#sew long fair well

[january-summers]

Writer problems: formatting woes

when you're trying to use formatting in an online story (fanfic) as part of the vibes, but the formatting is phoning it in with varying degrees of intensity depending on the platform the readers are accessing your work, so you get a review trying to give you friendly advice on how to fix your formatting from someone who doesn't know they're the only one experiencing that degree of formatting fail.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Sew Long, Fair Well - 01 SANSA (pages 01)

Sansa makes a final sacrifice for her people, and wakes to discover she's made a deal with a god.

-

The years of war, and the sheer number of their combined forces, the sheer appetite of the dragons, everything had put too large an impact in their reserves. Her people were going to starve before the new crops could be grown to harvest, before the animals could breed and mature enough for culling, the glass gardens were still in ruins, and winter still upon them. Spring hadn't magically come sweeping in when Arya had slain the Night King, the Long Night hadn't mystically given way to the spring dawn.

That's actually something I'll be interested to see when we reach it in the books, how the resource situation is, because with the wars, and The War, resources are going to be so low, I have concerns about the post Long Night survival rates.

“Please,” she asked, “if you know of any way to save my people, please tell me how, please help me save my people.” “What are you willing to give up for them?” It was a test, Sansa knew, and thought of rough hands on her skin, thought of all she has lost, and all she had fought for with whatever she could. With words and looks, and favours and lies, with the blood of others and with her own. “The last thing I have left to barter with,” Sansa told him, hoping it was enough, “the last thing I have which is rightly mine to give away.”

“That's-Not-Bran” Theory at play here. I do kinda like that one, just for the fridge horror aspect of it. I also like the “rightly mine to give” mentality when characters deal with eldritch/ancient beings, cause you could give them anything, including the life of another, a thousand other lives, but where's the personal sacrifice in that. (Also it makes you look like an asshole.) This one showing us just where Sansa's priorities lie, it's not just about the building, it's about the people in it

“Down through the crypts, until the tunnel turns into a cave. Down through the cave to the heart of the hot springs, where the waters of Winterfell are born. Until there's nothing left to give.”

You know, I have now read two fics with Sansa Time Travel that feature the hot springs in the tunnels under Winterfell as the medium for said time travel. Two different types of time travel, mind you, but I see any more and it will officially be a pattern.

In her mind, she could see a golden light flowing through Winterfell, spilling out into the surrounding lands. It was like watching a flower slowly blooming. Sansa vaguely felt herself slip completely below the surface of the hot spring, but she didn't care, didn't fight it. She wasn't sure if she was dreaming, or if she was truly witnessing a miracle, but these were her last moments, and Sansa chose hope.

This would have been such a tough ask though, after everything Sansa survived, after everything that didn't kill her, after everything lost and regained, for her to have this presented as the saving move, when she can't even trust the source it came from, like, not really. For all she knows, That's-not-Bran just wants her out of the way so he can take over.

Anyway, the world is much nicer when people choose hope. (Nicer still when hope pays off.)

Sansa?

Yes, that was right, she was Sansa Stark of Winterfell And she was dead. Were the dead allowed to play games?

“I won't tell if you don't.”

ngl, that made me laugh.

Fun? That sounded nice. Sansa missed nice things, like lemon cakes, and her family, and practising her sewing. It had been so long since she'd last embroidered anything... No, that wasn't right, there had been a wolf... for Jon .

🍋=🥛

She was a child. She was a woman grown. She'd never left Winterfell. She'd been to King's Landing and the Eyrie, she'd even visited The Wall. She was in love with the idea of love, and couldn't wait to be a wife and mother. She was jaded, married twice, and revolted by the idea of sharing any man's bed. She was Sansa Stark of Winterfell. She was Sansa Stark of Winterfell. A summer child. She'd seen the Long Night. She'd died for her people and now she was either in heaven, or she'd had a second wish granted. She was home, and safe, and she had a chance to fix everything.

I feel like I don't see it enough in fanfics, but I do enjoy the use of formatting as a storytelling aid. Like this section, how the two versions of Sansa are put on opposite sides, and then the center alignment to show that the two versions were separate have melded into one being. (tumblr doesn't like left center right alignments, so I've indented the right aligns.)

People format their fics in different ways and some of them are good, and some of them are one paragraph of 8,000 words. This fic has a lot of 1-2 sentence paragraphs. I know one author, different fandom, and I love their premises, but my gosh, there's an epidemic of people who have never heard of “new speaker, new line,” and they are one of them.

GRRM doesn't always start a new paragraph whenever someone new starts talking, and sometimes he'll let someone start talking at the end of a paragraph, but he never really has two or more people speaking in the same paragraph, where readers get confused because you start reading the second voice assuming it's the first. Sometimes he has the speech tag before the spoken line, instead of after, he actually does a really good job of keeping an easy to read flow with conversations and he has a good balance with the speech tags themselves.

...Sansa just accidentally Blood Magicked the mystery Embroidery Hoop. In her defense, as someone who has dabbled with embroidery, can confirm: those needles are freaking sharp. Fiber arts are hardcore, I have such mad respect for anyone who can do them.

The Hoop was on the ground before her. Sansa looked back at her table, where the hoop was not. She picked it up again, and put it back on the table. She turned to dress, and the hoop was back on the ground before her. Huffing, Sansa picked it up again. This time when she put it on her table she said, partly pleading, “at least let me get dressed before I deal with you.” She stepped back, eyes on the hoop. It stayed where it was. … In all honesty, if Sansa hadn't been through what she'd just been through, she would have been freaking out over the hoop far more.

Good of her to acknowledge that she's either having a mild disassociation, or has been struck by the blasé attitude stick a few too many times. Look, don't get me wrong, “nothing can phase me” is a fine personality type for a girl to have, but when all the only -female-characters have it, it starts to grate. Like how “snarky, sarcastic, he'd be an asshole if he weren't so cute, clever, and charismatic” became default male protagonist personality for a while th- … actually I think they're still doing that one.

...../              HELP               \ .../   I've made a deal with   \ /an Ancient God, and now I \ |     don't know what to do!     | .\  (Slide finger from right to / ...\       left to turn to next    / .....\              page)              /

'Oh,' Sansa thought, feeling a little faint, 'so that was real.'

Apparently. Don't worry, I hate when that happens to me too. (Also I shudder to think how long it took to do the console format every time.)

-

So I actually had the message box open and was going to fire off a message to see if @redwolf17 would be cool if I did The Weirwood Queen for this, but then I thought “if my review curse* triggers, I will be devastated, everyone will be devastated!” So I picked one that's been on permanent hiatus for... three and half years? Oh wow, I didn't think it had been that long. Time is an illusion.

Anyway, I have author permission, and I'm even allowed to be as mean as I want. Oh, the evil that could unleash >:3c (I've fiddled with the formatting slightly, just because the layout in the og is very... laid out.) This fic is also more GoT than ASoIaF, sorry, but I poorly worded the fic option in the poll and no one gave me recs.

*I have this unfortunate curse where if I review a fic that's still in progress, something happens and the author drops the fic like 86% of the time. It's not because I'm mean or anything, I don't go for the writing jugular, it just. happens.

Happy April Everyone!!!

[sanctified-jasper]

If anyone leaves an unrelated comment or a comment asking about another fic in one of my fics ever again. I am legally allowed to do a violence. S2G.

FAQ

Zuko Potter

What happened, where is it? i can haz update?

No. Shan't. The sheer self entitlement from the fandom, the Harry Potter side especially was so freaking rancid, it left a massively sour taste in my mouth, I stopped having fun writing the fic, it felt like a thankless chore and all my creativity shriveled up and died. After the number of "update soon. hurry up and update." type comments, I just, got really sick of remembering it even existed. Between that and finding out the author of the source material was paying for hate crimes, on top of being a phobic rascist who took people liking her work to mean the same as people agreeing with her philosophies... I just felt deeply uncomfortable interacting with the fandom in any capacity. I had planned to delete the fic in its entirety, but I put so much goddamned work into that fic that I chose to private it instead.

So I can't read it anymore?

There's a less complete copy on FF.Net because I keep forgetting that bitch exists. It will not be updated ever again, it is as complete as it is ever going to get. That one got dropped a lot sooner than the AO3 version because no one was reading it, so I didn't see the point in double posting.

How do we get the AO3 version back.

