#perhaps not THE favorite but another favorite nevertheless

[mareenavee]

The World on Our Shoulders | Chapter 14: Please Don't Forget About Me

12th of Morning Star 4E 202

Athis woke with a chill. The house was cold, which was unusual. A draft blew through the old walls. He flipped over in bed. He only saw the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller on her nightstand. Her journal, silver comb and looking glass were gone, which meant Nyenna was already awake and getting ready for the day. Why was it so cold, then? Maybe she ran out of firewood. They’d been busy, so he hadn’t had a chance to buy any from Belethor. He couldn’t even tell what time it was at first glance out their window, because there was a hell of a storm blowing through the city. Winter in Skyrim was a cruel beast sometimes. He had plans to convince Nyenna to try to make peace with Delphine, but he wasn’t about to march her into a blizzard. They could rest another day. At this point, what more harm could it do? They were safe enough in Whiterun both from dragons and Thalmor. All he wanted was for her mind to be at ease. It was easier to fight without a load of other worries buzzing around in one’s brain like so many bees.

He stretched and got out of bed. He rubbed his face and realized he’d never washed off his warpaint. It had been a trying time the night before. Too much soothing and comforting to remember the details. He smiled at the memory, and bent to retrieve his discarded clothes and find his hair tie. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen. Funnily enough, neither was her armor. She had mentioned wanting to clean off the evidence of their battle with the Thalmor. Maybe that’s what she was up to. He dressed and wandered downstairs.

The kitchen area was grey and silent. She had either snuffed out the candles or hadn’t bothered to light them, which was strange. He grumbled to himself as he groped around in a cabinet for flint and some straw pieces to light them himself. He tossed a log – of which there were plenty – on the hearth and lit the fire pit, too. He cursed himself for forgetting the Flames spell again. He was shit at magic, really, but it did make things much easier. And he did know that one, sort of. It was just that she had all this covered every day in less than a quarter of the time and he had gotten used to it. He got to the sconce behind the table and noticed something a bit odd. There was a pouch of gold on the table, sat upon a small leaf of parchment. She hadn’t left a to-do list for him since before the wedding. These were things she usually covered before he could even wake up in the morning. To be fair, a lot of their housework had gone by the wayside in the last few days. He didn’t mind if she split some of it. Terrible that the storm struck while she was out on errands, though. He smiled as he reached for the parchment. If they had to be out in the snow, might as well start a snowball fight. The last time he had, half the town had joined in. How she’d laughed, then. It was a good idea – she needed that kind of joy after yesterday.

He frowned after he unfolded the letter, feeling suddenly like he’d been knocked on his backside. It wasn’t a to-do list at all. -> Read the rest on AO3

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧.

✦ info: he's so, so in love with you.

✦ warnings: not proofread.

✦ featuring: jing yuan, gepard landau.

✦ notes: please do know i've done no research i only know bits and pieces of actual game lore these are simply self indulgent and silly Thoughts i'm having about them in the middle of the night <3 (i have no clue what this is i js think it's cute)

— smitten! jing yuan, who thinks of you all day, every day, while doing his official duties, while sparring with yanqing, while speaking with officials, even just before his afternoon nap.

(the strangest of things remind him of you: an oddly shaped rock takes him back to the time when you baked something for him, and the dew shining on a leaf brings with it a recollection of the sparkle in your gaze. it is almost as if you've claimed more than half the space in his head, stubbornly refusing to surrender it into the hands of his daily tasks.

well, he's certainly not complaining.)

— speaking of afternoon naps, smitten! jing yuan, who dreams of you while he dozes in the afternoon. he doesn't remember all of them, but he adores the warm, fuzzy feeling he wakes up with.

— smitten! jing yuan, who names one of his birds after you. he tries not to pick favorites, he really does, but there's just something about the way this little one tilts its head that reminds him so much of you, how can he not like this one the most?

(yanqing once caught him affectionately cooing at the bird with your name. he brings it up every game of starchess they play, hoping to distract the general from stealing another one of his pieces. jing yuan knows what he's doing though, and still ends up stealing a piece or two.)

— smitten! gepard, who writes letters addressed to you every single day while he's away. some he sends, some he keeps. but every single one of them is filled with all the things he thinks of telling you while you're not by his side.

(the ones he keeps are the sappiest, full of things he's too shy to say to you— about how he longs to return to your warm embrace, about how he wants to taste your cooking, about how he wants to lie in your lap while you pet his hair. perhaps one day, he'll find the courage to say them out loud?)

— smitten! gepard, who finds himself murmuring your name, over and over when he's idle.

(sometimes, if there's a tune running through his head, he sings out the syllables of your name, before catching himself in the act. he shakes his head at himself, red dusting his cheeks, but a tiny smile plays at his lips nevertheless.)

— smitten! gepard, who doodles your name (and perhaps a drawing or two) on a spare piece of paper whenever he's lost in thought. he'd never dare do that on official paper work, though, no way, none at all.

(except... one fine day, he ends up drawing one of his infamous sketches in the margins of a very important, incredibly serious, highly official report to the supreme guardian herself.

he only notices at the very last minute, right before submission, much to his mortification and relief. thank the preservation, he thinks as he redoes it, for—well— preserving his dignity.

who knows how much his sister would have teased him if she found out?)

taglist: @ilyuu @ineshapanda @supernova25 @kissedbysilk @vixianne

(bold = unable to be tagged!) please fill in the form in my profile to be added, and send an ask to be removed!

[stereax]

CapFriendly Alternative Sites MegaPost

(Last update: 07/27 - added CapSized.)

As we are all likely aware by now, the Washington Capitals have decided to ruin everyone's lives by purchasing and sunsetting CapFriendly. The site has gone dark as of July 10, 2024.

While the hockey community has experienced a similar loss before, with the death of Matthew Wuest and the subsequent loss of CapGeek, this is a markedly different situation that sets a troubling precedent - namely, that freely usable, public NHL data is now available to the highest bidder, who can then revoke access to the data at a minute's notice. Two things can coexist: we can be happy for the makers of CapFriendly that they are being compensated well for their services while also scorning the Washington Capitals organization for choosing to turn off CapFriendly entirely.

Under the cut, please find a list of free CapFriendly alternatives and other websites that contain NHL data. (In some cases, they are mostly free - however, most/all important information for lay analysis is available for free.) This list is dynamic and taking suggestions, so please feel free to send me any websites you find at @stereax and check the original post for updates!

PART 1: SALARY CAP TRACKERS

PuckPedia: The New CapFriendly

PuckPedia is the closest replacement to CapFriendly currently available. It contains salary cap information for all teams and players, draft pick information, several calculators including a buyout calculator and a pick value calculator, agent information, and more. They also run PuckDoku! The biggest strike against PuckPedia is its lack of simulators (Armchair GM, mock draft, or trade simulators); however, in the wake of the CapFriendly news, PuckPedia shared that an Armchair GM simulator is under active development. 07/05 Update: PuckGM is here! You can also react to prospective PuckGMs (thumbs up, thumbs down, laugh, think emojis).

CapSized: Labor of Love

Referred to me by @nonslipdoormat and billed as a "solo female developer's project" (nonslipdoormat IS said developer!), CapSized is a site that's designed similarly to CapFriendly. It has some features other sites lack, such as trade histories going back to 2003 (with some entries as old as 1964!) and a detailed transactions page again stretching YEARS into the past. The more you poke around, the more cool things you uncover. Its primary purpose is to be a "visual database", but calculators and an NHL GM mode are on the list of future additions. I'll be dead honest, I think this is my favorite cap-checker site because of all the extra utilities. Super excited to see where this project goes!

Referred to me by @reavenedges-lies. A "baby site" that has some of the basics of salary cap info, plus a buyout calculator, qualifying offer calculator, and trade proposal maker. The trade proposal maker is prone to error and seems to only be useful for graphics. It can be a useful site for some, but it would not be my first choice.

CapWages: CapFriendly Lite

Another alternative to PuckPedia that mimics CapFriendly in design and is more intuitive for users going directly from CapFriendly to an alternative site. Like PuckPedia, it now features a GM mode, but the GM mode is in beta and is not fully functional (it only shows contracts currently existing at the NHL level). Nevertheless, for checking salary cap info, it is very good and I recommend it. Also now has a buyout calculator.

CapSpace: Young Gun

BenchWarmers: Greenhorn

Similar to CapSpace but perhaps a little better in the design department. I like how, if you don't have an account, it acts like you're Kyle Dubas and has you watching Toronto and Carolina. Has a few neat stats (like "core four" which shows how much the four most expensive players are making) that I haven't seen easily replicated on other sites, but functionality is rather limited outside of that, which is why it's also not my first choice.

Spotrac: Another Salary Cap Checker

An alternative to PuckPedia for salary cap information. However, it lacks much of the information and functionality of PuckPedia or most other sites listed here.

PART 2: ADVANCED STATS

NaturalStatTrick: The Holy Grail of Stats

NaturalStatTrick, or NatStat for short, is a site that contains just about any stat you can think of for any team or player. It has a learning curve but is generally understood to be the most reliable stat tracker available for free. You can even view stats for individual games on it!

MoneyPuck: DTWoMeter and More

You know it from the Deserve-to-Win-o-Meter or its playoff odds rings, but MoneyPuck has a lot of useful data as well if you do a little browsing. Generally, I've heard that MoneyPuck is less accurate than NatStat, but is easier to use, especially on mobile.

HockeyViz: "If I Ever Sell, I Failed"

Home of the Simple Hockey Charts, HockeyViz has a visual for just about every stat out there. You've almost certainly seen some of them before. Most of them are completely free to the public! They're super useful for visualizing stats as more than "just numbers", allowing you to see exactly WHERE things are happening on the ice.

HockeyStatCards: GameScore Kings

Again, you've probably seen HockeyStatCards's GameScore charts. Using data from NatStat (see above) and an algorithm created by Dom Luszczyszyn, it provides a simple GameScore number that tells you whether a player is having a positive or negative impact on the ice for every game in the NHL.

PART 3: SPECIALIZED SITES

NHL Armchair GM: Building Rosters

This site allows you to Armchair GM a roster. Notably, it has a steeper learning curve than CapFriendly and does not have a forum or other way to easily save and publicize your Armchair GM moves. However, it can be useful to make Armchair GMs and have visuals for them.

NHL Entry Draft: With the First Overall Pick...

This site contains a ton of draft resources, from a mock draft simulator to scouting reports. Definitely a useful site for those who are interested in the entry draft. I've seen a couple of mock draft sites, but this one seems to have by far the easiest and arguably most expansive way to use it.

NHL Injury Viz: Rulers of LTIR

Here, you can explore the relationship between the injuries of players, their cap hits, and how teams did without them. Very useful when you're arguing that a certain player going down doomed the team.

PART 4: MORE TYPES OF DATA

HockeyReference: The Good Old Days

Hockey Reference is best used for surface level data about older players. It has some trivia sections as well, for if you ever wanted to know all players wearing certain jersey numbers, sharing a certain birthday, or hailing from Alaska.

EliteProspects: Every League Imaginable

Want to know the roster of a third-tier league in Quebec? EliteProspects has you covered. Literally every league on the face of the Earth, currently existing and not, EliteProspects has info on. Any player you can possibly name, EliteProspects has their stats from atom hockey all the way to the end of their career.

HockeyDB: Another Spot for Stats

HockeyDB, referred to me by @reavenedges-lies, is another solid site for looking up basic hockey stats. Also has a ton of leagues, similar to EliteProspects. Has a hockey card feature as well that shows you cards featuring the player you've looked up, which is neat!

PART 5: FORUMS

HFBoards: Hockey Forums

Probably the most well-known hockey forum out there. If you want to talk puck on a more forum-like site, similar to CapFriendly's forums, this is the one for you.

PART 6: CAPFRIENDLY ARCHIVES

SergeiFyodorov's CapFriendly FAQ Drive

Curated by @sergeifyodorov. Originally posted here and sent to me by @fellowshipofthegay. Archives of the CapFriendly FAQs!

Got a site that's not listed here? Let me know at @stereax and I'll add it! Remember: While CapFriendly may be going away, hockey analysis is here to stay!

[equalseleventhirds]

"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—

"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."

Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."

(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)

"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."

Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.

Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"

"Hey—!"

Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."

Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"

"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."

"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?

