#naiver

[lauraagrace]

I am SO excited the release of volume six of The Remarried Empress is OUT! 🤩🤩🤩

I love love love this manhwa from @yenpress so much! I'm usually not into political drama, but I NEED to see our Queen be the happiest woman in the world bc she deserves all the happiness and joy!

[bianca-alexander88]

Naïve realism refers to the human tendency to believe that we see the world around us objectively. We assume that other reasonable people see things the same way we do and that anyone who disagrees with our perspective is uninformed, irrational, or biased. This cognitive bias relates to the false consensus effect that occurs when we overestimate the number of other people who share our attitudes, beliefs and behaviours. 

Naïve realism and the false consensus effect are both forms of wishful social thinking that we unconsciously rely upon to reassure ourselves that most people will accept and agree with us. 

[rivensoerthe]

Asked ChatGPT to answer the question "Is Reality What It Seems?" in the voice of Wendy Williams and got the following answer!

Sure, here's an attempt to present these philosophical and scientific theories in a style reminiscent of Wendy Williams, the television host known for her lively and gossipy style.

Naive Realism: Okay, so first we got Naive Realism. Now, darling, this is as straightforward as it gets. This is like when you see a hotdog and you think, it's just a hotdog. No secret ingredients, no hidden calories. Naive Realism is saying what you see is what you get.

Representationalism: Now, let's spill some tea with Representationalism, honey. Think of your favorite celebrity's Instagram. You know, the perfect makeup, the glamorous outfits, the exotic vacations. But behind the scenes, it ain't all that perfect. That's what Representationalism is saying about reality. We see the Insta-version, honey, not the behind-the-scenes mess.

Idealism: Next up is Idealism, sweethearts. Imagine this – you're dreaming about Channing Tatum, and you wake up feeling all good because for a moment, that was your reality. Idealism is suggesting that the world is like that dream. It's what your mind makes of it.

Phenomenalism: Then we got Phenomenalism. This is like going to one of those 3D art museums where everything is a flat painting but looks like it's popping out of the wall. According to Phenomenalism, things only exist as you perceive them. It's all about that perspective, darling!

Quantum Physics: Oh, here comes the big one – Quantum Physics! So you know Schrodinger's cat? This kitty is both alive and dead until you open the box and take a peek. Until then, everything's possible. It's like those ambiguous texts from your man. You don't know if it's a break-up text or he's just hangry until you actually meet him.

Simulation Theory: Last but not least, we have the Simulation Theory. This is like saying we're all just characters in a super high-tech version of The Sims, controlled by some uber-advanced civilization. So next time you find yourself standing in the kitchen wondering why you're there, you know who to blame!

So, my lovelies, that's your dose of reality, or should I say, realities! Ain't it just a fabulous mess?

[ystrike1]

Remarried Empress - By Alphatart (9.5/10)

I've waited a long, long time for this. I'm not sure if this review will offend anyone, but here I go. I am not insinuating that Remarried Empress is a traditional yandere story. Obsession is not the focus. Especially not during the first season, but longtime readers know the drama eventually boils over. Delusion, denial, and love all clash during the fabulous finale. The line between villain and hero blurs in a beautiful way halfway through the story.

Spoilers for everything (I mean it) ahead!!!

Remarried Empress is well known for its seamless magic integration. Fantasy webtoons are infamous for clunky, wordy spellcasting systems and magic schools with zero charm.

That is not the case here.

Magic is a plot point that has little to no relevance during the first quarter of the story. We get hints. The issue grows. We get drama from the very beginning, from the perspective of a powerful woman trapped in a toxic marriage. The woman in question is the Empress, Navier, who has no magic whatsoever. Magic is an important political power tool. It doesn't magically make you more important. Lots of badly written stories love to give their protagonists fantastical magical powers, as if that power gives you the ability to rule.

This is not the case here.

Navier gains magical powers at the very end of the story. It is part of her happy ending. It is not the reason why she is successful in her political endeavors. Navier loves ruling. She was raised for it, and uprooting corruption gives her joy. Drama and sparkles are not her source of power. She is a borne and true politician who recognizes that the nobility cannot prosper without happy, healthy common people. She receives magic when her duplicitous and extremely loving husband decides she is worthy of it. It's sort of a wedding gift. Yes, it's a very morally dubious part of the story. The magic imbuing process starts without her permission.

(I won't spoil all the details. Don't be too mad at Heinrey.)

Navier is from the Trovi family. Her family line has produced multiple Eastern Empire ex-Empresses. Magic is on the decline. The Eastern Empire has less active wizards than ever before, and they can't figure out why. Luckily the nation has a steady Empress and Emperor to rely on. Naiver and Sovieshu have a good relationship. She loves him more than he loves her. They mostly live separate lives. They don't even eat together every day, because they are both so busy, but Navier trusts Sovieshu. They were raised together as children. The priest who married them thought they would be different. A rare, happy royal couple.

Souvieshu ruins that lifelong relationship when we brings in a runaway slave. The lovely young woman, Rashta, got caught in one of the Emperors animal traps! How awful! He takes responsibility for the terrible accident. He carries her to the doctor on horseback the way any decent man would.

He almost immediately makes her his Official Mistress. There is a formal title, as mistresses are common for Emperors. Naiver has to go through a humiliating process. She has to welcome, and give a spending allowance to, the woman her beloved husband is sleeping with. She even has to throw parties for the woman her husband is currently spoiling instead of her.

Ouch.

(Yes. You are correct. It is revealed later that the accident was no accident. Rashta jumped in harms way in a desperate attempt to escape her shackles as a slave. A slave who had a bastard child with her owners son. When said son decided he didn't want to lower himself and marry her Rashta dolled herself up. She ran into the royal woods looking gorgeous on purpose. She would have been a cool protagonist, in another life, but she's just not tough enough to survive royal intrigue. In her desperation she loses everything. It does sound tragic, until you get to know her. Rashta is a child abusing, bloodthirsty, narcissistic tattle-tale by the end of her story. I'm sure you can guess how it ends.)

Throughout season one we see how integral the Empress is to the East. At first it seems like everyone favors the Emperor, but things are not what they seem. Empress Navier runs a tight ship. She doesn't need to be babied like Souvieshu. A gap slowly begins to grow between them. His incompetence starts to shine bright when he lashes out at his Empress. He blames her for every little problem his Mistress encounters. Including the problems Rashta makes up to cause unnecessary drama. Rashta makes little mistakes that pile up over time. Her allies aren't very strong, and she is never honest with anyone. She talks like a cute idiot on purpose, but that backfires when she can't find a teacher willing to put up with her as a result. She can't catch up to Navier. A genius couldn't. Navier has been privy to national secrets since her youth. Trying to catch up on that much reading...just isn't possible for a regular, but gorgeous, slave. Also, Rashta is desperately hiding her slave status. Rashta starts to copy Navier in obvious ways, and Navier is refreshingly human about it. She hates it. She tells Rashta to learn on her own, and she isn't always diplomatic about it. Her complaints push her into an intimate but platonic friendship with the Prince of the Western Kingdom, Heinrey.