Wait for JKR to die? ... or make me a TV Tropes page? IDFK. If you could find a way to stop people from being an asshole in the comments forever I might republic it for that.

Sew Long, Fair Well

Is it dead?

Alas. There's part of the next chapter written, but I got a guy in the comments who thought "you should do this that and the other thing and also make my waifu the main character. Stop telling me she's 2 years old and make her the main character. You're just a bitch and I slap bitches like you all day long. Kill yourself or prove yourself to me, what are you going to do, you can't stop me from reading it." was acceptable behaviour. Decided to shelve it for a few weeks and came back only to realise I wasn't just being petty, I was suffering Burnout. (Which would go on to last almost 2 years.)

So... are you coming back to it. Like, ever?

Oh I hope so. But probably put it in your sub feed and forget about it... maybe pray. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[call-me-schmidt]

Chapters: 14/? Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark Characters: Sansa Stark, The Three Eyed Raven|Bran Stark, Unkown Entity, Arya Stark Additional Tags: SUICIDE AS MEANS OF HUMAN SACRIFICE FOR SHADY MAGICAL PURPOSES, bullshit magic, Gamer AU - Freeform, kind of, Sansa-centric, Bullshit Ancient Deity, Season 8 AU - alternate worse ending (aka: everyone dies, andif they haven't yet: they will, bullshit Gamer Gimmick, (my Gamer AU isn't like other Gamer AUs: mine stars Sansa), Crack taken somehow seriously, Crack Treated Seriously, Formatting as a story telling aid, Time Travel, Do-Over, Embroidery, Blood, mentions of medical procedures, specifically stitches, in pig meat, Now with more Shody Medical stuff, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Accidental Murder, Intentional Murder, Sleep Deprivation, Theft, Gaslighting unsuspecting Maids by Accident, Do not post to another site, DO NOT POST TO AN UNOFFICIAL APP Summary:

The death of the Night King didn't magically bring spring, and though the Dragon Queen has taken those that could walk South, those left behind are running out of food. Out of options, Sansa takes the advice of the Three Eyed Raven, and does something drastic to save what remains of her people.

She doesn't expect to wake as a child in the Winterfell of her youth, but that might be an unrelated issue.

[bunnyreaper]

simon is your most precious bear, but he won't settle for just that.

(18+/MDNI, plushophilia, mild moment of dubcon?)

you'd found him in a charity shop one day and couldn't walk away without him in your arms--the most darling little bear you've ever seen. 

the stitching on his button eyes was barely present, the threads on his body were also loose, and his fur was a little more than worse for wear. usually a sign of a bear well-loved, but you got the feeling looking at him and his missing smile that his state wasn't from something entirely different. 

you'd taken him home and treasured him ever since. restitched his eyes and his precariously hanging limbs, polished his little plastic nose and tied a ribbon around his neck.

you'd tried sewing in a smile underneath his cute little nose, but found the expression didn't quite suit him. when you tried again, arching the stiches downward, you found you much preferred him as your grumpy bear anyway.

once he was pampered and restored, you sat him pride of place on your pillow, having him guard you and keep watch over your bed whenever you weren't in it. at night you held him close, squeezed him tight until you drifted off to sleep--dreams that are always so sweet and peaceful, and you swear it's because he keeps the nightmares at bay. 

little did you know of the soul trapped inside--simon.

he'd fallen in love just as you had, obsessed with the way you'd looked at him and never stopped looking--obsessed with the way you cared for him and held him. he'd never liked being trapped as a bear until you took him home, where he belonged. 

now he took his role as your stuffie very seriously. and clearly, it paid off, as he quickly became the favourite of all your plushies--the one you treasured above all others.

fair to say simon had captured your heart, and in turn, he was always doted on and adored by you. never was he allowed to slide off the bed to be forgotten, never was there a day that went by where he wasn't kissed or cuddled by you.

but sometimes he had to be moved from his place, his spot. when you had visitors over, he'd be replaced in the bed by strange figures, stuck on the nightstand as a spectator to it all.

the comforts they provided were different, bringing bitten lower lips and breathy moans rather than sweet smiles and gentle whispers. and all the while simon was trapped, doomed to watch other men in the bed the two of you shared--knowing deep down in his stuffing that if he were just human again, he could do a much better job. 

late one night, after another visitor, you return to the comfort of your bed with simon clutched between your arms. you squeeze him as tight as you can--a sweet, satisfied smile leaving you as you hold him close and embrace the comfort and safety he provides.

"one of these days, they won't be disappointing." you sigh, releasing your disappointment and unknowingly unleashing wishful magic

it's then simon feels it, something inside him he hasn't felt in so long, as his body shifts from bear to man. 

he should do something about the way you scream, soothe you as he usually does, but right now, there is nothing calming or comforting in the way he feels right now--just pure posessive lust. codependant, ugly love. 

simon takes advantage of his newfound form, using muscular arms to crush you into the bed, determined to make up for lost time no matter what it takes. his dick hardens instantly, so used to the feel of your body against him and yet intoxicated by all the new sensations.

he expects you to keep struggling, to fight back in disbelief, but when the shock wears off he delights in the way you look at him--just as enamoured as you had the first time you ever laid eyes on him.

[orchid3a]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙊𝙁 𝘽𝙊𝙔𝙎, 𝙃𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

―୨୧⋆ ˚ or itadori yuuji proving to be the best boyfriend ever

―୨୧⋆ ˚ content: fem!reader, yuuji and sukuna are twins, yn and sukuna have a beef, mentions of vengeance (yn is going to kill sukuna lol), mentions of flu, yuuji being the greenest green flag ever, nobamaki as hachinana, sukuna's foul language, choso being the older brother, beta-reading (?) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ word count: 1.6k words ―୨୧⋆ ˚ author’s note: woah… it has been a year since i posted a fic of mine lol. well, i just want to start this year popping out my love for itadori yuuji <3, hope you all like this fic, please reblog and comment <3 i have to thank t*kt*k for this idea ―୨୧⋆ ˚ tagging: @blueparadis

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

The only sounds in your room were your sneezes and soft imprecations towards whoever cursed you to stay bedridden on the most important weekend of your nerd life.

The anime convention of the month. You spent so many energies to craft your cosplay, and even managed to make one for your boyfriend, Yuji, so you two could make a couple cosplay. However, here you were, bedridden with a fever of 39°C, while your friends were having fun at the convention.

And you knew who he was, and you would make him pay for his ruining it. You could gamble your allowance that someone was a certain cute pink-haired boy’s twin, a certain mean and annoying twin who hated seeing you and his kind twin happy together.

Your thoughts of vengeance were interrupted, once again, by your nth sneeze, as you sighed loudly, before falling in the soft warmth of the bed. Grumbling, you turn on your side, your hand tasting the night table near your bed. Your fingers met something cold, your phone, as you took it. The screen brightness almost blinded you, you closed your eyes for a few seconds, to make them adjust to the brightness. Once again, you opened it and noticed a few texts from your friends, it seemed that they were having fun at the convention.

Nobara sent you a photo of her and Maki, dressed up as Hachi and Nana from NANA. You almost fawned on how pretty and cool they were, you typed a long message declaring how much you adored and loved their cosplays. You coughed a little, as you saw other messages from your other friends who were there. Honestly, you wanted to cry, it wasn’t fair that they managed to enjoy the convention, while you were in your room coughing and sneezing. You spent days, no weeks, to prepare the perfect cosplay, managing to not spend too much money and sew almost the entirety of the costume, create some of the accessories, and the only thing you had to buy was the wig. You were proud of yourself and your work. Frustrated, you put the phone on the night table once again, before rolling on your side, trying to gain sleep, at least you could do that without coughing or sneezing.

“(-me).”

“(-me).”

You grunted as you rolled in your fuzzy sheets, trying to ignore the voice, however your attempt was a failure as someone stripped them off. Before you could curse him, your eyes met with the brown ones of your boyfriend, Yuji. You blinked a few times, surprised, you didn’t expect to see him, especially after going to the convention for who knew how long. Coughing, you tried to stand up, however, Yuji immediately helped you sit straight and even put a pillow behind your back, so you could stay comfortable. He was such a househusband material, you thought as you coughed one last time.

“Thank you, Yuji.” You thanked him as he gave you the water bottle that was on the nightstand. “Why are you here? Aren’t you tired from the convention?”

The pink-haired boy just grinned at your words, as he proudly showed you three bags, as he put them delicately on your lap. They were quite heavy, and you wondered what it was inside, as you opened one of them and you gasped loudly.

