm, but no guy stalls the way he does, hoping to keep you at his side just a little longer.

His gaze always lingers longer than publicly appropriate, and he finds the oddest excuses to see you, as opposed to asking his dorm members for help. He quite literally goes out of his way to be around you, and yet you wonder that if you show him how you feel, he’ll reject you. That is, he has to know the meaning behind white gardenias first. If he doesn’t, then you can just come up with any excuse as to why you’re giving him flowers.

You put both gifts into a gift bag, adding tissue paper to make the gift presentable and head into the lounge, where Malleus’ close friends are already gathered. Cater walks up to you, and while he’s not Malleus’ close friend, he is yours, which warrants an invite.

“I’ll take that,” Cater says as he reaches out to swipe the gift in your hand.

You take a step back, smile on your face as you shake your head. “No you won’t, because I’m giving Malleus the gift-personally.”

Cater holds his hands up in faux surrender as he steps back, a knowing smile on his face, which does little to ease your nerves.

Sebek begins to yell, startling you. “Everyone! Lilia is on his way with Malleus! Get in positions!!”

Now usually, you’d say something snarky in return because someone needs to get him off his high-horse, but you choose to ignore that urge today; you’re far too nervous to do anything except mull over what you’ll say to Malleus.

Everyone begins to hide as the lights are turned off, your knuckles probably turning white as you hold onto the gift tightly in your crouched position behind the couch. Suddenly, your breathing is too loud and the lounge is too cramped. All too soon you hear muffled voices coming from outside, which become clearer as Lilia lets Malleus in.

“Lilia, why are we entering the dorm without being permitted entrance? You’re not one to let yourself in.”

All Lilia offers in return is a smile as he leads Malleus out of the entry hall and into the lounge. Someone in the room flicks the lights on and everyone takes it as their cue to jump out of their hiding spots. Confetti poppers pop and people cheer, a somewhat cohesive shout of Happy Birthday resounds as Malleus stands there in shock. He’s quick to compose himself as he thanks the guests, saving you for last.

He makes the rounds as swiftly as possible, pulling you aside to a more secluded part of the room so he can speak to you in a semblance of privacy.

“Did you do this for me, child of man?”

You nod, gift still clutched in your grasp. “I did. Well, it wasn’t just me. I had help.”

He quirks an eyebrow, “but you planned this, yes?”

You nod again. “Yeah…and before you get upset or anything because I know how you feel about birthdays, I was hoping this would change your mind.” You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, nerves creeping in as he intently stares at you.

He peeks around you, eyeing the gift you have behind your back. “Is that for me?”

You hold it out in front of you, a hand underneath the bag to keep it from ripping-although it shouldn’t because you paid good money for a pretty bag that would hold the plant. “I was hoping I could give it to you privately.” You desperately hope you’re not blushing, especially because you haven’t given him the gift yet.

With the commotion of the party, you both are able to slip out of the dorm easily, walking along the path you two usually take during your nightly strolls. Once you spot a bench, you motion in it’s direction, leading the way to it soon after.

It’s a pleasant evening, the weather isn’t too cool nor too warm, and yet you’re sweating. Were you really this nervous? Malleus waits for you to take a seat first before sitting down himself and turns his body so that he’s facing you.

Shakily, you hand him the gift with both hands. Malleus’ left hand brushes against yours as he replaces your careful hold on the bag. As your hands touch, you flit your gaze toward his to catch his reaction and are rewarded with nothing but a slight grin. He usually wears his heart on his sleeve; when he’s mad he resolves to using magic instead of talking out his problems, and when he’s sad, he sulks and claims he’s not upset.

But around you, he’s hard to read. Or maybe you’re just incredibly oblivious. Malleus continues to stare at you intently, waiting patiently for you to say something, only for it to take you a few seconds to realize you hadn’t pulled your hands away. Malleus’ hands gently hover over yours, a warm look in his eyes as he waits. You blink, startled, as you pull your hands away. “Sorry.”

Malleus shakes his head, a fond smile gracing his features. “You need not apologize.”

It’s your turn to sit patiently as you wait for him to open the bag. And so he does. He takes in a deep breath as he pulls out the handheld game, eyes widening, lips parting in surprise.

You lean slightly forward, waiting for him to say something. He smiles, sharp canines on display as his grin grows wider. “My companion will no longer feel lonely, thanks to you.” He sets it down in his lap, carefully, then takes out the potted flowers. Holding it up in the palm of a hand, he tilts his head slightly to the left.

You suck your bottom lip between ur teeth, worried he won’t understand the underlying message you’re trying to get across. “Do they not have gardenias in Briar Valley?” Your voice comes out strained, not realizing you’ve been holding your breath as you wait for his reaction.

“If we do, I have never seen such flowers. They are quite fragrant.” He says softly after smelling the gardenias. “And beautiful. They’re much like yourself.”

You sit up straighter, not expecting such an outright compliment. “Oh…thank you.” You give him a tight lipped smile as you continue to wait on his response. He’s quick to notice your expecting something.

“Am I missing something, child of man?”

You twiddle your thumbs as you debate on whether or not you should tell him about the meaning behind the flowers. “Do you…do you know the meaning behind these flowers, Malleus?”

He smiles upon hearing you speak his name; there’s no other sound he’s most fond of except for your voice. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well,” you start as you fidget in your spot, trying to find a comfortable position, “these flowers are- they mean-“ you breathe out a sigh, not sure how you should say this. “The flowers are meant to show that someone has feelings for you…like a secret crush.”

He ponders this for a moment, gaze shifting from the flowers toward you. “There are many things one could feel for another. Do you mean platonic feelings?”

You want to scream, really. He’s dragging this out and honestly it could be for his own amusement. He could be fighting to suppress a sly grin, feigning naivety. You shake your head, not trusting your voice.

He pushes forward. “Then?” He tilts his head to the left again, studying you. “What kind of feelings, child of man?”

You inhale, and on your exhale you rush out the word romantic. He carefully puts the gifts in the bag and sets it aside, inching closer. The old bench creaks as he shifts his weight. You hadn’t realized it had darkened, but as he moves closer you can see the moon’s light reflecting off Malleus’ horns. He tucks a few strands of your hair behind your ear, his hand then cupping your cheek as a knowing smile finds its way across his lips. Despite his cold demeanor, his hands are warm, and you find yourself moving closer to him.

“Shall I take this as a confession?” His breath fans across your cheeks as he leans closer, his personal space becoming yours.

Your breath hitches as you try to find the words to answer him. “If you want it to be.”

He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up so he can meet your gaze. “Is that what you want it to be?” You both are talking barely above a whisper, too afraid to disrupt the peaceful silence that had descended, save for a few crickets.

You barely nod and are sure he doesn’t notice, but he does. Malleus knows a lot about you-more than you probably think. Most believe him to be somewhat aloof, but he’s very observant when he wants to be.

One hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you close. You’re expecting a hug, until you feel his lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead while his other arm wraps around you. “I was hesitant about this birthday, not expecting much.” He admits as he speaks into the air behind you, your upper body still pressed against his. He pulls back so he can look at you, arms dropping to take both your hands in his. “You have proven that I can enjoy birthdays and that certain gifts can make one incredibly happy. You have changed my mind.”

You smile. It’s more relaxed this time, the nerves you felt a few moments ago having dissipated. “So, you liked the gift then?”

He nods approvingly. “It is the best gift I have had the pleasure of receiving.”

“Which of the two?” You ask.

His smile only grows wider, and you’re proud at the fact that he hasn’t stopped smiling this entire time.

“You.”

[angelqinladsfandomaccount]

Fated Council Meeting

Author: @angelqinladsfandomaccount

Imagine: An AU where MC is actually a Princess. In this AU, the guys come into her life roughly about the same time and for different(ish) reasons. This isn’t a story per say, but more like a collection of one shots/drabbles all taking place in this AU I have created in my head. I just wanted to share with the community for those interested! :) 

Pairing: All LADS men x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, violence, mentions or rape/torture, mature themes (MDNI), mentions of weapons/wounds/blood

Word Count: 2962

The LADS AU Collections

I own no rights to the Love and Deepspace characters.  