Heinrey has a special kind of magic. He can turn into a bird. He uses his bird form as an excuse to stick close to Navier, because he's carrying a MASSIVE torch for her. It is not just a crush. He's bitter about being younger than her. If they were the same age he would have gotten the chance to woo her, but Souvieshu was the most convenient and familiar choice for her family. Navier was a couple years out of his reach. He thought he would have to sulk about losing the chance to have her forever, but then Souvieshu stirs the pot. Sidenote Souvieshu is very insecure. He expects his Empress to love him over everything. He got upset when Navier...you know...did her job well. He wanted his wife to be drooling over him constantly or something. It's weird. He is also quite sexist. This becomes more obvious as the story goes on. He treats Rashta like an object, and he loses interest in her after less than a year. That's suspiciously fast. He is only using Rashta to satisfy his craving for cute attention. It's quite pathetic. They both are.

Anyway moving on.

Heinrey "visits on diplomatic business", but in reality he's planning to take over the East. Yeah. That's something. The writing is really on another level. I had no clue whatsoever until later on. He also stole the magic by the way. Yeah. Heinrey is the reason why their magicians just can't cast anymore. An adorable young student despairs before the Empress about her crushed dreams in tears. All while Heinrey is just standing there, in the background, completely aware of the fact that he is the cause of her suffering.

He's a pretty scary guy.

Navier eventually agrees to flee the country and marry him.

Rashta's lies leave no other choice for her. Rashta falls pregnant. Navier has never been pregnant. As the woman, she has always received the blame. Cough. Sexism. Cough. Souvieshu is actually infertile due to a childhood accident. He, of course, is completely convinced that Navier is the infertile one. Rashta is carrying another baby that belongs to her masters son. She is willing to put an illegitimate child on the throne to get power, because she doesn't know any better. There are certain things peasants just don't know. A magical paternity test exists. It involves droplets of blood and a mixture of special water. After Rashta gives birth to a child that looks nothing like Souvieshu he gets wise. Souvieshu makes Rashta Empress (temporarily) for the sake of "his" child. He always intended to remove Rashta from the Empress seat, as soon as "his" child was seen as legitimate by the court of law. His callous attitude is what convinces Navier to leave. She has always loved her husband. She loved him more than she thought she did. She put up with real pain to support him, but he decided to remove her from her Empress seat. She didn't know he graciously planned to take her back after the divorce, but it doesn't matter.

The incident proves he never respected her, so she leaves with Heinrey to become the Western Queen.

The West isn't really as powerful as an Empire yet, but oh! Wait! As soon as Navier is crowned and by his side Heinrey proclaims that the Kingdom is an Empire now.

How convenient!

Heinrey is pretty and morally grey, but he is a good husband. He worships the ground Navier walks on. When rumors about her infertility start spreading he does not give a crap. He has ways to fix the issue if it's true, and if she's actually not the infertile one he's ready to kill whoever started the story. His bird form is cute enough to be a marketable plushy. It's shitty that he lied about being a bird for the entire first season, but Navier needed comfort. He provided it how he could. As a pet. Yes I know it's weird. Navier wasn't willing to befriend him at first though. He had to use his adorable bird body to bring her guard down!

Wait.

That makes him sound worse...

He's a good husband though.

I swear...

This is Christa. The young dowager Queen of the newly formed Western Empire. Heinrey's sick brother kicked the bucket. Now Heinrey is Emperor and he's brought a foreign Empress home. Slight problem. Christa is in love with Heinrey. She uses a spiked love potion, and a man who is madly in love with Naiver, in an attempt to seduce him and destroy the couple. Christa is pathetic, like Rashta, but she's a little smarter. Her love for Heinrey is the weakness that brings her down. She kills herself after she boldly claims that Heinrey slept with her, in an attempt to become his Mistress. Heinrey produces proof that the affair doesn't exist...and Christa doesn't recover mentally.

Fair warning.

Remarried Empress gets darker and darker until the ending.

Heinrey throws a party, to celebrate Navier's pregnancy, right after her death.

Suddenly I don't think Heinrey is cute anymore...

This is Grand Duke Kaufman. He falls in love with Navier. He accidentally used a love potion he was experimenting with. It turns out that the potion effects are extra strong when you already have a crush. Kaufman never intended to act on his feelings, but the potion eventually turns him into a madman.

His story ends after he attacks the Empress.

I think you already know how that ending looks.

Rashta ties everything together really well as a villain. She looks like an idiot, but for a commoner who didn't even know how to write she does pretty well. Her idiotic copycat act is a distraction. It cleverly hides the mastermind behind the scenes. Heinrey. Navier had no clue Heinrey was in love with her when she accepted his proposal. She accepted it because she was desperate to rule. She didn’t want to watch Rashta take her place, and Heinrey took advantage of that.

He sweeps her off her feet. They live happily ever after, but the pile of bodies behind them is quite steep.

(Souvieshu realizes he made a mistake as soon as Navier marries Heinrey. He starts drinking heavily. He travels to the West again and again to beg her to take him back. He quietly goes insane and he eventually loses his memories. He lives on thinking Navier is still his fiance, and everything is the way it used to be. Navier will always love him. That's his drunken dream. When his memories return he begs yet again and he says he'll accept Heinrey's children as his own, because they have her blood. Her goes seriously insane in six different ways. He also basically forgets Rashta ever existed.)

[annestie]

Mercy

The elders in Ao’nung’s clan always said that losing one’s mate is as terrible as death. He used to believe them when he was younger and naiver. He thought it was that simple.

However, living through it now, Ao'nung knows it isn’t. It’s worse. For at least death would have a little mercy in it.

[blues824]

Now introducing female rook in the remarried empress.

🏹She came in to the castle after acedently hunting sovieshit and now he being the one stuck in the bear trap this time .

✨At first he wanted to punish the person who placed the bear trap when a beautiful woman with a thick French accent jump from a tree to apologise.

🏹And then after seeing and getting get taken care of he invited her in the castle but after seeing navier she started treating navier as the new Vil (being her loyal spy )

✨Totally not her writing novels of poetry to navier and telling her endless complements about how elegant and beautiful navier is and her just being there for navier in her difficult time.

🏹I see her and navier having full of conversations in French around rattrash and other people because we Stan smart women.

✨Her almost hunting qween (and navier and heinley almost having a heart attack )

An navier just stopping her in time.

🏹Imagen people knowing her for her infamous stealth even thought she always wears the most visible clothes and she can hide and appear out of nowhere.

✨Remember when rattrash followed navier to copy her well the rook reader was watching from a distance and only appeared after navier told rattrash not to follow her scaring most of the ladies.