"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."

"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"

-- -- -- -- --

Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.

But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.

And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.

A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.

Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!

So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞? || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚

part one: here || part two; i’ve been the archer

summary_ after returning from Egypt, you are set to marry your half brother Geta. When you fall in love with General Marcus Acaius, your brother tries everything to prevent you from slipping away from him.

warnings_CRINGE, age gap!, semi incest (do not romanticize irl) reader x Geta, drama, angst, VERY quick love confessions, implied SMUT +18

NOTES_ who’s afraid of little old me?, I just wished there were gallows in Ancient Rome, listen to my awful playlist for Marcus and the classic I have for Pedro bb.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist + Marcus’s playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

If there was something you’d never miss… were the carmine sunsets. Those lasted more than usual. That kept the beginning of the night warm and made you the silent promise of another good day by the following morning.

It had been easy for your father to send you away as soon as your mother quit their marriage. Your brother was a big inconvenience and a hidden mistake that shattered your little wealthy family. Under the cautious look of the Roman Senate, your parents were still bonded in a strong marriage. But the truth was that your father never truly loved the woman who gave birth to you. Which led to your mother leaving for Egypt, a Roman Province. Soon after her departure, you were sent to Alexandria too.

Each day was a boost to your status. Learning a vast variety of languages and dialects, learning different types of dances, being able to handle weapons, and gaining control over the Egyptian cities, to help your powerful father; The Emperor.

You barely missed Rome. Your mother was a cold Empress that loosened all the knots your father could have tightened around you. Growing up used to the Egyptian parties, drinking the finest beer and bread. Taking occasional lovers since virginity was not a necessity for marriage in Egyptian society. One of those lovers specifically, was a tall warrior with sun-kissed bronze skin that transformed you into a woman in every aspect you couldn’t discover by yourself. It was a shame when he died after a bad injury during war.

In the present, being in your first years as a young woman, things were likely to change, and you were very aware of it. That didn’t stop you from having the time of your life in the vivid city of Alexandria. With very few friends, a dead lover, and a dream.

Every night you savored those carmine sunsets to pray to Venus. Perhaps your dream of finding a true love hadn’t happened yet due to praying to her instead to Hathor; the god of love in Egyptian territory. Nevertheless, you intended to marry a man who was ridiculously, recklessly, and borderline obsessed with you. You wanted to live the broken dream of your mother.

Until desires were abruptly paused one night. When you received a letter from your father.

“A letter from the Emperor. It is the wish of your father to have you back in Rome” Your walls crumbled into pieces. The face of shock was splashed all across your face as you listened to your mother.

“What motivated his decision?”

“I can assure you, I don’t know, my child,” your mother says vaguely, tending his favorite flowers inside the palace.

“Do not lie to me, mother” she sighs and suddenly, she starts crying. You don’t know what to do, but the sight unsettles you.

“He wants you to marry Geta…” your eyes get impossibly wide open, and you gasp in shock.

“My brother?” your mother nods. You pace back and forth, wondering why and how could your father come to that conclusion.

Although you were used to attending weddings in Egypt that came from a mother marrying her son, to a brother marrying his sister, it was… awkward. This was the boy that destroyed your family, the boy that would take half of your rights as heir was meant to be your husband and father of your children.

The mere thought scares you.

“Will you accompany me?” It’s the first thing you come up with.

“I must stay here since Egypt won’t have you now” You frown at her words. But your throat tightens, defying to produce tears that quickly threaten to spill everywhere.

“Be strong, remember everything I’ve taught you. No men will defy the tenacity of the emperor’s daughter.” you nod, your eyes prickling with fear that explodes in your chest.

“And in between, find the love I couldn’t keep, no matter what, y/n…”

“I’m seeing you again, Right, mother?” she nods, giving you a cold hug.

“I’ll always be here…”

For the first time, the carmine sunset does not bring you peace. Your mind is edging towards collapse as you approach Rome. As the light of the light leaves, you question everything. So many questions and nothing of time.

…

There were no shattered crystals after dinner as you expected. Your brother Geta welcomed you in Rome with excitement and it confused you even more. He gave you a short and personal tour of his newest garden and prepared the finest banquet made by all of the servants.

Geta is a sole copy of your father. Same mannerisms and style. Only behind his attentive look, you were aware of the sadistic man who talked to you with respect.

“Where is Father?” you ask him, sipping at your wine.

“An important meeting surged. He’ll join us tomorrow, we are preparing vast festivities”

“Festivities for what?” he smiles, you don’t like how compassionate and polite he’s being.

“Our marriage, soror” The heavy makeup on his face does everything to hide the truth of the narcissistic man he is.

You could swear he hated you because your mother was the sovereign empress and you the rightful heir. Your father just happened to have two wives and two kids at the same time.

And despite everything, you didn’t hate your brother. You despised her mother for drawing your own apart from your father. For convincing him to send you away from your solemn fair future. For transforming your brother into some incompetent who seemed to have a hunger for chaos and madness.

“I must thank you, for welcoming me… despite our background differences” It takes him aback. Geta expected a disheveled girl, a rebellious female who followed the ways of the savages; the Egyptians. But he encountered a bright and marvelous sister who tried to act with peace after being so far from home for so long.

“I wished we could’ve grown together, like a united family” you admit coldly, avoiding the whole marriage issue.

“We will be a family, y/n. I’ll make sure of that” he says hiding his lips in his cup of wine and it sends shivers running down your spine.

Geta sees how you stand up and politely push forward the chair you were seated in; excellent manners.

“As a tradition of mine, I’ll see the sunset and pray before going to rest. Please excuse me….” your brother nods, still processing your words as you leave the imposing place where you were born. You desperately need fresh air.

Near there’s a meadow with empty spaces. It’s just a piece of land that soon would probably serve to build another coliseum.

One thing is noticeable. Sunsets in Rome aren’t carmine… they are mauve. And for some reason, you can’t feel peace.

But you hold tight to your dream. Your happiness is what you’ve prioritized ever since a teenager.

That’s why you hadn’t failed a day to pray to Venus.

Venus, hear me, please. You whose care, throughout all the centuries, the unions of men and their lovers have been placed, what, I pray, have I come to merit? Release me from this uncertainty, gift me a lover, who will warm my heart for eternity. Venus, save me from the hells of my ancestries.

Someone touches your naked shoulder, it makes you gasp in horror.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” someone says. When you turn around, you are facing a man who’s incredibly taller and broader than you. He’s significantly older than you, but he’s graceful. The second he takes to appreciate the sunset as well is your chance to study his profile. Gorgeous classical profile.

“Excuse me, but… Who are you?” you ask, moving aside, leaving his hand that rested on your shoulder in the air. He noticed it.

“General Marcus Acaius… I wondered why a woman was here all alone” you know him. He’s the most successful general your father ever had. He was a concise warrior, even considered a killer.

Somehow, you couldn’t help but find some sweetness in his deep voice. By knowing him for just a second, you felt comfortable by his side.

“I take pleasure in appreciating the sunset…” your soft features intrigued him. You looked slightly different than most of the women he sees in Rome.

“I haven’t appreciated the sky since I was a kid”

“What a shame, General. You would find some peace hidden between the clouds” Your accent was slightly colder than everyone’s. You didn’t have the golden hair that usually meant power. He was infatuated and tremendously interested in the woman he was facing.

“I must know where you come from…” he says, paying attention to your eyes. You smile, touching the little pearls that fall from your pale blue dress.

“I was born here… but circumstances made Alexandria my home. I arrived last night…” his eyes show surprise. He analyzed your bracelets, made of pure gold. You had a leaf crown with tiny sapphires that shimmered around your head. It wasn’t hard to tell who you were.

“majestas… you shouldn’t be here” he mutters and you don’t even flinch.

“I can assure you, General Acaius… I rarely find myself in the position of damsel in distress” he chuckles and you are relieved to see he doesn’t carry a ring around his finger. It was happening so fast, you wanted to know everything about him.

“You may call me Marcus. Except when we are in the presence of your father or brother” you remember you are supposed to marry your brother. But it wasn’t official just yet. And you were quickly falling for this older and gorgeous General.

After a sweet battle or glances, he has to put down his sword. You notice the details and the signs of years of use it has.

“Is this the weapon you master the most?” he nods, noticing the dry blood around the edges.

“Indeed… I learned to wield it before I even went to school” You smile, nervous but eager to throw your next comment. He was speaking very softly towards you. But it was obvious that he was a reserved and serious man.

“I use the spear and axe” Your revelation leaves Marcus surprised. There were very few female gladiators, most of them being treated worse than common slaves. No female in the Roman hierarchy wielded weapons.

“You truly are one of a kind, majestas” As the emperor’s daughter, you weren’t supposed to ever wield a weapon. Contrary to that rule, you were required to learn about politics. In Egypt, you were free.

“Oh, don’t call me that… my name is Y/n”

“Precious name…”

His smile mixed with yours burst in an obvious mutual flirtation. After talking for about two hours, the moon is the only witness in the dark meadows, where Marcus and you kiss until your lips are swollen and he has hydrated him after days of dryness. He promises to keep close to you as his fingers slip under the fabric of your tunic. You swear to welcome his touch no matter what as your hand palmed his girthy length under his heavy armor.

That night both of you seal your fate. That night Marcus Acaius ignites a vivid fire inside your heart.

…

Often, you wondered if candles could run out due to the excessive use of them each night. At least thirty candles are illuminating the place. You patiently wait in the room Marcus had in the Emperor’s palace, seated on the edge of the bed. When the General comes out, he spots you at his resting place. Immediately, you frown at him.

“You said it was a minor injury” There’s a lot of dry blood on his shoulder. He had taken a bath… but the injury was there, uncomfortably lying over his skin.

“It is a minor injury.” He assures, sitting beside you on the bed.

It’s been only a couple of days since you met him… and you are already too keen on him.

“There are no gladiators where I come from. Only warriors… Generals only command their soldiers. We never used weapons as a spectacle”

“I’m starting to believe Egypt is a better place than Rome” you shrug.

“I miss my home. I miss the freedom. I can’t marry Geta…” you admit out loud for the first time. Marcus huffs, he doesn’t have a problem with letting you know he is jealous.

“Right… the wedding.”

“I have to marry him after all. Only that way I could share the title of Empress with him” Marcus sighs tired.

“Am I descending into madness for these strong feelings I have for you?” you turn to look at him. Your hand moves to the end on top of his.

“I look into your eyes… and I feel safe, Marcus” you admit, straddling him. Your fingers trace his beard as you lean to kiss him deeply. He reciprocates and holds your hips steadily.

It’s a wild moment to openly share carnal passion, but neither of you cares. You push him against the feathery pillows and continue kissing. His hair gets tangled around your fingers and his forearms and hands have disappeared under your dress. You start throbbing and he gets hard. But the moment is suddenly interrupted by some footsteps near the room. In a blink of an eye, you get away from Marcus and he stands up from the bed too.

“Use the trail at the end of the hallway. I’ll see you tomorrow, satis” he says, kissing your forehead before you quietly leave his resting place.

Some guards were wandering around the place as usual. You skillfully pass by them, using the trail Marcus told you. But it’s dark and very quiet, not even illuminated by torches. Your sandals barely make a sound against the floors.

So it’s a huge surprise when a hand covers your mouth and the next thing you feel is getting slammed against the wall. It didn’t hurt you but it was violent.

You gasp for air and encounter your half-brother. He has his golden crown and velvet robes, his face almost clean of tints that weren’t his natural skin.

“What were you doing with General Acaius?” You frown.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” his ginger hair is the only thing that shines in the dark trail.

“Quit the lie, soror. Has he made you impure?”

Oh dear brother, if you knew my purity has been gone for many years. But the truth was that Marcus hadn’t claimed you his yet.

“No. And it should not be a matter of importance to you” he chuckles.

Geta isn’t an idiot. He had seen the way Acaius looked at you during dinners. He noticed you came back to rest later than usual. And it was making him boil in anger. His disgust towards you before your arrival was strong. But after you turned to be a delight for his taste, Geta was burning for you.

“Oh, but it is a matter of importance to me. You are my future wife” he says, threatening to seal his lips with yours. The arm that was holding you still sneaked around your waist, applying a little too much pressure.

“Do you think I like the thought of other men touching or even smiling at you?”

Oh… so he was jealous.