Author’s Notes

Not everything mentioned in the AU will be cannon. Just something for me to write about/occupy my time with :) 

Not every part posted will be in chronological order. I’m just writing as I have inspiration for the AU

Some important notes about the Princess: she is an artist/can draw; she has dreams of her past/future lives with the LADS men; just like in LADS, the Princess is a little bit of a bad ass and takes no shit; and lastly…her evol in the AU is one I’ve made myself…I’m calling it a “chameleon evol” but she can replicate/mimic/use any evol she resonates with….

The man with white hair had red eyes that glimmered with mischief as he glanced at the man with blue and pink eyes and purple hair seated next to him on his right before he smirked at the silver haired man seated to the left of him. The three men happened to be seated next to each other as they listened to the mumbled conversations of the council gathering in the throne room of the King. Each of them had been invited here by the King for various reasons: Sylus had been invited to fill the vacant spot on the King’s council; Rafayel was invited by the King to be the Princess’ new personal guard; and Xavier was here under his father’s wishes for him to be the Princess’ suitor in marriage.

The King, a young man with golden blond hair and sea blue eyes, sat on the throne in the center of the dais at the far end of the room. A large bay of windows allowed those in the throne room to witness the dazzling waterfalls flow from the cliffs behind the castle to the endless ocean below. Seated next to the King was the King’s younger brother, Prince Lucius, who sat in stark contrast to the young King. The ink black hair of the young Prince made the emerald green of his eyes shine brightly as he looked at the gathered men in the room with boredom. A mask hiding most of the Prince’s and King’s face and the crowns upon their heads were the only similarities between the two royal family members and the only things declaring them part of the royal family. A middle-aged man with graying hair cleared his throat as he approached the center of the throne room and the mumbled conversations in the room ceased. 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” The older man spoke in a formal tone. “I am Prime Minister Simoni, and I am pleased to be addressing our beloved King Camillus and the council seated before me.” The man’s face held no emotion as he turned to look at the King seated on the throne. “The first order of business to address during this council meeting is the discussion of the appointment of the Princess’ most recent suitor--”

The doors to the throne room violently opening as a young woman with rose red hair tied back into a ponytail walked into the throne room as she dragged a limp body behind her. The rose gold mask on her face hid the lower half of her face, but her chocolate brown eyes stared straight at the King seated on the throne with defiance as the man she dragged by the collar groaned weakly. Every head in the room turned to look at the sudden interruption, and the three men’s eyes widened as they looked at the woman who came to stand a short distance away from the Prime Minister.

“You mean the rapist, sadist, and murderer you tried to set the Princess to marry?” The woman’s voice was even, but her tone slightly betrayed the anger that she felt as the man groaned as she threw him at the feet of the Prime Minister. The man coughed and gripped his left shoulder as blood stained the white shirt he was wearing.

All three men--Sylus, Rafayel, and Xavier--sucked in a breath as they stared at the woman who stood with her head held high before the King and the council. The Princess looked and sounded like her, and the hearts in the center of each of their chests began to quicken pace as they watched the scene before them unfold as the Princess threw a book she had been holding in her other hand at the stairs of the throne.

“Before you, my King, is evidence gathered from the manor of Lord Gaston. Within its pages you will find handwritten notes detailing the twisted fantasies of how the Lord plans to rape, torture, and eventually kill me.” The Prince rises from his seat and walks to pick up the book from the stairs before he takes his seat and opens the book to look over the pages.

“Nonsense!” An older man from the other side of the room shouts as he stands up. “Everyone knows that the Princess has been vocal in her disdain for finding a suitor!” His words convey every ounce of distrust he has for the Princess and her accusations against the man groaning on the floor in front of the Prime Minister. The masked woman’s eyes cut to the man who openly speaks against her as she audaciously meets his gaze.

“Lord Merton,” The Princess addresses the man who spoke. “I understand your distrust of me in these accusations.” Silence greeted the Princess as the men in the room awaited what the woman would say next. “Allow me to bring forth more evidence to the council.” The Princess turned her head to look at the King, who slightly nodded his head at the Princess’ request.

“You may enter.” The Princess turned to look at the open doors of the throne room before several shy servants quietly shuffled into the room. “Before you are all servants of Lord Gaston, who have all personally witnessed or endured the cruel acts of the man himself.” The Princess walked over to the servants, who refused to look up at the sea of men around them, before she gently took the hand of the nearest servant--a ginger man with pale green eyes.

The servant looked up at her before he thickly swallowed and lifted his shirt to reveal several nasty scars littering his abdomen and back to the members of the council. A heavy silence hung in the room as each servant began to reveal their similar scars or opening their mouths to reveal their severed tongue. The three men looked around at the faces of the men around them to see how they were all reacting to this piece of evidence. Some of the men around them turned to look at the man lying on the floor with disgust; some of the men looked at the Princess with a sorrowful look; a few of the men still looked skeptical of the evidence presented before them.

Upon seeing the skeptical looks of some of the men in the council, the ginger haired man gestured to the Princess to cover her eyes. The Princess covered her eyes before the ginger man boldly stepped in front of her and stripped his pants off to reveal his severed penis to the council men. Surprised gasps left the lips of the men with skeptical looks as the ginger man covered himself back up and tapped the Princess on her shoulder, who uncovered her eyes and looked apologetically at the man. The Prime Minister’s face looked pale as he looked down at the man at his feet.

“Lord Gaston is a wolf wearing sheep’s clothing.” The Princess’ finger pointed at the man laying on the ground, who looked at her like he wanted to strange her. “A monster such as himself deserves no place beside the Princess, nor does he deserve the sweet taste of freedom.”

Sylus couldn’t help the smirk on his lips as he watched the Princess stare coldly back at the man. If the Princess was her reincarnated in this lifetime, then she was just as feisty as her previous self.

Rafayel, the man with blue and pink eyes, watched the woman attentively as his ears picked up on the steady beating of the heart in her chest. The familiar burning sensation of the bond mark over his heart confirmed that she had reincarnated as the audacious Princess standing in the throne room before him.

Xavier, the silver haired man, felt his heart race slightly in his chest as he was almost certain that the Princess was the woman he loved reincarnated before him. Curious, he secretly peered over at the other two men seated beside him, and found them both to be intently watching the Princess. For some unknown reason, Xavier felt a twinge of jealousy flow through his veins at this observation before as he turned his attention back to the Princess.

The man on the ground wickedly smiled at the Princess before he slowly lifted himself up to his knees. In the blink of an eye, Lord Gaston drew the sword from the Prime Minister’s waist and threw it at the Princess. The Princess almost escaped the sword as it buried itself into her shoulder, and chaos erupted in the throne room as guards rushed in to subdue the man who dared to harm the Princess. With a guard on each side, Lord Gaston smirked as the Princess gripped the sword sticking out of her shoulder, and the teal of the Princess’ dress turned a darker shade of blue as blood mixed with the fibers. 

The three men sitting nearby felt their blood boil as several scarlet drops fell on the floor from the Princess’ shoulder, but the woman straightened up and looked at the man who threw the sword with defiant eyes.

“Attempting to murder the Princess,” Her voice was strong as she slowly stalked towards the man who attempted to take her life, and all eyes watched as the Princess wrapped her delicate fingers around the hilt of the sword then pulled it out of her shoulder. “Is a treasonous act punishable by death. Isn’t that right, My King?” Pointing the sword at the man on his knees before her, the Princess did not look up to the blonde man seated upon the throne.

“Indeed.” The King finally said as he deep voice reverberated off the walls of the throne room. “Having witnessed the attempt myself, I permit the Princess to enact justice on her behalf.” With a flick of her wrist, the room fell into an eerie silence as the head of Lord Gaston slid from his body and rolled across the floor before stopping at the feet of the Prime Minister, whose face was pale as the blood seemed to drain from his face at the sight. 

“Perhaps,” The Princess stepped towards the Prime Minister and held out his sword to him. “Prime Minister, you should leave the chosing of a suitor to the Princess since you are incapable of chosing someone decent.” The older man visibly swallowed at the Princess’ words as the Princess held a hand to the wound on her shoulder; blood had begun to drip a small path on the floor from the harsh pulling of the sword from her body. The blonde man sitting on the throne cleared his throat before another young man briskly walked into the room. The newcomer in the room wore a stern expression on his face as his hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of wound on the Princess.