Sovieshu almost ordered you to be put to death, but upon seeing how beautiful you were he changed his mind. Mans was absolutely smitten, especially when you showed great concern about him being caught in the bear trap. You helped him to the castle where you saw Navier.

The Emperor noticed how you seemed more occupied with his wife, and he felt the claws of envy dig its claws into him. He thought that he was more deserving of your love and affection since he is the one in power. However, you left him to be escorted to the medical wing by Rashta as you bowed to Naiver.

From that day on, he constantly tried to get your attention. He tried speaking in French, he tried writing romantic poems (he hired someone to do it, but he thought it was the same), but nothing worked. You were a servant (and now a lady-in-waiting) for Navier.

Rashta saw you helping Sovieshu into the palace, and she rushed over to take him from your arms while thanking you. That was, until she saw the look of pure love in his eyes, but they were directed at you. Jealousy and anger ran rampant through her mind.

However, she was surprised when she saw you practically worshiping Navier, and she was even more jealous than before. If she had you as her lady-in-waiting, it would put her in a position of power and authority over you and she could fire you so that you never came back to the palace. Unfortunately, you refused to be her servant, and actually applied to be Navier’s servant instead.

Remember that time when she tried to copy Navier? Well, you took notice and (not so) kindly told her to knock it off in French. You gave her such a fright because you just appeared out of nowhere, but she couldn’t use this chance as an opportunity to get you punished because the Emperor was in love with you.

Navier also saw you helping Sovieshu into the palace, but she made no effort to help him to the medical wing. After all, he had his mistress. However, she was worried that you would become another one of his mistresses because of the look in his eyes as he glanced at you.

Her skepticism was forgotten when she saw how low you bowed to her. You were just exclaiming things about how she was the most beautiful person you have ever seen and how she didn’t deserve a dirtbag like Sovieshu (you were able to tell that Rashta was his mistress since it wasn’t exactly a secret). All of this was in French by the way.

She really enjoys your company. Aside from accidentally almost hunting Queen, you were actually a delight. You both had very intellectual conversations in French so that Rashta wouldn’t understand. You’ve become an undercover agent for her when she needed intel on a noble… or Sovieshu. You became a well-known spy, known for having stealth even with your bright clothing. You go, Carmen Sandiego (please tell me you get this joke).

Heinrey learned about you through his letters with Navier. He was surprised at how quickly the Emperor grew attached to you, and he was amused at how you turned him down so that you could wholeheartedly serve Navier. He understood your side though, since he would (and has done) the same thing.

He met you when you almost shot him down with your crossbow. He didn’t even see you in the tree, but he saw you fall out of the tree when the Empress shouted at you to stop. It wasn’t out of anger, but rather worry. Because of your education from Twisted Wonderland, you were able to understand what he was saying. He was glad to know that he had your support in courting and eventually marrying Her Imperial Majesty.

He was the one who proposed that you move to the Western Kingdom, since Navier loved your company and he desired only her happiness. Plus, you did him a huge favor by partaking in some espionage on his behalf, especially when Sovieshu kept them both locked up in the palace. Because of this great duty that you completed to the best of your ability, you became the royal spy in the Western Kingdom.

Bonus: Kosair heard about you in a letter from his younger sister. He was overjoyed to see her doing much better, and it was all thanks to you. He wanted to meet the woman who made Navier much more comfortable with her situation, and when he did he was absolutely smitten.

He asked you to walk with him in the garden, and he absolutely adored the way that words of rhyme and music just rolled off your tongue as though it were normal. The way you delicately held his face in your hands made him forget everything that made him angry (Sovieshu).

When he was exiled, he quickly wrote a letter to you so that you would know he would be in the Western Kingdom waiting for you with a wedding ring. This made you eager, and while Navier and Heinrey were in the presence of the High Priest, you were on your way to your fiance.

[l-3-e]

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN x FEM!VELARYON!READER

Summary: As Rhaenyra’s cousin, you and her grew up together and were always closer than normal cousins were. So when you hear she’s gone on tour to find herself a suitable suitor, you decide to force yourself in the long line of candidates in a way she won’t forget.

Warnings: Cassic Targaryen incest, homophobia, smol angst.

You and your cousin, Rhaenyra, sat under the warming shade of the godswood, hands intertwined as she ranted about her troubles. And being the first female heir to the iron throne, she had many. But you happily listened, cutting in when she needed advice or to answer a question.

You couldn’t focus. Her hands were so very warm, her hair was softer than silk, her lavender eyes burned with fire as she spoke, and her voice was so smooth, you swore you could fall asleep to it.

“Cousin?” She spoke, her eyes peeking up at you from below as if she were awaiting an answer.

“Pardon?” You widened your eyes like you were just caught doing something scandalous, making Rhaenyra chuckle at you and your manners, which were never necessary around her.

“I asked if you were to stay in Kings Landing or leave for Driftmark with your Mother and sister?” Rhaenyra queried, staring hopefully at you, reaching up to fiddle with some of your silver hair. Your father, Corlys Velaryon, had traveled to battle in the Stepstones and your brother Laenor was to fly by dragon to join him in a days time. So your mother, Rhaenys, and sister, Laena, were to travel back home to Driftmark whilst waiting for the men to return.

“I’m not certain” you truthfully answered, a smile creeping on your face as you though for your next words. “Are you to stay in Kings Landing?” You suggestively asked with a cheeky smirk on your lips.

Rhaenyra sighed, dropping her hand from your hair to fiddle with her golden rings. “I am to tour” she spoke so silently you could barely make out her words.

“What?” You nervously laughed, hoping you heard wrong. All your life you knew Rhaenyra and yourself would be married off, but you used to think it’d be to each other. You were younger and naiver then. You sat us from the assortment of pillows protecting your back from the wood of the large tree, making Rhaenyra’s head fall from you lap as she had to sit up herself.

Rhaenyra sat beside you, astonished and nervous. “I am to tour for a suitor” she raised her chin at you, speaking confidently.

You frowned, slumping your shoulders as you hear the words confirmed. You knew you loved Rhaenyra with all your heart, but you couldn’t be around her anymore for it would cause your heart too much pain.

You stood from the blanket, the shade from the tree suddenly feeling suffocating. “Excuse me, Princess” you sourly spat at her, instantly feeling bad about your words. Obviously Rhaenyra didn’t choose to do this, it was all Viserys’ doings, but your couldn’t help but feel betrayed for no good reason.

_

You did end up leaving for Driftmark the next day, not speaking to Rhaenyra since out of shame for your actions and you desperately whished you could take your words back.

You currently sat on the window seat, watching the angry waves of the Gullet crash against the rocks and once again thinking about Rhaenyra. You had asked Laena to keep you up to date on the Princesses journey and if she had found herself courting yet. The answer was always the same; Rhaenyra had not taken any interests in any of the Lords whom presented themselves to her, before she moved onto her next stop where she’d have the exact same reaction as the previous meetings.

