#but she refuses to extend that same courtesy for us

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I would love a fic with Aemond and a blind!reader. I think it would be an interesting relationship dynamic! Maybe she lives at the castle? Daughter of someone who is on the court or of someone who works there? Free reign!

How could you be so blind?

Aemond x blind!reader / AO3 Link

A/N: sorry it took me soooo long to get to this one, but I wanted to take my time with it! It's not long, but it's cute fluff <3 thank you for requesting this!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

...

“My Prince, are you alright?” 

Criston Cole was about to swing his weapon again until he realised that the Prince had dropped his shield to his side, his other still gripping the handle of his sword overly firm. Aemond hissed at the feeling of the cold metal on his new wound, dropping his shield almost instantly at this uncomfortable ache. 

Aemond grimaced and looked down at his hand, groaning at the sight of a new, line shaped wound that extended across the back of his hand. It had been his own fault and he’d known it. He was reluctant to remember how many times Ser Criston ever told him he should not hold his shield the way he does, otherwise the force of a strike may injure his hands. And yet, he had not listened before and here he was. Blood dripping down his hand and soaking against the leather cuff of his clothes, the sting continued to overwhelm his left hand. 

“It is alright, only a scratch” Aemond said through somewhat gritted teeth.

Criston had known him for too long to know he was putting on a brave face, as he always did. 

Abandoning the weapon, Criston shook his head. 

“Let me see”

Aemond stood back, almost tucking the wounded hand behind himself, pretending as if it never happened.

“I am alright, let’s continue”

“My Prince, I cannot allow you to train injured. You may injure yourself further” 

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Aemond had to accept that once again Ser Criston was right. There was no use in continuing to train with blood dripping from his fingers and a pain like no other shooting to his joints. Though he refused to go quietly, that much was certain.

With several huffs of annoyance and pain, Aemond abandoned his own weapons and training to sit in at the maester, who after cleaning the blood from the wound, simply applied some salve and cloth to keep the area away from dirt. 

Quickly feeling the beginning of a migraine coming on, the last thing he needs at his lunch hour is his brother echoing down the hallway, even the sound of his voice proving to annoy the second son further. 

To his utter dismay, Aegon was not alone, and in through the stone hallways echoed the pointed shoes of his mother and sister, all uncharacteristically together. 

“Aemond” Alicent’s sweet voice echoed slightly across the room, smile fading once she saw how his fingers were pressed against his head, “are you alright?”

Aemond almost felt bad. Not wanting to concern his mother this way.

“I am fine, mother. There is no need to worry”

Aeogn threw a lob-sided smile in his direction, sitting down to retrieve a trusty cup of wine.

“What happened to your hand then?” he smirked, “Ser Criston finally get the better of you?”

“Aemond, your hand” Alicent lifted his hand to inspect, only for her son to tear it away, not wishing to burden her with his injury.

“It is nothing, I have been to the maester for the wound. It will heal with time”

Alicent knew better than to push any further and at the same time, did not want to baby Aemond as he progressed into adulthood. Her brown eyes looked down at him for a moment and gave him a comforting smile and knew to drop the conversation altogether. 

“Well, at least give our guests the courtesy of a smile when they arrive” Alicent said quietly, picking at her skirts and making for the doorway.

“Guests?”

Alicent turned to Aemond, brows furrowed in confusion at his question. She had told him about it just the night before.

“Yes, we are to receive a new member of the Small Council”

“Even I remembered and I am several wines deep” Aegon smirked, downing the cup in his hand. 

Aemond groaned, eye rolling to the back of his head and the heel of his hand pushed harder against his forehead. Of course, he had completely forgotten and his mood at the moment did not permit meeting new people.

“Mother, I am in no mood…” Aemond started. Alicent’s smile dropped and she joined her hands,

“Aemond” her voice was more stern than he was used to, and his good eye looked back at his mother, “at least just be there. You do not have to say anything”

Alicent made for the exit and Aegon revelled in the idea that the oh-so-good second son had upset his mother in this way. Usually it was Aegon bearing the brunt of a mother’s scornful gaze, but it was nice and refreshing for him to gloat a little.

“Yes, brother” Aegon staggered to his feet, completely ignoring their sister as he pushed to follow Alicent, “Put on a good face. Although that may be difficult for you”

Helaena followed without a word, almost hating this as much as Aemond did. Once alone, he let out a heavy sigh and pushed himself groggily to his feet, taking as much time as he needed to follow behind. He really was not in the mood for this. 

He paused before entering the foyer, already hearing the echoed voices of a new man speaking in pleasantries and useless small talk. Hand laced behind his back, he took his place behind Aegon and Helaena, eye slightly closed to resist the sharp pain of the light that might make his headache even worse. Barely even listening to the quiet echoes of his mother, the clatter of heels on the stone floor rapped at his aching head more so.

“Your Grace, this is my daughter”

There was a short silence before a small, quiet voice responded, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. Please extend my thanks to the King for granting my Father this position”

Alicent seemed genuinely stunned for a moment, finding her words, “The pleasure is all mine, my Lady”

Scrunching his eye closed, expectant to make his greetings shortly, Aemond opened his eye a slither, seeing the blurred silhouettes of the Lord and Lady before his mother. He could not make out the woman, blocked by the form of her father as his back faced them.

“And may I introduce you to my children, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond”

Aemond made the effort to open his eye more so. The man was portly, but tall and sent a bow and a small smile, the woman next to him having an unusually strong hold on his arm. They stood before Aegon first,

“Prince Aegon” her voice was quiet still, despite being so close and he could see her extend herself to curtsy before his brother. 

Aegon, as per, had that stupidly drunken grin on his face, searching the woman’s face before him. Cocking his head slightly, he smiled back and kissed her hand, her expression never changed. 

Before Helaena, both of the women curtsied and the silver-haired woman seemed to regard her closely in front of her, perhaps seeing something others did not. But she remained silent and with a similar temperament, greeted her quietly. 

Aemond had not known what to expect when the father and daughter duo landed upon him. Of course, Aemond nodded in greeting to the Lord first before allowing his good eye to land on the woman next to him. Her arm was linked with her father’s, fingers gripped at the sleeve. As if not knowing exactly where she was stood, she took a baby step forward towards Aemond, eyes vacant and staring ahead.

“Prince Aemond” she greeted quietly. As with custom, he took her other hand softly and placed a kiss to it, his eye never leaving her face. She never moved once, save the ever-present chaste smile on her features. And while she stood before him for a moment, he studied all her features, a touch of curiosity tugging at him greatly.

“My Lady” 

He had surprised himself with the greeting, having not thought before the words left his mouth and something tight like a vine wrapped about his chest. 

“My Lord, shall I introduce you to the King, to make your pleasantries” Alicent piped up to cut through the air.

The father simply nodded without a sound, tugged back by the whisper of his daughter.

“Father, might I walk about?” she asked, eyes still straight ahead, vision not shifting.

As if forgetting he nodded, “Your Grace, might the Princess Helaena accompany my daughter through the Keep?

It is a new place, your Grace and she does not know her way about”

Alicent smiled comfortingly and gestured to her daughter, who uncharacteristically raised her head and smiled at the prospect of female company. 

“Of course. Helaena, darling, would you?” 

Helaena nodded enthusiastically and had that child-like smile on her face now, hopping over to the woman as her father gently placed her arm in Helaena’s. He watched almost in pride as the two women walked away, the murmured whispers of the young women audible to those walking by.

“Thank you, Princess. Do be slow with me, I fear my feet cannot keep up” the woman laughed, her hand finding its natural place in Helaena’s.

As the pair walked away, the brother’s were left with two differing versions of curiosity. Aegon with a smirk on his and Aemond’s blank, with the desire to fill his head with more of her.

“Blind, most of her life. Shame, she would be quite pretty if not for that”

Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye.

“You are insufferable”

Aegon furrowed his brows, almost offended, “What? Perhaps it is a blessing she is blind, so she does not have to see your miserable face”

Tsk.

“Better my miserable face than your constant indecent quips”

Aemond felt his fist clench uncontrollably behind his back. Aegon half-turned on the spot to google his brother, one eyebrow raised as if mocking.

“What has gotten into you, brother? Cuntstruck already?”

Aemond could practically feel the burning behind his forehead now, getting more and more agitated at his brother’s neverending mocking.

“Perhaps I sympathise” Aemond said flatly, his broad body facing Aegon now, “or perhaps I am just sick of hearing your voice”

“Either way, I do not give a fuck. Frankly, it amuses me to think there is one good eye between you” 

Aemond could hear how proud his brother was of himself as Aegon slinked down the hallway out of sight, careful to not push his brother too far. But far enough it seemed, as Aemond felt his teeth pierce his lip in annoyance. 

He scanned the hallway, hoping to at least have looped back to bump into her and his sister. But there was no sign of them until much later, when Aemond happened upon the two young women in the gardens. The sight before him made him smile properly for the first time in a while, seeing his sister talking erratically and excitedly. She was knelt before the woman, hands placed out to her to allow a caterpillar Helaena had found to crawl its way onto her skin.

“Oh, it tickles” the lady said, her body tensing and trying her best not to laugh, shaking in her attempt. 

The sound of Helaena’s genuine laugh brushed through the spring trees and the other woman’s too as the insect crawled up her arm.

“Does he have hairs?” she asked.

Helaena looked up wide with glee, “This species do, they use them to sense vibrations in the ground, since they have no eyes”

The woman nodded in understanding and a silence fell onto the Princess, her expression immediately falling, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to offend!”

Helaena looked worriedly at the woman before her, fearing that she was too nice to retaliate to what the Princess perceived as a cruel joke.

But the woman simply shook her head, letting a quiet laugh escape, “There is no need to worry, Princess. I thought nothing of it” 

The woman’s hands hovered over where she thought the caterpillar was, picking the small creature up with her delicate fingers to lay in her palm. Satisfied that her new friend had not been offended with her words, Helaena smiled and took the creature back to lay him back in the grass. 

“I am grateful for your company, Princess. Thank you for taking me around the Keep, it is difficult to memorise on my own” 

Helaena shook her head, “It is alright, my pleasure, my Lady. I hope we can become better acquainted as friends”

Helaena smiled hopefully, “I would like that very much”

She almost squealed with delight at the prospect of a friend, squeezing her hands tightly. 

“If you will excuse me, I will see you tonight for supper”

The young woman nodded, ever a smile on her soft features. She could hear the soft footsteps of the Princess walking away, a sigh escaping her chest as the sound of muffed leaves swayed in the wind. 