“You are wounded, Sister.” The King spoke as his eyes softened at the young woman. “Let Doctor Zayne tend to your wounds, and we shall discuss the topic of suitors at another time.” The young woman looked up at her older brother before she looked at the man who approached her. His dark hair fell slightly over his eyebrows as he noticed the blood slowly dripping on the ground below the Princess. “Alright.” The Princess said as her eyebrows furrowed slightly at the scowl on the doctor’s face. “Suitor discussion may be discussed later as you wish, Your Majesty.” The woman bowed respectfully to the blonde man seated upon the throne. “I will take my leave now to tend to my wounds.” With her final words, the Princess turned and followed the doctor out of the throne room.

After the ordeal Sylus witnessed, he knew that he had to get closer to the Princess to find out if his hunch about the young lady was right. Looking around the room at the sea of men who looked astonished by the events that had transpired in the throne room today, Sylus knew that he could easily convince the King to let him join the council. However, Sylus had another idea brewing inside his head--perhaps he could convince the King to let him be a personal guard for the Princess?

“Everyone is dismissed. The council meeting is abjorned.” The King’s authoritative tone echoed off the stone walls of the chamber, and several men stood before quickly taking their leave. However, the three men stood but made no move to vacate the throne room. King Camilus took notice of the three men who remained in the throne room, and the young man tried to hide the annoyance on his face.

“You three remain in the throne room after the King has dismissed everyone.” The King’s tone showed how tiresome the ordeal with the Princess had been on him. “Approach and tell me what business it is you wish to address with the King.”

The three men temporarily looked at each other as if realizing for the first time that they all had seemingly come to the council meeting with a purpose, but what the other’s purpose was had yet to be revealed to the others. Xavier was the first to step away from where he had been seated and approach the King. Deeply bowing, the silver-haired man felt his heart remain calm in his chest as he straightened his posture to look the King in his sea blue eyes.

“Greetings, King Camilus.” Xavier’s voice sounded foreign as it echoed off the chamber’s walls. “I am Prince Xavier of Philos, and I have been sent by my father to request the Princess’ hand in marriage.” Xavier’s voice is quiet and steady as he speaks before he realizes as his final words are spoken that now may not be the time to bring up such a matter. “I had no knowledge of the previous suitor before arriving today, and I apologize if now is not a good time to bring up such an issue.” The man with the silver hair and blue eyes bowed again, this time apologetically, before he dared to look back up to the King. “I am willing to come again and discuss this matter further.” A heavy sigh from the King greeted Xavier’s words as the King rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Indeed this is an inconvient time to bring forth such a discussion.” The King’s shoulders slumped slightly as he looked over the silver haired man in front of him. “Furthermore, this is a discussion best had in the presence of the Princess herself, so we will delay further discussion until she is well enough to take part in this.” Xavier nodded his head at the King’s words.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Xavier bowed respectfully to the King before he slowly turned and began to walk away as the man with purple hair approached the King then bowed.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Rafayel spoke in a somber tone as he straightened his posture. “King Camilus invited me here to become the personal guard of the Princess.” The sentence made Sylus’ eyebrow raise in curiosity as Xavier stopped in his tracks and turned around. “At first, I was going to refuse the summons and the offer; however, after seeing the Princess and what she went through today….” Rafayel dropped to one knee before the King and bowed his head as he placed his hand over his heart. “I accept the position and promise to protect the Princess with my life.”

One of the King’s eyebrows raised as the man kneeled before him, but the King said nothing as he nodded his head before he looked over to the man with white hair. The white haired man with ruby red eyes approached the King next as he respectfully bowed as he stood next to the man with purple hair.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.” Sylus’ deep voice smoothly carried itself through the room. “I was invited here to participate in your council and fill an empty seat. However, after today’s events, I would also like to offer my services to protect the Princess.” Following the example of Rafayel, Sylus dropped to one knee before the King and bowed his head while he placed a hand over his heart.

The King briefly exchanged a look with his younger brother before he stood up and approached the two men.

“Please rise.” The King gently said as he stood before the men. “From this moment forward, you two are the appointed personal guards of Princess [Y/N]. Protect her well, even if it means sacrificing yourself to ensure her safety.” Both of the men looked up at the King before they rose from their kneeling positions and bowed.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” With an approving nod of the King’s head, the two men turned and walked out of the throne room before turning to face each other with distrustful eyes. Xavier followed quietly behind them as he awkwardly stood there to witness the tension building between the two other men as they stared at each other. The white haired man stuck his hand out to the man with the purple hair.

“Sylus.” He said as he smirked at the other man. “And you are?”

“Rafayel.” The man with the purple hair said with a bored tone as he shook hands with Sylus.

“Pleasure to meet you. Hopefully we can get along since we are both going to be protecting the Princess.” A signature smirk rested on the lips of the man with ruby eyes as the cosmic eyes of Rafayel narrowed slightly.

“I hope you’re not going to be a pain in my ass.” Rafayel said as he eyed the whited haired man suspiciously, who scoffed at the threatening tone from Rafayel.

“Likewise.” Sylus said with a smile.

[heisendaddysimpswritings]

𝑩𝒆 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒚— 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

summary: your birthday came and your mother invited every lord to a party — including her arch nemesis heisenberg. but what she didn't know about was your growing interest for this mysterious man.

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pairing: Karl Heisenberg x fem!Dimitrescu!Reader

word count: 1361

tw: royal au

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It was a snowy winter evening, like so many have happened the days before. The lights in the village were dimmed, almost none of them existed at this time of day. Only in the big castle on top of a near mountain some lights still shone and that not without a reason.

The crying of a newborn echoed through the hallways. A new life saw the light of the day. It's name chosen from her mother was (name). She was later to be known as the fourth princess of the Dimitrescu family.

And this is the story about said girl. About her love for her family and her obedience towards her mother but also about the lust of a young woman and the desires she had. Only the gods know how her story will end.

....

"No not like that! The sigils have to be on the outside of the chairs!"

As you entered the big dining room you saw your mother, the current Lady of the Dimitrescu House, scolding one of her servants.

"(Name) my darling! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be up in your room with your maids trying on dresses?"

"We're finished already. I've chosen the red one."

And that wasn't a lie. In your whole 18 years of life you've never lied to your mother. Not even once. Not even a white lie.

"I'm glad you did! It's my personal favourite!"

You smiled, crossing your hands behind your back and walking up to her to inspect the table.

"Do we really have to hold a banquet for my birthday?"

"Of course we do have to! It's your 18th birthday after all! Everyone must see my now grown-up little (name)!"

You sighed and didn't say anything about it anymore. You knew your mother. She loved to celebrate herself and her family. Especially infront of the other Lords and their families. Especially infront of a certain family.

....

The evening came and so did your guests. One family after another arrived in Dimitrescu Castle, getting guided by servants into the dining room. There you and your family awaited the Lords' families, ready to greet them as soon as they set foot into the room.

First came the Beneviento family — the parents and her two daughters, Donna and Claudia. Your mother greeted them as if they were her own family. She often told you that the Dimitrescus and Benevientos were close with each other for decades.

After them the Moreau family with their son Salvatore. They and your mother had a relationship on buisness level, the greeting being more formal than the one before.

And as last did Lord Heisenberg. As always he was alone and came late to the celebration. Your mother despised him. For her he was the walking pest. "Man-thing" she'd always call him behind closed doors.

"Lord Heisenberg, I feared you wouldn't come anymore!"

"Initially I didn't want to but I just can't say no to a free meal with wine!"

His yellow eyes gazed over to your figure, you greeted him like all the others. He ignored this and proceeded to sit down at the table. Despite knowing he didn't, you felt like he never stopped fixating your body with his eyes.

The meal went on without any more comments of Lord Heisenberg, only your mother and the other families did small talk. Not even when your mother called out for a toast he said something, just raising his wine glass like everyone else did.