Today was the day Laena were to inform you of your beloved cousin, so you sat waiting in anticipation with a bouncing leg and a heavy heart.

A soft knock on your door echoed through your large room, your little sister peeking her head of curly white hair through the crack.

“Sister?” She mumbled, waiting to let herself in—which you told her repeatedly wasn’t needed and she could just enter whenever— and with a gesture of your hand she did, moving to sit beside you. “Cousin Rhaenyra is currently on route for the Vale” Laena knew of her sisters love for their cousin, being the person you went to for a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold, Laena was always there for you and never judged you for your tastes. Laenor was also a loving sibling and cared deeply for you, he also understood more about your troubles as he also had no love for whom he should.

You sighed, resting your hand on your cheek and picked at the ends of your blue skirts. Laena, sensing your disappointment at Rhaenyra’s lengthly return, placed her soft hand on your own and smiled up at you. “The Vale is only a short dragon ride away” she smiled at the sudden hope in your eyes. “I’ll cover for you” She assured, leaning back so you could move.

You jumped up, leaning down to give your sister a tight hug, thinking about how foolish you were to not think of such thing sooner. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, my dear sister” you smiled with glee as Laena chuckled.

You dashed to your drawer, pouching you riding clothes from the neat pile they were set in, hurriedly changing behind a modesty divider. Laena giggled as you left the door open in your path, slipping your boots and gloves on as you dashed through the halls of Driftmark, receiving scolding looks and surprised looks from bystanders.

You almost tumbled down the hill on the way to the dragon keep, passing a sleeping Vhagar and a confused Meleys, who watched you closely as you slowed to approach your dragon, Zaelix, who was a unique pure white and sleeping peacefully in her own space.

“Hello there, girl” you spoke in High Valyrian, holding a hand to her snout, feeling the warm breath as Zaelix exhaled sleepily into your touch. “I know girl. Very sorry to wake you” you rested your head against your dragons white scaled one, feeling her blink as she fully awoke. Opening your eyes, you stared into Zaelix’s bright purple orbs that matched your own. “Nyra awaits” you whispered, eagerly moving to where your dragon saddle sat close by. Zaelix seemed much more awake now, seeming exited herself as she shifted on her feet, waiting impatiently for her rider.

After securing the saddle to Zaelix’s back, you gave her the signal to fly and the white dragon spread its wings and jumped from the edge of Driftmark.

-

In less than an hour, you could see the Eyrie that sat above the clouds in the distance. But more importantly, you could see the Targaryen ships sailing for the shore.

After a command from you, Zaelix dipped so her stomach could almost graze the sea. As you approached, the Targaryen sigil on the sheets swayed frantically and the boats rocked from side to side. With the flap of her wings and a low hum, Zaelix sent the crew on board to their backs.

You peeked behind you, trusting your companion to safely guide to in a direction to land, to spot your cousin who was easily spotted, dressed in red amongst dull grey, staring longingly up at you with a small smile— completely ignoring Ser Cristion’s concerned grip on her arm as the only thing she saw was you. She could recognise that dragon anywhere, remembering the late nights you and her would sneak Zaelix and Syrax from the dragonpit to fly above the world for as long as your dragons could manage. Sometimes you’d stop to rest on a small un-named island that was lined with fields of flowers— which you’d weave into each other’s hair or simply lay together under the stars.

You had arrived at the hall much earlier than Rhaenyra, stalling for time as Lord and Lady Arryn asked you for your visiting reason, to which you made up some nonsense story about needing to deliver a message to your cousin. As if they couldn’t send a raven. Luckily the Arryn’s brought it, allowing you to stay and even offering you a warm meal and some wine while you wait.

Your nerves made your stomach turn so you refused the food but swollowed the wine eagerly in a poor attempt to soothe the growing fear.

Your eyes managed to flicker back to the door every few seconds, awaiting the arrival of your cousin and the desperately needed apology you’d give her. What you didn’t know is that Rhaenyra was stomping through the halls of the Eyrie whilst trying not to look too desperate as she charged for the great hall with her hands clenched painfully tight in front of her as she too longed to see you again.

The heavy doors of the great hall swung open, the Princess storming inside as her company struggled to keep up. Immediately, Rhaenyra surveyed the room for you, finding you rising from a chair near the Lord’s throne. Your empty wine cup was forgotten on the table, your hair was wild from the ride you took and your dragon riding clothes were dirty with muck. But Rhaenyra thought you never looked more ethereal.

The Arryn’s greeted their granddaughter with open arms, yet Rhaenyra b-lined for you only. Immediately, Rhaenyra took your hands— now rid of gloves, that were now tucked into your belt— in her own out of instinct, peeking down at your silver and blue rings that glistened on your fingers as she twisted them around.

When your cousin lifted her head you could see tears glazing her eyes as she tried to keep her composure. “You’re here?” She questioned, more in amazement than disbelief.

“Im here. For you” you smiled, squeezing Rhaenyra’s hands affectionately. “And I’m so sorry for what I said last time we spoke”

“You need not apologise, cousin” Rhaenyra assured you, ignoring the impatient glares from her grandparents. “I’m simply glad to see you again”

Rhaenyra then knew she had to face the Arryn’s, carefully dropping your soft hands to stand before their tall throne— not as majestic as the Iron Throne.

Once Rhaenyra was situated on her own chair, an extensive line of men strutted in, wearing their finest clothes and cockiest smirks before the Princess.

You stood to the side, barely holding in your snickers or chuckles at the faces of these proud men get downright rejected by the Heir to the Iron Throne herself, their faces dropping in embarrassment as the waddled away.

Hours seemed to pass and your opportunity was finally arriving, but the later it got the more disappointed you could see Rhaenyra becoming.

“Cousin” you stepped forward, cutting off some measly Lord of House Baelish, whom glared at the back of your head for the interruption. “If I may…” The bystanders of the Eyrie waited for you, intrigued. “House Velaryon is a fine candidate.” You suggested, ignoring the confused mumbling from the Lords and Ladies beside you, the only thing you were focused do was the gleeful face of your cousin.

“If Ser Laenor were wishing to propose to the Princess, why didn’t he come himself?” Lord Arryn scratched the side of his bald head, utterly stumped.

“I was not suggesting Ser Laenor, My Lord” the confused mumbling turned even louder. “Your Grace” you curtsied to Rhaenyra. “I propose myself a chance of the greatest honour to wed the Princess.” Outraged shouts were thrown at you for your suggestion, before being silenced by Lord Arryn.

“What you are suggesting, My Lady, could be considered treason! For a woman to marry a woman is preposterous, but for a two women to be Queen is vile!” His grouchy voice echoed his halls, glaring at you with deep anger and a need to keep his granddaughter from your sin.