“I was right about you liking my surprise, and now Kusigaki has to give me ten bucks.” He chuckled as he grinned, thinking about the bet he just won, then he pointed to one bag before he added. “I bought you some presents, go on, babe, open them.” He reassured you with the biggest smile ever.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his smile, he sure was able to make you feel better even with just his precious smile. How you wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t want to pass him your flu. You cursed your flu once again for taking away from you the possibility to smooch your pretty boyfriend.

Trusting Yuuji’s words, you opened the first bag and a loud gasp, followed by a cough, left your lips, as your eyes widened. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, your head automatically shifted to your boyfriend, as he was grinning at your reaction.

“Then? I bought the right merch~ Yay! And the others didn’t believe me! Ah, serves them right!” The pink-haired boy just smiled as he waited patiently for you to open all your presents.

Your eyes scanned the content of the bag, noticing all the pins, badges, figures, and acrylics of your favourite characters of various animes and video games you mentioned to him. He didn’t forget one character, never in your previous relationship your exes remembered all this information, you were dumbfounded. Your eyes met Yuuji’s brownish ones, and you swore you could read all the excitement he had because of your surprised expression.

“Yuu… How could you remember all my favourite characters? I mean, it’s inhumanly impossible. Are you an alien?” You asked, blinking twice, as you saw his grin becoming ever bigger.

He scratched his neck as he just mumbled. “Well, you showed me so many times their faces that I just remembered them more than my favourite ones. I was sure that you would like them, knowing that you’re stuck to bed because of your flu and not at the convention.”

Your vision started to blur, as tears threatened to run over your cheeks, you couldn’t believe how could you date someone so amazing and loving as Yuuji. He was truly the best boyfriend ever.

The pink-haired man panicked when he saw your tears as he tried to cheer you up the best as he could, while he dried your tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

It took you a few minutes to calm down, and now you were still in the bed, Yuuji with you, as his arms were wrapped around your waist, cheek pressed on top of your head. You tried to stop him, fearing he would get sick, but Yuuji didn’t listen, saying that he couldn’t get sick. After a few more protests, you gave in. How could you say no to him?

While cuddling, you opened the other bags, gasping and thanking profusely Yuuji for the plushes, gadgets and mangas he bought. And of course, you scolded him for spending so much money just for you! You didn’t like that he focused only on you, he should have enjoyed the convention for himself too!

“But I knew that you wanted to go there more than me, of course I had to buy you those things, I didn’t want to see your sad face because you missed out this opportunity.”

You swore your heart was shot by Cupid’s arrow once again, how could Yuuji be so romantic and caring towards you? He was truly a treasure.

A box peeked up from the last bag, your curiosity was picked, as you grabbed the box to discover that it was a Nendoroid. You didn’t recognize the character, nor did you remember ever talking about such anime. Maybe Yuuji watched it, and he just bought it, maybe you could suggest watching it together, so you could understand why he bought that specific character.

Yuuji’s eyes landed on the box in your hands, a sheepish smile blossomed as his cheeks went warm. An embarrassed chuckle left his lips before he took from your hands, before looking fondly at you, then at the character in the box.

“Yuu, why did you buy this character? Do you like her design? I mean, it’s adorable, she looks like a magical girl. “You asked as you looked closely at the character. Only now, you noticed that she had your same hair colour and the same was for her eyes. It was a curious coincidence; however, it wasn’t strange that you shared physical traits with a character, it could happen sometimes.

Yuuji’s smile softened when he saw you looking at the figure, before ruffling sweetly your hair.

“I don’t know her or the anime she is from… I just bought it because she reminds me of you. I thought that if I bought her, I could always have my lovely (Name) always with me, even if you aren’t with me physically.” He concluded, as his cheeks were reddish.

Your heart was once again hit by a Cupid’s arrow as you stared at Yuuji and his red cheeks, and you swore to yourself that sooner or later you would put a damned ring on his finger and marry him.

Suddenly you pulled him in your arms, now your flu the last of your problems, as he was laying on your chest, while you peppered his face with kisses and sweet praises. Yuuji melt in your embrace as he just let you smoother him with affection and physical touches.

And today too, Yuuji proved how much he loved you.

Bonus

A sneeze followed by a cough were enough to anger the fragile temper of a certain pink-haired twin, especially if the disturbance of his pace was his idiotic twin. Sukuna glared at his sick twin, who was laying on the couch, being babied by their older brother, Choso.

Sukuna wondered how stupid Yuuji could be sometimes, as he asked himself how he could be the twin of such an idiot, he was clearly the better one. (Choso may say otherwise, but Sukuna didn’t care)

Another loud sneeze irked Sukuna, as he turned his head towards his twin.“You fucking brat! If you fuck-”

“Sukuna! Language!” Choso screamed.

And another lovely day at the Itadori household began like that.

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 2 ◇ Part 3 ◇ Part 4

Warnings: none, osamu feeling inferior to tsumu :(

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt/comfort

A/n: Osamu's POV! I swear i'm gonna continue the story-line in the next chap.!

All of his childhood, Osamu felt like he was divided in half because of his brother: half food, half clothes, and half affection from their parents. It was almost like people didn’t see him as his own person. To the world, they were “The Twins”, never just “Osamu” and just “Atsumu”.

Time changed, things changed, they each started to become their own person, dreaming of different futures and places to go to.

Osamu always felt like he was the shadow to the light named Miya Atsumu, but he loved him dearly, so much that even today he half-expects to find Atsumu tangled up beneath the sheets of their childhood bunker bed, only to be greeted by the disappointing sight of his mirror, where his reflection gets blurred with the lines of his twin brother.

Osamu loved Atsumu but he didn’t want to hurt people like Atsumu often did; he told his brother that he was never going to become like him, so he became a little less selfish, less stubborn and less greedy.

With you, though, he is greedy. And he wants all of you.

He wants to hold you while you two watch some stupid anime called Haikyuu that you’re obsessed with, he wants to listen to you rambling about your day and your disdain for Alice, the insufferable colleague of yours; he wants to cook for you and feed you with his own hands and he wants to wait for you in your shared bed.

Osamu didn’t want a lot of things in his life, except his restaurant and his family, but since the day he saw you walk in with wet hair and drenched clothes, he started to want a lot more than he could afford, from the most mundane acts of waking up together to the intimacy of making love to you.

He is patient though, he lets your relationship grow steadily.

He thought that he would be happy with the leftover crumbles of affection that you gave him, but when you stopped coming to his shop, Osamu lost it completely. 

He was waiting for you around 7 PM like every Friday, he was feeling confident that day and wanted to suggest a casual outing to the neighbouring town's food fair.

(Nothing like a date, just a friendly hang out, he told himself).

His resolve wavered when you didn’t show up, not for one, not for two, but for three weeks in a row. He thought of all the possibilities as to why you didn’t come for so long, and he tried his best not to imagine the worst-case scenario. That can’t be. Nope.

On the third Friday of your absence, Osamu was crumbling. He closed the shop earlier than usual and went straight into the supermarket to get his guilty pleasure: the Butter Cookies.

His grandma always used to get them for him and unlike many other children, he never found sewing tools or anything of the sort in the box; his grandma knew that that kind of disappointment would be far too great for a six-year-old, food-enthusiast ‘Samu.

Well, grandma, that kind of disappointment is too great for a twenty-six-year-old ‘Samu too, because the guy was nearly panicking when he couldn’t find the boxes of Butter Cookies at their usual place. 

He was positive, though, because even after searching everywhere and not finding them, he didn’t lose hope. They will be available in another grocery store for sure. He got his priority straight and redirected his steps to another store across the town.

Luckily for him, the store was still open for another hour and it didn’t take him long to finally see his comfort food, in all its glory, staring at him from the shelf in the second aisle.

He was just about to go and pay for his box when he caught a glimpse of your silhouette, halting him in his tracks and confirming that it was, in fact, you.

Concern etches across his features as he looks at your tired and empty eyes, wondering if you have been taking care of yourself. Did you eat enough? Sleep enough?

The desire to call out to you is strong, leaving him no time to think before he is already approaching you, “That one will go bad in like 2 days.”

You look like a deer caught in headlights, doe eyes staring at him in what he wants to believe is awe.  You smile timidly before saying: “Hi Osamu, long time no see.” 