Aemond had watched the entire time, mouth slightly open as if to say something. He would not like to admit it to himself, but he was curious about her. She seemed to have a cheerful personality and a smooth, sweet laugh that claimed the dark silence in the air around her. And at first, Aemond was shocked to hear that she was blind. Were it not for her motions, he would never have guessed. 

Her eyes were light and clouded, not dissimilar to a bright white cloud in the sky.

“I can hear you, Prince Aemond”

His heart stopped in his chest as her head turned in his direction, a breath caught in his throat at being caught. Was she lying this whole time about her sight? Surely there was no explanation other than this, he thought.

Then she left a giggle free, “I can hear your footsteps and breathing. I don’t think you are as light-footed as you think”

His chest unclenched at her joking nature, a smile once more making its way slowly on his face, knowing that she would not be able to see and mock him for it.

With this acceptance, he approached her and stood before her seated form.

“I apologise, my Lady. I did not mean to pry” 

She shook her head, “Not at all. Would you like to join me”

Pulling his cuffs back over his wrists, he sat beside her, eye never leaving her.

“Your sister is lovely”

“Hm” he hummed in response, “I think she is happy to finally have some female company” his fingers ran over the bandage on the back of his hand, “I have never seen her so happy”

She clasped her hands together on her lap, using one of her thumbs to run over the other. A nervous gesture perhaps?

“It will be nice, seeing as my father has been graced with his position” 

“Your family intends to stay in residence”

She nods slowly, “I believe so”

“Good” 

Aemond spoke without even thinking, panic settling into his head and neck getting hot once he realised she bit her lip, smiling to hold a giggle inside, “Uh-u…I only meant that…it would be good to know you better. If we are to share the same table”

She nodded still smiling, knowing how flustered he had been.

“Thank you, Prince Aemond” she paused, “although, I do not think your brother feels the same way” 

Aemond was about to open his mouth to say something, kicking himself that she had heard what Aegon had said.

“I urge you not to worry. I have been blind long enough to grow thick skin” she smiles again, and Aemond wonders how someone can be so happy.

“It is still no excuse for his words”

She scoffed, “I don’t think he cares if he offends me or not. I have learned to live with it”

I have learned to live with it, those words echoed in his head for minutes after she had said it. And he felt all but vulnerable again, like a child. 

“I was not born blind” she said, answering the question before Aemond had the opportunity to consider even asking it.

“Although, I was too young to appreciate having sight. It’s funny isn’t it?” she turns to him, but unknowing where exactly he was, her eyes were still focussed past him.

Aemond furrowed his brows, confused, “What is?”

“That you don’t appreciate what you have until it is gone”

It was Aemond’s turn to scoff now, and he did, turning away slightly.

“I’m not sure I would consider it funny” he replied, slightly hurt that he could relate perfectly. 

“Perhaps funny is not the right word, then”

She placed her hands on the bench at the side of her to readjust, unknowingly brushing her hand passed Aemond’s and she flinched, as if he were hot to the touch.

“I apologise”

He murmured a response.

“I use my hands too much” she excuses herself again and he has not observed this until she just said it. But she did reach out for things to check what exactly it was, “It is how I see” she laughs at her own joke, and Aemond feels the mischievous air radiate off her, already feeling as if he knew her better.

“Do you see any light?” he asks, genuinely wondering.

She does a half nod, “I see silhouettes of people. If I focus very well I can see your outline, but even that has gotten worse”

“If people allow I sometimes touch their faces, to see what they look like” she pauses, using her hands with her speaking, “But people usually find that quite strange”

Aemond nodded, understanding what she meant.

“Does it help you?” he asks and he smiles when she returns with a sharp nod, her cheeks rounding up with her smile. 

“My hands are my eyes” she continues, and he relishes in the sound of her voice, “when the eyes are affected, the hands reach out for what is before them”

She spoke in such riddles, sometimes it confused him. Or rather her words were like poetry, as if she had rehearsed what she was going to say. Perhaps that was something Aegon might want to start practicing.

Aemond puts his hand in the air before her, hovering over hers. 

“And what do you feel?” he asks.

She has a confused look on her face for a moment before bumping her hands up to meet his large one, hers were so small in comparison. She emitted a small oh in surprise at feeling his hand was so close to hers and Aemond could see the pure concentration on her face as her delicate fingers ran over his injured hand. Her touch so soft that it did not feel in the least bit painful.

“I feel…” she paused for dramatic effect, “...a hand”

Aemond scoffed at her joking nature.

“Sorry” she half-joked, hands still on his skin. He watched as her fingers studied at him in patience.

“Your hands are large, good for fighting and holding a sword.

Hm…your fingertips are coarse. And you have callouses on the heel of your palm. Perhaps you like to train a lot.

Hmm”

Her hands made their way over one side to the other, pausing as her fingers rested on the bandage.

“You’ve hurt yourself and the bandage is fresh…

No scars other than that. This is not your dominant hand”

Aemond raised his eyebrows, half-shocked and half-impressed at her ability to draw such conclusions. Like those palm readers in King’s Landing.

“You have slender wrists…you were a small child”

Aemond observed her now and her face, her tongue slipping over her lip to concentrate once more. When she is finished, she does not retreat her hands.

“Very good” he said after a short silence and that smile graces her once more. 

Taking in a sharp breath, he turns his body to face her, taking her hands in both of his easily. With his thumbs massaging her palms, he lifts them to place at his jaw.

“What about here?” he asks.

He can tell she is shocked that he has allowed her to touch his face. And she wonders if she should refuse him, feigning nervousness. But curiosity of her own gets the better of her and she is in no position to refuse a Prince. So she applies pressure to either side of his face, but still soft to Aemond.

So much so his eye closes at the feeling of her ghostly hands across his features. 

She traced his jaw, cupping his angular chin, and he no longer wishes to watch her as she does this. Instead opting to disappear in this feeling, her warm hands upon him.

Her thumbs symmetrically glide on his undereye, one tracing the contour of his eye and the other the pattern of this leather eyepatch. And then over the bottom of the scar. But her touch doesn’t falter, as if it is the most usual thing in the world. Her fingers fiddle with the strap of it for a moment before passing over his nose and then to his forehead, and all memory of the migraine he once had was completely gone. Her touch was healing and the throbbing began to dissipate back into his muscles.

He almost sighed out loud as her nimble and small fingertips found their way into his hairline, passing across the follicles and eliciting a feeling of pure bliss. Perhaps it was the feeling of being understood. Or perhaps it was just having the soft, delicate touch of someone.

Her fingers passed over his locks and he opened his eye once again to look at her. He knew she would not be able to see it, but he was smiling contently down at her. 

Her hands retreated, remaining suspended in the air between them and she swore she could feel the current of his breath against them.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

Her tongue came to lick at her lips again as she formed a reply in her head.

“I think you have had a difficult time”

Her words hit him deeply, not like a kick to the chest but that feeling of having the curtains drawn quickly and being woken. He felt his very outer shell begin to peel away, like a peach that she had sunk her thumb into. But not pried open, but rather overripe and splitting of its own accord. Merely needing the touch to splay open.

He swallowed thickly, a feeling of comfort washing over him, knowing that he was being truly seen.

“And you have beautiful hair” 

[echo-nt]

I know this has already been said and I’m super late, but Mia as the protag of RE8 would have been so good. The contrast between Mia, the Lords, and Mother Miranda would have been absolutely interesting. I'm shoving everything under a read more because damn I have so many thoughts about Mia.

Lady Dimitrescu is a woman that cannibalizes and drinks the blood of her servants and intruders. On top of that, she tortures before preying on them. She does this willingly and very much derives pleasure from doing so. Lady D’s gothic triplets hunt any poor fool that wanders in. It’s a fun family activity for them just as much as it’s for sustenance. 

Do you know what this parallels? The Baker family under Eveline’s control. They patrol the estate and anyone who rejects the “gift” either ends up molded or on the dinner table. This family also partakes in a fucked up version of a family dinner, eating the victims that refused their little girl’s “gift.” 

However, a major difference between the Baker and Dimitrescu family is their willingness to participate in these activities. A family of cannibals; one forced while the other relishes in it. 

Mia is still very traumatized by her three years in the Baker’s estate. Breaking into the castle to find her daughter would force her back. Hello to all the emotions that come with those memories, the ones Mia has been trying to forget. The harder you try to forget something, the more you think about it. What better way to make Mia acknowledge Dulvey, Louisiana than by forcing her into something so similar? 

And while she’s still reeling from remembering her time in captivity, why not push her a bit further down memory lane with House Beneviento? Mia has demonstrated at multiple points in RE7 that she does care about other lives. She lies to Ethan to keep him from getting caught up in her work. She tries to save Alan and crew members of "The Annabelle" (the crew members are a bit more indirect, she mainly focused on Alan) by containing Eveline. After Jack finds her, Mia keeps her distance to keep from infecting them while trying to write a warning. She tries her hardest during RE7 to save Ethan. 

Mia’s hallucinations could center on her guilt. The failure to stop Eveline and the lives ruined as a result. How she was always too late to help anyone. Ethan curing her, a criminal, over Zoe, the person helping him. Leaving Zoe behind in the shattered remains of her home and family. Surviving. Visions of Ethan hinting at his “condition” could lure her to the manor. A little nudge to the whole “he was mold the entire time” plot twist without fully giving it away. 

Moreau, lacking in self worth and very attached to a woman who doesn’t give him the time a day, yet still he considers her as his mother. Most of his actions are for the attention and validation from his “mother.” No matter what Moreau does, he’ll never have her affection or time. It’s sad, isn’t it? To witness a man try so hard only to be rejected. And isn’t that familiar? Mia once felt compassion for someone with similar traits. 

Remember the little girl who considered you her mother? The one that spent three years waiting for you to love her after you promised? The one you had a hand in killing? What makes you think you could ever be a good mother after what you did? Why are you trying so hard to save Rose when you didn’t even extend the same courtesy to Eveline?

Y’all know how Mia’s past is a mystery? Like why she was working for the Connections and how she was even recruited and all that. Heisenberg would be a great way to explore it. A man taken, forced into becoming something else, and stuck in a family he doesn’t want. Mia can relate. He wants to use her daughter as a weapon. She was willing to let another child be used as a weapon. They’re alike, so surely Mia would be willing to side with him.