Despite wanting to he drew all your attention towards himself. You knew nothing about him. For you he was a big mystery, a man who didn't like to talk and even less about himself. You wondered how he was when he's all by himself. You wondered if he was like your mother or if he was different. You couldn't help but wonder so much about Lord Heisenberg.

The whole dinner got to much for you, you've never liked them and now even less. Even when it was over and everyone was just sitting at the table and talking you need a break. You need fresh air.

"Excuse me."

Wirhout explaining where you're heading to you stood up and left. Your mother followed your smale frame with a questioning look.

You went down the hallways until you finally reached your favorite spot — the balcony facing towards the village. You opened its doors and stepped out into the fresh evening air, goosebumps covering your skin and cheeks and nose turned into a rosy color. You rubbed your hands together and breathed onto them, hoping to get at least some warmth like that.

"I didn't think little miss (name) would flee onto a balcony."

You jumped and turned around, wondering who had caught you. Your eyes widened when you saw who was standing in the door frame.

"Lord Heisenberg, you scared me!"

He didn't say anything as he approached you, only a smirk plastered his face. He took place next to you, his back leaning against the railing, each of his elbows resting on it next to his, compared to yours, big frame. You turned towards him, leaning your hips against the cold stone.

"Why are you here lord?"

"I could ask you the same little miss."

You didn't know if you liked the nickname he gave you or not. He took a cigeratte and lit it, taking a pick huff from it.

"I needed to smoke. What's your excuse?"

You watched as he put the cigarette onto his lips, taking another huff from it. Your eyes wandered from his lips up to his scarred face, wondering how and why he got them. Wondering if it hurt much. Wondering if they still hurt.

"I just needed a break. I don't like those big gatherings."

Heisenberg laughed. You looked at him with a questioning expression, wondering what's so funny about your answer.

"As part of the Dimitrescu family I rather thought you're like the rest of them. More party-loving."

"I'm not. I'm rather by myself. In my room."

"You're one! A Dimitrescu who hates social gatherings and is introverted, something I thought I'll never see!"

He took a last huff of his cigarette before he rubbed its lit tip onto the stone and then threw it down the balcony.

Before you could even say anything or react he put one of your hair strands behind your ear, his gloved hand lightly touching your soft and cold skin, resting on it for a bit, his thumb grazing over it. You felt your face heat up, a blush crept onto your cheeks. Without any further words he let go of you and disappeared.

In shock of what happened you stood on the balcony for some more time until one of the servants found you and guided you to the entrance hall were your mother and sisters were saying good bye to the Lords, but one was missing. Lord Heisenberg already made his way home, not even saying goodbye to you.

Finally everyone was gone and you could slip into your nightgown, letting yourself fall onto your bed. As you sighed the memories of your interaction with Heisenberg. You again felt your face heat up and caught yourself thinking about things that could have happened instead of him just storming off. Unholy things that could have happened. You kicked your feet and put your hands over your face, trying to hide the deep red blush on the face as if someone would come in any moment.

You wanted to see him again. You needed to see him again. You needed to know more about him and why he did this. You just had to. But you knew it was nearly impossible. Your mother wouldn't let you go out of house, especially not if you told her you're going to visit her arch nemesis. Even less if she knew what he did, the only thing she'd do would be killing him with her own hands. You needed a plan. A plan to somehow sneak out and see him.

For the first time in your life you were dedicated to do something — even if it meant disobeying your mother.

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𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔

[anticomedygarden]

some people say they will never believe another promise they hear in the dark

Cash just got off a sudden eight hour flight. He is soaked and tired. Somehow, that isn't his biggest problem, but Shaan may have some comfort to offer.

(or that night at Kensington from Cash's perspective)

also posted on ao3

-

title from billy joel's 'an innocent man'

all of the dialogue between the beginning and them actually entering the palace is taken from the book, and because it is killing me not to properly cite it:

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: Collector's Edition: A Novel. St. Martin's Publishing Group, 2022.

-

As soon as they pulled up to Kensington, Cash and Alex stepped out of the car into a downpour, and Shaan, the bastard, was the only person standing in the way of the warm, dry palace. He, of course, had an umbrella.

"Mr. Claremont-Diaz," he said. "What a treat."

Predictably, Alex didn't waste any time on formalities. "Move, Shaan."

"Ms. Bankston called ahead to warn me that you were on the way." Of course she did, Cash thought. Thank God. "As you might have guessed by the ease with which you were able to get through our gates. We thought it best to let you kick up a fuss somewhere more private."

"Move." Again, with the patience.

Shaan smiled, and Cash really thought he might throttle him. Maybe he should be the next one on the eight hour flight into the pouring rain. "You're aware it's quite late, and it's well within my power to have security remove you. No member of the royal family has invited you into the palace."

"Bullshit," Alex said through his teeth. "I need to see Henry."

Cash prepared to be arrested and vowed to never, ever tell Zahra exactly what Alex said tonight.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. The prince does not wish to be disturbed.

"Goddammit Henry!" Even better, Alex started yelling directly up to what was presumably Henry's bedroom window. {"Henry, you motherfucker!"

Cash finally decided it was time to step in, not that it would help. "Alex."

He was ignored. "Henry, you piece of shit, get your ass down here!"

"You are making a scene." Shaan said, not looking all that put out.

"Yeah?" Alex said, not quieting at all despite Cash's concerns. "How 'bout I just keep yelling and we see which of the papers show up first!"

Zahra was going to have a heart attack (if Cash didn't first).

Alex turned back to the window and started flailing his arms, too. "Henry! Your Royal fucking Highness!"

Shaan touched a finger to his earpiece. "Team Bravo, we've got a situa-"

Just then, Henry appeared in the doorway, not looking much better than Cash felt right then. "For Christ's sake, Alex, what are you doing?"

Alex stopped moving, stopped yelling, finally, his mouth still open.

He dropped his arms. "Tell him to let me in."

Henry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's fine. He can come in."

"Thank you," he said, looking at Shaan just so he could have the last word, little shit. They all walked into the palace, Henry and Alex up a massive staircase and Cash following Shaan through the empty hallways, though the word empty was honestly generous. A better description might have been cavernous. At over 6 feet tall, Cash could stretch out both arms and not ever touch a wall, and, as a man who had personally experienced the opulence and greed of the American upper-class Republican party, he wondered why anyone would ever want that. He thought about Sir George Coppin and William III and Mary II and centuries of royals who had walked these walls and attempted to feel a lick of guilt about the mud and rainwater he was tracking through them. Oh, well.

After passing half a dozen nearly identical doors, Shaan finally led them into one that was, upon further inspection, a small kitchen. A marble top island sat in the center of the room surrounded by stools with a large black fridge, oven, sink, and counter to the right. Cash was a bit surprised by how modern it looked, though he wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting. A brick oven set over a fireplace, maybe? A giant portrait of King George III? Really, he didn't know.

"You can sit down, if you'd like," Shaan said, already taking a place at the kitchen island. Cash pulled out a stool and sat down heavily across from him.

"You think they're gonna work out whatever this is?" Cash asked, wincing when he heard a shout, probably from Alex. If anyone's lungs could transcend the distance from here to Henry's bedroom, it was Alex.

Across from him, Shaan sighed sadly, betraying more emotion in a single breath than Cash had ever seen from the man, and he began to wonder if the last ten minutes were simply for show. "It may not matter if they do."

It was, Cash knew, the truth, no matter how much he wished it weren't. "I've never seen him so happy," he noted.

He knew it was incredibly cliché, but it was the truth. The kid had always been excited, maybe a little too excited, actually, but since things with Henry had gotten...important, so to speak, he'd been happy. Really happy. Not that he wasn't before, exactly, but, honestly?...He really wasn't.

Before, happy wasn't something Alex always had time for. Now, somehow between the DNC, classes, fundraisers, and media appearances, Alex had started making time for happy, and that happy came in the form of Henry. Prince Henry of Wales.

Cash knew exactly what would happen if that suddenly went away. Alex would run himself right into the ground.

When Shaan turned his shadowed face to Cash, he knew the other man was thinking the same thing. "For Henry as well." He paused, a pained look crossing his face. "I am afraid that no matter the outcome of tonight, the fallout will be devastating."