“Husband” Lady Arryn called, “I do believe your opinion has no effect on Princess Rhaenyra’s final decision. No need to waste your breath” You could tell her words held more defence towards you, when her husband could not.

Lord Arryn huffed, falling back in his seat with a never-ending glare. “Indeed, wife”

Standing from her chair, Rhaenyra slowly moved towards you as to not draw too much obviousness to her eagerness.

“You don’t jest?” She wavered in High Valyrian, to assure your privacy. “Because this would be a cruel jest to play”

“I promise, Nyra. I play no jest. I simply wish to marry the woman I love” You smiled, once again taking in her breathtaking appearance that you could never get enough of.

“Good” Rhaenyra laughed breathily in relief. “Because I also wish to marry the woman I love” she admitted, once again taking your hands. “I have wished this since I was nine”

“Well I have wished it since I was eight” you playfully challenged.

With one last burst of confidence, you jumped forward to capture Rhaenyra’s lips with your own. The gasps of the nobility was drowned out by your love. Rhaenyra not you were ever ones for perfection or acceptance, always loving the thrill of trouble.

You simply focused on Rhaenyra’s soft, sweet lips— finally being sealed by your connected passion for one another.

—

You and Rhaenyra had gotten married later that year in Old Valyrian fashion, per her request, filled with intense passion, love and desire— which followed deep into that night.

And yes, you still get rude remarks and still got your feet spat on, but ‘twas all very worth it if you got to marry your Wife and live a long life with her.

Rhaenyra Targaryen knew she loved you with all her heart could muster. And that they loved each other. That only one who loves another so deeply, would proclaim one’s love so boldly in a room of strangers.

[shroombies]

Art fight attack for @red-naiver !!

[juudaimes-true-form]

What If...?

Enrico never died. Timoteo managed to keep one son alive. And though his favored one is gone, at least Enrico remains. As such, Enrico becomes Vongola 10th and the Ninth finds bliss in retirement.

For the first couple of days, at least. Within the month, he was bored. the Ninth hadn't expected this. In hindsight it made sense, but, for once: Timoteo. Was. Bored. When he wasn't spending every waking moment thinking about one thing or the other, he had nothing else to do.

Of course, he went back to the Iron Fort. Just to see how his boy was holding out (he didn't have to, no, but he needed to.) Enrico did not appreciate the gesture. Ninth had spent the last years agnozing over who would properly lead the family and now, he's butting in where he shouldn't be.

Timoteo thinks Enrico is doing a terrible job. But Enrico won't listen. For a while, he briefly considers helping Xanxus, regardless of adoption, have the position. But Xanxus is too strong, too hardy. Too much like Enrico.

What Timoteo needs is someone... nicer, naiver, more innocent. Iemitsu had a son like that right?

Wouldn't that be fun?

[Plain text: "What If...?" in large red text. /End PT]

[australet789]

Moxxie, i love you, but you are naiver than Charlie.

WAAAAAY naiver

[flowersforvax]

I thought I was cutting it close with my flight but now I'm here (checked in, baggage dropped and through security) at 16 and my flight won't leave until 17:35 💀

To be fair to me Google maps only showed me the STUPIDEST of routes to take (walk for fifteen minutes??? And over a bridge? When the station is right there? I don't think so. Not again.

(Wednesday me was younger and naiver and took the DLR from the airport to west Silverton and then. Walked. To Excel. Through neighborhoods, several flights of stairs up a bridge, across the bridge and then down all those stairs as well. At least I got a work out in lmao)

Pictured: the stairs I carried my luggage up and then down on the other side

Anyway what I'm trying to say is that I didn't have the handy dandy estimated travel time so I did the equivalent of sending an astronaut 100 tampons for a five day mission. Also google maps sucks.

[flfnd]

6. Januar. Bidens Rede im Valley Forge geguckt. Nicht einmal, genau genommen, sondern zweimal: am Abend, kurz nachdem er sie gehalten hatte, und dann nochmal mitten in der Nacht in meiner üblichen Kann-nicht-schlafen-Phase. Niemand hier würde das machen, J. nicht, ihr Bruder nicht. Es ist als hätte ich eine Art naiver Ernsthaftigkeit, die mich so etwas angucken und ihm Bedeutung beimessen lässt, anders als so ziemlich alle, die ich kenne. Aber wie sich herausstellt, hat J vor nicht allzu langer Zeit auch, zum Beispiel, eine State of the Union geguckt, aber jetzt nicht mehr, sie fühlt sich zu desillusioniert.

[worstwebtooncouplespoll]

How many couples do you think is enough to start the tournament? And how many do you currently have?

Hades/Persephone

Kade/Zaida

Frank/Lola

Arcus/Maud

Charles/Sam

Thanatos/Daphne

Boyfriends (?) [I'm still torn on this one tbh]

The Girlfriends from Boyfriends (the propaganda on that one was more compelling so I'll allow it)

Naiver/Heinry

Rashta/What'sHisFace

Alex/N

Carhel/Lena

Lincoln/Angela

Kala/Ezra

Karloi/Evonne

Amon/Blondina

Duke/Daisy

Duke Yulius /Mint

Maiori/Queen Vel or Mal/Vel? (I think these are the same thing but idk which is correct)

Geunhu Ji/Ha-im Yun

Mr Bass/Mrs. Bass

[Note: for transparency sake, there are a couple more submissions, but the propaganda isn't very compelling and idk how seriously to take some of them when they call one half of the ship "the guy (doesn’t matter which one)". Even if I included those submissions, I wouldn't be at the minimum of 32 ships. I only have 33 submissions as of now—two of them being Canvas comics that don't apply and a good portion of them being Hades and Persephone submissions. You can stop submitting them now lmao.]

32 would be a good minimum, but I'm willing to take in more! My main concern with this tournament is that Webtoons are sort of niche and finding 128 bad ships in Webtoon Originals without going into crack!ship territory might be difficult.

[qcoded]

Title: A Simple Matter

Fandom: The Owl House

Characters: Emperor Belos and The Collector

Words: 3,306

Summary: It seems Belos doesn't remember the warmth of a hug after so long, and under unexpected circumstances he does something he never would have thought of even doing before.

It's been a long time since Belos had touched another being in a way you would call 'close', let alone brush the tip of his fingers against them.

As the feared Emperor of the Boiling Isles, or as the Witch Hunter Philip Wittebane, neither had a recent memory of casually touching another human, monster, demon, less a witch, for evident reasons. He'd rather burn his hands off than touch one of them if he was telling the truth.

Faint memories of friendly hugs flashed in his mind like a broken tape, the laughs of a younger, naiver him echoed through his skull along blurs, of that familiar, blond hair and blue eyes of Caー

The throne room nearly echoed with how big of a sigh the man let out, attempting to erase such memories from his mind. His metal covered hand ran through his tangled hair (perhaps it needed a brushing soon?) as he took a moment to keep his mind blank.