His lips gently brush your neck as you set your eyes on the moon, waiting for the moment to be over. His touch is vicious, possessive, and harsh. The trail his lips have followed from your collarbones to your throat ends in your chin, mere inches away from your lips.

“If we can even consider this love… you have an odd way of showing it” he lets you go, the cocky smile on his face never leaving.

“Love or not… you are going to be mine”

“I’m also the heiress of the Emperor. We’ll see about that, Geta.” You spit bitterly, literally running away from him.

You have converted into an enemy for him. And you had to be ready to walk cautiously. Because you had changed your mind. Perhaps you would lose the crown… but weren’t going to marry him.

…

You missed dates so badly, but then the following morning, when a plate of them was included in the morning, you couldn’t resist. You are eating alone. Until the doors open and your father appears followed by two guards.

“Father…” you stand up, making a reverence to him. He smiles, extending his arms to hug you.

“I have wonderful news. We’ve arranged an encounter for you to demonstrate your abilities in combat” You are extremely confused.

“What?” Your father sighs, breaking the hug.

“I’m aware you performed in celebrations back in Alexandria. This is just the perfect opportunity to show the senate and council you are a prepared lady to receive the title of Empress one day…”

“Father… as much as I appreciate the intention. I’ve performed as a way to train for battle; gods forbid us from having to go to war, but… here, your soldiers and slaves fight for the mere feeling of feeding the greediness of hierarchy. I can’t do that…”

You weren’t a target for the empire to show off. You were more than just a woman with the ability to carry a weapon. You valued your freedom. And ever since arriving in Rome, day by day, you feel that you keep slipping away from it.

“The decision is taken. Heavens know why but the official announcement of your engagement with Geta remains being delayed. Hence, I won’t turn the Senate and council against me when there's no need. I may only wish you good luck, dear” You remember Marcus. He could have voted against the encounter. He was the General.

Suddenly you are bursting in anger, making the coldest reverence to your father as he leaves.

Your angry steps lead your way to Marcus. You found him taking a rest on a nearby balcony. When he spots you, his smile vanishes.

“You couldn’t impede that brainless idea of me participating in a combat?” Marcus has to sigh, placing his hands on his hips. He was expecting your anger to be honest.

“I couldn’t say no. If it did, they would suspect. I already have your brother behind my back all the time” You can fight him because he’s right. But it doesn’t dissipate your anger.

“You are going to be fine. I may be able to arrange the rules. I can choose the gladiator that will fight you, but your father and brother have the last word. What weapon do you want to use?”

“The spear…” he nods.

“Female gladiators tend to wield the bow and sword. You can easily disarm her…” you are not scared, you are just frustrated.

“Teach me the methods warriors use here…” you mutter. Marcus nods, taking your hand and giving an apologetic look.

“You will win, my dear.” His fingers place some strands of your hair behind your ear, it melts your anger and transforms it into peace. You want to scream how much you desire him. But you must retain your feelings given the hatred days you were living.

“Let me thank you for the training in advance, General,” you say, getting on your knees.

“Good girl…” Marcus whispered as soon as your tongue started working on him.

…

The usual crowd in the Colosseum couldn’t be compared with the amount of screams and cheers from the people watching the emperor’s daughter fighting one of the greatest female gladiators in Rome; Calista.

The sandy floors were covered in an elegant tapestry that marked the square where the show was occurring.

You are sweating, there's blood running down your chin and you can’t breathe correctly. Calista was ordered not kill you, but for some reason, she seemed to be personally trying to knock you out.

She had a helmet and armor in gold and red. But it was hard to deny everyone was invested in the attire you wore. A golden mask of Neith, the god of war that covered your face and a gold vest and bare shoulders. Everyone thought you were insane for that.

You remember all the things Marcus told you. Soon after your father started the encounter, you learned gladiators were blinded by the necessity of seeing blood on their rival instead of following a technique of combat.

Calista’s sword is sharp enough to give you a long cut by the movement of a soft swatch. You yelp in pain and she kicks your ribs, making you fall to your knees.

Marcus stands worried from his seat, but he soon returns to his place after making eye contact with Geta, who sends daggers with his eyes. Marcus understood your brother was insane when he disapproved of the gladiator he had chosen. Geta picked the most sanguinary and violent warrior to fight you.

Marcus couldn’t do anything. But he was impressed by your skills. He sighed with joy everytime you slipped from Calista’s touch. Even your father was displaying a face of proud.

But it’s not the same for you. You enter in panic, knowing you are at full mercy, almost dropping your spare. Your father is about to stop the encounter. The crowd is impossibly louder. You want to throw up. The sweat mixed with nausea, the cold air of the night, and the dryness in your throat are too much to handle. But you refuse to lose. With the sharp edge of the spare, you cut Calista’s calf. She’s startled, ready to strike back when your leg pushes her on her back. The heavy sword she carries makes a loud noise. Her skull crushes against the floor. It gives you enough time to stand, place your foot in her throat and point the spare against her forehead, ending the encounter.

The cheers are disgustingly excessive. But you’re done. You did what your father asked. You take off the mask and look at your brother in anger. Geta offers you a fake smile. He was surprised to see you were able to slip away, from his evil plans, from defying your father.

You offer your hand to Calista, but she refuses. She looks like she wants to kill you. But she only reverences your family and leaves.

Everything is forgotten when you set your eyes on Marcus. You want to smile and run to his side. He sees you with adoration. He sees the reincarnation of Psyche in you. A woman who Marcus swears it’s even more graceful than Venus and Persephone themselves.

Marcus Acaius makes a decision; He must marry you.

…

After a banquet, your bones and muscles ache with each movement you make, but you run towards Marcus. You need to see him after such a long day. He waits for you in the secure spot of the farthest tower. His light robes and leaf crown are securely dressing him when you spot him. The gold in his attire matches your bronze bracelets and indigo dress.

He’s the man you desire. He’s the man that had offered you a real demonstration of affection. He wasn’t trying to manhandle you like everyone before did. It’s more than enough to make you think your prayers to Venus have worked. You collide in his chest, giggling.

“I love you”

Both of you say at the same time. It leaves you shocked. Marcus smiles and you have to kiss him to believe it’s real.

“I promise you… we’ll be together” you nod dying out of happiness. He kisses you back and you feel you want to cry out of happiness.

What feels like a second was an hour of kissing.

And Geta was able to witness some of that time. Drowning in a monstrous wave of jealousy, he ran towards the Emperor to accuse you of adultery. But it was too late, your father was out of the city for the rest of the day. Geta is beyond enraged with the news. So he sends part of his father’s cabinet to a brothel, hoping his evil plan would work.

Later, when he finds you going towards the garden, he fastens his pace to harshly grab your forearms and stop you.

“That General is no good for you.” He spits with disgust as you squirm away from his touch.

“Neither are you” you fireback, stepping backwards.

“Go find him. You should know he just uses you to have our father’s approval. So I insist you, go find him and see what kind of man he is after you leave his bed” You raise your hand ready to slap him, but you don’t. You simply turn away and keep walking.

Geta’s words echo through your mind. You question him, valuing the honesty of his words. Marcus was a man after all. There wasn’t a perfect man nor a perfect woman, but you liked to believe there was still good in the hearts of the people.

Perhaps Marcus would be disappointed by your mistrust. But the uncertainty of his loyalty was something you couldn’t risk.

That night, you go out in a linen cloak, hunting the man you love. The guards won’t know you went out prowling around the city.

It’s late, but not for the city. Although is not crowded, there are a lot of people in the market. You let yourself wander across the place. There’s handmade stuff that women and kids sell. It makes you think about power and how not all of the people had it. If you ever became Empress, you wanted to see a prosperous and bright city. You want to ensure them with security and peace. You want to get rid of eccentric stuff, including gladiators.

The sound of music along with laughter draws your attention to a specific place. At first glance, you think it’s a tavern. But as your feet made it to the entrance, you gasped in shock. There are more men compared to women. The females are scattered around the place. Some feed grapes to men. Others dance and use their bodies to charm. All of them have their chests bare, showing their breasts and silver bracelets. It shocks you to see some of the females naked, kissing between groups of four or more and almost fucking them at the sight of everyone. The wine smells cheap, the whole place smells like sweat and sex combined.

You see from afar a large table of men. Your eyes look at the head of the table and it causes a great mix of confusion and intrigue. Because it’s your Marcus who’s seated with those men. He talks and looks seriously intimidating with his sword resting on the table. Your heart starts racing as a woman gets closer. She raises her hand to touch him. Marcus turns to look at the woman. She has short blonde hair, pale skin, and purple fabric that barely covers her body. Your eyes water at the sight. Your lover, who promised find the way to be with you hours ago is there, surrounded by naked women and you can hear him cursing. When the blonde woman is about to sit in his lap, you leave the place running away. There’s not even time to tear yet, you are completely covered in shock and disgust.

Soon you are back. You gasp for air, opening the doors of the place you call home. Two guards let you enter and you throw your cloak to the floor. When you look at the end of the long hallway, you spot Geta talking with his counselor. At the sigh of you, he indicates the man to leave. You want to leave him behind so bad, you avoid his eyes but it’s his voice that stops you.

“I told you so…” he says with an evil smile.

“Be quiet…” his laugh is loud and it angers you more.

“He doesn’t care about you. Acaius only cares for power. He could never love you-“

“SILENCE!”

You push him towards the granite bench behind and he is taken aback.

Even more when you lean to smash your lips with his.

It’s disgusting. There’s no care, only two individuals fighting for control in the lips of each other. Even the beetroot juice you applied hours ago has transferred to your chin and Geta’s. His hand is resting with pressure on your nape, and you slightly pull his hair, making him groan before kissing you even harder.

Just when you are about to sit in his lap, you stop. You look at him in horror. There’s no way you just kissed him. That you almost succumbed to his touch. But you remember Marcus with that woman. What were you doing?

Geta sees you quietly crying before standing up from the bench and watching you bolt.

You run to the meadows. The place where everything began. And at that moment, you realized you had completely failed.

Fighting in that encounter with Calista for what? Unnecessary approval of men who would surely die before you birthed your first child.

You pleased your father to live in peace for what? To carry the weight of a narcissistic brother and a traitor lover.

Your prayers were in vain. The love you wanted to find was over before it even started. Because it wasn’t real. You should’ve stayed back in Egypt. Maybe you should have married Geta on the first day. At least whatever he did to hurt you would have a payback. But with Marcus, it resulted in an excruciating pain that you had never felt before. Which makes you feel so ignorant and brainless. All that ego your mother had helped you build collapsed at that moment. You just wished for a remedy. Which for sure didn’t exist. But there must be a way, to make everyone feel at least a drop of what you have.

—————————————————————

part two or what? (Literally didn’t add the part I wrote for the sneak peak lol)

taglist: @drewharrisonwriter @my-dearest-agent @yellowheartz @spookyxsam @natasharomanoffsmotorcycle @uncassettodiricordi @kluvspedritooo @littleblackcatinwonderland

[perfectsunlight]

[15] I'LL SHOW YOU

warnings: none

the morning came sooner than expected, with the sun announcing its arrival with beams of light through the cracks of the curtains in the living room. jennie stirred first, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of her daughter sleeping peacefully beside her. she watched the young girl for a moment, a sense of pride washing over her. 

jane was beautiful, well accomplished, and smart, maybe a bit too smart. her daughter was everything jennie had ever hoped she would be. as she continued to gaze at her sleeping child, she couldn’t help but feel a swell of love and admiration for the young woman she was becoming.

but it was such a shame that she wasn’t there to witness the majority of it.

slowly, she untangled herself from the blanket and stood up, careful not to wake her sleeping child.

the blackpink member tiptoed into the kitchen, determined to try and do something special for her daughter. she began gathering ingredients for breakfast, her mind filled with memories of jane’s favorite foods. as she reached for the mixing bowl, she heard the soft shuffling of feet behind her.

“good morning, valentine,” jennie greeted softly, turning to see her daughter standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. she could only turn her back and smile softly to herself. even now, after all these years, jane still couldn’t stay asleep once she wasn’t around.

“morning,” jane replied, her voice still groggy. soft tufts of dark hair framed her face, giving her a slightly disheveled look. she shuffled into the kitchen, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her. the new idol opened the pantry and reached for a box of cereal, but her mother’s voice stopped her from grabbing it.