But Heisenberg is cocky and Mia isn’t the person she was prior/during 7. Even if she was on board with using Eveline as a weapon to end all wars or whatever bullshit the Connections told her, she’s not willing now. Not after what she’s seen and been through. This section could be Heisenberg goading her through the tvs/intercoms about her past to change her mind with Mia remaining steadfast in her refusal.

And then there’s Mother Miranda. Two mothers trying to get their daughters back through vastly different means. Because of the group photo showing Mia and Miranda with Eveline this encounter can go one of two ways. 

Miranda and Mia know each other and have worked together before. Whether it be on the E-Series Project (with Mia becoming the caretaker and spending copious amounts of time at the lab) or though some other means at work. 

They’ve only briefly met when the Connections were in a hurry to transport Eveline.

Either way, Miranda would compare them. As a mother, Mia must understand what she’s trying to accomplish. Would Mia not do the same as she? Maybe at this point Miranda shows she killed Ethan to demoralize to prevent her from interfering with the ceremony. Tells her she’s too late once again and to give Rose to her because she’ll be the superior mother.

Idk, I guess you could switch to Ethan instead of Chris so he can still have Eveline tell him he’s moldy. But he’s a stubborn man and he forces himself back to weaken Miranda so Mia can kill her. Chris shows up and Ethan does the same thing he did at the end by blowing himself up with Chris forcing Mia (with Rose) on the helicopter. That way the Shadow of Rose DLC can still be about Rose and Ethan. 

TLDR; Mia should have been the protagonist because it would have allowed us to explore her character and background more. It was a missed opportunity especially since so much of RE8 centers around mothers. It would have played out better as closing off the Winters Family saga as well since we could have tied the loose ends that came with Mia’s mysterious past.

[minotaur-asterion]

Fellas, I haven’t written a post like this in five years, and I hoped I’d never have to, but here we are. Recently I’ve been seeing a couple posts in the Slay the Princess tag spreading negativity: complaining about certain characters getting more attention and different treatment, implying rather serious things about people who prefer one character over the others, generally trying to start drama. (That is what I assume the posts are meant to do, since I would hope everyone remembers that if you don’t have anything nice to say...) The topic of community within this fandom is very important to me so I feel it’s necessary to give a very gentle reminder of what the game is all about.

Attempting to shame other people for focusing on specific characters is horribly inappropriate. The game only has three characters, and there’s not much room to ignore any of them given their importance to the story. If people love the Princess, that’s because she’s literally in the title of the game; if people love the Long Quiet, that’s because they are an expression of you as the player; if people love the voices and the Narrator, that’s because they act as your companions throughout the game.

I’m really glad that most of us appreciate all the characters! But you cannot expect every single person to have the exact same opinions about every character. We all come from different walks of life and we will all have our own specific reasons for loving a certain character more or less. Whether you understand these reasons or you’re making general assumptions about why they’re particularly drawn to them, it isn’t okay to be rude about it. As the saying goes: “don’t yuck someone else’s yum.”

It truly makes me sad to see that, considering this game is about perspectives (especially perspectives that conflict), some Slay the Princess fans refuse to extend the courtesy of hearing someone out- and, barring that, leaving them alone. Seriously, if something bothers you there’s a block button!

There is, of course, nuance; if you’re speaking with a friend group in private and everyone has explicitly stated this kind of behavior is acceptable, then have at it. My problem is when people do it to random strangers- they are not engaging in fandom to listen to others rag on about them and insinuate things like misogyny and misandry.

Kindness is free, don’t forget to like and subscribe, etc.

[bitchiswild]

Clingy

Blackpink x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I’m kinda jet lagged, so I get sleepy at random times but! ☝️I will try to write the requests in my inbox, give me time🙏

Requested

Since all the girls had been occupied with their separate schedules, you finally managed to align everyone's free time for a long-overdue movie night. The excitement was palpable as Jisoo arrived first at your penthouse. The moment she stepped through the door, you attached yourself to her like a duckling, following her every move.

You trailed behind Jisoo to the kitchen, standing beside her as she prepared snacks for the movie. Your companionship even extended to the bathroom, but Jisoo promptly kicked you out, a move that spared her privacy momentarily. However, your attention quickly shifted as the sound of keys jingled at your front door. Rushing to greet the newcomer, you found Jennie entering. Without hesitation, you leaped into her arms, catching her off guard. Despite giggling at your antics, Jennie only managed to extricate herself when she needed to remove her jacket. Pouting, you reluctantly released her, but the moment she finished, you resumed your hugging spree not wanting to let her go.

Jisoo, having exited the bathroom, greeted Jennie and observed your clinginess. "She's really clingy today," Jisoo remarked.

"Maybe because we haven't seen each other in a while," Jennie replied, her affection for you evident. You were like her baby, and the feeling of missing you was mutual. Her heart ached from being away from her maknae for too long.

Turning your head, you noticed Jisoo again, and like a magnet, you gravitated toward her, hugging her as well. This prompted a sigh from Jisoo and a giggle from Jennie. "I was only gone for a couple of minutes, Y/n," Jisoo said, gently caressing your head.

You shook your head, complaining, "A couple of minutes too long," as you buried your head into Jisoo's chest, inhaling her comforting scent that brought you back to your trainee days. Jisoo had always been a source of comfort for you.

As the trio—consisting of you, Jennie, and Jisoo—headed towards the couch, Jisoo more waddled than walked due to your refusal to let her go. The sound of someone at the door suddenly caught your attention.

"Hello! Anybody home?" the voice called out. Excitement filled the air as you quickly let go of Jisoo, rushing towards the voice.

"Chaeyoung!" you exclaimed with pure excitement, rushing into her arms.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed back, dropping all the things in her hands to hug you tightly. "I missed you so much!" she continued, grabbing your face to observe you, turning it into a playful moment that left you looking like a fish, courtesy of her gentle squeezing. "My baby is beautiful as ever," she whispered, planting a sweet peck on your forehead.

Sighing in comfort, your face buried into her neck, and your legs wrapped around her waist. Chaeyoung didn't mind; she loved every moment of it, gladly carrying you to the living room where the other girls were.

Greeting them, Chaeyoung remarked, "Hey girls, Y/n is more clingy than usual, huh?" She questioned as she hugged them, even with you still attached to her.

"Yeaaa, she really misses us. She clung onto Jisoo and me for a while earlier too," Jennie updated Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung settled in between Jisoo and Jennie, with you still comfortably on her lap. However, since Jennie and Jisoo were also around, you sought their warmth. You grabbed their hands and held on, sighing in comfort because almost all your favorite people were around you.

Just as you got comfortable, the sound of keys echoed near the door. Quickly letting go of Jennie and Jisoo's hands and getting off Chaeyoung's lap, you rushed towards the front door, excited that finally, all your favorite people were in the same room.

Lisa finished taking off her shoes, then noticed you opening your arms. "Y/n! My favorite member!" Lisa exclaimed as you ran into her arms, embracing her tightly. The rest of the girls in the living room chimed in with a offended "Hey!" Lisa giggled at their reply but still held onto you tightly as she made her way toward them, greeting each one. "Just to warn you, Y/n is very clingy today." Jisoo said.

"I can see that," Lisa replied, looking down at you in her arms and gently caressing your cheek.

"Y/n, are you ready to watch the movie?" Jennie questioned.

You hummed. "Wait, let me hug Lisa a little more," you said, eliciting giggles from the girls. Finally, you let Lisa go, and the movie began.

Throughout the entire movie, you sat in the middle, with Jisoo and Lisa on the floor, and Jennie and Chaeyoung on either side of you. You needed them to at least touch you in some sort of way, or else you would throw a fit. The girls understood you, and since you were their baby, they would do anything for you. While the movie played, everyone hugged your legs or arms, making you sigh contently in the warmth of their presence.

As the movie came to an end, everyone turned their attention to you, noticing your attempt to hold back tears. "Y/n, what's wrong?" Jennie asked with concern.

Tears fell as you answered, "I don't want you guys to leave yet."

"Oh, baby, it's okay. We'll sleep over, okay?" Chaeyoung reassured, attempting to comfort you as Lisa and Jisoo wiped away your tears.

"And we will cuddle with you all night long, okay?" Lisa added, making you nod with a smile.

"We love you, Y/n," Jisoo expressed, gently caressing your cheek.

"I love you guys too. Thank you for being here and dealing with my clinginess," you told them, feeling grateful.

The girls didn't mind. "You're our maknae; we would do anything for you," Chaeyoung said.

"Let's head to bed, yeah?" Jennie suggested, helping you up. The girls guided you towards your room, preparing for a cozy night.

"Can we hang out tomorrow?" you asked.

They all giggled. "Yes."

And with that, the girls entered your room, closing the door behind them, ready to enjoy a night filled with happiness and cuddles.

[ruthlesslistener]

wait lurien has cut dialogue??? i am. very curius

anon: Lurien has a cut monologue? I tried to find the dreamer's cut dialogue a while back and barely got a couple of extra lines for Lurien in comparison to monomon who had a paragraph. Also PK offered to sire hornet??? Please tell me where I can find this I'm desperate for more info on the dreamers

...

Well, Lurien doesn't have too much cut dialogue, but here it is: I found it in the cut content section of the Hollow Knight fandom wiki, which requires a lot of dropdown clicks in order to actually get to it

And a transcript, bc this image is fuzzy:

"For this city and for King beloved, I become bond upon the Vessel."

"That black choice made, but not by me. Our King claimed that burden. My lot is easier, only to sleep and to serve."

"My city. Do you sustain without me? Do you thrive? I would see your streets again..."

"Our King appears as bug, and I shall take him as so. But his are traits that transcend our kind. His is a mind beyond ours. Deity given form. In sleep, I shall not look upon his like again."

"Remember our promise, sister! We three vowed to protect the seal with all of our devotion."

"Remember our bond... our sacrifice. For the kingdom’s sake... for the one we must protect."

He's not very verbose, but it's more so than Herrah's dialogue, which is as follows:

Transcript:

"For my daughter and my kind, I become bond upon the Vessel."

"Wyrm, your attempt may prove futile, but your offer I could not refuse."

"My child...For you, I would give it all."

"For her, I would give it all."

And here's Monomon's. I'm not even gonna bother with a screenshot lol, she rambles too much to get it all in one piece

Transcript:

"For diversity. For variance. For evolution. I become bond upon the Vessel."

"We sealed that plague, and thought we’d found an answer, but we were wrong. Our sacrifices... what did they win us? A world sealed in stasis."