Yeah, long time no see, indeed. Osamu wants to be mad at you for making him so worried, for not coming to his shop, for not letting him know if you were doing okay, but he is just the owner of a restaurant and you’re just a regular client.

At least, you used to be a regular client. He can’t force you to like his company or his shop, no matter how much he wishes it.

Despite this, he can’t stop the bitter remark that slips past his lips,“Yeah, because someone hasn’t been coming to my restaurant lately.” you visibly wince, though he can’t seem to care enough.

You stutter some poor excuse as he inspects the other vegetables in the aisle, handing you one with a clean surface that will last at least five days, per Osamu’s calculations.

His hands touch yours and it makes him blush like a middle schooler.

You both talk about nothing and everything and in between the mundane banter and playful jabs, Osamu finds himself agreeing to a cooking lesson at your apartment.

And he couldn’t be happier.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @writingsofanomnivore @pressuredtreasure @k4sumis0u

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Purpose: knight!price x princess!reader

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women

You sat in the solar near the window with your embroidery on your lap. Your attention was on the fabric and thread while your mother sat across the room near the fire place, doing the same as you.

"...the prince is kind. He's about your age too." She said and you had to suppress a sigh.

"It's only been a week, mother." You pointed out and she gave you a look. "If you're that worried about there not being a successor after me, perhaps you can give the throne to my cousin. She has plenty of children."

"She's fickle. She'd run the kingdom into the grave and our lineage would be the laughing stock for generations."

You frowned.

"This is your responsibility as a princess, to run the kingdom after me and secure our throne." She explained as if this was the first time you had been told this in your life. "You can't keep throwing away our options."

"If they truly liked me then perhaps I wouldn't." You retorted and she shook her head.

"That's because you aren't supposed to like each other. It's nothing more than politics, but you could always befriend him later on after children."

You sighed heavily and stopped sewing. You tried your hardest to hold in your emotions as they weighed heavy on your chest.

You suspected that before end of next week you’d be surrounded by other lords or princes vying for your hand again.

You glanced out the window and your attention immediately went to Sir John Price.

He stood in a makeshift ring with a wooded sword in his hand. In front of him was a scrawny new squire who had yet to prove he had enough potential to even be considered to be a royal knight.

Price stood in front of the squire as he prepared for a spar. His knights gathered around to watch and the squire looked as if he’d throw up.

“Alright, lad?” He wondered when he noticed his shaking legs. He sent a quick look to Simon who snickered.

“Aye, sir.” The squire lied and he hummed. “But perhaps I should spar with someone else. In account that you must have better things to do.”

Price sucked in his lips to hide his smile.

“Perhaps Sir Simon Riley will be a better fit then.” He couldn’t contain his chuckle when the squire paled. “I assure you that I will spar fairly. It’s only wood.”

It didn’t take long for the spar to start. Price was fair but he was quick. He struck the squire more than once, knocking him into the dirt and bruising his skin.

It was a spectacle without him trying. Price moved like the wind and cut with precision, his focus making it so he became practically unstoppable. Every swing had intention, every slash had a purpose.

There were tales that Price might be something more than human. Perhaps he was the spirit of heroism reborn, a warrior who lived thousands of lifetimes before this moment, a not a man but some higher being of chivalry.

Price would deny every single one of them.

He had worked hard. He practiced until his hands bled and until he nearly collapsed with exhaustion to get to this point. He worked hard to fulfill his purpose and it was him who made it happen, not some other worldly spirit or higher being.

The spar was done before long. Sweat dripped down Price’s temple while he stood over the squire who looked defeated.

He hardly put up a worthy fight and if Price were any different he would’ve turned him away. Yet he could see the potential he had and maybe he was sentimental, but he could almost see his younger self in the squire.

He helped the kid up and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

“Practice more and you’ll get better.” He gave him a quick smile before he waved him away.

The squire limped away to the barracks with a smile on his face.

“You’ve gone soft, Cap.” Kyle scoffed and he raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you want to spar as well. I know you can handle me at my best.” He offered but Kyle shook his head.

“I’d not like to wake up sore, sir.”

Price chuckled but let it rest. He wiped the sweat from his brow and massaged a knot in his shoulder.

He was only so good because he had to be. This was his entire life, the rest of his life, and one slip up meant life and death.

He looked up at the castle and caught you staring at him in the window.

For a moment you two stared at each other, unable to see the details but he knew you were looking, and time seemed to stop.

Price felt heat rise across his face and he was sure he had turned pink. He swallowed hard, nervous that you of all people had watched him spar, he was not fond of anyone but his knights watching him, and struggled to control himself.

He bowed to you before he made his way out of your sight.

You watched him leave with a similar heat spread across your face. Your heart raced just a little faster and you began to embroider again to avoid any questions from your mother.

As much as you hated to admit you understood now why your ladies in waiting would watch him when he trained.

You stubbornly told yourself you were just in awe by his skill and nothing more.

A/n: all he’s gotta do is just hold a sword and I’m over the edge

Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @rmikaelson01

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[lilyrachelcassidy]

The Cat

Mattheo Riddle x Reader 

Summary: The one where Mattheo welcomes an unexpected visitor in his dormitory, which eventually leads to a confession from his side. 

Warnings: yyyhhh, not really, no; some feisty cat tho 

Word Count: 1.2k 

xoxoxxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxo

Mattheo cranked the handle of the shower, releasing the hot jet of water on his body. Today was positively ghastly, and he wanted to wash the emotions and memories off of him. He planned on taking a few minutes of a good read of a Daily Prophet and then plunging under the blanket where he would be able to, hopefully, forget the horror of the day.

Life, however, had even more advancing events for him to deal with because when he finally shut the stream off, he heard a jangle coming from his bedroom, the room to which the bathroom was adjoined. He suddenly froze, stock-still. 

For a moment he admonished himself for being such a weakling, therefore, he quickly recovered from his momentary trans. On autopilot, and because he wasn’t sure what to expect, he threw on some robes and exited the bathroom.

Yet before he could take one step forward, something big and furry flung to his feet. He let out a surprised howl but soon discerned that the enigmatic object actually turned out to be a fat, shabby cat with flamboyant ginger hair and a bizarre froufrou collar on its neck. Quickly recovering from the shocker and the howl, which he definitely won’t be chronicling over his family dinner, he bent over the pet and took it in his arms.

“Well, well... if you aren’t a treat for heart,” he said with a few droplets of water trickling on the cat’s fur. It hissed in dissatisfaction at which Mattheo chuckled. He scrutinized the froufrou collar yet again and noticed the printed, golden word on it which showcased ‘Henrietta’ in the cursive. “Your owner clearly must hate you, Henrietta...”

The cat hissed again, and Mattheo wasn’t sure if it was a hiss of disagreement or not, but he liked to arrogate that as long as the cat was in his arms, it agreed with his opinion.

How had the cat entered his bedroom, or why would it do it in the first place, he didn’t know. But the bond between them flourished as Mattheo stroked it a few times and was rewarded with a great, vibrating purr in response.

“Okay, let’s get you on the bed, buddy.” Stiffly, he put it on the bed with which the cat seemed to be extremely dissatisfied as it hissed again. “You didn’t possibly expect me to cradle you around all night, right? The privilege is only reserved for my cigarettes...”

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this situation next but the resolved it probably wouldn't help with him walking around butt naked. He almost reached the bathroom to change to his regular, nightly attire, but a knock came to the door.

“For Merlin’s Sake...”

As the door swung open, it revealed a girl, an absolutely dazzling one, who Mattheo had been pinning after for a few months now - Y/N. She still had the school robes on her which she enhanced with some sew-on, muggle badges, and she was wrenching both of her hands like a small child summoned to solve a task in from of the entire class. She smiled at him coyly, and Mattheo was suddenly very aware that nothing but a thin layer of cloth prevented him from fully stripping in front of her.

To be fair, he wouldn’t have minded that at all.

“Hey, sorry to... intrude. But I have been looking all over for my cat and-” She halted in the middle of the sentence as she noted Henrietta casually stretched on Mattheo’s bedsheets, staring at its owner as though it revealed a Royal Flush on the poker table. “There you are, you stupid creature! What are you doing here?”

She crouched down, evidently waiting for the cat to approach her but it made no move whatsoever nor expressed any desire of being relocated. When Y/N made the reproachful expression and hushed at it a couple of times, only then did it finally get a grip that there was no option of a sleepover.