“i was thinking about making breakfast for everyone so that way your grandmother doesn’t have to. i’m just going to make some pancakes, could you just help me make the batter?”

now jennie wasn’t completely lying, because she truly did want to make breakfast for everyone. but she was also hoping to use the excuse to spend some time with jane.

ivory’s cat-like eyes slowly blinked in surprise, not expecting the invitation. she glanced between the ingredients on the counter and her mother’s back that was still facing her. never in her life had jennie asked to do such a thing with her.

but was it really such a bad thing to try? 

jane hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, trying to suppress her stomach churning and her hands a bit nervous. performing never made her feel nervous, but somehow making pancakes with her mother felt more intimidating than inkigayo. 

 “sure, i guess,” she said, her voice a bit uncertain but nevertheless, she waddled over to the counter where her mother was. jennie turned, smiling gently. “great! just start by mixing everything in this bowl." she handed jane a large mixing bowl and the dry ingredients.

jane took the bowl and stood there, staring at it blankly. she hesitantly took a measuring cup and glanced at her mother. she wanted to curl up into a ball and evaporate into the wall behind her. however, she would never pass up the opportunity to make her grandmother’s life just even a little bit easier. 

or was she just telling herself that so she could manage helping her mother?

“i don't know what to do.” ivory said awkwardly, jennie turned to her daughter, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “you don’t know how to make pancake batter?” her mother asked gently, trying to not misunderstand what her daughter meant.

jane just shook her head, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her. her life as an idol meant her meals were all ordered for her, or she’d just buy things from the convenience store. but even before she became an idol, no one had taught her how to cook before. perhaps that was just another responsibility her mother failed to fulfill with her.

“i’ve never done it before.”

the mother’s heart sank. it was once again a reminder of how much she had missed out on teaching her daughter even just the simplest things. she put down the mixing spoon and moved closer to ivory.

“that’s okay,” jennie said gently. “i’ll show you. first, we need to measure out the flour.” she handed ivory a measuring cup and showed her how to scoop the flour and level it off.

the younger kim followed her mother’s instructions, her hands a bit stiff as she attempted to complete the task at hand. jennie guided her through each step, adding the baking powder, sugar, and salt to the bowl. as they worked together, jennie explained each ingredient’s purpose, hoping to make the process more engaging for her daughter.

and even though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, ivory was really having a decent time.

“now, we crack the eggs,” the yg idol stated, demonstrating how to do it without getting shells in the bowl. ivory tried it herself, and though she was a bit clumsy, she managed to crack the eggs successfully.

“wow, and you didn’t get any shells in it either.” jennie gave her daughter a small smile, feeling a sense of pride. it was such a simple task, but she couldn’t feel more proud of her baby girl.“see? you’re doing great.”

ivory gave a small smile, feeling a bit more confident. they continued adding the milk and melted butter, and jennie showed her how to whisk the ingredients together until the batter was smooth. “it’s important not to overmix,” her mother explained, gently putting a hand over jane’s and helping her mix for a few seconds. “now, just mix until everything is combined.”

when the batter was ready, jennie heated a pan and showed her daughter how to pour the batter and watch for the bubbles to know when to flip the pancakes. ivory watched intently, absorbing each detail.

as they cooked the pancakes together, jennie couldn’t help but feel hopeful. maybe her daughter didn’t hate her entirely. however, she didn’t want to have such thoughts just yet. 

jane was still her daughter, sure. but she was also her father’s daughter, and those parts of her would always be the more detached parts. sometimes jennie wondered if her baby girl felt like she’d be better off without her, but she quickly would remember that he was still out there, and she would rather die than let him have any contact with jane.

ivory was always, and would always be, jennie’s daughter. she would never be his, not even in the slightest sense.

“thank you for helping me,” jennie said softly as they plated the pancakes. ivory looked at her mother, feeling a mix of emotions. the hesitation was still swirling in her eyes, and she wasn’t ready to fully open up, but she appreciated the effort jennie was making. 

“no problem.”

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic @tjdc25 @st4r4ngel @jihyos-hoe @jxmis

CLOSED.

[dittanyinbloom]

Note Taking

Ominis Gaunt x fem!MC (there is only one gendered term in the very last line). 1.8k. No specific house. Fluff and a bit of MC embarrassing themselves.

Based on this post I made about having HoM with Ominis.

.💕✍🏻💕

“In today’s lesson, we will cover a truly thrilling event. . .,” Professor Binns had just started class, but half the students were already dozing off.

It was widely accepted that History of Magic was merely used as a free period. Whether that meant catching up on sleep or doing last minute homework for another class, one thing was certain: no one paid attention. Attendance hardly mattered since Professor Binns rarely ever engaged with the class directly. In fact, you would bet he didn’t even know a single students name or even the exact year. Everyday he floated into class, discussed whatever curriculum he felt like, then drifted off through the wall to his office at the end of the period without so much as a goodbye.

To say the least, it was no one’s favorite subject, that is, except you. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you practically skipped to your afternoon slot of History of Magic. With all the extracurriculars other professors sent you on, and the adventures you went on without their knowledge, you were elated to have time set aside for assignments and catching up on some sleep. Those horrible demiguise statues Mr. Moon asked you to find were really taking a toll on you lately.

Perhaps the most exciting part of class was that you didn’t share it with Sebastian Sallow. Now, he was a very lovely boy for helping you out on multiple excursions, but his presence could be intense at times. This could be simply fixed by spending time with your other friends. Natty, Poppy, and even Amit were great company and just as, if not even more helpful than Sebastian. But that boy had one thing drawing you back every day to meet up. .

Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian’s right hand man and arguably his moral compass. Oh, how you would spend hours practicing spells with Sebastian in the Undercroft for the smallest chance that Ominis would walk in to study, or have a chat, or sometimes even join in on the dueling. That was the only time you ever saw him without his school robes. Neatly folding up his sleeves and grinning like a mad man when he landed a blow on Sebastian, who as of late, rather deserved a few jinxes thrown his way.

History of Magic was the only class Ominis sat beside you in. It was hardly the place to make conversation since even the softest of whispers would be heard by the extremely bored students around you. Nevertheless, you were content with just sitting beside him and admiring his lazy smile as he drifted off into what was probably his fourth nap of the day.

That was one of the first odd quirks you had noticed about the boy. While you ran around the castle from one fool’s errand to the next, you often passed by Ominis lounging about on benches, windowsills, and most often the floor. Sometimes he was snacking or working on revisions, but more often than not the boy was merely napping, just out in the open, where anyone could step on him. The first few times, you had gently woken him up and offered to help him to his common room, but he always acted as though you were the strange one for not letting him sleep in the middle of a hallway in the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

Now whenever you saw him, you hummed in endearment and graciously covered him with your scarf as a makeshift blanket. You used to have an array of scarves, but now half of them were likely stuffed in a trunk deep in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory, never to be seen again. It was a small price to pay, in your eyes.

“Seb told me to tell you to meet us in the library after classes,” Ominis said as he leaned forward on the desk, getting in a comfortable napping position.

“Does he think you’re an owl?” You teased.

“Something about you being more likely to say yes if it comes from me.”

“I see,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear how flustered you had become. “So he’s scheming again?”

“You say again as if he quit to begin with.”

“Well, you know I can’t say no to an adventure.”

“Exactly why the two of you will be the death of me. Wake me up if anything crazy happens?”

Nothing ever would, at least, not while all the other students that usually caused trouble were sleeping as well. You dated your parchment for notes then began doodling to stay awake. As of late, the professors had been elated with your progress and stopped giving you so much extra work. Not much catching up needed to be done since most other students couldn’t take on a troll alone and live to tell the tale.

Your eyes wandered to study the pretty moles Ominis had scattered about his face and neck. The unhinged, love stricken part of your brain desperately wanted to draw little love hearts or flowers around them. Your fingers twitched, but you controlled your urges and drew hearts all over your notes instead. This was turning into a common occurrence. Most of your history notes contained one or two key points from Binns, a few random drawings, and many iterations of your deskmate’s name scribbled about. At the top corner of every parchment you would even write your name with his last name along with the date. And oh, how the two went so well together.

The period flies by while you daydream of holding Ominis’ hand or kissing his beauty marks as the two of you part ways. The sound of students scuffing their chairs in the worn wood flooring brings you back to reality. You tap Ominis on the shoulder. For a moment your hand lingers, drifting between his shoulder blades.

“Ominis, class has ended.”

“Already?” His voice was almost a whine which was strange because most students jumped at the opportunity to leave history class.

“Don’t sound too disappointed. Binns might offer to go on for another hour if he knows a student is willing to stay.”

You had one more class before meeting the boys in the library. Sebastian seemed to be awaiting your arrival, spotting you the moment you walked in, and waving you up to join them on the second floor. As you greeted them, you set your scarf and robes on the back of the chair.

“You really do need to come by our room and grab your scarves,” Sebastian commented. “They’re taking over.”

“Hmm, yes. I am missing quite a few at this point.”

The culprit, though it wasn’t entirely his fault since you were the one always covering up his sleeping form, went pink at the mention of scarves. Despite looking as though he wanted to add to the conversation, he quickly went back to writing the twelve inches for Sharp’s latest assignment.

“So, Sallow, why have you dragged me here today? Are we going treasure hunting again?”

“Sorry, little adventurer, today’s request is rather boring in comparison. Thought it would be a good time to start revising for O.W.L.s, and I need help in History of Magic. I’ve managed to fall asleep every single period since the start of term. . Quite impressive if you ask me.”

“Don’t know why you thought to ask me. I hardly pay attention in that class.”

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “But, Ominis said he can hear you writing notes all period.”

Your eyes flicker to Ominis almost in a look of betrayal. He seemed as focused as ever on writing, either exuding an excellent poker face or genuinely not showing any interest in being mentioned by Sebastian. Quickly, you swallowed down your own emotions and insisted, “Well, sorry. My notes for that class are very scattered. I mostly just draw to keep myself awake.”

“Anything would help. I honestly don’t even know what we’re meant to be learning about. Nellie heard there might be a quiz next week. My uncle can not hear about my grades slipping on top of everything else.”

Seeing the innocent look of terror on Sebastian’s face made you melt a bit. In his defense, he didn’t know you made a fool of yourself by doodling his best friends name across your parchment twice a week. He was just asking for notes, which was something the three of you often shared.

“I can. . read them to you?” You compromised.

Both boys gave you an odd look, but Sebastian agreed without much hesitation given how desperate he was.

“Suppose I should be writing this down too, if there really is a quiz coming up,” Ominis said with a grimace.

You unrolled your parchment and began to read. Both boys studiously jotted down every word. Hopefully you were explaining everything accurately. There were clearly periods in your notes where you had dozed off between key moments, but unless Binns was looking for his exact wording on the quiz, the three of should should be able to pass.

“It’s with an ‘A’, Grimbald, not Grimbold,” Ominis said out of the blue.

“Thanks,” Sebastian muttered as he went back to add a flick of ink to his ‘O’. He seemed unbothered but Ominis’ correction. You, however, were too tongue-tied to continue reading. Sebastian frowned at the silence and finally looked up at you. “Is there not more?”

“How. . ?”

“Oh!” Realizing your confusion, Sebastian was quick and rather proud to explain his best mate’s ability, “Ominis can hear the letters, or, dunno really. You explain it better, Ominis.”

Suddenly, Ominis went ridged like he had been caught in an act. “When the room is quiet enough, I can pick out the sounds of a quill or chalk on the board. Letters all have a distinct cadence to them. Some sound too similar to be distinct like ‘b’, ‘d’, and ‘p’, but I can make an educated guess.”

“So you can hear what people are writing?”

“Precisely!” Sebastian spoke up with a wide smile. “Brilliant, isn’t it?“

“It is. . quite the talent, Ominis.”

“Thank you.”

You cleared your throat and went on with the lesson. Just because Ominis knew Sebastian’s penmanship did not mean he had your memorized, or that he even listened in the first place. After all, he slept through every class, and you weren’t bold enough to write his name in such a way while he was awake.

Still, knowing of his ability left you wary. The next time you sat with Ominis in history class, you were meticulous with your note taking. No doodles, no love hearts, no childish name writing. Those days were over. They had to be because if Ominis somehow didn’t already know about your embarrassing crush, you were not going to give him the opportunity to find out.