Belos brows knitted in a furrowed way, tapping lightly on his face as he attempted to figure out what even brought up in his head something like that. Normally, The Emperor wouldn't be putting a thought into things like that, far more important things were there to put his brain power into.

Despite that, he didn't actively attempt to ignore the memory of a conversation he had with a certain, childish entity that soon began to play in his mind.

'In all honesty, it would be a lie to say The Emperor had gotten used to The Collector, the very being that once could only take the form of an eerie shadow with a childlike voice, being well… a literal child.

Belos couldn't help but wonder how the interdimensional deity that could supposedly only retain a physical form once fully freed, was now normally interacting with crayons that were sprawled around them, using them to scribble on a piece of paper as they laid on the floor of his study.

Their current form was….somehow, what he expected it to be. Purple-ish white hair stuck out from under the purple, polka dotted cloth that drapped it. Unnerving, red eyes stared down at the piece of paper below them as they grabbed and dropped random crayons to complete whatever 'masterpiece' they were working on.

The Emperor quietly observed the small…child (he supposed it would be accurate to refer to him as that?) as they swayed their legs up and down, seemingly entertained by the doodles they were creating of who knows what. It was truly a relief that handing that box of crayons he found laying around along with sheets of white paper actually managed to keep him entertained enough that he wasn't pestering the older man with either riddles or nonsensical questions.

"Belos?"

He spoke too soon.

With a sigh, Belos took his attention off the paperwork in his hands, turning it onto the young deity who placed a blue crayon down as he looked up at the other.

Eyes riddled with subtle annoyance, he prepared himself for what he assumed would be just another silly inquiry The Collector thought of in a state of boredom, like every other time he had to answer a barrage of questions.

"Yes, Collector?" 

"When was the last time you hugged someone?"

This was the first time The Collector actually made a question based on an observation, rather than out of simple wonders that came into his mind, and it seemed he spent enough time analyzing The Emperor's interactions with others to even bring this up.

"I fail to understand what you even mean by that."

"Don't you notice that you barely touch anyone? Everytime I see you talking with one of your little servants or whatever they are, the most you've ever done is gripping their shoulder! It's kinda creepy though.."

For once, the small child was shown to observe someone close enough to even notice details like these, just based on interactions. Well, more specifically, Belos being the someone in question. It was unnerving to be observed in such a way by The Collector.

"I'm the Emperor, and as The Emperor, I am not supposed to have any 'close' contact with anybody. That would be highly unprofessional of me, to be seen interacting with another in such way."

Slight offense could be heard in his tone, being told off by a mere (not exactly in reality) child on something like this. What else is he supposed to do when interacting with other people over simple matters, embrace the person?

The Collector simply scoffed, rolling their eyes as the purple crayon beside them was picked up, going back to doodling on their piece of blank paper, their attention returned onto it.

"And then you probably ask yourself why you're so lonely. No wonder you are so grumpy."

Silence once again filled the air after the child deity responded with that final line, ending their little "conversation" quickly. Only thing that was now heard were the sounds of crayons on paper as Belos sat with his thoughts, papers still in hand.

It wasn't long before he snapped out of his trance-like state, composing his thoughts and going back to the paperwork he was working on just before the small child interrupted him.

Even as he returned his focus entirely onto his work, rather than onto a comment made by an immature kid who despite being the most important part of completing the draining spell, did nothing more than annoy him. Belos still subconsciously dwelled over their conversation.

All The Emperor could do was ignore an unfamiliar feeling creeping up on him, as he sideglanced The Collector before quietly going back to his work.'

The same, unfamiliar feeling began to almost form a pit in his stomach as the memory soon faded away, leaving nothing more than a bitter taste in his mouth.

It was bothersome how he couldn't ignore it as it got more and more to him, blocking out any other emotions that possibly could have been there before being wiped out.

He's The Emperor, surely he wouldn't be carried away by something like this, something so childish he might as well call himself stupid for even giving it the time of day, if anything! What kind of ruler lets himself get lost in some silly sentiment caused by such a meaningless conversation?

Yet, despite the mental berating he was subjecting himself to, that he was being utterly pathetic for not immediately stopping all those thoughts from even reaching into his head, the halls of the castle echoed with each of his steps as he left his throne, leaving to be anywhere else to possibly distract himself.

What was Belos even expecting, at this point? Even as he took a walk to 'distract' himself from this plaguing feeling, he wandered mindlessly as he tried to exactly pinpoint what it even was.

Stress? Sorrow? Depression? Simply just being pathetic, for once in his life? 

And as he continued to walk, it clicked.

Loneliness.

He couldn't recall the last time he casually touched anyone, he couldn't recall what another being felt like, he couldn't recall how it felt to not be so alone to the point that it didn't matter that he was constantly surrounded by people almost always.

And, he couldn't, recall the last time he felt the warmth, of even a casual embrace.

Shame. Shame, Shame, SHAME on him, shame on Belos, despite having much more important matters in hand, for being so stupid than to get worked up over this. SHAME, on Belos, for even caring about interacting with anyone else in a way like that, despite them being inferior to him. 

SHAME, for thinking, he even deserved, such things, after everything he's done.

And yet, it was simply breaking him, that even as The Tyrannical Emperor Belos who simply couldn't care less about other beings, or as The delusional Witchhunter Philip Wittebane, too far off in his twisted goal of erradicaring everyone on the Boiling Isles, both simply were…

Lonely.

God forbid that he would be caught in a state like this, overtaken by his own loneliness that he couldn't function properly, and he calls himself The Emperor.

Belos covered the entirety of his face with his hand, not even paying mind to where in God's name he was heading. It would be more than embarrassing, shameful and pathetic for ANYONE, no matter who, to see him in a state like thi-

"Is that you, Belos?"

He can't really go one minute without speaking too early, can he?

A voice far too familiar, The Emperor slowly uncovered his face, being met with the view of a confused Collector (who even knew where they came from) as his brow furrowed. It was evident the child was probably deciding whether the man who currently seemed to be stuck in a…not so great state, was the same man who managed to make an entire population worship the very ground he walked on.

As soon as they concluded it WAS in fact that same, old pal of theirs, a giggle escaped from their mouth, their expression soon contorting into one of amusement. Something about seeing someone like Belos, out of all the possible people, evidently being in a state like this was laughable… to say the least

"Jeez, what happened to you? Let me guess, let me guess! You got betrayed by one of the members in your Coven? Let me guess, that Hunter kid?! You really can't keep anyone around!"

Normally, an insufferable comment like that coming from The Collector would have simply made Belos immediately leave, not wishing to deal with any more ridiculous comments as he probably reminded himself he just had to deal with him a bit longer.

But he just stood there.