"Only one path I see. The Seals must break. Will it bring destruction? Of course. It will bring change, too. Let it. To live forever in an unchanging world... Death, I would fear less."

"Will it bring destruction? Of course. It will bring change, too. Let it. To live forever in an unchanging world... that is the only death I fear."

"To sleep eternal, what difference from death?"

"Open your minds, brother and sister. Our vow was to protect...but do we? The Vessel weakens."

"My mind is seal upon that tragic being. But who shall teach them now? Who shall open their minds, where I cannot?"

"So... we found each other after all. Can you see me, here in this forgotten dream? I can see only light."

"Our sacred Hallownest... It was so old. An eternal, undying kingdom... unchanging. They called me 'Teacher', but what did I have left to teach? What did I have left to learn?"

"When the light came, we feared it. Of course we did! So we fought to keep things as they were. Our sacrifices... what did they win us? Simply another kind of stasis."

"We fought against you, too. Struggling against our fate. The light we caged away... it is alive, and we are not. Is that what draws you to it?"

I'm sure that the cut dialogue for Lurien is exactly the same as what you found when you encountered Monomon's, anon, but it does offer us a lot more insight into his character, showing us that he was extremely protective of the City of Tears, that he considered the Vessel plan to be a dark necessity that weighed on PK, and that he was one of the few bugs who actually met PK in the flesh and knew the truth of his nature. That paints a picture of someone who was at the very core of Hallownest's workings, alongside Monomon, who we know had a hand (tentacle?) in knowing the details about the vessel plan- something that fits with the formal 'sister/brother' titles used by them both, even though Monomon also extends that courtesy to Herrah (who seems indifferent to the other two, lmao).

There's also a developer note relating to Lurien that describes his potential character as 'more detatched than the other Dreamers' and 'taciturn':

Transcript:

More detached than the other dreamers? Maybe ponders how the Hollow Knight (vessel) feels after all this time. Would he make the same choice again? First few dialogues are very taciturn.

Which is something that I think comes across far better in his cut dialogue than just...cutting it out altogether. I get that they wanted him to be detached and mysterious, but what we have in-game is bread crumbs and a floating umbrella rather than a cohesive character, as evidenced by all the shitty fucking takes out there painting him as a 'simp', a 'bootlicker', and a 'creep', none of which really fit the concept of a mysterious, protective bug with ethical concerns about what his god-king was getting up to

[bluerose5]

Zevran & Astarion Banter Pt. 10/?

[First] [Prev] [Next]

...

Astarion: I want to thank you.

Zevran: For being one of few who bring a worthwhile sense of fashion to our camp?

Astarion: For what happened with that wretched drow. Tav had the matter in hand, but you stepped in to defend me when you didn't have to. That... meant a lot.

Zevran: It was nothing, truly.

Astarion: So threatening to "spill her blood for all to see" is something you do for everyone then?

Zevran: I was simply, as they say, threatening her with a good time. Since she enjoys blood so much, I figured that she would probably like to see her own for a change. I gave her an opportunity to die for.

Astarion: Quite literally. Still, it seems that I can always rely on you to remind me that what I want matters, even when I forget that fact myself. For that, I am grateful.

Zevran: And I must reiterate that it was nothing.

Astarion: Yet it was very much something to me.

Zevran: I— Enough. I will speak of this no more. Let us continue on to camp.

...

Zevran: I would like to apologize.

Astarion: Whatever for?

Zevran: I was acting cold towards you earlier. It was uncalled for, childish even on my part.

Astarion: No apology necessary, my dear.

Zevran: Ah, but it is! You were right that I got quite defensive when the drow kept dismissing what you wanted. I would like to think that I would extend most people the same courtesy in defense of their autonomy, but my reaction turned out to be more intense than even I expected, given the circumstances.

Astarion: You didn't seem too keen on discussing this earlier. What changed?

Zevran: Would it be too cheesy if I said everything? Honestly, though, I just don't know how to act around you. I think—I think that I have come to care for you, my dear.

Astarion: Really?

Zevran: I believe so. It is hard to say. I am unused to such a concept.

Astarion: You and me both.

Zevran: For as long as I can remember, I have been taught that affection and sentimentality are weaknesses, only useful if they are to be exploited in service of the Crows. If they serve no greater purpose in carrying out a contract, then they are hindrances at best. My mind keeps telling me that what I feel is wrong. The last time I was close to another, it did not end well, yet —excuse the clichés— my heart refuses to listen.

Astarion: Are you saying that you're in love with me?

Zevran: I do not know. How could I even tell?

Astarion: You're asking the wrong person, darling. I'm afraid that I'm about as clueless as you in that regard.

Zevran: As to be expected, I suppose. I might not know if it is love per se, but I do know that whatever you wish to call it, our bond is important to me, and I would like to explore these new feelings and figure out what they mean together. If you are willing.

Astarion: If I am willing, he says. Dearest Zevran, of course I am.

[iamthecomet]

Merry Christmas! Perhaps consider this little blurb to be an impromptu Christmas present? (I really hope you like it 😭) (heed this warning, there is slight mentions to BDSM, but nothing explicitly described as well as the word mommy used to describe Cumulus and baby boy to describe dewdrop)

But I was thinking about Cumulus and Dewdrop, right? Dominatrix Cumulus taking Dewdrop under her wing so he has a healthy outlet to let things go and to hopefully teach him to take care of himself better and to instill healthy habits. Naturally before the relationship began the two of them sat down to talk about some ground rules that would be established

The main ones that Cumulus wanted Dew to acknowledge and understand first are : no excessive drinking, no more then five cigarettes a day (this is one I feel like Dew would struggle with the most giving he likes to chain smoke to deal with his feelings), drink at least three glasses of water a day, keep up with his meals or at least eat snacks throughout the day to accommodate and to check in whenever the thoughts got to be too much. "There was no sneaking around", Cumulus told Dewdrop when they had finished the conversation "because Mommy always knows". Cumulus chuckled and pressed a kiss to Dews head when she didn't get nothing in reply except for a flushed Dewdrop in reply

Everything was going good for Dew since their arrangement had started, and the other ghouls could tell what a positive impact it had on the fire ghoul. His mood had improved and he didn't look as sickly any more. Nobody had no clue why the sudden 360 had happened, but multiple ghouls and even Papa told him to keep it up and that whatever he was doing was working for him. It wasn't until the ghouls were celebrating a good show well done at a local pub did someone find out

Dew had decided to slip out for a breather only to notice that Swiss was outside doing the same, but he was smoking on his vape instead. A small smile and a tilt of his head let Dew know that he was welcome, and with an awkward smile of his own Dewdrop had stood next to him, eyeing the vape curiously in Swiss' hand. Thinking that the fire ghoul wanted to hit it, he extended the hand holding it out to him. Immediately Dewdrop looked away, as if even looking at it would earn him a punishment. "Ah- no, I'm good", Dew meekly replied. Cumulus never said nothing about vapes considering that cigarettes were his poison of choice, but he already had his five for the day courtesy to a case of the pre-show jitters. The fire ghoul knew he could argue of a loophole but he didn't want to get the lexan paddle to his bare ass anyway if, and most likely when, Cumulus didn't find his argument sustainable. Dew could still feel a very slight sting from when he accidentally skipped a meal a week and a half ago

Swiss raised a brow and tilted his head at that, retracting his hand. It was as if his suspicions had been confirmed. It started when Dew had begun to refuse a hit every time Swiss offered during a show. Alright, whatever. Swiss figured that it was because he suddenly gathered up a slight sense of professionalism, which was still weird for Dewdrop if Swiss was to be honest but it is what it is he supposed. But for him to out right refuse when they're in nobodies company but their own had Swiss a little concerned. "Ok? What the fuck is up with you? Usually you're begging me to let you hit and now you just quit? That's pretty weird dude"

Dewdrop blushes just like any other time somebody mentioned his change in habits "it's..Cumulus.." He mumbled abashedly, looking away with a lovesick smile on his face as a blush crept up on his cheeks "we had a talk and she doesn't like when I smoke so much..so we came to an agreement on how much I can smoke a day and I've reached my limit.." Dew explained with as little details as possible with a shrug, hoping that would satisfy the multi's need to be nosy. It would soon come back to bite Dew in the ass though when Swiss snorted, making the smile on the fire ghouls face fall and be replaced with a defensive expression with his brows furrowed and a snarl on his lips

"Look- don't get me wrong- I don't care in the slightest but just because she's the one doing the fucking- yeah don't sit there and act surprised, I've seen how hard it is for you to sit down sometimes-" Swiss says in reply to Dews startled squeak "-but it doesn't mean you gotta let her rule your life. If you really want a hit, just take one, man". Ohhhh Swiss would not be saying that if he was the one at the mercy of the paddle. Absolutely not

But he stared at Swiss for a second, and when he got that itch in his fingers to take the vape he snapped, storming back inside to hopefully find Cumulus. He found her at the bar, chatting with Mountain about God knows what. Wordlessly Dewdrop tugged on her sleeve from behind, trying to tell her without words that he needed to leave. Luckily the air ghoul got the message before turning around and excusing herself, telling Mountain to tell anyone in the pack who asked that she was tired and that she was going to hail a cab back to the hotel with dewdrop to turn in for the night

Cumulus decided it would be best for them to wait outside to give Dew a chance to tell her what was wrong, considering the blonde was so close to breaking down outside of the bar. "Swiss..", the fire ghoul keened as he buried his face into the air ghouls shoulder "he..he tried to get me to hit his vape..". Cumulus nodded as she raked her manicured nails gently along Dews scalp "Mhm..you didn't though, right? You were already at your smoking limit for today, firelily"

"No!", Dewdrop shouted, forgetting himself for a moment before apologizing and explaining "no..but- but I thought about it..I wanted to do it! I'm a bad boy, I deserved to be punished..". Cumulus' heart broke for his baby boy, believing he deserved to be punished for a simple thought. What's most important is that Dew didn't give in and came to find her. In her eyes her baby didn't break not a single rule which meant a punishment wasn't needed, and she voiced as such. " But- I-" Dewdrop got cut off by a quiet shush from Cumulus, who had noticed a cab had pulled up and was waiting for them "not now Hun. We'll talk more when we get back to the hotel, ok?" She asked, her hand running down his back and resting on the fire ghouls ass. Dew gasped, a blush dusting across his cheeks for certainly not the first time that night as he understood what Cumulus meant by 'talking'. "Hm..I'm gonna have to talk to a certain ghoul about what happens to those who tempt my baby, huh?", the air ghoul whispered in his ear before taking him by the elbow and leading him to the cab. Oh shit, Dewdrop thinks with a hint of giddyness, Swiss is sure in for it now

(Brought to you by a person currently running on four hours of sleep 🙃)

Oh. Oh I ADORE THIS. I adore them. And poor Dew, trying so hard, such a good good boy. So worried that just a thought is going to make Lus mad at him. All he wants to do is make her happy, be her good boy. God this is WONDERFUL. Thank you for sharing with me, I'm going to be thinking about this one, turning it around in my brain, chewing on it.