This time when you wrote your name and the date at the top of the parchment, you used your own last name. After that was finished, you moved on to title it “The Goblin Rebellion of 1752”, but you hadn’t gotten past “The” when a hand landed on your knee.

Warmth spread across your thigh while chilling nerves sprinkled down your spine. You nearly fell out of your chair at the touch, causing Ominis to squeeze down harder, keeping you firmly in your seat.

“Ominis?”

He almost seemed angry, but he kept his voice a low whisper for only you to hear, “What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Gaunt? Title your notes appropriately.”

~You can find part two here~

[callimara]

Breath of the Wild!Jelsa AU (Analysis & Parallels)

Yes yes I know I’m at it again but dear reader, I ask that you once again HEAR ME OUT and LET ME COOK.

At some point in the middle of the day today as I am cleaning the house, the idea came to me like a vision and the more I thought about it, the more the lines started CONNECTING and MAKING SENSE.

In part I am writing this as I have a deep love for both The Legend of Zelda franchise (and Breath of the Wild IN PARTICULAR as my first Zelda game) AND Rise of the Guardians (I do not feel particularly strongly about Frozen aside from Elsa as a character, but I DO feel EXTREMELY strongly for Jelsa, which is NECESSARY for this AU and comparison to work!!!) and another part an attempt to get my very good, very intelligent, extremely GIFTED friend and favorite fic writer @therentyoupay into ANOTHER ship I am deeply passionate about: ZeLink.

So perhaps this analysis post can be best summed up as "Explaining ZeLink through the lens of Jelsa" or vise versa.

In fact, ZeLink is another ship I am already planning a video on, but for now, this particular AU calls to me and demands to be elaborated on and perhaps illustrated at some point 👀

Who is Who?

For this post, I will be focusing on the Three Bearers of the Triforce:

Ganon/Ganondorf (Triforce of Power),

Zelda (Triforce of Wisdom), and

Link (Triforce of Courage),

who are always being reborn and fated meet, and the central characters of every LOZ story (but we'll get to the Champions in the next post)

As the prevailing bearer of the Triforce of Power, Ganon or Ganondorf (his human form) is the archnemesis of Link and Zelda.

With titles such as The Prince of Darkness and The Demon King, it's only right that this role is given to Pitch Black.

Power

Unlike Link or Zelda whom, among their many incarnations, may not be in possession of their respective Triforces, Ganon is always the bearer of the Triforce of Power due to his sheer desire for ruling the world with an iron fist. This is the same desire expressed by Pitch Black in both the movies and books, as his ambition is to cover the world in darkness and fear: completely under his control. Their powers are similar in nature, it corrupts and leaves a stain (malice) on the wider environment. They share a love of conquest and destruction and delight in seeing those around them suffer.

Scheming

Though both Ganon and Pitch are undoubtedly capable of taking what they want with sheer brute force, both characters possess a penchant for scheming and tactical strategy. They conquer not only on the battlefield, but in the court of politics, where necessary. Though we don't see this demonstrated in BOTW, we do see his political savvy and the extend of his scheming in Tears of the Kingdom when he still possessed his human form. They are incredibly dangerous tacticians that is often one step ahead of the heroes, thus able to out-maneuver them and gain the upper hand.

Hubris

As is often their undoing, their confidence in being ahead causes them to lose their composure. Power corrupts, and this weakness of mind causes them to make fatal, self-destructive mistakes that create an opening for the Hero to seize.

A Hero Destined to Rise Against Him

In both of Ganon/Ganondorf and Pitch's cases, they are destined to be ultimately defeated by a Chosen Hero who wields a Weapon that can seal their Darkness.

Which segways us perfectly to our next character, our Chosen Hero!

Unsurprisingly, Jack Frost fits Link's role as the Hero of the Wild in the story perfectly.

Chosen for A Big Destiny

Although unlike Link, Jack was not personally aware of the "why" for his existence and recruitment into the Guardians until much much later, he was indeed, nevertheless chosen. The reasons for his choosing, in broad strokes, are similar to Link's circumstances. Both of them demonstrated high levels of relevant proficiency and prowess in their respective roles (Guardian/Royal Knight) which led to them being chosen for their respective titles. Link as the Princess' Appointed Knight and Legendary Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals the Darkness, and Jack as the Immortal Spirit of Winter and later, Guardian of Fun Destined to Save the Guardians and Defeat Pitch Black.

Rebirth

A striking resemblance between Jack and BOTW Link is perhaps their theme of "the end becomes the beginning" in which both experience Death After a Great Sacrifice and are Reborn Anew. Both of these fairy boys died protecting someone they cared about, regardless of cost or consequence, and upon being brought to life from the brink of death, they are forever changed as people.

For Jack, this comes in the form of new powers, new domains, and the new experience in being a Spirit. For Link, it's a bit more literal, as he seemingly adopts a much more open, lively, carefree personality in the absence of his former duties, burdens, and responsibilities that (in canon) brings him to resemble Jack Frost better than his former persona as a royal knight.

Loss of Memory

Another striking resemblance between Jack and Link is the circumstances of their rebirth, which came at the cost of their memories and their former identities. Not knowing who they were or what their purpose was, they wandered the land aimlessly in search of meaning, until destiny eventually guides them to their Reason for Existing.

In fact, both of their rebirths also involve being lifted from pools of water

But even though both Jack and Link recover some semblance of their memories and identities Before, it is unclear just how much left remained lost.

Past Lives

Let’s be real here, Pre-Calamity Link is NOTHING like Pre-Spirit Jack. While Pre-Calamity Link is serious, focused, stoic and Silent, Jack has pretty much always been the same person before and after his Rebirth. But, Jack was also a simple peasant boy who Definitely Had No Ambition To Become A Knight. But in this AU, let’s say he did. Let’s say he was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps to become a royal knight. Let’s say he finds the Legendary Weapon That Seals The Darkness, and that seals his fate.

Certainly, he’ll never be as serious and stoic or Silent as Pre-Calamity Link was, no matter how much pressure he’s in. But perhaps, it makes him just a bit more Intense and Guarded.

Lone Wolf But Stronger in a Pack

Obviously we know that Jack Frost flew solo for pretty much his entire life as a spirit, and he gained quite a renown for himself in doing so, and it it s indisputable that while he was Strong On His Own, he was Much Stronger With The Guardians. Despite never working in a team before, teamwork came naturally to Jack, and it only served to amplify his strengths while covering his weaknesses.

Now, what about Link? For the majority of BOTW, Link travels alone, and while he is completely Lethal and Unstoppable as is, similarly to Jack, he only really grows stronger through reconnecting with the Ghosts of his deceased friends, who each lend him their Power and Support in a more literal sense. Once you resolve each quest in the Four Regions of Hyrule, your friends will make the final battle against Calamity Ganon much easier than if you were to head straight there by yourself.

And of course, Link would not have been able to defeat Calamity Ganon at all if it hadn’t been for Princess Zelda, and the reverse is also true. They must work together to Seal Calamity Ganon for the next 10,000 years.

Devoted

Both Link and Jack are deeply dedicated to those they have formed attachments to. If you played BOTW and/or TOTK, you know just how deeply devoted and dutiful Link was to Zelda, willing to let the entire Kingdom of Hyrule fall to keep her safe, choosing to stay with her and help her escape the kingdom (abandoning his Duty, abandoning his Destiny) and just as willing to lay his life down to spare hers.

Jack is similarly dedicated as we see from his interactions and protectiveness of Baby Tooth and Jamie Bennett, and how he charged straight into the eye of the storm of Pitch’s sand vortex to save Sandy. Those who give love to him, he gives love readily back.

Wild

This one is quite self-explanatory, but I will explain anyway!

As the titular Hero of the Wild, Link is every bit a woodsman and outdoor survivalist as his name implies. He is an unstoppable force of nature that can and will survive anything nature throw at him (be it lightning strikes, monsters, or Laser-Blasting-Malice-Possessed Guardians [no, not THOSE Guardians]). Link thrives in the wilderness, just him and the elements, and perhaps the occasional pot lid and soup ladle (if he’s really strapped for weapons, a mop will also do). Really, it speaks to his resourcefulness and resilience, his independence and self-sufficiency. Though perhaps, at the cost of certain things like manners, propriety, and respect for public and/or private property (of course he had to break all those clay pots, what if there was something inside? Of course he had to jump into the garden pond and grab fish with his bare hands, how else is he going to get protein for his seafood meunière? of course—). Much like Jack Frost.

If there was one word to describe the Winter Spirit, it was certainly, and similarly, ‘Wild.’ After all, he is undoubtedly the most unpredictable spirit to become a guardian, and even before then, he had made a name for himself for being quite formidable and intimidatingly ferocious when he wants to be. He does as he pleases with no fear or shame of what others may think. And similarly, this often lands both Blond Fairy Boys a fierce scolding from many people, not that it deters their behaviour in any way shape or form.

They will learn absolutely nothing from these scoldings and will 100% do it again. But stealthier, craftier, perhaps.

Unless, of course, the scolding comes from a Particular Wise and Beautiful Princess. Only then they will consider. And it is only this Wise and Beautiful Princess who is capable of tempering their wildness just enough to be a functioning member of the community.

Fearless

As the Triforce of Courage, it is perhaps a given that its bearer will readily face down any challenge or adversary without hesitation. No matter how big, no matter how impossible, no matter what. Jack and Link are always ready for a fight, for action; their heart pumps for the thrill of adventure and the unknown, new experiences, meeting new people. The two are travelers who prefer to take the scenic—read: deeply unconventional and unsafe—route, taking as many detours as possible. And if they land in trouble, then it’s all the more Fun.

Jack and Link are Fearless in every way one could be. For Link, it is simply in his immortal, undying nature. For Jack, as Fear’s archenemy, he cannot afford to harbor it within him, and that is precisely how he navigated his way through immortality: with Fun and Light and Hope. Diving headfirst from a giant waterfall? Bring it on! Taking on an entire hoard of ferocious monsters alone with nothing but a pot lid and soup ladle? Challenge accepted. Jumping on the backs of Animals You Definitely Shouldn’t Use as Mounts and riding them anyway? Give them five minutes.

Notoriously Good-Looking

To keep it short and sweet, both Link and Jack have been described in their respective media (by various characters) to be notably handsome, and they themselves are aware of this fact and Very Confident About It. They are very comfortable in their own skin (perhaps too comfortable) though their handsomeness does not always shine through, in great part due to their Erratic Behaviour and Strange Fashion Choices (“look, it made perfect sense at the time.”).

Jack-of-all-Trades

Both Jack and Link are undoubtedly masters at their signature weapons (Jack with his Shepherd’s Crook and Link with the Master Sword and Hylian Shield), though Link has a more diverse skill set than Jack as per the ROTG movie. Link excels with any kind of weapon (or even household objects) he can get his hands on: short swords and clubs, two-handed weapons (including but not limited to: great swords, axes, and bats), spears, wands, and arguably his strongest weapon, the bow and arrow, with which he is able to shoot up to five arrows at once in a spread and enter Bullet Time when he is in the air. And he can also do all this on horseback, of course. It makes him an incredibly versatile fighter and well-equipped for survival in the wild.

While Jack is limited to his Shepherd’s Crook in the movie, he does not exclusively wield it as such. In the action scenes of the movie, we see Jack wield his staff to cast magic like a wand, attack with the slicing motion of a sword, the stabbing of a spear, and even the swing of a bat. In the books, 5 years after the movie’s release, William Joyce has also written Jack to be able to shapeshift his staff into a bow and arrow, giving him a more Hunter-like appearance

He is also apparently fluent in squirrel and chipmunk speak. I did not know this.

Something I did in “more than you know” (my collab fic with therentyoupay) was push this ability a bit further to allow Jack to shapeshift his staff into a variety of weapons, not just a bow and arrow, such as an ice sword or axe. We can apply the same idea here, to better reconcile the skillsets of Jack and Link.

But a shared key trait that already exists is that without any weapons (barehanded) Jack and Link cannot fight (unlike their Princesses, who are stronger with their magic as opposed to any physical weapon).