Cash couldn't help but agree.

They lapsed into silence, at least until Alex's voice speared into the room. "-fucking love you, okay?"

Groaning, Cash said, "I'm so sorry."

Shaan waved him away. "Don't worry about it. No one else in the palace should be able to hear them." Something appeared to dawn on him. "Although, Philip and Martha are here, so we can't allow them to get too loud." At Cash's uneasy look, Shaan said, "They're staying on the other side of the palace. I wouldn't be too worried."

Cash nodded. "That's good."

A couple more minutes of tense silence later, Shaan said, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Coffee, if you have it." Shaan looked at him oddly. "If this turns ugly, I should probably be awake for it."

He didn't know what he was more worried about: the fight turning violent (unlikely), or Alex and Henry waking up Philip, and that encounter turning violent (much more likely).

Shaan nodded in understanding and turned the coffee maker on. "How do you take it?"

"Black."

For a while, the only noise was the sound of the coffee maker working, leaving Cash to wonder how the fuck he was gonna explain this all to Zahra. Maybe, if they didn't break up and Alex came out the other side relatively unscathed, Cash could make him explain it all with very little remorse. If they didn't, well...Zahra may not be the biggest problem.

To Cash's surprise, the next voice was unmistakably Henry's.

"I don't want it!" He couldn't imagine what that was about, and he really didn't want to know. There were more shouts, but Cash couldn't make them out.

"Didn't know he could get that loud," he said instead.

Shaan sighed again and set a mug down in front of him. "Alex seems to bring it out in him."

Cash snorted and took a sip of coffee, reveling in the bitter taste as he felt the warmth seep into his bones and wake him back up. "He brings it out in everybody."

There was a lull in the shouts, and Cash hoped they might be winding down, but of course Alex started up again.

Thankfully, they didn't last as long this time, tapering off into angry hisses, until there was a sudden thud noise.

Cash was already halfway to the door before he registered the other noises being made: a groan, some stumbling, and the vivid sound of bed springs.

Shawn stood then, obviously eager to not hear them anymore. "Let me show you where you'll be staying tonight."

Cash nodded. "That sounds great," he said, a bit too loud, for now there was the horrifying sound of quiet crying and far more vibrant moans.

Quickly, Shaan led him down even more identical hallways - he couldn't get out of this place if he tried - and eventually landed on a dark wooden door indistinguishable from the ones next to it. Blessedly, he couldn't hear the boys anymore.

"I'll come get you in the morning provided your charge doesn't decide to leave before then." Shaan's voice had gone flat again, but Cash thought he saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "If you need anything, you have my number."

"Thanks," Cash said, the for not telling anyone higher up about this, hanging between them.

Shaan's mouth quirked up in a half smile, and he turned to go. "Of course."

Watching Shaan disappear down the immense hallway, Cash sincerely hoped they could find a way out of this mess without complete devastation, but he knew it wasn't likely.

Maybe, though, they could at least make sure they got through it alive.

[blogparanormal]

Paranormal (Data Dump) 3B

* One night after a cruise to the Bahamas, I searched for pictures of George Washington. I wanted to make a poster to hang up on my wall. The poster represents taking initiatives. I took the initiative to write this book and I wanted more motivation. So I made this poster. I invited George Washington or any other spirits to come into my room as I sat on my bed. Within seconds I saw a ghost uniform. It looked as if it was on a manikin because I saw no human body or head. What impressed me was the detail of the uniform. It was olive green and had tons of decorative stuff all over it. The shoulder tops had a gold rectangle with the decorative frayed string things, which you should remember as epaulettes. It had decorative patches and medals attached on the front uniform jacket. However I do not remember the shapes of them that well. Within about 10 seconds the uniform vanished.

* On 8/18/18 before my UFO Sighting, I saw multiple ghosts. As a part of my in-depth research I continue to conduct field tests to try to understand ghosts, spirits, and the dead. I am fascinated by this subject so it makes allot of sense to take the initiative to try to find out answers even if it results in more questions than answers. I invited the spirits to go on a walk with me like I usually do and proceeded with our walk. I saw ghost human shaped entities. I saw a white one, a light gray smoke colored one, a dark gray almost black one, a royal blue one, and a ginger-ale colored one. The white was on the road on the cul-de-sac. The light gray smoke one I saw in a person’s empty driveway. The blue one I saw next in a person’s drive way on a different road. On this same road I saw the ginger-ale colored one stand on the grass as I walked passed it. The only ghost I saw move was the last one. The dark gray almost black ghost was at the circle at the end of the street there was not a dead end road. It floated past me faster than I could walk. It appeared at the circle then glided to the other side of the road and disappeared. I walked another lap before having my UFO sighting.

I am sure there will be skeptics in my future that will criticize because it always seems like skeptics are flapping their gums saying ridiculous things like “I don’t believe in it so that must not make it true.” My grandmother told me that. In this case my grandmother is the skeptic not making any sense to me.

* One of the best sightings I had was when I was walking on the boardwalk right in front of the ice cream stand walking to the north. The weather was cloudy then turned to drizzle. I would say that this object was 2 ½ feet at its widest width. It was shaped like↓

It was see through and rounded like a blown bubble. The most incredible thing was it actually had a red iridescence on the corner like a real soap bubble; however the object seemed structurally sound as it flew right over me on the boardwalk. Next it flew at an incline over the roof of the condo south of the ice cream stand then disappeared. Immediately as this thing disappeared while the drizzle is wetting my face; two white orbs a little larger than base balls, more the size of softballs, flew the exact same flight pattern. The spheres looked like glass balls with white sparks inside. The orbs flew side by side as if they were attached to each other, but I could not see anything attached. I immediately remembered a “Blue Man Group” performance. I learned that human eyes can only pick up red, green, and blue spectrums of light. I wondered to myself if I saw a full single UFO and the other part of the UFO is in a spectrum of light that humans cannot perceive. Maybe it was two separate UFOs following a certain flight path. Then I remembered that everything I heard was silent from the UFOs, but I could hear droplets of rain on the boardwalk as I saw them. These things were odd to see under the clouds about only 10 feet above my head while standing on the board walk.

[seisoukan]

Wonderful Journey - Chapter 5

Translated by: @seisoukan

With thanks to my proofers: Vulpes

Season: Winter

Time: Several days later, the same day the commercial shoot ended successfully

Location: Karaoke Box

WATARU: — The kabe-don that Keito-kun did at the time looked so handsome, my heart just couldn’t help but beat faster~ It’s such a shame you all couldn’t see it for yourselves ♪

KEITO: Stop adding embellishments to the story, Hibiki. To me, it isn’t an experience I’d like to relive over and over again.

TOMOYA: Ahaha, don’t worry, Hasumi-senpai. I mean, I’ve made myself look like an idiot a bunch of times, so it’s not like I’m any better…

That’s why I’m telling you, Hibiki-senpai! You have to be a little more aware of the amount of problems you’re causing other people!

Eh? Why’re you apologizing for him, Anzu-senpai? You’re saying that because you also participated in the conception of the ‘Closeness UP Campaign’, you’re an accomplice?

No no no, we aren’t actually mad. Actually, we want to thank Anzu-senpai… and Hibiki-senpai, I guess.

WATARU: Tomoya-kun, you needn’t put special emphasis on the ‘guess’, you know…

KEITO: Hmph. You’ve been too reckless after all. You bastard.

Though I don’t know how you two thought up the idea of using shoujo manga tropes to raise the closeness between our members; to my surprise, you achieved your goal in the end.

Afterwards, we gradually developed a rapport, our subsequent rehearsals went smoother, and in the end, we were able to finish the commercial shoot without incident.

In any case, I still hope next time you’ll tell us before you two do something like this. That way, at the very least, we can be mentally prepared.

WATARU: Non~non! That wouldn’t be Amazing at all, wouldn't it? You should know, it’s unexpected situations that really stimulate the potential in someone!

To ensure that our strategy could properly move forward, I had to first inform Tomoya-kun of a portion of our plans for him to carry them out. That was the biggest concession I could make!

TOMOYA: You say that, but I was absolutely clueless for the most part…

SHU: … Right, enough chitter-chatter. Don’t forget today’s main objective.