As soon as the cat prowled over to her feet, Y/N picked it up and swiftly faced Mattheo in the standing position again. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry about that. I hope Henrietta didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

Mattheo leaned over at a jamb, arms folded together. “No, of course not.” He shook his head lightly, and they both stood there grinning at each other and the absurdity of the situation they were shoved into.

“So, I think I should get going...”

But before she was able to move, Mattheo spouted off: “Don't you think I should get some kind of reward for finding your cat?”

Y/N sniggered, looking at him with amusement in her eyes. “Did you really find her? Or was it just a stroke of luck that she sauntered into your dormitory?”

At that, Mattheo smirked. He loved that someone was able to match his level of teasing. And he loved the way the corners of her lips curved, exposing a little dimple in one of her cheeks. “Technicalities.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but decided to give in to his conditions. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Go on the date with me,” he said it. Matter-of-factly. It actually cost him a much greater deal than he made the impression of; his throat went dry, and his heart picked up on the rabbit speed. And yet he was still leaning on the jamb, a smirk adorning his countenance and daring to look Y/N straight in the eyes as if it was one of the most obvious answers to that question.

That she seemed to not expect because at first, she snorted, but then apprehended that Mattheo wasn’t going to join her in laughter, thus she started goggling with a jaw hanging in consternation. That had a strangely amusing effect on Mattheo who, despite his tense body, managed to look casual. “You? On a date? With me? Do you even know who I am?”

“You are Y/N, and presumably, you are the owner of the strangely-named cat...”

“Hey! Henrietta is a very beautiful name. Have you not read ‘Persuasion’?” When Mattheo shook his head, Y/N let out a little squeak of disbelief. The cat peered at her with annoyance. “It’s only one of the greatest books ever! It’s muggle but still, something to catch up on.” 

Mattheo contemplated her face for a few seconds before the idea sprung up to his mind. “How about...” he started. “I take you to ‘Flourish and Blotts’ this weekend, and we can go over a few chapters together. Or we can go to the ‘Three Broomsticks’ and then you would tell me all about Henrietta?”

The robust blush spread over Y/N's cheeks. She set her face downcast, but a grin, even from that cant, was visible on her lips. “Only under one condition.” 

“And what is that?” asked Mattheo with a brow raised.

“You won’t poke fun at the name Henrietta ever again.” She simpered at him and that, Mattheo thought, was the sight he could admire on a daily basis.

“You got yourself a deal there, Y/N.” He extended the hand on which Y/N shook, and they both beamed at one another.

Later that night, Mattheo thought that thanks to the bloody cat, his days turned out to be one of his greater achievements, after all.

[inspofromancientworld]

Clothing and Decoration

By Oguenther at German Wikipedia - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15134201

Humans have been decorating themselves at least 100,000 years, perhaps as long as 300,000 years, beginning with ochre, a pigment that comes in shades from yellow to purple. Ochre was used for tools and to create pigments that decorated the skin, paint cave walls, and as part of burial rituals, even medicinally. The evidence we have are depictions of human figurines made of limestone and decorated with ochre.

F. d’Errico [modified after d’Errico et al.

Beads of various materials, starting with shells and stones, spread widely with some speculating that trade of beads is what helped with the development of spoken language. It's even possible that beads go back as far as 500,000 years, to Homo erectus, though that is debated. Whether the beads were used in adornment or used as a type of currency or trade medium only is not known for sure, but beads are widely distributed and the materials show evidence of travel (for example, marine shell beads found in landlocked areas). It is thought, though, that wearing of beads came after decoration of the body with ochre.

By http://www.nature.com/nature/videoarchive/prehistoricpinup/ image copyright H. Jensen / Universität Tübingen, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22799118

The earliest depictions of clothing we have is around 41000 years ago, with the Venus of Hohle Fels, which was found in Sweden, though it is possible that the decorations on the body of the Venus figurine is ochre or tattoos. Interestingly, the oldest known musical instrument, a bone flute, was found near the Venus figure, indicating that fully behaviorally modern humans lived in the area.

Based on studies of head and body lice, humans began wearing clothing about 107,000 years ago. Part of the need for clothing was that this time was that this was during the start of the Last Glacial Maximum, when temperatures started dropping and glaciers began overtaking the northern latitudes. Humans, both Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens, had spread quite far by this time. Humans developed in the steppes of Africa and weren't well adapted to the cold, with no real body hair to hold in body heat.

F. d’Errico.

Due to the organic nature of clothing, it's difficult to say for sure when exactly clothing began to be worn and what it was, but we are relatively certain that the first clothing was likely hides of animals. We have found stone and bone tools used to scrape hides from the Early and Middle Pleistocene. These tools also hold evidence that Ochre was used to color the hides. Awls, which were used in southern Africa approximately 73,000, years ago show that hides were pierced beginning very early. These awls show wear patterns of being used on soft, well-worked hides, though whether for clothing or bags, we can't know for sure. These awls spread to Europe by 45,000 years ago, though likely manufactured by Neanderthals based on the theorized distribution of various hominoid groups and remains in the locations they were found.

The benefit of using an awl to create holes in leather is that it can be shaped to the human body, making it more efficient at keeping the body warm, thus reducing the number of layers that need to be warn and allowing humans to spread further during the Last Glacial Maximum.

Approximately 40,000 years ago, in the Denisova Cave, at the time inhabited by modern humans, the first evidence of awls with eyes, or what we now know as needles, appear. This indicates that sewing together clothing, or the decoration of clothing, was becoming more common and more efficient. These needles spread widely, either through trade, contact, or independent development widely, even to the Americas and Australia. It is thought that this led to clothing being decorated more elaborately with beading and other forms of decoration.

By Osama Shukir Muhammed Amin FRCP(Glasg) - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=56200885

While plant fibres don't generally fossilize, we do have some early evidence of people using them as early as 50,000 BCE, possibly used by Neanderthals, in southern France. There is are scattered imprints of cordage and net imprints in clay. As the planet warmed and the Holocene began, weaving of plant and animal fibres, depending on the local climate and availability. While weaving may have begun as early as 25,000 BCE, flax cultivation began around 8000 BCE, and the first evidence of weaving in 6000 BCE, used as a grave wrapping in Çatalhöyük. Approximately 3000 BCE, sheep were domesticated and bred for wooly fleece as opposed to hair in the Near East. In the Indus Valley, cotton was domesticated around 2500 BCE. Evidence of weaving beginning around 10,100 BCE have been found in the Americas, specifically Guitarreco Cave in Peru, where cotton and llama and alpaca were domesticated. Intricately dyed and woven silk was well developed as a craft as early as 2700 BCE, with the first silk reaching other places in the world nearly a thousand years earlier with the very first evidence of silk being used at all dating back to 8500 BCE.

By Unknown author - http://www.booksite.ru/fulltext/nee/lov/tka/che/stvo/1.htm#1, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7483824 By Annika Jeppsson og Danmarks Grundforskningsfonds Center for Tekstilforskning (CTR), Københavns Universitet, Attribution, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33188674 By Zhou Guanhuai - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=142167208

It seems that civilizations may have developed weaving independently, so the first type of loom is difficult to figure out as some locations show that floor looms were first, while others show evidence of hanging looms, and yet others, it seems that what is now known as a 'back-strap loom' was first, while other locations show the use of a floor loom first. Given that these objects were made mostly of organic matter, the evidence comes from art, loom weights (stone or clay weights used to keep the warp threads taut while the loom was in use. Egyptian art shows the use of floor looms, Grecian urns show the use of warp-weighted looms, many native cultures used back-strap looms prior to European contact and colonization. From what fabrics that have been found, each culture developed its own method of creating decorated fabric, either through the application of decorations or through the weaving of the fabric itself, as well as multiple weights of cloth, from fine gauze through thick rugs out of nearly any plant or animal material that could be twisted into yarn.

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Alys Rivers

Alys x daughter reader (platonic)

ft. alysmond/ alys x aemond

-Alys will either be your bio mother or adopted. If you are born to Alys it is by her own choice. Likely she wanted a baby of her own. If you are adopted it is because your birth parents did not want you and left. Taking pity, Alys will take you in.