The words that came out of the lavender haired child's mouth simply seemed like white noise to Belos, staring down with…eyes that almost seemed to be starved, if that even made sense.

And that dreadful feeling just increased as he gripped his fists, almost restraining himself from committing to a single desire running through him, he wouldn't dare to allow the possible situation from occurring, surely he had enough dignity?

Right?

But as his labored breathing filled his very being, and the mocking comments of The Collector echoed through the halls…

He snapped.

 

"Seriously, you are so, SO-"

The small child couldn't even get his sentence out properly, replaced by a high pitched yell as all of a sudden, he felt himself being lifted off the ground entirely, their purple hat nearly slipping off as he held a grip on it.

The Collector felt as two, strong arms gripped him tightly, entirely squished by the sudden hold as he quickly realized that he was being…embraced. By Belos.

Belos.

They couldn't really form a proper reaction, looking far off with a dumbfounded expression as The Emperor practically buried his face into the child's shoulder, one of his hands wrapped around the other's tiny waist as the other gently held The Collector's head.

It was quiet, for once. No unpleasant comments made out of mockery, no annoying pranks that nearly made Belos rip his hair out, nothing.

Everything was so… calm.

Belos could only feel as the overwhelming warmth that slowly filled him completely dispersed that bitter feeling, the longer he embraced The Collector, the more it increased.

Embarrassing, shameful, childish, utterly pathetic. Those words ran through his head, for being so desperate for another's touch that even one of a child, for crying out loud, was enough to completely erase that feeling of coldness that resided in him for too long.

But, Belos didn't pull away, and neither did The Collector.

Red tinting his cheeks, the deity completely melted into the hands embracing him, his tiny hands wrapping around The Emperor's neck as they hid their face into the man's shoulder in an attempt to cover their blushing face.

How was The Collector really supposed to react, as someone who's never gotten a hug before? It was like a wave of pure, warm sweetness washed him over and left him to be nothing more than a melted, flustered puddle.

Finally, a quiet, meek whisper broke the silence, small hands squeezing The Emperor's cape as the lavender haired child looked down.

"...Can we go somewhere else…?"

In the midst of completely losing all his dignity in his state of pure euphoria, Belos quickly realized that it probably would be embarrassing for both him and The Collector to be found in the middle of the hallway, clinging onto each other like this.

"...You're right. Perhaps it would be… better to head to my bedroom…? Belos offered, pulling back a bit to actually look at the flustered Collector, a nervous pout on his reddened face as his red eyes darted across the hallway to avoid any form of eye contact, probably feeling all too shy to for once.

A slight nod was enough of an answer for The Emperor to stand up straight, lifting up The Collector so he could comfortably wrap his hands around the man's neck as he positioned for the child's legs to be supported by his hands.

It was… an awkward walk to say the least. Both of them were quiet as a mouse as The Collector simply buried his face into the others shoulder, face still red as ever. They were honestly relieved they got to hide it, they didn't want to show actual embarrassment in front of anyone, nevertheless after sharing their very first hug in… unexpected circumstances with an unexpected person.

Belos grabbed the golden handle leading to his room as soon as he arrived, twisting it as a slow creak drew out. The Emperor took a few steps foward as he entered, closing the door behind him with a 'click!' as the tiny child in his hands turned around as little stars popped up in his eyes, flabbergasted at how fancy and huge everything was. 

Intricate decorations thats eerieness was completly ignored, a polished wooden study that had a reeeeeeally big book shelf right beside it and oh, was that a…piano he saw?! Huh, learning new things every day about Belos they guessed?

What really caught his attention the most though, was the king size bed, a white, thick duvet covered it and various, extremely soft looking blankets and pillow were placed rather neatly to say the least.

Belos could just tell The Collector was eyeing it even without looking his way, he probably figured the kid never actually had experienced what it's like to be in a bed, and to them it most likely looked like a big, touchable cloud.

With an amused sigh, Belos made his way to it, nearly feeling the probable excitement radiating from the little ball of energy. 

Carefully, he brought the Collector down to his feet, making sure he was at a level where Belos wouldn't straight up just drop them down to ground. A wave of relief washed over him as he finally got to sit down once again, the bed lightly creaking.

If he was being honest, he was half expecting for the child god to straight up just dive headfirst into the duvet. Who was he lying to really? It made more sense that The Collector just accepted his act of losing his dignity in the moment because of pure shock. Maybe he could actually regain it, this just ending as another experience he will erase from his memory eventually. He supposed it was nice while it lasted.

It would really be an understatement to say, Belos really spoke too soon about a lot of things. His lungs nearly disintegrated on the spot as he felt the lavender haired child headbutt straight into chest with open arms, sending him laying down as he let out a hard cough.

It really was a godsend that at least he was on the soft bed that wouldn't have broke his head, or else that would have been a very early end for him.

A slightly surprised expression made it's way onto his face as he looked down at the small child, now clinging to him, almost like a cat needy for affection as they wrapped their arms around the Emperor's shoulders. It was almost too soon that just by a hug, it was completely fine to just launch himself onto Belos without warning now.

Even so, Belos didn't exactly oppose.

The 'apparent' tyrant soon enveloped the child, his hand slowly making it's way to their small waist as he hesitantly began to run the other through The Collector's soft, lavender hair, wondering if it always smelled so pleasant as he gazed down with…gentle eyes.

It would truly be a lie to say he wasn't indeed thinking the Collector looked surprisingly…adorable? The man probably would have hanged himself at the mere thought of finding anything adorable in whatever way, especially someone like an insane child who quite literally had God's power, but he couldn't be blamed, right?

It was simply too…cute how he fitted so nicely in his arms, similar to gently holding a baby kitten in the palm of your hand.

"You know, Collector," A raspy sigh broke the silence, The Emperor beginning to speak as he looked up at the patterned ceiling, the child deity in his hands now looking at him as he listened.

"You were right…you were entirely right. I am indeed a lonely man, I was just… suppressing the fact, I suppose. It really wasn't for the better, as it started to shatter something inside me bit by bit."

The feelings of loneliness never really surfaced as the time went on, just the mere acknowledgement of simply not being close with anyone was there, but it took just the mention of it from someone else who observed him enough to comment on it, for the shatters in him to really start showing.

His laugh was one of bittersweetness, looking at The Collector's red eyes as he continued to gently stroke his hair, untangling the small knots as he spoke.

"It's quite amusing, isn't it? To think it broke me, to the point I really found comfort in the embrace of a child."

He was truly pathetic, but, he might as well indulge in the process, can't he?

A pout quickly made it's way onto The Collector's face as he quite literally squished himself more onto Belos, a feeling of annoyance radiating off him as he lightly punched his fist on The Emperor's chest, looking up at him with almost an offended look.

"You're such a liar! Why am I here now then? To wreck your room or something?!" The Collector retorted as he furiously shook his head, bringing himself closer to the other's face as he looked at Belos with his red eyes, a small, mischievous smile forming on his lips.