[practically-an-x-man]

From @hawthorne-spengler-stantz's tag for me on this post

Pick your characters and give them a book filled with every thought anyone ever had about them. What would they read first? The positive or the negative ones? The thoughts of people they actually know or a stranger’s thought?

Rae: Refuses to even open the book. For one thing, she wouldn't want people to read the thoughts she's had about them, that feels vaguely like an invasion of her mind, so she'd want to extend the same courtesy. And for another, she doesn't want her mind to get stuck on what other people think.

Robin: Comes up with a few set rules for herself before opening the book. She will not look at thoughts from friends or family, only strangers - she doesn't want it to affect any of her close relationships, no matter how curious she may be.

Madison: Goes on a seek-and-destroy mission for her parents' thoughts. She can't help the curiosity, she needs to know what they think of her after what happened with Johnny, and if they'll ever forgive her.

Ophelia: The book is mostly entertainment for her - she'll flip through the thoughts of strangers who have seen her as Argonaut, most of them are like reading crappy Yelp reviews and she finds it funny. Sometimes, if she has a really bad day, she'll flip through her mother's of Harry's thoughts for a while to ward off the grief.

Jasper: Doesn't bother looking at the book. They can sense others' emotions, so they already have a general sense of what people think of them, and they really don't need the specifics. They only ever (ever) look at one small section of the book - Kyle's thoughts when he was first brought back, when he was still struggling to communicate. They knew there was a lot he wanted to say to them... so why not see what it was that he wanted to say?

Quinn: Reads through the whole book, she doesn't care what people think of her. Some of Lex's old thoughts hurt (she didn't know how jealous and vengeful Lex really was, or how long she'd been planning for what happened in Kyiv), but they're made up by learning how early Billy's feelings for her started - about the same time she started developing feelings for him, actually. And she gets a kick out of the strangers' thoughts, though she later ends up going in with a permanent marker and redacting the worst of the transphobic ones.

Kestrel: Originally considers reading the book, hoping it would help them convince their mind that they made an impact on the world and people around them (something they struggle with). But then they realize that could very quickly lead to a rabbithole of obsession on other people's thoughts, so it's safest not to touch it. They even go so far as to bury it in the backyard - they really, really don't want that temptation.

Katherine: Ahk's section is, quite literally, half the book. He spends a lot of time thinking about her, especially when he's sitting through the daylight hours each day. Katherine reads the first page... then pauses and sets herself a stopping point. It's not fair to him that she read everything, that's a bit invasive, so she only reads up to the moment she learned the secret of the museum. That felt... maybe not fully fair, but at least a somewhat-justified stopping point - she said all her thoughts to him when she visited, not knowing he was listening, so it's not awfully unfair to read that section of his thoughts in return. She also flips through the thoughts of her old bullies, too curious for her own good, and found that a lot of their taunting just came from a mountain of insecurity.

Eris: Their book is massive from how long they've been alive, but most people in it only get a line or two since Eris rarely makes longer connections. He can't help but look through Rick's section, though. It's the only one that takes up any significant amount of pages itself, and Eris is stunned to learn how deeply he really cares about them.

Nikoletta: Flips through the thoughts of everyone at Belle Reve, and uses it as a guide to managing her status and knowing who's really loyal to her. Most of the thoughts are neutral at best, while some people are outright imagining what they'd do to her if they had the chance... those thoughts do frighten her, a bit. By the time she gets to Abner's section, she's surprised at how soft it is compared to the rest. He's about the only person who hasn't plotted her demise, even offhandedly - hell, even Adrian (her right-hand man) has wondered briefly about whether he could be the King of Belle Reve if he took care of the Queen. Thankfully that thought didn't stick.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Eren rolls a couple notes up and slips them right between her boobs while she’s flirting with another guy at the bar! Said guy is in shock, even more so when she shrugs and gets up and follows Eren to the back!! Tbh, she was only flirting with this guy because she looked hot tonight and Eren wasn’t there, was probably supposed to be out of town for some gang related stuff and when he got back he checked her location and decided to turn up. His dick got hard the moment he saw her tits spilling out of that tight dress that was riding dangerously high up her thighs. Probably didn’t even see the loser buying her drinks, just wanted to show “not his girl” (definitely his girl) his appreciation 😏 this incident does not help his case that he’s paying for sex 😭

I got this idea from your tattoo artist fic where he pays Miki by putting the cash she’s refusing to take in between her cleavage!!

K anon i loved this so much I had to write a drabble for it, sorry anon that's why it took me a bit lol!! but omg aww, i forget about tattoo artist Miki and Eren sometimes, this is a great reminder lol!

It's not like Eren to show affection.

Wait scratch that, it's not like her or Eren to show affection. They just don't. They're not dating, they're not friends, they're not anything really, enemies at worst, fuck buddies at best, and she wouldn't even extend the courtesy that far. But at the same time, she finds herself missing him when he's not around, finds her gaze circling the bar, waiting for him to show up, to take her to the back room and fuck her brains out like she wants. She hasn't seen him in a while, can she really be blamed? She'd covertly asked Armin and the blonde had given her this smug all-knowing look that she wanted to smack off his face, but ultimately had told her he was out on gang business, something about betting, bookkeeping, she wasn't too sure.

So here she is, pouting as she talks to some Eren wannabe, some hotshot waving his vape around like he isn't vaping fucking cotton candy. It's almost instantly offputting, but he's about the only acceptable one in the bar right now, so she powers through, at least it doesn't smell like smoke as she's so accustomed to from most of her family members.

It could be worse, but then again, it could be better, he could smell like mint and aftershave and the heady scent of Eren's cologne.

The guy gives her a slick smile, his finger trailing along her forearm in some pathetic attempt at flirtation as he attempts to flag the bartender down to grab her a drink.

"What do you want sugar?" Ugh, a nickname too? There's only one person she'll tolerate nicknames from, and it's only because he's particularly good at evading her punches and has a nice dick, no one else.

Mikasa grits her teeth, smile tight, "A corona is fine." "Oh a beer girl, you sure you don't want something a little fruitier?" Absolutely not on her life, it's much harder for guys to drug beer bottles in her experience, and although she's not sure if that's what he's about just yet, he clearly doesn't know exactly who he's dealing with.

She maintains her smile, icy as can be as she gives him a delicate nod, playing the part of demure party girl who has no idea what's going on here, that this bar is used for drug deals and money handoffs.

"I'm okay, I like my beer." He shrugs, making another aggressive motion for the bartender, but he's once again ignored in favour of higher paying customers with more clout. Mikasa fights to hold back her chuckle, Eren would never be refused and if he was the bartender's head would be on the counter, knife to his throat.

The boytoy has teeth if nothing else.

It's really too bad he's not here.

But God must be smiling down on her or something, because before her date for the night can say another word, make another smarmy grab for her waist, cop a feel at her ass, she feels the very alarming touch of another man on her breasts, warm paper cylinders slipping down her top. She almost whips out the knives, who dares to touch her so callously, so boldly and as she looks down, who the fuck thought she was worth 200 in her titties just for existing. Irate silver eyes turn and just as quickly as she's enraged, she melts again

"Eren," she breathes excitedly, because he looks exceptionally handsome tonight, his hair windswept and clearly still high on adrenaline, shirt sticking to every crevice of his chest and arms.

He shrugs, not even bothering to greet her date, not deeming him worth the energy, talks only to her in a low brusque tone, "You look hot tonight Mika, get yourself something good from the bartender." And then Eren snaps, slamming his right hand rather aggressively down onto the bartop, one quick rumble and the bartender appears almost immediately.

Her date is shocked still, mouth hung open in awe while Mikasa eyes up her first choice for the night, considering all the different ways she wants to bed him. "Get her a shot, Patron, none of that cheap shit," he mulls the rest of his decision over for a moment, giving her a quick once over, before shaking his head conspiratorily, "And a corona I guess."

Mikasa beams at him, and he gives her hip a quick pat before pulling out another wad of cash, he must have done well tonight. He slaps it on the counter, before leaning over the bar to very casually grab an entire bottle of vodka, probably for his table if she had to guess, but she knows the cash will more than cover it. He looks up at her date finally, as if remembering he was there, Eren's pretty face pulls up into a disgusted scowl as he notes his hand on her forearm, "And you, newbie, you want anything?" The boy swallows nervously, shaking his head and Eren shrugs before giving her ass a quick smack and waltzing back to his table with his entire bottle of vodka, like he didn't just blow her mind, didn't just pop 200 between her tits bc she looked pretty tonight. And she supposes that's what really attracts her to Eren in the end, his ability to take complete control of a situation, dominate her attention, no one else has ever captured her interest in quite the same way. And as the bartender hands her the corona and her shot, she thinks she wants that tonight and not some green newbie. She takes her shot quickly, chomping down on the lime and wiping her lips with her sleeve, before grabbing the bottle neck of her corona, "I'll see you later newbie, I've got business to take care of." And then she trounces off to see her man, cuddle up in his lap and sip on his vodka until he agrees to leave with her.

She thinks he deserves a little something for saving her from the douche bag and well, like Eren said, she looks hot tonight, her little black dress barely covering her important bits, someone should appreciate it.

[osric-giroux-ffxiv]

To Err is Human...

[Mentions of Torture Below the Cut.]

Light danced across the walls of the study of the Slater estate, the lone occupant idly flipping through the few pages of…something, a report of some kind, before half-heartedly tossing the papers into the fire, the flames almost instantly growing brighter. 

Not that Osric noticed or minded, his thoughts otherwise occupied as they were. 

He didn’t need to read the report to know a snowstorm was coming, it seemed as though one swept through the highlands on a weekly basis. He was counting on it. Counting on letting the bone chilling cold do its work as it almost had to him, painfully slowly, and he couldn’t help but wonder what acts of desperation this Ichiro might go to in order to try to stay alive. 