Snowboarding/Shield-Surfing

Fun is an essential component of Jack’s character. It is his CORE, what makes him WHO HE IS. However, it is also an important part of Link’s character, particularly post-Calamity. Aside from frolicking in—read: terrrorizing—the wilderness, campfire-cooking, and completing Korok puzzles, a favorite pastime of Link’s is an activity called shield-surfing, which is exactly what it sounds like: using his shield to sled down hills of grass, deserts, and snowy mountains. And he’s quite good at it too! Canonically, he holds several records in shield-surfing from the snowy peaks of Hebra to the vast Gerudo Desert, and even incorporates it into his fighting.

And who else would be particularly terrific at snowboarding other than Jack Frost himself? It was actually stated in the DVD Featurette for Rise of the Guardians that Jack’s entire concept was inspired by skateboarders, and that they wanted him to glide in the wind with the skill of an Olympic snowboarder (hey anyone wanna make an AU with Olympic Snowboarder Jack?), which we do see him doing with his staff at several points in the movie!

Clearly, this is a perfect parallel. A mirror even. If you will.

Smart Mouth

One of my (and I’m sure many others) favorite things about Jack is his quick-with and sharp tongue. He’s always ready with a sassy remark or a snide comment and I think that’s one of the things that make him so Fun! Now, for a comparison with Link, you’re probably thinking this should be a major difference as Link is well known to be The Silent Protagonist Ever, but as many players of BOTW and TOTK have noticed and accurately pointed out, Link is given dialogue options for the players to choose from when interacting with NPCs, which in itself implies that that is Link speaking and responding to NPCs questions.

I am of the opinion that these are Link’s own words rather than the “player’s” responses being spoken through Link, and the reason I think this is because these options show off some degree of personality rather than remaining neutral to allow players to project onto them, and often times more or less reiterate the same message, just in different words (hinting that IC, Link will ONLY agree or disagree to those things).

some of my favorite examples of Link’s dialogue options:

Making seal puns while renting sand seals:

The one below is exemplary because the only two options are either to flirt shamelessly or ruin her day.

This is also not including the fact Eiji Aonuma (the creator of The Legend of Zelda) himself has said that all Links are “bastards” in their own unique ways and indeed, the persistent inclusion of his jerky and sassy dialogue options across all LOZ games is further evidence of this.

So of course, who better to keep this sassy lost child in check than The Wisest Person in the Land?

Zelda Hyrule, the Triforce of Wisdom is the perfect role for someone like Elsa Arendelle.

There are many parallels between this iteration of Zelda (as opposed to other Zelda’s of the different games) and Elsa.

Wisdom

As the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, all incarnations of Zelda are blessed with superior intelligence and wisdom, traits that are also prevalent in Elsa. The Triforce of Wisdom doesn't JUST impart divine wisdom upon its holder, it also grants the holder untold mystical abilities (see: Elsa's ice powers and ability to create sentient life), and the ability to heal others (see: Elsa thawing Anna and the Fjord). The Triforce of Wisdom leads its holder to make the right decisions, making them wiser than any mortal. Elsa is much the same, though hers is a result of her own temperament and upbringing.

As the Triforce of Wisdom, Zelda is a constant presence of guidance and support for Link in many of her game iterations (including this one), and she has always stood side by side with him to defeat Ganon.

Duty-Bound

Both Elsa and Zelda have momentous weights on their shoulders as the Crown Princesses of their respective kingdoms, and this is a responsibility that both Princess-turned-Queens take very seriously. Though this position brings them no joy—if not, in fact the complete opposite—they are deeply devoted to their cause, their kingdom, their families, and as a result, they continue to strive to excel in it and meet seemingly impossible expectations. They force themselves to fit the mold of this role, even at the cost of who they are as a person and their personal wants or desires.

Hiding their true selves

This is a very large proponent of both Elsa and Zelda's struggle in their respective stories:

Elsa has had to hide her ice powers for the majority of her life. But her ice powers are something that is inextricably a large part of who she is, something she cannot change or be rid of, and yet it is something she was made to never express or show or hone. Instead, she has had to suppress and neglect them to pass as "normal." She had been raised to associate her powers with fear, with danger, with solation. She was made to see them as useless, something to be ashamed of, and something to never be given a second glance.

Zelda is a scholar and a researcher, she is a curious person with a passion for studying the world around her. She wants to learn, to study, to educate, but instead this goal is considered "frivolous" and "unimportant" by her father. It is stamped as a distraction, and blamed as the reason Zelda has yet to awaken her Sealing powers, despite the fact her passion and determination for research was fueled by her shortcomings as The Princess with the Blood of the Goddess. It was her way of contributing to the coalition's preparations against The Calamity, even without her powers.

Additionally both Elsa and Zelda have a mask for who they believe they should be: a regal, elegant, level-headed royal who is mature and Above Silly Games when in reality, they are vivacious young women who would have loved to engage in said Silly Games, and have more love to give than what they were allowed.

Grand Destinies

Another similarity that is shared between Elsa and Zelda are the grand destinies that awaited them, and were expected to fulfill. There are slight divergences in both, but the broad strokes remain the same:

Both royals possess a unique and unstoppable power that drives the narratives of both stories forward

They are both fated to be the Key in preventing a Great Calamity (Zelda was destined to seal away Calamity Ganon, a force of hatred and malice that arose every 10,000 years with her Sealing Powers, and Elsa was destined to become the Bridge between the Spirits and the Humans in the Enchanted Forest as the Fifth Spirit, which allowed her to prevent Arendelle's destruction)

Both their powers are mysterious and unknowable, and its growth and behavior eludes the both of them

Their respective powers brought them great distress (for completely opposite reasons, mind, but we'll get to that) and is a constant source of struggle in their stories.

Loss

Both queens lost their parents at a young age. The absence of their parents caused a deep trauma that affected their ability to regulate or control their powers in some way. Zelda losing her mother so young meant she never got the chance to learn to use her powers. This lack of guidance would later indirectly result in her losing her father due to her not being able to awaken her powers in time.

For Elsa, it is much the same. The lack of guidance in her life only further widened the ridge not only between herself and her sister, but also the wider community. It prevented her from being able to form connections as well as she could have.

Adored

Despite her Shortcomings, Failures, and Insecurities, both Zelda and Elsa are always surrounded by love and people who adore them. These people see them for them, who they are as people as opposed to their powers, their position, and their destinies. These people see how hard she works and appreciate her dedication, and they are always ready to offer comfort and reassurance to assuage their Negative Thoughts. They may not always remember or be aware of this, but they are always the apple of many’s eyes.

Shared Personality Traits

A quick list of similar key personality traits between Zelda and Elsa that make Elsa a great stand-in for Zelda because there is Just So Much

Withdrawn, hesitant, unsure of herself (AT FIRST)

TERRIFIED of the destiny that awaited them (Fulfilling a prophecy, ruling a kingdom and potentially destroying it)

Isolated and made to keep to herself

Studious, intelligent, diligent

Resourceful and determined

So full of fear, yet fearless nonetheless

Awe-inspiring leaders

Well-mannered and conducts herself well (except where Certain Blond Men are involved)

Slow to warm up to people, especially when it comes to Certain Blond Men That Follow Them Around Everywhere

Has a hard time talking about or expressing their feelings until it's All Just Too Much and Entirely Too Late

But deep down are very warm and kind

Patient and understanding, usually. But Certain Blond Men tend to test their limits. (at least, at first)

Differences

Of course, there are also differences that may potentially be Game Breaking, so let's discuss a few of them and how they could be accommodated

The Fear of their Power

Where Elsa feared her power due to its strength and her inability to pacify or control it, Zelda's fear comes from the fact she may not even have the powers she was supposed to have, compounded by the fact that the Kingdom's survival entirely hinges on Zelda mastering her powers and using it.

Where Elsa fears using her powers, Zelda fears not being able to use hers in time. Though the fear itself is a common thread, the cause is very much opposite and paramount to the driving force between their respective stories.

Failure

A big component of Zelda's story that Elsa lacks in hers. When Elsa fails or makes a mistake, she is able to undo all the damage she caused with minimal consequences to herself and the wider environment (resurrects Anna, thaws the fjord, discovers the secrets of her family's past, reconnects the spirits to humans, saves Arendelle from a tidal wave).

When Zelda fails, the consequences are permanent and lasting. Failing to awaken her powers in time—despite spending hours for multiple days on end praying before the Goddess statues for guidance in nothing but ceremonial robes, and occasionally in freezing cold waters until she collapsed—she was unable to stop the destruction of her kingdom, the deaths of her friends and family (who went to battle for her, on her behalf), and even (for a time) the person she loved, who refused to leave her side until the bitter end. Zelda would never see her friends and father again, her champion had lost a majority of his memories (save for the ones he had of her) and may never be the person she once knew, and the Kingdom of Hyrule as it was will never return. The damage has been done, and she can only pick up the pieces of What Remained and start anew.

This fear and burden of failure is a pervasive theme in Zelda's story. She is perceived as a failure by her own father, and even the wider kingdom court due to her inability to awaken and wield the power that had been passed down from generation to generation. This is an aspect lacking in Elsa's story, who was the first in her name to wield ANY sort of magical ability.

Resentment

Due to her inability to awaken her powers, Zelda developed a resentment towards Link, who had already found and been chosen by the Master Sword and stepped into his Destiny as The Hero Who Wields The Sword That Seals The Darkness. She saw his accomplishments, his skill and readiness as a slight against her own shortcomings, and the presence of the legendary sword on his back served as a constant reminder of her failures. She projected her insecurities onto him, believing that he too thought she was a failure, that he looked down on her or was disappointed in Who She Was despite her supposedly being the Princess With The Blood Of The Goddess even though he adored her from the start, since the first time they met, and it only furthered their divide. At least, In The Beginning.

unfortunately, we live in a reality where Jack and Elsa have never met in any official media, and so, we cannot say if Elsa and Jack would absolutely react in a similar way to each other under the same circumstances, but this gives us plenty of room to work with!

Reconciliation

As this is a BOTW AU for Jelsa first and foremost, we will be applying aspects of Zelda's story into Elsa's to blend her better in the world, and if you've read my collaborative Jelsa project with Kris (more than you know) you may see that some of these aspects have already been implemented and work very well to create a compelling story.

Elsa, instead of struggling with Too Much Power she Fears and Cannot Control, is unable to summon them from inside of her, despite the Kingdom's safety entirely hinging on her mastery of it. This fills her with great distress and self-loathing, causing her to doubt herself and her own self-worth in relation to her powers (or lack thereof) in a similar way to her original portrayal, just for differing reasons, and she finds herself projecting these feelings onto Jack due to the pressure and stress of it all.

However, they do reconcile. She learns the error of her ways, apologizes for her mistake, and they start over with a clean slate. Finally, they begin to develop a bond, growing closer than they thought they would.

And of course, it wouldn't be BOTW without devastation and great loss, and so Elsa (like Zelda did IC), was unable to save her kingdom from The Great Calamity, losing everyone she cared about in the process. Including her beloved sister Anna.

And on the verge of losing Jack too, her desire to protect him—her Love—finally awakens the dormant power inside of her. To save his life, she places him in the Shrine of Resurrection while she goes to face the calamity alone… and would go on to contain it for the next 100 years.

However, she continues to hold on to hope that The Chosen Hero, her Appointed Knight, will Rise again one day, and finish what they started.

[greenboyfriend]

choose a fantastic green thing (tarot reading)

"what do you need to know?" image 1: ahh, a classic. woman with fish. iridescent fish, no less. image 2: women want him, men want to be him. whether you love him or hate him, you can't deny... he is a bug. image 3: the bowl. image source not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.

1.・。.・゜✭

hello friends. what a nice pull! you may be giving or receiving a gift as an act of charity or kindness. it seems like you’re unaware of something, but it’s not a bad thing. consider it blissful ignorance. it may be wise to stay in this state, shunning negativity/corruption. also, some of you may be dealing with children/ a child? maybe someone is having a baby?!

nevertheless, you’re trusting your intuition at this time, and it’s serving you. however, you may be a bit apprehensive about a change/transition you’re going through. know that it’ll happen no matter what you do! you’ll have to eliminate excess one way or another, cutting down to the bare essentials. it’s scary to go through change where you’re unsure what will happen, but you’ve got to do it at some point.

and anyway, you’ve got your intuition at your side. tune in with yourself however you know best, whether that be taking a walk outside, listening to your favorite song, etc, it will help you to regroup.

being sympathetic and loving towards others will also work in your favor. try to open up, and give others what you would like to receive yourself. “forgiving and forgetting” may also be relevant for some of you.