"You're not lonely anymore as long as I'm here, got it?! because I'm going to give you lots and loooooots of hugs!" A giggle escaped from their mouth, suddenly booping their noses together as they brought their pinkie finger near Belos.

"Pinkie promise?"

With a sigh, he couldn't stop the smile from coming onto his face as Belos wrapped his pinkie against The Collector's much more smaller one, gently squeezing it.

"Pinkie promise."

With a small giggle, The Collector layed his cheek on The Emperor's chest as his eyes slowly shut, a small smile resting on his face as the other continued to stroke his hair, that warmth enveloping them slowly as they both fell into a euphoric state.

As they layed quietly, melting against eachother as the moments passed, Belos couldn't help but think that even if his loneliness was a simple matter or not,

Perhaps an unexpected embrace wasn't exactly bad, even from a Child.

[maloramblr]

2006

Hier gleich um die Ecke steht seit ein paar Wochen wieder der hochmoderne, rote Frittenstand mit LCD-Fernseher und Trance-House-Beschallung. Eine Design-Frittenbude sozusagen. Design im negativen Sinne, so wie man den Ausdruck seit den späten Achtzigern in Möbelhausprospekten benutzt, vor allem als Vordoppelsilbe: Design-Sofa, Design-Lampe, Design-Toaster. Ich glaube, man hat das jetzt verstanden. Also in der Design-Frittenbude arbeitet normalerweise ein sehr sehr dünnes Mädchen, dem ich nicht unterstellen will, dass es magersüchtig ist. Aber alle Frauen mit etwas Übergewicht würden auf jeden Fall sagen, dass sie magersüchtig ist. Ich denke, sie ist einfach nur dünn. Gibt’s ja auch. Von Natur aus dünn. Doch das gibt’s. Bevor dieser Text auf seinen unspektakulären kleinen Höhepunkt zuwankt, der nichts mit dem von Natur aus dünnen Mädchen zu tun hat, noch ein kleiner Vorhöhepunkt, der mit dem von Natur aus dünnen Mädchen zu tun hat. Ich bringe kürzlich [eigentlich war das letztes Jahr, aber um die Geschichte zumindest zeitlich zusammenzuhalten, lüge ich ein bisschen], also gestern bringe ich 20 kg FAZ-Altpapier zum Container und werde auf dem Weg dorthin von dem sich in Freizeit befindlichen, von Natur aus sehr dünnen Mädchen angesprochen [das ich jetzt nicht mehr so nennen werde, weil das nervt]. Sie fragte mich, ob sie die Zeitungen haben könnte, um die Wohnungsanzeigen durchzusehen, da sie gerade eine Wohnung in Köln suche. [Indirekte Rede konnte ich übrigens schon immer sehr schlecht.] Natürlich konnte man auf dreißig Meter Entfernung schon sehen, dass das die FAZ ist, von der man weiß, wenn man die FAZ in seinem Leben schon mal durchgeblättert hätte, dass sich darin keine Kölner Wohnungsanzeigen befinden. Zumindest keine, die sich an Design-Frittenbuden-Minijobberinnen richten. Egal, man muss überhaupt nichts im Leben und auch das FAZ-Durchblättern gehört zu diesen Nichts-Sachen. Naiver fand ich eher ihre Vorstellung, in vermutlich uralten Zeitungen nach Wohnungsannoncen suchen zu wollen, was ich ihr dann auch auf sehr diplomatische Weise [Sternzeichen Waage] ausgeredet habe, ohne dass sie sich dabei ungebildet, dumm, arm, verwirrt, realitätsfern oder magersüchtig vorkommen musste. Nun zum eigentlichen Höhepunkt der Geschichte: heute bediente in der Design-Frittenbude nicht das wohnungslose Mädchen, das in ihrem ganzen Leben noch keine FAZ durchgeblättert hat, was nicht schlimm ist, aber das hat man jetzt verstanden, sondern ein Typ, der wie ein abgewrackter Sportstudent aussah, eine Mischung aus Stabhochspringer und Surfer-Dude [Dude englisch ausgesprochen] mit so kinnlangen Haaren und blauer Sonnenbrille, also selbst für Design-Frittenbuden irgendwie untypisch. Und er freute sich sichtlich über die schrecklich laute, grässliche Musik, die das Frittiergeräusch der Doppelfritteuse und das Aufplatzgeräusch der Bratwürste überdeckte, und wird dann tatsächlich von einem Kunden gefragt, von wem denn dieser Song sei und er antwortet: das ist ein Ibiza-Mitschnitt. Und über das Wort Ibiza-Mitschnitt freue ich mich schon den ganzen Tag.

erschienen in NEUE PROBLEME, 2006

[Nachtrag 2023: Anstelle der Frittenbude steht heute ein Motel-One-Hotel.]

[miqojak]

FFXIV Write Prompt #1: Cross

"So I ran away, crossed the shining sea. And when I finally set foot back on solid ground, the first thing I heard was that goddamn voice. Do you know what it said? It said, "This is the new world, and in this world, you can be whoever the fuck you want." " —Maeve Millay, Westworld s1e2, Chestnut

She'd crossed unfathomable distances, to be where she was now.

Most of the natural splendor had been lost on a young woman fleeing in fear - merely trying to stay ahead of the war that had already chewed her up, and spit her out.

She'd clung tightly to who she'd been, then - desperately trying to take care of the only family left to her, by way of a twin brother who'd never tasted war like she had... and in a way, she'd hated him for it; and yet all the same... she'd have died, to keep him from ever having to suffer as she had.

But now? She'd lived longer than she'd ever expected to, been abandoned by the very brother she'd never imagined losing again, and where had all that journeying truly left her?

What did it all amount to?

She'd never expected to meet a crossroads in life; never expected Garlemald to finally fall; she had never expected to be without her twin, nor to... find someone who cared about her; who saw the world much as she did.

She was finally at that place that a younger, naiver J'kesri had anticipated finding when she'd been on the run, desperate just to make it to Ul'dah, the land where the sand itself was made of gold, if you listened to half the merchants that hailed from the damn place.

She had abundance now - more than many, less than many more - affection, a home, a high position in her 'job'... all that was left, was deciding who she'd be, really. What was left? Yakuza wasn't what she wanted to focus on for the rest of her years, but she didn't even know what small steps to take beyond as much...

In a world where she could choose anything she wanted... what did she want?

Payback, mostly.

With Garlemald wiped off the map, perhaps Ul'dah came next - it was the jewel of the desert that had crushed the last seeds of hope in a young refugee's heart, after all. In a way, the people there were worse than the Garleans... they liked to fancy that they were the 'good guys', and all the while they fluffed their feathers, they walked on the backs of people like her.

Besides, did she really have any better pursuit, than to torment the rich?