Since you’ve also invited the little girl to the celebration party, I must take the opportunity to express my gratitude to her in person no matter what. Otherwise, I would never have willingly come to such a crowded and clamorous place.

Just listening to the constant background music playing in the room is making me feel a little overwhelmed.

WATARU: Oya? My sincerest apologies. I was too busy happily chatting with everyone. It’s my fault for being inconsiderate.

Then, allow us to change up the atmosphere! With a snap of my fingers ☆

TOMOYA: (… Wow, the dynamic electronic music instantly became a soothing and elegant piano tune.)

(Not only that, all the bright lights in the room went dim, and only the ceiling and the four surrounding walls are cast in glowing starbursts of silver. It’s almost like—)

WATARU: How about it, Anzu-san? Is this miniature starry sky to your liking?

However, now is far from the time to be astonished! For we shall offer to you even more Amazing things, one after the other ☆

Come, come, my dearest Royal Highness! The grand ball is about to start, so please put on this mask decorated with feathers of pure white… ☆

TOMOYA: Ah, just a sec, Anzu-senpai, don’t raise your head yet… Great, the handmade crown is the right size, too ♪

SHU: This is a handsewn cape made with fabric selected by yours truly. Try it on while you’re at it, little girl.

Hm, as I thought, that wine red color suits you.

TOMOYA: Haha, Anzu-senpai looks exactly like a shimmering, sparkling princess right now ♪

KEITO: Oi, you all forgot to explain yourselves before dressing Anzu up like this out of nowhere. She completely froze up.

… Tonight, Anzu, you are the protagonist of our celebration.

Not just for this time’s commercial shooting. All this time, you’ve done your utmost as a producer to advise and plan for us idols, rushing around.

The four of us had a private discussion, and each of us decided to prepare a gift for you today, so just accept it without any complaints.

Also, this is for you. It isn’t anything precious, so you should put it away quickly—

WATARU: Oya? Anzu-san is so happy, she hopped right out of her seat. I wonder what sort of goody that was ☆

TOMOYA: “Mizuhanome-sensei’s signature”…? Are you a fan of that artist’s work, Anzu-senpai?

Um, I can’t help but think this name sounds familiar. I might have heard of them before at the academy—

KEITO: … Cough, cough, then why have I never heard of them before? You must have confused them with someone else.

That being said, we’ve rented the karaoke box for a limited time. Shouldn’t we get started?

WATARU: Hahaha, your way of changing the subject is a little stiff Keito-kun, but I’ll listen to you this time around.

Actually, the reason we decided to hold the celebration party here, is because the four of us wish to express our heartfelt gratitude towards Anzu-san the way an idol knows best— That is, with our voices.

Then, please listen to our Amazing Ensemble… ♪

WATARU & TOMOYA: ♪ ♪ ♪~

KEITO & SHU: ♪~♪~♪

TOMOYA: Haha, Anzu-senpai seems to be having a good time listening. She’s shaking the maracas along with the music from time to time ♪

WATARU: However, that isn’t the end of it! The next session is the real surprise of today! Let us begin the ‘ES Idol Karaoke Imitation Show’ ☆

SHU: … What? I was never given word of such an arrangement!

WATARU: Certainly ♪ That’s because the idea just popped into my brain, so I did not anticipate it myself either!

TOMOYA: Ugh, by now, I’m so used to Hibiki-senpai’s impulsive style of acting, I can’t even be bothered to complain…

WATARU: Then, allow me to start everyone off! I am able to imitate anyone, so just designate someone at random, Anzu-san ☆

Oho, you’d like to see our fine’s Hime-kun, is it? Not a problem at all![1]

“Ehehe, the world’s cutest Himemiya Tori-sama is right here ♪”

“Leaping like a kitten, then spinning around~♪”

“How was that? I tried my best to perform fine’s representative song, so Anzu-san has to praise me as much as she wants~♪”

TOMOYA: Anzu-senpai! The person in front of you isn’t Himemiya, but Hibiki-senpai! Don’t unconsciously reach your hand out to pat his head!

WATARU: Fufufu, this just goes to show how close my imitation of Hime-kun is to the real thing ☆

And now, Keito-kun is next up! Anzu-san helped you get the signature of that mangaka you like, so in return, you should at least put on a good show, right?

See, Anzu-san is even looking at you expectantly ♪

KEITO: Why does Hibiki know about that? … Fine, Anzu. Whoever you’d like to see me imitate, I’ll give it an earnest attempt.

Fair warning though, don’t expect too much from my imitation skills.

… Um, Nito, is it? I should be able to remember a few of his catchphrases, more or less. Cough, cough… (clearing his throat)

“I… I’m everybody’s Nii~chan! If you’ve got any difficulties, just come and find your reliable Nii~chan!”

“Uunyah! I’m gonna get angwy!”

SHU: …

TOMOYA: Pfft… (holding back his laughter)

KEITO: Now, I’ll perform a Ra*bits song… If I remember correctly, when singing the part that goes ‘pyon pyon ♪’, you have to raise your hands above your head and pose them like twitching rabbit ears…?[2]

… Fine, since I’ve already gone all out, you lot can laugh it up.

WATARU: Fuhahahahaha ☆ I can scarcely believe Keito-kun’s imitation was so entertaining! My stomach hurts from laughing! I have to give you full marks, 100 points!

TOMOYA: Ha… Haha, I don’t even know what to say. This is so different from the Hasumi-senpai I know, I feel like I’m dreaming.

But you know, I can’t say it isn’t an unique type of ‘cute’, so I’m going to give Hasumi-senpai 80 points ♪

SHU: Your judgment criteria is far too loose. I’ll give him 10 points at most! You are entirely unable to imitate even a thousandth of the essence of Nito’s cuteness!

Though, since the little girl is laughing so happily… I shall add another 10 points.

After all, one of the reasons idols exist is to bring smiles to the people of the world. Among those people are the producer who has always been at our side, of course.

WATARU: Oya, oya, it’s rare for Shu to say such sentimental words. We’re all happy to be able to see Anzu-san display such a bright smile ♪

Right, since you’re not entirely satisfied with Keito-kun’s imitation, why don’t you, who has the deepest understanding of Little Rabbit-san by far, try your hand at imitating him, Shu?

SHU: Non! I refuse! I should not have come here today!

The following voice lines are played in Tori's voice.

It is unclear whether the song he is referring to is Melty♡Kitchen or Made in Tokimeki♪, as both songs have 'pyon pyon' in the lyrics.

Wonderful Journey - Masterlist

[moinecarft]

Dream came to on a boat, with him in the middle of a rowing motion. He stopped, staring down the faraway as he considered.

He listened for the sound of the sea, flexing his fingers as he felt the material of the oars, breathed in, and breathed out.

"So," He began, a multitude of ideas flashing through his head as the words danced upon his tongue. "wanna be a queen?"

"Fuck. Yes."

===

There was a bee.

Ranboo blinked, looking down at the singular bee that bobbed up and down in place.

With an envelope in its mouth.

There was a bee, a bee with an envelope, floating in front of him.

"Oh," It dropped the envelope into his hands and began floating away. "Uh, thank you?" He stared at it for a moment, before looking down at the envelope in his hands.

It was... surprisingly nice. There weren't any bite marks, despite being held in a bee's mouth, though it probably had to do with the faint purple glow he could see on it. An enchantment.

It smelled faintly of honey and made of smooth, pure white paper with elegantly drawn lines of- Ranboo lightly rubbed his finger on one of the lines and brought it to his lips, giving it a light lick- Glowstone Dust. With the core that held it together being a wax seal with a honeycomb symbol.

It looked- and felt- very... royal.

He glanced back up, looking to the sides in slight expectation to see the bee coming back and taking the envelope back because it got the wrong person, but when no such thing happened, he hesitantly opened it.

The smell of honey went from faint to abundant. He blinked, reaching inside and taking out the note and then staring blankly at the very elegant, very hard to read cursive staring back at him in what was no doubt written with honey on gold colored paper.

He silently placed it back in the envelope and closed it.

===

"Tubbo?"

"Yea Ranboo?"