(6 of cups, death reversed, ace of cups)

2.・。.・゜✭

holy FUCK, you need to pump the brakes. holy FUCK, whatever it is, SLOW THE HELL DOWN!!! four of swords literally came flying out of the deck before i even got the chance to shuffle. take this as the universe/your future self urging you, begging you, pleading on hands and knees, to CHILL OUT!

yes, we all know you are very determined and forthright. yes, we all know it, and we all know that has turned out very well for you in other situations. however. at this point, you’re gambling whether things will go your way, and you can tell. loosen your grip on those reigns! resting ain’t so bad!! not every moment needs to be jam packed with activities.

i feel like you know that, but you don’t want to accept that it’s true, or can’t. despite this, you’re feeling the effects. the 10 of swords spells exhaustion & burn out– finding yourself depleted, full of swords, and on the ground (in vain); all the while, the call for action has not even arrived yet. 

consider yourself. if you need to have a goal, think of it this way: how can you most effectively relax? what activities (or lackthereof) will make you feel the most refreshed when the time comes to get moving again? in a sense, take all the anxious energy you’re feeling, and put it to use by taking care of yourself. you’re not going to be able to succeed in the way you want to if you’re completely exhausted from ignoring your own needs.

so relax! if you’re not sure how, beg the universe for help. that’s what i did, and now, i have a cat. 

(the chariot reversed, 4 of swords, knight of swords, 2 of wands, 10 of wands)

3.・。.・゜✭

your cards strike me as very sweet, my bowl lovers… after going through a trauma in your past, you’re working towards healing by opening up to those around you. now is a great time to be intimate, and not just in the romance way! maybe you’re interested in moving forwards with this, but you aren’t sure which path (which person/people, perhaps) to take. not to fear, however!! page of cups is here! let your heart/intuition lead you, and don’t be afraid to have some fun with it.

consider your emotions exactly as they are: does this person make you feel happy? secure? take your knee jerk reactions and mix them with your observations. after that, the choice should be clear.

six of swords is not always the most fun of cards (typically denoting healing, sloughing through the slop, ect) but trust that where you’re going certainly is… a blast, that is!! it may be a celebration you’re heading towards, but more than anything, it seems like you’ll gain a new sense of freedom. with the page of cups and six of swords present, this is likely how you approach your feelings & relationships, and how they’ve been impacted by your past. expect to shed some light on these patterns, and even overcome them entirely!*

these last two cards cement this message. if you go after what you want, you’re certain to meet success! it can be scary, and it might take a while, but keep trying! you can do this!!!

*for the time being, anyway. progress is not linear! sometimes it's 2 steps forwards to go 1 step back and that's ok!!!

(4 of wands reversed, page of cups, 6 of swords, 7 of cups reversed)

(pulled later: 6 of wands reversed, page of pentacles)

Ws all around my friends

[gatheringbones]

[“Turns out that being a lesbian outside of the privacy of your own home was quite hard. I’m not talking about the various manifestations of homophobia—oh, that old thing. I’m talking about scoring. Picking up chicks. (As it turns out, I would come to prefer the type of woman few would recognize as female, the type who would cheerfully deck you if you called her a chick, but might, if I were lucky, see me as such: a chick, a babe, a femme fox.)

In the oeuvre of Mr. Spillane, being a lesbian seemed so easy, like shooting fish in a barrel. In my favorite lesbian novels, No Blonde is an Island and My Gun is Quick, all a gal had to do was brush up against another woman by the water cooler and, watch out, the sapphic sparks would surely fly. Lesbianism was something any woman could do, no special equipment, messy creams or liquids were required.

But when I walked into my first dyke bar in New York City, I had a rude awakening. It was like transferring to a new high school. No, it was worse than that. A new junior high school. You walk into the class on the first day and everyone turns to stare. Your clothes, your hair, the way you move, it’s all wrong. You have to change everything or die a horrible and lingering death.

I guess the moral of this story is that there are some pursuits, such as lesbianism, that one can’t learn from a book, no matter the author. A more crass sort might make some tasteless jokes at this juncture about “boning up” on lesbianism, or about “hands-on experience,” but the reader can be assured this dyke will not sink to that level.

I watched the other women dancing, talking, flirting. All transactions were conducted in a lingo as incomprehensible to me as straight guy sports speak. My late-seventies disco fever look was out of place here. Everyone looked like they’d raided the closet of their bigger, older brother while he was out repairing refrigerators.

I was the only one wearing makeup.

Someone approached me: “This is a gay bar.” I shriveled up and a gust of wind blew me out into the street.

I had no skills. No lesbian skills. I was stared at, rather than cruised, at the bars. I couldn’t find a way of singnaling to another dyke that I was open for business, a friend of Dorothy, in the life, on the bus. Let alone desperately horny.

Somehow I managed a few invites to lesbian parties. I’d figured out that wearing lipstick was wrong, but I was still doing it. I’m such a congenital WASP that my lips disappear without makeup; I couldn’t imagine having sex without lipstick. I had tried to pull a lesbian look together: oversized second-hand men’s clothes, an unbuttoned black vest, but Annie Hall does not work on someone five feet tall.

Nor could I play softball. When something is thrown at me, even if it is specifically designed for that purpose, I automatically duck. All I had going for me in the lesbian skill department was ownership of a cat. Enough to break the ice, but not cinch the deal.

Certainly I couldn’t just come out and ask some other dyke to show me the ropes, so to speak. The seventies were still going on even though it was now the eighties. Feminism and lesbianism had kind of merged, become one big multinational entity with Andrea Dworkin as CEO. You had to be sneaky to get laid.

Yikes. It had been so easy with men. All you had to do was bend over at the bowling alley and something would happen.

After two years, the drought ended. I saw a sign that advertised: “Double-X-Rated Christmas Party for Women.” The party was held in the basement of a Catholic church. Perhaps the priests had passed out upstairs and had no idea what was going on. Or perhaps the priests were the drag queens working the bar. Nevertheless, I was there as soon as the doors opened. And the doors were not the only thing that opened.

I walked into the basement where the party was taking place and saw rows of thrift store tuxedoes, second-hand prom dresses. The doorperson made it clear that these outfits could be borrowed for the evening. After they checked their coats, many party-goers were borrowing outfits from the racks and disappearing into the bathroom to amend their attire. As the evening went on, I noticed more and more women trading in their flannel and denim for sharkskin and taffeta.

At this, my first encounter with the women who produced the WOW Festival and would later open the WOW Cafe in a tiny linguini-shaped storefront on East Eleventh Street, I fell in love. In love with all of the women, with their outrageousness, their unruly desire. I wanted desperately to be a part of whatever it was they were doing…if the WOW Cafe had been a support group for lesbian skeet shooters, that’s what I’d be doing now.

Instead, I found theater, or it found me. And the theater, it seemed, offered a wonderful solution to my involuntary celibacy: the casting couch. In theater you are encouraged to have sex with as many people as possible; it’s an integral part of the process. At least at WOW it seemed like the shows were almost an afterthought to the flirting, a byproduct of the endless parties where women of every imaginable gender rubbed up against each other.

This last paragraph reads like a natural cue to cross-fade to the Story of the First Girlfriend, doesn’t it? At this point, I should see a stranger across a crowded room, our eyes should lock, and the violins should swell like wieners on the grill. But this scene isn’t part of my coming-out story. Who even remembers my first girlfriend? Not me. I remember lots of bodies, I remember rooms lit by lots of small lights, and above all else, I remember lots and lots of Rolling Rock. This movie doesn’t end with a soft-focus closeup on two women kissing; this is a coming-out story that crescendos into a crowd scene. It’s a wide-angle shot. The climax of my coming-out scenario isn’t a closeup on a lesbian couple but a panorama of a lesbian world.”]

holly hughes, from what comes first, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[hoshigray]

hi! i’m not quite sure if you’re comfortable with this but could you do toji taking care of his bratty gf that’s on their period? no pressure especially if you’re not comfortable! thank you so much! <33

Oh, dw anon, I'm totally comfortable writing this kind of stuff, but thanks for checking with me tho c: Didn't know what approach to go with this, but felt like fluff would be the best fit (since ik not everyone's into period sex; perhaps an idea I can go back on later *shrugs*). Please enjoy, and I hope you like this! ♡ Also, this is 3 for 3 on the request streak, holy shit haha! Cw: Toji x fem!reader - fluff - Toji trying to be a good bf and lowkey domestic - the reader is a lil whiny, but Toji still loves you - tummy massages!! - some light-hearted comedy; reader trying to annoy Toji lol - pet names (baby, sweetie, princess) - just you and Toji being a couple :3 Wc: 1.1k

"Toji?"

The man hums but doesn't turn to you, watching the television from the floor while you lay on the couch.

You try again. "Tojiiiiii~"

He rolls his eyes at your sing-song attitude, finally turning to your face. "Yeah, baby?"

"Would you please add more water to the kettle for me? My water bottle's getting cold, and my feet hurt."

With a huff, he gets up and walks to the kitchen. "Sure thing, sweetie." You hum into your couch pillow while wiggling on the water bag you're lying on, taking in whatever's left of the lukewarm storage bottle.

Today has been quite a busy day on your end. Amid two midterms, a group project, and a paper due at 11:45 p.m. tomorrow, you still have work to do today. And to top it all off, your period started two days ago, meaning you're suffering as of now. Not only is stress from college drowning you, but your body makes the pressure tenfold more painful to the point of wanting to shut down.

This is why you've spent your Friday afternoon cooped in your apartment and avoided talking with or seeing anyone, trying to focus on your work while dealing with your personal predicament. Especially texting your boyfriend, Toji, that you won't be able to see him for dinner at his favorite ramen place.

Nevertheless, the older man comes knocking on your door with a bag full of your favorites from the restaurant, saying he'll just spend the night with you at your place and help with whatever you need. Though you tried to decline his offer, his company has been very comforting.

However, since he came here with sincere intentions, you want to test his patience. With a cheeky smile pulling your lips, you start your act.

You hear Toji press the button to heat the water up, his heavy steps prominent of his return to you in the living space. He plops back down on his place on the floor, leaning against the couch you're lying on and putting his attention back on the TV.

Well, he tries to.

"Tojiiii~," You see the rise and fall of his shoulder sync with the heavy exhale escaping through his nose. Giggles are stifled, but your smile is wide when he looks back at you with one brow scrunched down.

A stern "What?" is thrown in your direction.

A tiny giggle slips out. "Can you please massage my tummy?"

He looks dead at your face before he scoffs. "Do I look like your personal maid or somethin'?"

"No, you're my wonderful, handsome, and caring boyfriend," You bring a foot up to tap his shoulder, to which Toji grumbles. To his dismay, you continue to tease him with your poking. "As a caring boyfriend, you should attend to your lady when she is in insufferable pain."

"Poke me with your toes again, and I'll chew 'em off." Okay, that's when you stop pestering the older man, holding in your laughter as he scowls with a devilish smirk. Another huff of air exits his lungs before he gets up from his spot once again, and you reposition yourself for him to sit on the couch facing you. He places the water bottle on the floor. "You got your own hands, doncha?"

"Of course, but I asked for your hands." He glares at you though you pay it no mind, lifting your shirt to pat your stomach. "Now, massage me!"

Toji shakes his head yet lifts his hands and places them on your exposed abdomen, calloused and scarred fingers squeezing your plush skin. "So annoyin', ya fuckin' brat." You blow a raspberry. "I shoulda stayed at the ramen joint."

"Pfft, please, you know you don't go there alone anymore. Might've gotten bored and brought yourself here regardless." You close your eyes and sink into the feeling of the man's fingers rubbing your stomach.

He only replies with a small 'hmph' and continues with the task thrown onto him.

This continues for a few moments, and you enjoy the man's hands roaming your belly. His palms and fingers' rough yet gentle manner makes you feel like the cramps are no longer a problem. It feels so pleasant. Curious, you open an eye to stare at the man before you.

The look on Toji's face displays nothing but pure focus, looking at his work as he massages you. Raven bangs cast shade from the ceiling lights. The man had soft emerald eyes, yet keen as they zero in on your physique as he skilfully kneads your abdomen with his digits. His lips are kept in a neutral line, and you can't help but look at his scar when he licks his teeth.