It wouldn’t matter.. There was only one way to reach where they were going, and only one way to get down, and since he had no intention of providing such means down…Osric exhaled slowly, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. Too light to be Wyland’s…it was also too late for it to be Wyland’s, leaving only one possibility. 

“Edalene.”

“Osric. Going somewhere?”

“I’ve work to tend to. You ran the house for several years - you know as well as I do that there’s always something in need of attention.” 

Edalene hummed, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she moved into the room, pushing the door closed with her foot, her eyes narrowing in her brother’s direction. Slowly she crossed the distance to the chairs in front of the fireplace, easing down onto the armrest of one of the chairs and crossing one leg over the other. “You’re right, there is something always in need of attention, but never anything that demanded that the head of the house disappear in the middle of the night to tend to it.”

“Things change and business interests change.”

“Hm. When did we start keeping secrets from one another, big brother?”

Osric stilled before turning around slowly, his jaw clenched. “Keeping secrets? You want to ask me about keeping secrets, Edalene? You, who knew the truth of our parentage well before I did and chose not to tell me because it would have ‘caused problems’. You, who even now refuses to tell me who you work for. You, who seems to know far too much far too often, wants to ask me about keeping secrets?!” 

There was a small breathless chuckle before Edalene stood, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before shoving her brother hard in the chest. “Is it keeping it a fucking secret if the other person never really wanted to know, Osric?? You didn’t really want to know about Kenward. You said you did, but it was easier to be angry and brood than it was to face the reality and we both know it. You needed a reason to be angry, to keep going and having that information took that reason away. So it stayed a big damn secret until it was no longer useful and now Kenward is rotting away in an unmarked grave out in the Highlands somewhere. Even now, you know who I work for, you’ve always known who I worked for. You just don’t want to say it. Happy to go along and focus on the issue infront of you and ignore the issues in the peripheral…but now you can’t. Is that what’s happening?”

Standing tall and bearing the brunt of his sister’s shove, he didn’t move an inch - it’s often how their shouting matches went. “I’ve always been aware of the issues in the peripheral and you damn well know it. But there is nothing I would not do for those that are important to me and this merger of houses - this betrothal is important, and I need to know that I can trust you to -”

He was cut off by another rough shove to the chest, this one catching him off guard.

“You fucking bastard. This is about that!? Whether or not you can trust me?? Do you know what happened to the information about Kenward’s death? It magically fucking disappeared. Poof. Gone. Did you honestly think that the same courtesy wasn’t going to extend to the woman you’re marrying and her house!? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for those that are important to me, Osric. Hasn’t that been the saying, the motto, the mantra since mother and father died?” Edalene glared up at him angrily. “And if Lady Cress and this merger is so gods damn important to you that makes her important to me.”

A finger was jammed into the center of his chest. 

“Even when you tossed everything away and fucked off to gods know where to play mercenary - do you honestly think the rumors stopped? Because I assure you they didn’t, big brother. Do you have any fucking clue how many rumors I’ve quashed in the years since our parents died? How many secrets I’ve had to hunt down and keep buried for the sake of protecting you? What in the fuck makes you think that I’d suddenly turn around and stop doing that because the family expanded?” 

Edalene slammed her shoulder into him as she moved past, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a drink and then up to my room before I say or do something I regret. Whatever ‘business’ you have to take care of I suggest dressing warmly - that storm is supposed to be a bad one.”

“Edalene…”

“Fuck off, Osric. I have nothing else to say to you right now that doesn’t involve telling you where to shove your lance.” She glared over her shoulder briefly before slamming the door behind her on her way out and leaving the former dragoon alone with his thoughts and the crackling of the fire behind him.

It was the crackling of the small, protected fire that drew him from his thoughts, along with rather pathetic whimpering from his guest. 

Osric paused, setting aside the hunting knife he’d been sharpening and adjusted his heavy cloak around him before turning to glare at Ichiro. The man was bound, shivering from head to toe. His fingers were all pointing at odd angles, clearly broken, what thin clothing he wore was tore to shreds, blood dripping down from wounds near the man’s knees - he appeared unable to put any weight on either of his legs - hanging as he was from the bindings around his wrists. 

His shoulders appeared malformed - dislocated perhaps, and his teeth were chittering from the cold, a cold that Osric appeared to be wholly unbothered by as he pulled a flask from his cloak and took a long sip.

“I told you about making noise, didn’t I, Ichiro?”

He had - Bruce had arrived on time and with the man bound and gagged and the conversation had been brief and to the point once the Roegadyn had taken his leave.

“How this evening  goes depends entirely on you. Make noise, whine, complain, and you’ll suffer accordingly. Shut up and accept the suffering you’ve earned and this will all be over before you know it. Your choice, Ichiro.”

The man had been stoic, stone faced at the time…and then the first bitterly cold wind had cut through him, and he’d whimpered and attempted to draw close to the fire that Osric had prepared for himself.

Unacceptable. 

After all - what relief had been provided to Vahalia when she was under Ichiro’s care? When they had been preparing to sell her? 

The first punch to the man’s jaw had been delivered and there’d been no fanfare, no dramatic talk as Osric walked over and reached up, applying enough force to break one of Ichiro’s fingers, glaring down as the other man screamed in pain. 

“It’s not fun to be on the receiving end, is it? 

He’d received no response, only more whimpering and more chittering of teeth.

That had been ten fingers and two knees ago. The cold was beginning to set in - he could see Ichiro beginning to slow, and it wasn’t enough. His suffering wasn’t enough. 

Osric kept replaying the description Vahalia had given of what she had been through…the knowledge he had of the attack on Valeria - the woman had been unconscious for months now, the lasting consequences unknown, and these women were to be his family…his family. What would he have done had Edalene been the one attacked, rather than Valeria? If she’d been the one captured rather than Vahalia?

He had promised Vahalia this man’s screams and his suffering, and he would deliver no less.

Osric turned, picking up the hunting knife and sheathing it at his waist once again before putting out the fire - though with the weather the way it was, it would look as though no one had been there come the next day regardless. He slung the pathetic excuse of a man over his shoulder and lept from the tower they’d been on top of down to the canyon nearby, the whipping winds masking any sounds he made as he landed. 

He tossed Ichiro to the ground knowing that what lay beyond the edge was the abyss, nothing but emptiness…but what lay in the opposite direction were prowling monsters looking for easy prey in the middle of a blizzard when prey was in short supply. He walked over, kicking Ichiro onto his back as he pulled his hunting knife from his belt and knelt down.

“Listen and listen well, because I’m only going to say this once. I grow tired of this game and I’ve no intention of freezing to death out here. I’ve already come close to it once, I’ve no intention of giving it a second shot. You, however, are going to die out here tonight. The question is simply how.”

He pointed over towards the edge of the cliff. “That is your way out. Simply crawl to the edge, fall off, and it’s over.”

In quick succession he reached up and cut loose the bindings that held the mans hands and then cut three quick lacerations across the man’s mid-section to mimic those of the animals he knew prowled the area, blood quickly pooling around Ichiro as he screamed. 

“And here we have our complicating factor, because you see that’s going to draw attention of some of the monsters and animals in the area…blizzards are terrible for hunting and I’m afraid  they may be in search of easy prey. Let’s see if you can find the edge before they find you, hm?”

He took a moment, wiping the blood on Ichiro’s tattered clothing, ignoring the man’s pleas and screams as he took a step back, careful to keep from getting blood on his boots and lept up to a nearby, well-hidden cliff, pulling his cloak around him tightly to watch and wait. 

It didn’t take long, between the wailing and the blood, even the blizzard couldn’t keep the animals at bay. Osric saw the pack of wolves approach well before Ichiro did.

Appropriate.

Ichiro tried to pull himself towards the edge of the cliff, tried to scramble and find an easy way out of his suffering, but between the dislocated shoulders, the broken fingers and hands, and the injured knees, his movement was minimal and as much as he flailed, all it did was draw more attention to him.

The wolves circled, and Osric heard a low snarl before the first lept and it was mere minutes before the screaming stopped and the only sounds that remained were that of the howling wolves and that of the wind. 

Slowly, gradually the wolves dispersed, and once he was sure they were gone Osric climbed down, making sure there was no trace of Ichiro that remained before finding his way from the canyon and making his way home, one thought still lingering in the back of his mind.

No matter what suffering the man had endured, it still was far less than what he deserved.

Mentions - @umbral-flare-ffxiv / @spirit-speaking

[lothricknightgirl]

Greetings! Grüße! Здравствуйте! Hola! Hej!

Hallo! :D

This is my introduction post. If ya feel like it, please read through.

NAMES LIST HAS BEEN FIXED FOR NOW, but be aware that it will most likely break again in the near future.

EDIT: So, about the names list. Every time I update it, the link breaks, and I have to go back and fix it. At this point, it's just annoying and tedious trying to backtrack it every time I change my username, so, I hereby declare it a graveyard for faces past. Make of it what you will.

I'm Bis, or Bucket, but you can call me by my account shorthand if it pleases you.

I go by She/Her or He/Him but I lean heavily towards She/her.

I am in many, many, MANY fandoms, and my interests tend to switch rapidly and without warning. I reblog a lot, and I will flood your dash with whatever and be totally unrepentant.

If you're going to follow me, please be aware that I don't, can't, and won't remember to tag everything for triggers. You're responsible for your experience here, but I absolutely will not, under any circumstances, go out of my way to worsen it or trigger you on purpose.

I block easily and with little consideration. I won't hound you down either if you block me, for any reason. Your reasons are your own, and I respect your decision. I expect you to extend me the same courtesy.

My age is Don't Ask, I live in the US and I'm not saying where, I am online whenever I feel like it and that is not all the time. I have hard boundaries and if they're crossed, instant block. No ifs, ands, buts or whys, straight block.

I only speak english, sorry to say, but I am making a tiny effort to learn at least a few words in others.

I have Many, Many, Many usernames and change them rapidly with little warning. If you need the list, it's >>>right here<;<<. If you see an unfamiliar name on dash, it's best to just assume it's me.

The names list also doubles as a fandom tag, so use that to see whatever I'm in.

I don't have dedicated fandom tags, but I do have infrequently used blorbo tags, but they aren't featured.

I will, under no circumstances, interact with the harry potter fandom or J.K Rowling or her works. Her work is beyond bigoted, she is beyond bigoted, her fanbase feeds into it and refuses to stop, and she uses her fame to actively ruin jewish and trans lives with a massive terf following. I block if I see it on dash on sight.