"Do you know how to read very elegant cursive?"

Tubbo blinked, the hand currently signing away at papers stilled as he looked up at Ranboo, who fidgeted a bit under his stare, before nodding. "Oddly specific, but yes, I do."

Was he going to question how Ranboo got into his office suddenly? No, it's happened to many times for him to care anymore.

"Oh!" Ranboo clapped the tips of his fingers together. "Do you, uh, do have any time?"

Tubbo glanced down at the currently being signed stack of papers on his desk, and then up at Ranboo and then laid down his quill. He folded his hands on top of his desk and leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, actually."

Ranboo released a pleased hum as he reached into his inventory and handed Tubbo the envelope. Recognition flashed within Tubbo's as he took the note. "Oh, you got one as well?"

Ranboo blinked.

===

Tubbo nervously tugged at his tie, staring into the depths of the portal that almost looked like there was two instead of one.

Wearing a suit in nether probably wasn't his best idea, but he had bigger things to worry about.

He considered going back, for a moment. Not wanting to face how Tommy would react to his presence due to him being the one to make the final decision to have him exiled.

So he was scared, of the reaction of his friend (were they even friends?) would have as soon as he stepped upon the beach.

But then he also remembered how ignoring an invitation of a party held by another nation (he didn't even know where this one popped up from) would not give L'manburg the best political stance in case they ever needed to, say, ally and/or trade with said nation.

He let out a breath, and glanced at Ranboo, who seemed unaffected by the intense heat of the nether. Tubbo pulled a face. "How do you do that, big man?"

Ranboo turned his head towards Tubbo. "Do... what?"

"like," Tubbo gestured to Ranboo as a whole. "That."

Ranboo titled his head curiously. "You mean, me?" He pointed at himself.

"Wha- no," Tubbo dragged a hand down his face. "Just the- the heat, you know. How do you deal with it?"

"Oh!" Ranboo blinked, before waving his hand. "I just... do? I don't- I don't really, know...?"

"Oh, okay."

A moment.

"Shouldn't we be uh, you know?" Ranboo gestured at he portal. Tubbo, hesitantly, nodded and took a breath, lifting up his shoulders before dropping them with a sigh.

"Alright, lets do this." He stepped into the portal, feeling the familiar vibrations that came along with the usual nausea of portal travel, and soon enough, they stepped down onto the beach and were greeted by the salty sea breeze.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 2/5

Book Blurb: Love is in the heir in this royally good rom com debut releasing in Spring 2023 – perfect for anyone who likes relatable heroines (with great hair), hot and aloof book boyfriends, and near misses and almost kisses.

Despite living in an actual castle, happily ever after is evading Margaret ‘Maggie’ Moore.From her bedroom in the Tower of London, twenty-six-year-old Maggie has always dreamed of her own fairy-tale ending.Yet this is twenty-first century London, so instead of knights, she has Tinder, and instead of white horses, she has catfish. And with her last relationship ending in spectacular fashion, she swears off men for good.And then a chance encounter with Royal Guard Freddie forces Maggie to admit that she isn’t ready to give up on love just yet… But how do you catch the attention of someone who is trained to ignore all distractions?Can she snare that true love’s first kiss… or is she royally screwed?A right royal rom com, perfect for fans of Red, White and Royal Blue and The Royal We.

Review:

Margaret Moore lives in an actual castle but for some reason her happily ever after has eluded her. After breaking up with her ex after years of a terrible relationship, he now won’t leave her alone and visits her work trying to get her back. Did I mention she lives in the Tower of London? After a particularly bad run in with her ex she literally runs into a gorgeous guy... who just happens to b a Royal Guard. Maggie now can’t stop thinking about Freddie, the cute guard but he keeps giving her the hot and cold. One moment he’s inviting her to hang out the next he’s distant and hasn’t contacted her in months. Maggie wants her happily ever after so she starts going on Tinder and getting help from some very fun and sweet Royal Guards but for some reason she can’t keep away from Freddie. Yet when Freddie returns, he is pretty adamant that they are good friends... yet the more he draws her into his life the more she discovers that he has complicated secrets and that maybe they were just never meant to be. Unfortunately, despite how cute this sounded, it fell flat for me. The story felt bland and definitely needed a bit more. Maggie and Freddie didn’t really feel like they had any chemistry and Maggie’s entire personality consisted of either being clumsy, crunk, or embarrassed and awkward about standing up for herself. Honestly, the romance never felt there and I just didn’t find myself interested in any of the characters or the story. It felt Hallmark-esque, but without any of the fun. Despite how cute this could have been it just didn’t meet my expectations. Though this one didn’t work out for me, definitely give it a go if you are looking for some English romance with a castle, royal guard, and secret royalty.

***Spoiler: Freddie turns out to be a heir to a Duke... who just happens to also have a fiancee and he never told Maggie. Maggie confesses her feelings after finding all of this out and he tries to explain that he does love her but he is in an arranged marriage set up by his parents because thats all they want and Maggie doesn’t want to ruin his family relationship or reputation and says they have to end whatever was going on between them. Later on she runs into his fiancee who tells her he called off the engagement and stood up to his father and then maggie runs to him and they get together.***

*Thanks Netgalley and Avon Books UK, Avon for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[ingek73]

In Buckingham Palace and outside it, we know what it means when people ask ‘where are you from’

Kohinoor Sahota

When Susan Hussey asked that of a black British charity boss, she echoed the words of many who alienate people of colour

Wed 30 Nov 2022 18.22 GMT

Follow Kohinoor Sahota

Charity leader Ngozi Fulani, centre left, at Buckingham Palace

“Where are you from?” is a question that every person in my family has been asked, from my parents in the 1960s to my little nephew, crying on his way back from school. I’ve faced the question from schoolteachers who want to know if I speak English, dates trying to exoticise me – and a manager who laughed afterwards, knowing he should not have asked.

“Where are you really from?” is the follow-up, if you don’t give someone what they want. While the question can come from a place of curiosity, it is hard to ignore the sinister undertones, especially when it’s repeated.

So, when I read that Ngozi Fulani, the head of a domestic abuse charity, was questioned where she was from while in Buckingham Palace, I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me, however, is how it has become headline news and a sackable offence, as the honorary member of the royal household who asked the question has since apologised and resigned. Dear, oh dear.

Fulani’s story is every person of colour’s story. I wish I could say it’s unique. I wish I could say that nobody else has been asked such a thing. But that isn’t the case; if it seems unique it is simply because not all of the people of colour get the chance to tell their story. I have had my own day out at Buckingham Palace, and found it similarly unwelcoming.

The grandest invitation I ever received as a journalist was to attend an exhibition at the palace. It arrived in a small cream envelope, with my name – spelt correctly – in calligraphy.

Regardless of whether you’re a kid from a council estate like me, or a prime minister going to a weekly audience with the monarch, I imagine that everyone feels some sense of wonderment when they drive up the Mall. Fulani probably felt the same. In the palace, your eyes widen as you are blinded by the bling – there’s lots to take in, after all – with the sky-high ceiling, crystal chandeliers and that balcony.

‘In the palace, your eyes widen as you are blinded by the bling.’ Camilla, the Queen Consort gives a speech at Buckingham Palace. Photograph: Kirsty O’Connor/AFP/Getty Images

The crowd was all establishment figures in Savile Row-worthy suits and designer dresses: Tory politicians, mid-level royals, a David Attenborough here (talking in that wisdom-filled staccato tone), and a David Starkey there. There’s feeling out of place, but then, sure, there is this. Almost any person would feel some discomfort, but when you also realise that every single person in the room is oh-so white, darling, it’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world.

There were jokes about the “exotic” art in reference to the Asian pieces. Someone recognised one of their aristocratic ancestors in a portrait on display as if that were ordinary – it consolidated how somebody like me could never belong in the establishment.

The only person I saw all night that looked like me – aside from a glimpse of Patricia Scotland – was a single Asian man. We locked eyes and smiled at each other. I’m sure if we’d have spoken I’d have had more in common with him than anyone else at the party. But he was a waiter, and I was a guest. In that moment, you are reminded that it’s merely by an accident of birth – or, more accurately, the aftereffects of colonialism – that you’re on one side and they’re on the other.