It was quiet in Harrenhal, the only noises those few that remained awake. Alys sat by the hearth holding a small squirming bundle. She gazed down at the baby's face, your eyes closed. One long finger caressed thin hair. Your shuffled slightly but other then that were still. Alys had always wanted a child but never had the chance. Now she did Alys felt a warmth in her. A feeling almost completely foreign. She's had little in her life, her mother gone, father pretending she did not exist, and any child she cared for taken once old enough. Now she finally had a baby to herself. Y/n yawned slightly and opened her wide eyes. A few snuffles was all that left her. "There there Y/n. Go back to sleep." Alys cooed.

- Your childhood is dominated by Alys. There are not many kids in Harrenhal and Alys trusts no one else with you. You are working at an early age as a maid. It was mostly menial tasks, your mother forbid you doing anything dangerous. She allowed you to have fun after work and play amongst the few children. However you never stayed long and went back to mother. Alys sewed a lot of toys for you. Your dresses as well were made of good quality. Because Alys was given so little as a child she made sure you wanted for nothing.

Alys noticed her daughter eyeing a toy bunny in shop. It was a cute thing, made of dark brown fur and buttons. Of course Y/n did not say it aloud, these things cost money. But Alys was not adverse to giving her daughter something. So when Y/n went back to her chores Alys popped into the shop and asked how much it was. Giving her a wary eye all the time, the shop keeper named the price. It was not too bad, and the toy of good quality. So she bought it. No doubt they would whisper that the bastard daughter would do some ill by it. How foolish they were. She found Y/n by the hearth finishing het sewing. At first Y/n did not bother looking up, so concentrated was she. Alys crept towards her daughter, toy in hand. "Y/n, I have something." Turning, you saw the toy you had been eyeing in her hands. Delighted, you took it with a thanks. Alys watched as you fawned over your new toy.

-You receive an advanced education for a girl your status. From the library Alys pilfers books and parchment. You are taught to read and write from a young age. Language foreign to Westeros is heard upon your tongue. Most important, magic. Alys teaches you all she know and shows you images from the flames. You learn of prophecies that have past, are happening and will happen. In the night two witches chant their spells, learning secrets beyond the knowledge of mortal men.

Everyone was asleep in Harrenhal. That was, unless one did not count the two witches wide awake. Your mother had crawn a circle out of chalk, symbols drawn with a white thin finger. Once done Alys knelt down, green dress fairing out behind. You stood back slightly. Not out of fear, but to learn. Alys said words none other but you two understood. Although Alys knew them on a much deeper level. At your young age there was still so much left to learn. So you watched and memorized her actions. When younger you had always feared that guards would burst in and cart you two off for witchcraft. But now you knew mother would always be there to protect. From the center came a ghostly apparition. Its skeletal body twisting and turning grotesquely. Anyone else would have fled. But you were so used to stranger things that little fazed you. It leaned towards your mother and whispered something soft. Then it was gone. "What did it say?" Alys turned and smiled. "He is coming."

-When war broke out you never left Alys's side. She kept you near at all times. Days grew darker and all knew bloodshed would find itself at Harrenhal. Alys continues teaching you magic. When Daemon came to Harrenhal Alys kept you inside. Afterwards Alys is even more vigilante over your protection. Alys drew symbols around the door, telling you that no one but you two would be able to enter. The days grew darker and your mother spun her web.

Prince Aemond came astride his great beast Vhaegar. You and Alys knew first, sensed him, smelt him on the air. "Y/n, go to our room.' Obeying, you waited. A few times you heard a thunderous knock at the door. Someone took a heavy object and tried to break it down. Nothing worked and you were safe. Unfortunately you were not spared the screams because you could hear them. Men, women and children crying out. Sitting on the bed you tried to block them out with little success. When the door finally did open it was your mother. Without a word you flung yourself into her arms. "It's alright Y/n. We are safe."

-Others may have feared her, but to you Alys was everything. For the next few days your mother had you stay in the room. When you asked what had happened she said "everything is well". Trusting, you stayed. A week later she finally lets you out. Prince Aemond terrifies you. It is not his actions (Alys would have torn him apart if that happened), but his general presence. There was something dark within this young man that unsettled you greatly. Sometimes he would look at you but say nothing. But Alys seemed unworried and he seemed to like you mother. The change was odd. You no longer had to work as a maid but were allowed to solely dwell on studying. Your dresses were nicer as well. Dinner was sometimes taken with the Prince and your mother. It was a strange new world.

You stayed by your mothers side, small hand clinging to her dress. This room once belonged to the lord of this castle, however you had never stepped inside. Standing in front of you was a rather tall man. Or rather he looked so tall to a young girl such as yourself. He looked down his pointed nose, silver Targaryen hair framing a narrow face. His one eye made you shrink. Aemond Targaryen, prince, rider of Vhaegar and kinslayer. "How old is she?" "Eight. But my daughter is not given to childish exploits. So do not mistaken her for an invalid." Alys's grip tightened on you. Feeling safe by your mothers side you looked up at her. Alys showed no fear in the face of a man who had slain his own nephew. Your mother had faced more terrifying forces than this mortal man.

-You did not like Aemond. At least at first. He terrified you, and his monopolization of your mothers attentions brought jealousy to the surface. Aemond had very little to do with you. Alys had become more protective, keeping you by her side. Now that the castle was under Aemond's control (and by association hers) Alys took this opportunity to teach you magic more freely. None would dare to speak of the witch and her daughter (at least not yet. One day you were sitting outside, the light in your palms gently floating. It was liberating to conjure in the open with no worries of getting caught. Someone approached but you ignored them, thinking it was your mother. It was only when they spoke that you realized it was Aemond. Immediately you jumped up, the light disappearing in a thin trail of smoke. Aemond seemed apprehensive, but eventually asked if you wanted to ride on Vhaegar. Looking to the dragon, you were not entirely sure it was safe. But curiosity won.

Lets just say when you and Aemond finally got back down Alys was there. Yup. Aemond was fucked.

You should have been far more terrified. Vhaegar was enormous and even a claimed dragon was no pet. She turned her steely eyes upon you. Likely, it was Aemond's presence that stopped her from turning you into a snack. "Have you ever ridden with anyone else?" It would make you feel better if you knew he'd done this with someone else before. "Yes. My sister and your mother." Well, if your mother had done it, then dragon riding was not too bad. Right? After a tiring climb you reached the top of Vhaegar. Already you were well off the ground. Aemond who had been right behind you adjusted a harness around your waist. With one call Vhaegar was in the sky.

It was the most terrifying and terrific sensation of your life. High in the clouds you had never been so close to death. Never before had you witnessed such a view. Above Westeros you flew. "This is what it must feel like to be a god." You thought. Eventually Aemond decided it was time to land. And waiting in the courtyard was Alys.

Oh shit.

-Your mother began to show signs of illness one morning. At first you were unworried. But time when on and still your mother was ill. You tried to help, providing drafts and good foods. Still, your mothers condition stayed, neither worse or better. Finally, your mother one day came with a surprise. She was expecting a child.

"Probably an upset stomach." You thought. As the days passed by however, you began to worry. Not only was your mother nauseous, but unnaturally exhausted and complained of pains and aches. Finally Alys brought out her box and asked you to wait outside. Nervously you paced outside the door. After a few minutes, which felt like an hour, Alys let you back in. Instead of grief or worry a jubilant smile adorned her face. When you asked if she was well your mother pulled you into a hug. "Oh Y/n it is the best new. I am excepting!"

-You were excited for another sibling. Over the months you had warmed to Aemond (somewhat), so having him as the father was not so bad. Everyone had to leave Harrenhal and a cottage became home. You helped assemble a nursery and look after your mother. So busy were you that the war seemed a distant conflict. There was peace for a time. Unfortunately reality came crashing down in the form of Daemon Targaryen. Heavily pregnant, your mother said it was time to go. All three of you were forced on Vhaegar to meet Aemond. When you landed there he was, the Rouge Prince and his dragon. He helped you and Alys off. "She see's much and more, my Alys." With a kiss for Alys and a pat on the head for you, he was off. The two dragons circled one another. Your mother grabbed your hand and ordered you to follow, Into the forest both of you went. When you asked what was happening Alys told you to be quiet. Into the woods both of you went, the witch of Harrenhal and the little sprite.