The more you examine him, the more you realize just how lucky you are to see this side of him. And maybe how lucky you are to have such a man deal with you even during times like this.

"Whatcha lookin' at me for, princess?"

Toji's gruff voice snaps you back, realizing he caught you surveying him. A grin dashed on his face. You decide to toy with him one more time. "Oh, Tojiiiii."

The smirk immediately disappears, replaced with a look that screams mild annoyance. You let out a burst of laughter, rocking your head back and forth and laughing harder every time you peer back at his face. "Fucking what now, ya damn brat?" He doesn't try to hide the irritation in his voice, and you can feel him glare holes into you while you laugh into your hands.

You calm yourself down, speaking in chuckles. "You know I love you, right?

"Shut the hell up." Not a single change to his face.

"No, I—pfffthaha," giggles escape your lips as you try to center yourself to speak appropriately, placing your hands on his big ones that rest atop your tummy. "I mean it, I really do! I appreciate you coming here and dealing with me and my whiny ass. If you hadn't been here, I'd probably be rotting in my bed right about now. I love you, so thank you for watching out for me."

Toji's face slowly molds away from his peeved expression, now relaxed and exhibitng a look of slight astonishment. You can make out a tiny shade of pink under his eyes and earlobes, yet you choose not to point it out to showcase your seriousness with a loving smile. He scoffs, shakes his head, and leans close to your face.

"You're somethin' else, ya know that, kid?" He flicks your forehead, resulting in you groaning from the diminutive mistreatment. But he quickly places a kiss when you're done squirming from the pain. "I love ya too, baby. Always."

You beam at him. "Even when I'm whiny?"

Finally, he laughs. "Yeah, even when yr' whiny. My whiny, annoyin', cute-ass princess."

"I said whiny, not annoying."

"Whatever." The two of you exchange laughs and kisses on the couch, completely disregarding your assignments and the kettle ready with hot water. It doesn't matter nor compare with the adoration you experience from him right now, so you indulge yourself for as long as you can.

[edgeray]

HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.

Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :

Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.

It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.

Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.

So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.

Courting a Lie

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words

You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 

You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.

You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 

“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 

“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 

“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 

“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 

It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”

That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 

“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 

“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.

Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 

“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 

“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 

“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 

“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.

And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 

Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 

You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 

— 

Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 

Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 

Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 

Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 

and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.

Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 

She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 

—

Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.

And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 

You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 

“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 

“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 

“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 

You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.

“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 

“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.

“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 

“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 

You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 

Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 

You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 

It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 

You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 

Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 

[swifty-fox]

yo you post your fics on AO3? if so please share your user babe

omg yes I do! you can check my swiftywrites tag but

Masters of the Air:

Kingdom for a Kiss - 104k Long-form Postwar exploration of Clegan's relationship and their trauma. Explicit.

Gale takes a deep breath to compose himself, tucks the jagged angry edges of himself back to face inwards. “You said you would write.”

understanding in a plane crash: WIP (5 parter, three parts up) Prequel fic to Kfak, as told from John Brady's perspective as a POW

“The thing you can't quite put your finger on about DeMarco,” He says, “is that you want him to fuck you til you cry. Sorry to spoil the game for you.”

Brady stares at him and stares at him, alone in the Base’s Chapel and rosary halfway finished. He thinks he might throw up, or maybe strangle Curt Biddick and then throw up.

“Lock it up, Johnny, they’re gonna see you bleeding it all over soon.”

press your tired hands against my lips darling: Finished. 3K word re-write of the Bucks final conversation in the cockpit. Loose prequel to KfaK but with some minor inaccuracies Mostly SFW

Gale takes John's hand, brings the scarred knuckles to his mouth and holds it there, turns their hands over til he can place his lips to the pulse point at John’s wrist. It’s not a kiss, there’s no press or pursing of lips, but tender nevertheless, intimate in a way that makes Gale shudder. Cautious of whether John will even allow this.  

“I ain’t prayed in a long time,” Gale says whisper-soft. He feels John’s pulse skip a beat, “but I prayed every day you were safe and alive and coming back to me. Every morning, and every night.”  He lets himself cry again, tears hidden against the scarred skin of John's hand. 

Little Beast: Ongoing. Porn with a bit of Plot modern au of Burnout John and Priest Gale. total of 30k of them fucking and arguing. Three Parts so far. NSFW to the max

“It’s such a shame you’re cooped up in here like Rapunzel there Buck.” John drawls lazily. He makes a show of looking around “Is Mother Gothel nearby?” 

Buck has to fight back against another smile, wouldn't give him the satisfaction or the encouragement “Father Huglin is away at a conference today.”

“All alone without a chaperone.” 

The Old Guard:

in another life maybe you and i would be walking down an aisle in white: Finished Joe/Nicky (18K) Art Professor Joe & Art Conservator Nicky reconnect after ten years. This one is uh. Sad. Mind the tags. It's an incredibly personal piece to me and probably one of my favorites .NSFW

Dear Joe, you have always been the brave one and I wished every moment for even a drop of that. Perhaps that is why I claimed you as mine, out of a desperate need to have even an ounce of what made you, you. I desired you but I would not, could not ever let you in. I loved you and kept you and hurt you, keelhauled you against the impenetrable ship that was my heart and when the ragged pieces were left behind I still asked of you your silence.  

It is no wonder our love was left in bloody tatters on that lawn. 

Make me a Saint: Finished (8k) Nicky and Nile mete out some justice to a corrupt priest. NSFW for violence. Mind the tags. As of right now, my most popular fic

“ I was a priest before your bible was even written old man ” Nickys voice thunders in the tiny room, crackling over the walls like fire. Even Nile flinches at the sudden volume. He takes another step forwards, bracketing Father Marcus’ arthritic twisted feet with his own.

His voice does not shake.

“I preached the word of God before your language was even invented . I have known the church for longer than you can comprehend. I have seen great men and evil men take up the word of the Lord and I have seen them all rendered dust. I have seen you and I have judged you, Father Marcus. The Church may practice restraint but I do not. The diocese may have turned a blind eye I but I do not. The courts may have found you innocent but I do not . 

Calcification of a God: Finished (4K) Nicky has a lil Menty B and then Joe gives him a bath. Mostly SFW if I recall correctly

“I think,” Nicky says “If I were God, it was you I modeled humanity after. I think if I were God I would have left my throne in heaven to walk beside you and I would have been richer for it”

Yusuf chuckles “Death makes you sentimental my darling.”

Wolfstar:

Oh Captain, My Captain!: Finished, 1.6k Drabble of Wolfstar cuddling and reciting poetry. SFW

He cups the back of Remus’s head, presses him further into the safety of his body with a hand on his mismatched, misaligned rib cage and rocks them slightly. Remus grunts slightly. Sirius hides the teeth of his smile against the follow of his own neck and allows the curtain of his hair to cover them both for a moment. He listens to the two of them breath, always slightly out of sync, out of rhythm. Remus quick and labored, Sirius racing to catch up only to find himself charging ahead only to drop back behind when he tries to slow down. 

“ If I vibrate with vibrations other than yours, must you conclude that my flesh is insensitive ” That doesn’t fit quite right, so he tries another, brow furrowed and fingers tracing the knobs of Remus’ spine like the knots on a tree, with reverence and a little hint of greed. 

[kai-malewife]

A Lazy Saturday Morning

Alhaitham x gender neutral!reader

Summary: There is no better place to wake up than in his arms. Shrouded in his scent, intoxicated by his warmth, nothing feels more like home than your lover, Alhaitham.

Warnings: None, just sickingly sweet morning fluff with our favorite scribe <3

Cross-Posted on Ao3 @ Zhonglis_cake_saves_lifes

Link here!

Not too proud of this fic, might edit it later!

It is to the sound of lively twittering that you rouse from your peaceful slumber, stirred to consciousness by the carefree melody of the early morning birds. The sun had already risen, as warm, golden rays filter through the blinds, casting streaks of light across the room and onto your lover. 

Alhaitham, sprawled out next to you on the bed, winces faintly in response to the fierce gleam prompting him to awake in turn. His hold on your waist tightens and he buries his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent in a feeble attempt to cling onto any last remnants of sleep.

‘’Mornin’.’’ Your hand glides through his silver locks, voice permeated with drowsiness.

It elicits a mellow hum from him, and before long, quiet snores fill the room once more, calm and steady.

You simply cannot resist marveling at the serene expression on his countenance; his typically puckered brows now relaxed, mouth slightly ajar, and porcelain skin tinted in the enchanting morning glow. 

The hand which was previously stroking his hair leisurely trails down, its thumb and forefinger now delicately tracing the curve of his face, flesh smooth beneath deft fingertips. The vision bearer quivers briefly at the touch, nevertheless he does not withdraw from it.

For such a prominent figure in the Akademiya, Alhaitham was by no means a morning person. On the surface, one might expect him to be an early riser, up by the first glimmer of dawn to make the most out of his day, given that he valued his precious time above all else. Truth be told, however, reality was otherwise. 

All those lazy mornings spent in one another's embrace spoke for themselves; laced with loving pecks pressed on your temple and tender, lingering caresses that never failed to set your skin ablaze, occasionally resulting in either of you almost turning up late for work. 

Minutes pass with the Scribe snuggled up to you, chest expanding and contracting against your own at a regular pace. But who can blame him? It's Saturday morning, and there's nothing scheduled for the day.

While you wish to loll in the comfort of his muscular arms for a little longer, surely any sign of fatigue has already worn off, and merely lying here, wide awake, was growing rather irksome. Instead, you opt to roll out of bed and get started on breakfast, hoping to greet your beloved with a cup of steaming hot coffee once he awakens.

You struggle to extricate yourself as silently as humanly possible from the iron grasp enclosing you, eventually succeeding only after strenuous exertion. Yet, much to your surprise, no sooner do you set foot on the floor than something pulls you back onto the cushy mattress.

‘’Mm… Don’t go…’’  Alhaitham splays out on top of you, allowing his weight to press against your body, effectively restricting your movements as he grumbles in the shell of your ear, still half asleep.

This scenario was hardly foreign to you, having occurred countless times in the past. A wry smile tugs at your lips as you find yourself engulfed in the warmth of your partner.

‘’Haitham baby, you’re heavy.’’

‘’I know.’’

It earns him a meek jab on the shoulder, which in turn draws an amused chuckle from him, one that you feel reverberating in his chest along with yours. You heave a defeated sigh, like you always do, and yield to your fate; ensnared in his affectionate grip until he finally decrees that It’s time for his daily caffeine fix.

‘’You’re unbelievable.’’

‘’Love you too, honey.’’

And perhaps this is not so bad after all. 

Azur irises lock onto yours as you plant a final, chaste kiss on his forehead. And so, lulled by the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, an unexpected weariness resurfaces, gradually carrying you back to the land of dreams together with the one you love…

[svaints]

Rollo Dating HCs

@dexpairs-blog asked:

Could I request Rollo dating headcanons? How does he act in a relationship, what are his favorite things to do with his s/o, how does he confess, etc...

Honestly, this may not be true in the future, i'm only making assumptions here about him since he's hard to read, at least to me.

In a relationship, Rollo is more likely to open up to you about many things he wouldn't trust anyone with. He's not going to spill about every bit of his life to you either, no no no. Rollo's still somewhat reserved.

That being said, his love life is kept private. I'm not saying he wouldn't hold your hand, let you hold on to his arm/bicep, or hug you but he wouldn't want the whole world to see how he melts into your embrace when he's exhausted you see?

His favorite things to do with you will always be about bonding and getting to know one another more in a deeper way than before, to even attend the garden you both decided to grow together.

Who wouldn't want to know the way two lovers found each other? Was it cute, was it a disaster, perhaps by accident? What exactly was it that made him take the first step?

Well, being the perfectionist he is wanting everything in order and I mean IN ORDER. A letter with a golden lily stamped on the envelope was given to you on White day. It took him a while to write it, nevertheless, all it mattered was that he confessed his feelings he had kept hidden for so long and that you'd reciprocate them back.

Once you accepted his feelings, it was like tension he had carried all month long just to confess to you, had lifted off. He could've hugged you right? A kiss? No, a smile and soft expression would present itself as he only held your hands till you gave in a tight hug, which he wasn't ready for but didn't push you away.