As this is a showerfam blog, I am wont to RP whenever I feel like it, but I have a tendency to forget about it, so please, be patient with me.

That's all I got for now.

Fair tides and warm winds out there mate, good hunting! :D

[uni-seahorse-572]

turns out the cure for my writer's block was fanfic about a movie that doesn't exist

disclaimer: Goncharov is not and has never been a real movie, but instead one based on a misspelling on a shoe tag that spiraled further thanks to tumblr creating a strange canon mashup. Whenever I refer to it as though it is real, it's part of the collective Goncharov bit

this is the missing tale of what Katya was doing the morning the betrayals went down, because we never did see where she was. anyway. dedicated to everyone who watched Goncharov and was stricken with sorrow at the shocking dearth of women kissing

~

The morning Katya betrays him, she wakes up with Goncharov lying beside her in bed, one arm tossed around her waist. Given the years of marriage between them, this should not be unusual in itself, but in practice it’s been months since she’s slept next to him. He doesn’t ask where she goes in the night anymore, and she extends the same courtesy, but she’s the one who’s been trying at the very least. She hasn’t taken a lover since they said their vows. She cooks for them, or at least she has their help only do part of the work. It’s not her fault. She was never supposed to be a housewife, was never born into a line of small women living small lives.

Katya eases her way out of the covers. His arm flops downward onto her residual warmth, but he won’t wake. Goncharov sleeps like the dead.

Like she would any other morning, she powders her face and curls the ends of her hair as though she expects a socialite party instead of a shootout down in the worse part of town. The one concession she makes is to don her crimson dress, the one that hugs her hips and exposes the hollows of her throat… she’s felled many a man in this dress, one way or another. Tonight, when the blood flows, she will remain pristine in red.

~

The coffee shop on the promenade isn’t the type Katya would usually frequent—too dingy, too dull, no guarantee that the servers have washed their hands of grime. You’d think she’d be used to unpleasant places after so many years entangled with organized crimes, yet she remains an aristocrat at heart.

The first time she’d taken her coffee here, it had no milk, no sugar, and it was hours after midnight as she clawed the last of the blood flakes from beneath her fingernails. She’d gagged at the bitterness that hit the back of her throat, and Sofia, a stranger then—one table over with ink dotting her hands, had suggested she try something she could handle. Since then Katya has ordered a black coffee every time she’s sojourned on these sticky seats.

No one sets the terms for these meetings. No one sets the times. More often than not, Sofia cannot sleep, and so instead ventures here from her boarding house down the street. When Katya heard that the first time, she’d said it’s dangerous here, this late.

Sofia had just laughed. From you and your ilk? It poses no danger to a woman such as you.

What Katya hadn’t said then, and might not ever, was that Sofia was a very different sort of woman. Not in a way easy to name either, for she was as unflinching in any circumstance and as loose in morals and loyalties. Yet she hadn’t been raised to think the world was hers. Where Katya cloaked herself in beauty, hiding every darker thought with the pearls draped around her neck and the subtle red of her lipstick—her weapons strapped to her thigh and her words twice as sharp, Sofia was a wilder thing. She had no qualms with dashing about Naples in garb more suited to a man, refusing to be beholden to anything other than herself.

The doorway chimes. There’s Sofia, at last. Her chestnut hair lies half-tangled down her back, barely restrained by her hat. Her heavy blue coat hides her form neatly and sweeps nearly to her knees

Katya raises her mug in greeting.

Though Sofia notices her immediately, she takes her time. She orders her own drink at the counter and waits for it there. One leg bounces, clad in tight pants tucked into her boots.

Today Katya has chosen the territory, claimed it first, one of the coffee shop’s corners where shadow hides most of her face thanks to the broken lightbulb directly above. Sofia settles down across from her, plunking down her cup on its saucer and a thick slice of ciambella. She takes her coffee with only a dash of cinnamon, no cream, but she never grimaces at the taste.

“You had a productive night, I see,” Katya says mildly, nodding to the black stains that coat Sofia’s fingers. Here she needn’t bother with pleasantries.

Sofia is a writer, mostly a poet. She’ll never make anything of it. Not with her lack of a family name with any repute, not with the cold facts of her life and how she must squeeze it into the scant hours after she gets off work. She prefers the old-fashioned quill and ink. Katya is under the firm belief that if one is insistent on remaining so antiquated, they should at least be able to avoid making a mess of their skin and workspace. “It tends to help to have a muse.” Sofia shrugs. The way she can say such things so casually will be astounding no matter how many times she does it.

Katya will miss her, once this is over. Naples has swallowed them all whole and she’ll cut her own way out of the city’s stomach if it kills her. She’ll leave the rest of them to rot. Theses demons will only die if she does it herself. The chill of the gun beneath her dress burns.

“You will have to show me your work sometime.” She takes a long draught of her drink. It warms her to the bone.

“I doubt it would suit your tastes. I’m no Pushkin.” Sofia takes the ciambella in her hand, breaking off a piece and offering it out. To Katya’s surprise, she brings it directly to her lips, Sofia’s fingertips brushing against her mouth. The cake sits heavy in her stomach but sweet on her tongue.

Slowly, she reaches out to return the favor. Sofia catches her wrist gently as she takes the offered bite. They stay there, in a holding position, and Katya catches herself thinking of everything they might have been. The clock chimes. “I expect I’d rather read Sofia of Naples’ pieces over his.” Perhaps, she considers, she’d be able to convince Sofia to let her finally peruse them if she had just one more week in this city. It is what it is. “You are doing well, yes? Does Andrey still have you keeping tabs on Morelli?”

The day she’d learned that Sofia, the one person in her life untouched by the violence that seemed to orbit around her, had been working with her husband’s mafia all along had nearly broken her. Sofia did it for money. For power. For the thrill of it, too, the way her eyes lit up when she sank deeper into the tangled web they’d all woven together. “Do stop worrying,” Sofia says, giving Katya’s hand a gentle squeeze. “He does, yes, and I’m afraid it only goes deeper.”

Katya wonders how much she knows. There was a time when she had so many contacts under her thumb that she could have told you exactly what everyone in St. Petersburg was thinking at a given time, but since coming here she’s had to rebuild. Perhaps if she had the same connections here they wouldn’t be in this mess. Instead, she’d been forced to turn to Goncharov’s rivals for information about why her brother had traveled to Italy and make her dreadful promises. But she isn’t doing this for the sake of the word she’d given her enemies. She’d have no qualms breaking that. Her world has been fractured for longer than she’d care to admit, and Goncharov has always been the source of the break. Removing him from the equation… now that will be the way to finally heal.

Her husband is a slippery man. Nevertheless, even he couldn’t find a way out of this trap. He’d trusted the wrong people. He’d trusted his own wife and his supposed right-hand man and maybe-lover, and look where that’s about to land him.

Sofia’s sad smile says more than her speech. “Care to withdraw to somewhere more private?” she asks, and Katya is as ever helpless to resist her. They rise from their seats and leave a generous tip. There’s money to burn now.

There’s a narrow alley by the coffee shop. There was a Katya once who’d have scoffed at the very idea of setting foot in such a place, until she met a woman worth rending the earth to pieces for. They have their routines here—one: Sofia acts first.

It was here that Sofia made clear what manner of person she is. You see it best in how she kisses. Hard and fast, taking every ounce of control she can wrestle away. Lips tender with the raw flesh where she’d chewed them and breath catching hot.

Her hands come up to seize Katya by the back of her neck, a bare shoulder. She doesn’t touch Katya like anyone else who’s ever touched her, like a beautiful, precious thing, something to have and something to protect and something to fear breaking. No, Sofia matches sharpness with sharpness. She holds her as though trying to meld them into one.

It gives Katya ten times the heady rush of power from gleaning such worship from a man. This is nothing sacred. They kiss and it’s the two of them chasing understanding in the other’s lips. Never the clash of violence she’s always known. Katya tips her chin back, pushing herself up onto her toes to better match Sofia’s height and giving as good as she gets as she rakes her nails down that blue coat. There’s no cold to be found out here with how close they’re pressed together.

Fine. So maybe Katya half-lied when she claimed to have never taken a lover, but she puts no stock in truth’s virtue. Besides, she’s never taken anyone, not even Sofia, into her bed. That’s as faithful as she has the capacity to be.

A clock chimes again. Sofia draws back, cheeks flushed. “I must go,” she says. Her fingers are curled around Katya’s cheeks, and her mouth is stained with secondhand lipstick.

Katya doesn’t crumple inward. Doesn’t dwell on what that means for this moment: it is to be their last together.

There’s so much she ought to say. An I love you sits ready on her tongue for the first time in her life, unmarred by being offered to any other. If she was a different sort of woman, she would say it now. There isn’t enough time to become that person. There isn’t time at all.

Tonight will be her last in Naples.

“I bid you well,” she says. It rings hollow.

Sofia—the love of her life who’ll never know it, the indomitable force who can stare down old money and mafia men in ill-fitting trousers, the poet by late night excursions and the only person who could make her stay—strides away, marking the first and most irrational time Katya has ever been betrayed.

[glorytv]

you are now watching taewootv.

kim mingyu, twenty6, cis male, he/him.  ───  3, 2, 1 — action!  everyone, we’re here at jincheon national training center, and this time i have with me our national swimming team’s very own kang taewoo. you might know them for winning a gold medal in men's 200 m freestyle at the 2022 asian games, but if not, don’t worry. they’re here to field all your burning questions. let’s dive right in.

thanks for joining us today. so, tell me…

how do you stay motivated and focused on your goals as a member of the national team?

i remember why i’m here and what i went through to get where i am. it is such an incredible chance many won’t have but one i’ve been granted and i am not going to waste it. our team is very united too,  we have such a good vibe. everyone is helpful, always ready to lend a hand when one needs it. so much drive and passion! very playful too, we have a lot of fun during practice, maybe too much… coach gets mad sometimes- but we always have our eyes set on those medals, of course.

what strengths do you believe you bring to the national team?

i am speed. ( he manages to stifle a snort, but a proud grin tugs at his lips ) seriously, i’m very fast. didn't you see me last year? sprinted ahead, leaving everyone behind. ( now a scoff escapes him as he crosses his arms over his chest, straightening his posture ) on a more serious note, i think it’s my ability to adapt quickly to different races and strokes. i’m very confident too and i really thrive under pressure somehow. when i'm in the water, nothing else matters. i’m only focused on my performance, i want nothing more than to win.

amazing. addressing a sensitive issue now: the rumors on “105fm.” could you shed some light on any concerning rumors you’ve heard about yourself?

i would like to set the record straight about one thing: i am not dating (teammate)’s girlfriend. i'm aware of my reputation but i would never betray a friend like that. the reason why we were out together that day was for his birthday, we were planning a surprise party and went out to pick a gift. it's frustrating, though, how easily people fall for these baseless rumors, especially given my reputation. it's like they're just waiting for any opportunity to paint me in a negative light. i would never do anything to jeopardize a teammate's trust or relationship.