Everything was deadly quiet. Your mother huffed and puffed ahead, the baby behind a strain. Frequently you looked back and above. In a rather short period of time the two of you were well away from Aemond. Suddenly with an almighty thud something hit the ground. Like an enormous hammer was slammed into the earth. The both of you nearly fell over. It was only because your mother had a hard grip that you managed to fall down. For a few moments the two of you stood there. A feeling heavier than an anvil settled on your soul. For a moment you were no longer there, but above looking down on a scene of carnage. Two dragons lay in the river, shattered ground beneath. Then suddenly you were underwater. Vhaegar's harness was still attached to its dragon, and rider. The sapphire glinted in his socket. Coming back, you were on the ground. Your mother's terrified face was all you could see.

"Mother, he's dead."

[mudisgranapat]

I. Lights Out

Word Count: 2,7 k

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X F! Reader

Content: zombie apocalypse, mention of dead bodies, mention of death, children

Summary: A virus has taken over the world, turning people into zombies. Amidst the chaos, Simon has managed to stick together with the other operators of Task Force 141, his life barely any different than it was before. That is, until the day he crosses paths with a woman that keeps a well hidden secret and holds something he has long forgotten existed: a baby

Note: This is my first fic (and first tumblr post)! Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I already have the story planned out, and will be posting the next chapter soon if anyone cares about this. If not, I’ll pretend I never posted this lol

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Sitting on the back of the Humvee, Simon could almost believe that things were normal. The constant hum of the engine numbed his mind, as he stared into the sewing of the padding covering the old seat. Soap was seated directly across from him, blabbing his mouth to Gaz, who acted like he could hear anything besides the huge vehicle's obscene noise. Behind the steering wheel was his Captain, Price. Although, that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not ranks, not names. Nothing was normal, and the reality outside that Humvee was something Simon, not even in his worst days, ever believed could happen.

He had witnessed bleak images. Cruelty in abundance. But the world he saw now was unlike anything he had ever seen before - the dead, roaming among the living. Not that he hadn’t encountered his fair amount of corpses, after all, that came with his job. But this, seeing the bodies of civilians, once full of life, now life-less and decaying at an evolving speed, nonetheless persisting, chasing the taste of human meet… It was different.

When the early signs of the apocalypse started to show, most of the people downplayed it, him included. He had always been a skeptic, and it just didn’t seem viable that a virus could bring down humanity with such strength. Regardless, Simon hadn’t been too worried about the so-called “end of the world”; He thought that his military ties would be enough to keep him informed with privileged intel of the real situation.

He had been deployed with the 141, far from civilization, when shit really went down. For obvious reasons, they came out empty-handed from the recon mission. Turns out terrorism doesn’t come first in the list of the insurgent’s priorities when there is a deathly virus going around. It was only at his team's fruitless attempt to land back at base that he found out that his ranks and years of service didn’t matter when the world was collapsing. They had been out for long enough that, when they came back, there was no more government in place. No hierarchy to follow, and no rules to structure society. And no one cared about them enough to let them know beforehand.

Some people had stayed in their houses, probably clutching their kitchen knives close to their hearts while they heard their neighbor's inhuman noises. Others had divided themselves into smaller groups, in the hopes of giving humanity a fighting chance. The lucky ones had made it to what once were the quarantine zones, now just simply a bigger group of people that managed to stick together and with far better resources. From there, all the typical apocalyptic mayhem developed: gangs, revolutionary groups, miracle safe spaces, cults, and so on. The chaos you would expect to see in a movie. Apparently, they weren’t that far from reality.

Along with the 141, Simon fell into the “smaller group” category - not that the four men would give humanity a fighting chance, they just didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Being military men, their lives revolved around structure and order, so it was natural for them to stick together. Whatever ties to the old world they had before had long been severed, and quickly they realized that it was less painful to hope that anyone they cared about had had the privilege of dying a quick death.

Not that that mattered to Simon either. He didn’t have anyone. So sitting at the back of that Humvee they had stolen from an abandoned base, things didn’t feel that different from what they used to be.

Soon enough, the group expanded, thanks to Soap, who had managed to fix an old radio and get in touch with a few other military personnel who were scattered around the globe. That is how they found Laswell: she had managed to seclude a select group of people from the military in one of the bases that were abandoned in the turmoil. They didn’t mention that she never tried to contact them while they were away on that recon mission, and she didn’t bring it up either. Now, over two years had passed, and the topic was long forgotten.

They were a bunch of people tied together by the hope they could still save humanity: scientists, agents, medics… Everyone had their place in the small society Laswell had created. And Simon… Well, he was a soldier. And soldiers are always useful when in the right hands. That was why things hadn’t changed much for him, and for the first time in his life, the fact that he never had a home to come back to was a relief.

Price was currently driving towards an abandoned research post, that had once been filled with people working to find a cure for the virus that plagued the world. Now, it was just a pile of junk and hopelessness, where Laswell swore they could still find valuable intel - maybe someone had forgotten to scrub their hard drive, or left behind a notebook with notes. At this point, even a post-it with bullet points would be considered a success.

As they pulled up to the location, they decided to park a few meters away from the entrance and proceeded with the skillfulness of a well-oiled machine. Soap and Gaz cleaned the era, taking out the few zombies in the vicinity with their knives, as Price and Ghost scanned for any intelligent life form that could possibly cause trouble. Not that they were expecting to find anything, it was just a precaution, as anyone who once lived there had either fled the area or become another roaming corpse.

They were about to follow the small dirt path that led to the makeshift building when Gaz held up his hand, a signal to stay put, while he used the other to hold the thermal vision glasses to his eyes. “I’m reading two heat signatures - one small and the other even smaller. Looks like it could be a woman and a child. The woman seems to be armed.”

“Let me see this, Gaz.” Says Price as he analyzes the scene himself. “He is right. Two signatures, one is armed.” Gaz makes a look of mock surprise behind the Captain, as he hadn’t just said that. He had become a lot more sassy since he could not be demoted.

“What do we do now?” Soap asks. “It’s not like we can just shoot a kid.”

Price pretends not to hear the last sentence. “I will approach, unarmed. They are probably just scared and trying to find a safe place to live. I’ll tell them we can give them some of our food if they come out and let us take a look at the place.” Before anyone can suggest an alternative, the Captain is removing his guns from the holster, and making his way towards the old science lab.

He is only a few feet away when the sound of gunshots fills the air. The bullets, all aimed just inches away from the captain’s boots, trace a line as if saying “Do not come any closer”. Immediately, the rest of the 141 aim their guns at where the shots came from, taking cover behind the trees, waiting for permission to shoot from the Captain, one that never comes.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY!” A woman’s voice rings in their ears. This confirms part of what they had seen in the thermal goggles: there was a woman inside and she was, indeed, armed.

“I just want to talk, kid.” Price states calmly, standing his ground. He doesn’t take a step forward, so the shooter doesn’t feel challenged, but doesn’t take a step back either. He is not a man that backs away from a fight. “Name’s John. No need to shoot”.

“You can tell that to your men.” The woman is positioned behind a window, the scope of her gun pointing fearlessly at the bearded man. Not expertly, Simon notes to himself, as he can see the slight tremble that reverberates through the metal parts. Although her voice screams confidence, he can tell the person behind it is not as courageous. But she would probably still shoot that gun - Simon has seen more people pulling triggers out of fear than bravery.

“Alright. Stand down, boys.” And they do. “We just want to take a look around, we don’t want trouble”

The woman laughs. “You say, as you carry automatic weapons and wear a bulletproof vest.”

“Just protecting myself from these troublesome fellas around. You know, the ones with their face falling off, trying to eat people.”

“We both know no one needs that much gear to fight some brain-dead walkers.” She doesn’t seem to want to match the light-hearted tone John is trying to bring to the conversation. “Now get out, or my men will shoot you.”

Now it’s Price’s turn to laugh. “Sweetheart, we both know there’s no one else there with you.” He puts both his hands on the shoulder straps of his vest. “That is, except for the child.”

John was just trying to assert his dominance by showing he had more information than he had let on. However, an angry string of bullets directed toward his feet, again, showed that the comment had struck a nerve. “Get out.” She said through gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear. “Or the next ones are going straight through that stupid fucking hat of yours.”

“Listen here, kid.” The Captain was angry now. He didn’t like when people commented on his hat. “I have three men ready to shoot your ass into oblivion if you don’t comply. If you can’t tell, they are military-trained, and they will have you down before you can aim at my stupid fucking hat. So quit being dumb and put that gun down.” It was surprising he had let her go as far as shooting at him twice, but he was done negotiating.