It all reminded me of the pervasive feeling of not belonging. That is why “where are you from” is such a politically loaded question. The answer should be simple, but it is a way for people – white people – to rank you on the social ladder. I know what I am actually being asked: why is the colour of your skin different? Why are you brown? Why aren’t you white? Why are you here? Should you be here?

Since I am brown-skinned and Indian, time and time again I have to prove my Britishness. When people ask me where I’m from, saying “Oxford” never meets their expectations. I’ve had enough. If I don’t call out the question, I allow the problem to persist; if I do call out the question, I make white people uncomfortable.

The thing is, I’ve assimilated into their version of Britain, so it’s time for them to assimilate into mine and the “minority” version – a multicultural, truly British society. The face of Britain is changing. Whether you like it or not, there are more and more people who look like me. The British story is a multicultural story. Whether it’s Labour MP Robin Cook hailing curry as the national dish, the most diverse team making up the England football squad, and now the first British prime minister of colour being of Indian descent – we are part of the fabric of Britain.

But who gets the privilege of being labelled British has always been a controversial subject. Ever since Britain began its overseas expansion, people of colour have been made to feel like guests in our own home as well as our new home – welcomed with one hand and scolded with the other.

Working-class people of colour are unlikely to stumble upon people that share their melanin, let alone long-lost relatives on the walls of galleries, museums or Buckingham bloody Palace. So, let’s make everyone feel welcome.

It’s time to start asking new questions.

Kohinoor Sahota is an arts and culture journalist. She is working on a book titled Where Are You Really From?

[bradleymarshall]

I think I realised why Elaine hates Sri Lankans and Indians

She was raped by one

At 18

My dad also used to say to me

Don’t trust Sri Lankans cause they’re stingy and rip you off

I did a journal entry today and it was enlightening on myself and well my racism

To put harshly

Which is also directed at myself being Filipino

It’s like Tom holland in spiderman

Befriends a Filipino fat kid

He’s a loser by association

Imagine choosing a Filipino fat kid lmfao hahah

They did that intentionally in the movie to lower the perceived status of Tom holland in the movie

Clearly intentional

And regardless of him being fat

It’s a racism I need to overcome

Like how women only have attractive girls in their posse as it elevates their status

The person you associate with can either elevate your status or diminish it

But that’s only If you choose to care

That only shows your own insecurity and how easily manipulated you are by societies standards

I’m sure Xavier isn’t proud to say he befriended a gay man. But then again he may be only using me for my talent.

I’m no Achilles and you’re no Patroclus.

Like Zac Efron in the greatest showman refusing to hold Zendayas hand when at the royal ballet because of the class difference.

If it were Daniel, and him being a brown boy, I wouldn’t feel the least bit ashamed. I’d feel proud.

What’s the difference I wonder?

It’s no coincidence there’s barely any photos of us sadly.

I’ve always been a pretty horrible person.

Like that time I didn’t invite the fat white girl to my party because I wanted to look cool by association. First hand class act cunt.

I regret it to this day and yet those insidious tendrils of racism and classism and fat shaming still continue. Even for someone like me who suffered through years of eczema. It’s like, if 2020 me was standing in front of me and asked to be my friend, I wouldn’t want to be associated with even myself. What is wrong with me?

Am I that shattered in my own need to be “perfect” whatever that is, that I loose sight of all morals and decency.

And I’m not going to blame my parents and my mother for her overt racism to Asians, even to other Filipinos who aren’t from Suragao Del Sur. She criticises the northerners who speak Tagalog.

Something to think about.

I guess it’s no different when you hate being called Indian. Indians and Sri Lankans are racist to each other.

I was upset when you said everything is fine

Is it really fine?

Look how quickly I can change things. This is what I meant by careful. It’s only fine because I censor myself in my true honesty. This is a brutal post and it’s not even the worst one which I hid to myself, because I’m scathing in my words and I don’t even know why. Now I just feel horrible and so upset and guilty.

[rainbowrass]

I had a dream about Gdragon this night.

I dreamt that me and my mom (I'm 28)

Wen't to see Gdragon perform on stage.

It was weird because me and my mom has only traveled one time before together.

I was there hoping he would see me in the crowd because I have feelings for him... but I knew the chance were slim...I shifted between having good self confidence to thinking I wasn't better than anyone else.

Then all of a sudden he look at my direction as he was trying to take aim and throw something.

He threw a bicyckle wheel?! Towards my direction, it landed one step down from me, nobody took it...wich suprised me...I tought everyone would jump and grab it because GD had touched it but no...but then maby? I was atleast prepared to fight for it. I had to crawl under some metal bars in order to get it, when I got there there was more stuff laying near the bicyckle wheel so I tought it might had been atached to it, I think it was a journal.

I went and told my mom ...with my red cheeks that I tought he threw it towards me on purpouse because he either likes me or thinks I'm special.

Later on we were going to get autographs

For some reason I was standing there in nothing but a shirt and my underwear?? Completely oblivious that I was...I was waiting for my turn..but I think I stroke up a conversation..he was a bit ignorant...wich made me sad and confused since he had taken aim on me earlier as he threw that bicykle wheel and journal towards me...and then he was on his way away from there because the autograph signing was over and then I noticed I had no pants on...I got a bit uppset that no one had told me so I think I either turned to my mom or friend or I did turn to GD himself and raised my voice a bit saying "Why didnt you tell me I had no pants on?!"

I talked to him like he was any other ordinary person...no one else did, he went away, probobly feeling a bit attacked by my sudden outburst i tought to myself...

Afterwards I tought...maby I shouldnt have yelled at him...maby I should've treated him more respectful and royal like the other people did...then I tought to myself no...I think it was good that I treated him more equal like he is a normal person, when it all comes around why wouldn't he be able to tell someone they have lost their pants just as much as the next person. I felt in a way seeing him as an equal was more respectfull towards him then bowing and treating him like a royal (I think hes sick of that alredy)

Later on we found out that he was infact impressed by me dearing to speak up about it so he had invited us to his private party, it was him, his siblings because in my dream he had serveral, And his dad and his sister did not look like they do in reality, his sister did not even look korean she had blond pmbre hair and a white dress and his dad was quite obese and...a bit of a man-pig drinking tons of alcohol (His real family look much nicer than my dream version of them ♡)

But in my DREAM his dad was very rude towards me...and my mom was quite embarrasing she told GD about how when I fall in love I fall in love hard and get obseesed almost and after I get dumpad I get so sad and cry allot (because I really do fall in love for real) and she tried to talk GD into not falling in love with me because she didnt want me to get so sad if he would break up with me. I got angry at my mom, first of all it was all embarrising second of all I haven't even gotten close to tell GD how I felt it was weeks or months down the line I had just met him for christ sake I couldn't just blurt out that I liked him and sound like any other crazy fan...so I got sad because I tought yepp there it goes my mom just blew any little chance I had with him...and also she called me obssesed who wanna date a person that gets so inlove they almost get obssesed...

Then I remembered GD is a romantic and falls in love hard himself, and he has been looking for someone who I think feels the same way someone that really cares and loves deeply...so I tought maby he would be impressed by my moms speech instead of revolted...but later on both my mom and GD left to go somewhere?! And I was left with his dream-version-dad who looked kind of like Gus from stardew valley actually...anyway he arrogantly sat there with a glas of champagne drunk and blurted out insults at me...later on GD came back and I was sad he wasn't there maby he could've defended me from his dad...well well I tought he wasn't here so might as not tell him.

But then GD himself yelled something at me...I got really sad and now I was the one that run away crying I sat down hoping he would run after me...but he didn't...I tought to myself maby he didn't understand that I got sad...maby he didn't hear me cry...so after a while I went back.

In my head two things happened here its hard to remember what

Either he apologies explaining that he wasn't really mad at me he just took something else out on me like he was hungry or something and cranky and that made him yell.

Or he ignorered me and didnt say anything.

Either way the dream ended pretty anticlimatic with him and me not talking So much just existing near echoter and that made me sad...I wonder what the ending could've been...

I woke up missing him and his aura and voice he felt warm and nice. :)