  … and, i’m sure your supporters want to hear your thoughts.

how do you ensure 105fm doesn’t affect your relationships with teammates and fellow athletes?

we’re pretty tight. usually when a rumor drops about one of us, we’re pretty quick to address it. my teammates know me, i see them more than my own father now. they know what kind of person i am and know i’m  not what 105fm makes me out to be. most of the time we laugh at these posts, except when they obviously try to mess up with our dynamic. as for other fellow athletes.. i can feel the judgment sometimes but i wish they would give me the opportunity to prove myself, just as i extend that same courtesy to them, rather than immediately believing any rumor they read or hear. ( he lets out a sigh ) i refuse to let it get to me. i know who i am, and i know the values i stand for.

i see, i see. i’m afraid that’s all the time we have. thank you so much, congratulations, and best of luck to you and your team. to wrap things up, can you give us a quote?

 “i decide when i'm done.”

writer info: noir, 24+, she/her, cet

[thelonesomequeen]

I respect that you and Maddy have spoken and have reached an understanding. However, as a reader and supporter of your blog I find it very disappointing that you would apologize to Maddy - who spent months infusing the fandom with toxic behavior and ideas - and not extend the same courtesy to your readers. It comes across as a new clique. Maddy continues to exhibit the same toxic behavior now that she is on the TemaReal/ fan side. She is one of the accounts who has acted and spoke in the most misogynistic ways and has now been rewarded with your support publicly and privately. The apologies given are all vague and don’t really acknowledge the harm.

There was literally an apology issued within that post in two places. There have also been other instances over the last couple of months in which we’ve apologized for other things or explained our thought process behind them.

We can apologize for things and explain all we want, but it’s up to each individual person whether they want to accept it or not. That’s their choice to issue forgiveness or not. Forgiveness is not expected just because an apology is issued. I will say that first and foremost. But there are also those of you out there who refuse to accept anything outside of us going back in time and rewriting history and that’s something we’re not able to do.

We’ve explained our side and taken accountability. But there are also plenty of other people who need to do that too. There are plenty of other blogs who egged on drama behind the scenes and plenty of anons who did it too by running to asks boxes with screenshots of posts or “did you see this” and messages like that. So yes, while we can own and apologize that we’ve been a part of the toxicity in the fandom, it is false to insinuate we are responsible for ALL of it and it’s naive to think as much.

We are not part of a clique. We never have been and never will be. Talking to someone doesn’t mean you’re in a clique. It simply means you agree with a post. If there’s anyone “forming cliques” it’s the people who ostracize others simply because a specific person may have liked or reblogged their post. Also in the post is something that clearly says we don’t always agree with her posts just like she doesn’t always agree with ours. But it’s everyone’s business to run their page as they please, just like everyone’s choice in what blogs they want to follow or interact with.

We can’t go back and undo the past. All we can do is apologize for our role in some things that have happened in the past and try to move forward.

[seekfirst-community]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2023. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: If a true "friend loves at all times"(Proverbs 17:17), why did Jesus delay in coming to Lazarus' home when he knew that his friend was gravely ill? Jesus certainly loved Lazarus and his two sisters and he often stayed in their home at Bethany. But to the surprise of his friends and disciples, Jesus did not go right away to Bethany when he was called. Jesus explained that Lazarus' sickness would bring glory to God. The glory which Jesus had in mind, however, was connected with suffering and the cross. He saw the cross as his supreme glory and the way to glory in the kingdom of God. For Jesus there was no other way to glory except through the cross.

Jesus also knew that it was dangerous for him to travel anywhere near Jerusalem at this time, since the religious authorities in Jerusalem were plotting his destruction. Jesus, however, was willing to pay the price to help his friend. For Jesus to come to Jerusalem at Passover time was an act of courage. The explanation which Jesus gave to his disciples was simple and challenging at the same time. "Are there not twelve hours in the day?" In so many words he said: "There are enough hours in the day to do what one must do." A day can neither be rushed nor extended. Its period is fixed.

Courage to act in the light of God's truth

In God's economy we each have our "day" whether it be short or long. While time is limited, there is enough for us to accomplish what God intends. God gives each of us our allotted portion in life. We can either waste it or use it to the utmost for God's glory. Jesus did not let circumstances or pressure dictate what he would do. Nor did he permit others to dictate his actions or timetable. He took action of his own initiative and in his good time. Don't we often try to get God to do things in our way and on our timetable?

Both the Romans and the Jews divided the day into twelve equal hours from sunrise to sunset. The day's work and travel, however, ceased when the daylight was gone. If someone wanted to get their day's work done, he had to do it before it got dark. Jesus made a spiritual analogy with our relationship with God. While the light of Christ is with us, we must live and walk in the truth and grace of his light. There's a right time to make peace with God, and that time is now. When darkness comes, then judgment follows for those who refuse God and spurn his love.

When Jesus announced that Lazarus was dead and that he was going to Jerusalem, Thomas showed both his courage and pessimism. "Let us go, that we may die with him." This courage, however, was not tempered with faith and hope in God's promise to bring victory out of defeat. Even though Thomas was a witness to Lazarus' resurrection, he betrayed his master when arrest and death stared him in the face. He doubted his master's resurrection until Jesus showed him the wounds of his passion. God gives us faith, courage, and the strength we need to persevere through any trial and suffering we must face in this life. If we embrace our cross with faith and trust in God, then we, too, will see victory and glory in the end.

The hope of our resurrection

What is the significance of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead? It is more than a miraculous event. It is a "sign" of God's promise to raise up all who have died in Christ to everlasting life. That is why Jesus asked Martha if she believed in the resurrection from the dead. The Christian creed, which is the profession of our faith in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and in the saving power of God, culminates in the proclamation of the resurrection of the dead on the last day and in life everlasting. This is our faith and our hope.

"If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you" (Romans 8:11).

God gives us the power of his Holy Spirit that we may be made alive in Christ. Even now we can experience the power of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus in our personal lives. The Holy Spirit is ever ready to change and transform us into men and women of faith, hope, and love. Do you believe that the power of Jesus' resurrection is at work in your life today? Let the Holy Spirit strengthen within you the life and joy of God and the hope of heaven.

God is my help

The name Lazarus means "God is my help". Jesus' parable about the poor man Lazarus, who died and was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom (Luke 16:19-31), ends with a warning: "If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if some one should rise from the dead." Through Lazarus' sickness and subsequent death, God brought glory through his Son the Lord Jesus, who raised his friend from the dead in anticipation of his own death and resurrection. Our participation in the Lord's Supper in the Eucharist already gives us a foretaste of Jesus' transfiguration of our bodies.

Irenaeus, a second century church father states:

"Just as bread that comes from the earth, after God's blessing has been invoked upon it, is no longer ordinary bread, but Eucharist, formed of two things, the one earthly and the other heavenly: so too our bodies, which partake of the Eucharist, are no longer corruptible, but possess the hope of resurrection"(Adv. Haeres. 4,18).

Psalm 27 ends with the great prayer of hope in the resurrection:

"I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord!"

Do you find joy and hope in the resurrection of Jesus Christ?

"Lord Jesus Christ, you have ransomed us with your blood and restored us to life with the Father in heaven. May your resurrection be our hope as we long for the day when we will see you face to face in glory."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2023.

the last word in faith

“Do you believe?” —John 11:26

In two weeks, everyone in the world who goes to Mass on Easter will be challenged to reject Satan, all his works, and all his empty promises. We reject Satan because we believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit guides us to all truth (Jn 16:13), including faith in “the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting.” The last word in the great renewal of the baptismal promises is “the resurrection of the body and life everlasting.”

In two weeks, Jesus is going to say to us as He said to St. Martha: “I am the Resurrection and the Life” (Jn 11:25). He will ask us: “Do you believe this?” (Jn 11:26) By God’s grace, we will be able to answer: “Yes, Lord...I have come to believe that You are the Messiah, the Son of God” (Jn 11:27). If we believe Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of God, we believe He is the Resurrection and the Life, Who will open our graves (Ez 37:12), raise our bodies from the dead, and give us life everlasting.

Fix your eyes on the risen Son (see Heb 12:2). See Jesus dying on the cross, and rising from the dead. Jesus, Who raised Lazarus from the dead, will give us the faith to believe in Him, renew our baptismal promises, and thereby rise from the dead to life everlasting.

Prayer:  Father, whatever it takes, increase my faith greatly in the next two weeks.

Promise:  “If the Spirit of Him Who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then He Who raised Christ from the dead will bring your mortal bodies to life also, through His Spirit dwelling in you.” —Rm 8:11

Praise:  “I wish to know Christ and the power flowing from His resurrection; likewise to know how to share in His sufferings by being formed into the pattern of His death” (Phil 3:10).

Reference:  

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for the publication One Bread, One Body covering the time period from February 1, 2023 through March 31, 2023. Reverend Steve J. Angi, Chancellor, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio June 15, 2022"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[themintycupcake]

UGH my sister decided to start feuding with our dad, which subsequently results in her feuding with the rest of us. She gets into this phase on and off where she gets upset that dad doesn't visit her enough. But instead of just talking to him about it like a mature adult, she sends him pissed off text messages about it. At this point, she should know that this kind of thing just makes him stop wanting to talk to her at all. My mom says that it has nothing to do with me, but I'm highly inclined to disagree. She basically started this shit because she found out that dad finally visited my new apartment for the first time and was absolutely furious. And it's like... first of all, we literally just went through a deadly pandemic that isn't even really over yet. No one was visiting anyone. Second of all, she moved out of state 25 years ago while married. She has her husband, her kids, her new son-in-law, her friends, and her mom visits her every other week. When I moved out of state, it was just after the aforementioned deadly pandemic was underway. I'm alone out here, no family, no friends, can't even see coworkers at the office. My mom visits me (or I visit them) maybe every other month. But God fucking forbid that father come to see me before he sees her this summer. Jail for father. Jail for 1000 years.