“Are you with the Resistance?” Simon almost wants to laugh at that name. The Resistance was a group that, surprise, surprise, wanted to resist the Government. People have too much faith in the Government, in his opinion, as it had crumbled before he came back from his mission. To be fair, it had been a long mission, so maybe he was being a little harsh. Now, the Resistance was a group of rebels that had nothing to rebel against, and who, ironically, had become the closest thing to a government you could have nowadays.

“No, we are not.” Simon could tell John’s patience was wearing thin. He isn’t a big fan of the Resistance either. “We are a group that’s still trying to fix things in this goddam world and that lab might have valuable information. Now let us through.”

At that, the woman puts the gun down and stands up. She probably didn’t know that, but by the tone of his Captaion’s voice, she had probably taken her last chance to avoid a conflict. “Name’s Y/N.” She says. Simon can see her face now - she looks like she is in her early twenties, with long hair tied in a tight ponytail. She disappears behind the window again, coming out the front door with a baby in her left arm and a pistol in her right hand. “I’m keeping the gun.”

“Suit yourself. Come on, boys.” With that, the three of them are taken out of their trance. He knows what they were thinking because he was thinking the same. Who in their right mind has a baby in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Either this woman was crazy brave or crazy crazy. A baby was a rare sight, a healthy one even more so. But there she stood, baby in her arms and a furious gaze.

They walk past her and her gaze only intensifies. Clearly, the woman was hiding from something, or someone. But that was neither here nor there. They were on a mission, and they were going through with it regardless. Nothing had ever stood in 141’s way.

They don’t ask the baby’s name. Simon had a feeling she might point her gun to his head if he did. Not that he was curious, he could care less about the women or the child.

She doesn’t ask their names either. After all, there is no reason for formalities. If all goes well, they will be gone as suddenly as they appeared.

Inside, the lab was what you would have expected, except for a few things that showed that someone had been living there. It wasn’t hard to find their way around the place, although incredibly annoying to do when there was a five-something-foot-tall woman following them around with a disapproving look. He understood - after all, they were in her house. However, that wasn’t even a house in the first place. Simon tried to mock an equally disapproving look while scavaging for something useful. As if reading his mind, Johnny asks “May I ask why you are living here, of all places? I mean, there are real houses across the street, lass.” Always a gentleman, he was. He could tell the scot had put real effort into that sentence not to sound judgmental.

The building wasn’t too messy, courtesy of the current tenant. It wasn’t too big either. It resembled a house from the outside, and had two stories: the bottom floor looked pretty much like a regular house. It had one room filled with a not-so-normal number of beds, a bathroom, a simple kitchen, and tables everywhere, where it looked like people used to do research and eat, probably simultaneously. The top floor, on the other hand, seemed like something from another world: Wires covered the walls, feeding energy to dozens of different lab-related equipment. Some were big, some were small, and Simon couldn’t name them if his life depended on it.

“The place runs on solar energy. So the showers and appliances installed still work. Except for the cameras, I shut them down a long time ago, along with all this science crap.” So Simon’s intuition was right, she was hiding from something, and knew too much about the place for her to just have stumbled upon it on pure luck. They had already looked at the cameras and made sure that they weren’t working. They were small, installed mostly where it looked like the scientific research went down and at the entrance. She must have been looking for them, as he was pretty sure a regular civilian wouldn’t have been able to spot all of the cameras. But she did, despite the fact that it looked like those were the parts of the house that she used the least. And although Simon's first reaction was to be suspicious, he couldn’t deny that part of him was impressed.

“Smart.” Gaz said, but his tone seemed to reflect some suspicion as well. He had been sitting down in front of a computer since they arrived, trying to recover any data, while the rest of them tossed things around. Unfortunately for them, the scientists who had previously worked there had remembered to scrub the place clean - no documents or information was left behind. “Price, I think I got something.”

Whatever Gaz had been doing in that giant computer, seemed to have worked, as it looked like files were being restored. But the victory was short-lived, and they hardly had time to gather around the machine before the energy shut down. “What happened?” Soap asked.

“I don’t know, it looked like it was working.” Gaz proceeded to furiously tap the keyboard, probably having no idea what he was doing.

“Well, get it to work again then.”

“It’s not that simple, Soap.” As fast as the power went out, it came back on, and the distinct beep of the weird machines splattered around the place could be heard again. “It seems like the whole place rebooted. It was probably easier for them to have all the controls gathered in one place. Simpler.”

But Simon wasn’t focused on Gaz’s explanation. He was focused on the cameras, that he had physically confirmed were shut down, now red light shining bright. Apparently, the machines weren’t the only thing that had turned back on. “Shit.” He heard the woman say behind him. Her face was pale, and she hugged the baby tightly, shielding the child’s face against her chest.

Whatever she was hiding, Simon was willing to bet all his money it had to do with that baby.

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Envy - Leviathan

~SFW Alphabet~

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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

🎮 Levi is affectionate in theory, not in practice. He wants to be affectionate but finds himself to be too nervous, and too insecure to do so. After all, he’s just a gross otaku. How could you possibly want to be touched by him? Takes a lot for Levi to work up the courage and ignore his thoughts of self loathing, having you praise and encourage him works wonders. It makes him really feel he is worthy. Levi still doesn’t think himself deserving, you will have to initiate contact and affection first. All the while hoping that he doesn’t pull away in fear. Levi does really like being held though and he wants to be the little spoon. Not the biggest fan of holding hands only because he needs his hands to play video games. (He’s also worried because he gets sweaty hands) Makes up for it by unconsciously wrapping his tail around you when he’s in demon form. Has a propensity for nuzzling, however one will see a very different side to Levi should any of his brothers be too affectionate with you. His envy will come out in full force and will overcompensate by smothering you in all of his reserved affection that he held back previously.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

🎮 He is the chaotic friend, one who will constantly spam you with memes, videos and pictures. He also will feed your hyper fixations if it’s something he’s into as well. He’ll check up on you and ask how you’re doing in roundabout ways. If you’re sad he’ll make sure to give you a list of really comforting and uplifting animes as well as surprise you with snacks. He’ll also suggest really wholesome and cozy games. He’s a calming presence to be around even if he’s raging about something, or rambling and going on tangents about his favourite things. He will always listen to you patiently talking about things you like. Most of your activities center around going to conventions, playing games, watching anime, reading manga and light novels or helping Levi with his cosplays. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle) 

🎮 Doesn’t mind cuddles so long as it doesn’t affect his gaming. He’ll give you some brusque attempt of saying it’s whatever even when his blushing face gives away what he is really thinking. Levi loves cuddles, he’s just too embarrassed to tell you and defaults by putting on the tsundere act to hide the fact that he is nervous. It doesn’t work because it makes him all the more adorable and tempts you to tease him. Sometimes after too much teasing he’ll sulk and go full baby mode, he’s got his arms wrapped around you from behind while you either sit between his legs or on his lap and he’s hiding his face by resting it against your back. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) 

🎮 He’s a pretty fair 6/10, with relatively good capability to clean and cook. (Total malewife material) He just chooses the instant ramen lifestyle, and can easily turn the scores into a 10/10 if he really wanted to. His sewing skills are unrivaled and you’ve never met anyone who can sew like him. Levi has never seen himself with a 3D partner, aka you. So he has settled down a lot before, all in the good ending of his various dating sims. He’s got a hardcore collection of 2D spouses, so he’s willing to settle pretty quickly after every event flag has been triggered. How does this translate into real life you may ask? If you ask him out on a date, it counts as the date event. What about after? When it comes to the dramatic backstory reveal and comfort arc…Or will he receive a sudden proposal from you. Levi will never admit it but he’s waiting. Either for the dialogue option to pop up in his status window or have you trigger the event yourself. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

🎮 He doesn’t want to face you and does not think he’ll be able to. Levi decides to text you, not great, but how else? It’s that or a handwritten letter. 3 text essays later, one character analysis with a corresponding analogy, details his breakdown and a copious amount of broken heart emojis is more or less what you can expect. He’ll end it with a parting line from one of his go to, give me strength characters. Underneath the self depreciation, comparison back and forth between himself and other characters, you’d eventually find the root of his discontent and the unrest in Levi’s heart. Of course Levi can be a bit… Over dramatic and break up with you over a mistake then apologize and take back everything he said a minute prior. He was just mad because he thought you overwrote his save file. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married.)

🎮 In the real life sense, Levi couldn’t muster an answer to that question. Sometimes he wrangles with the thought of it, wondering if he could actually get married. I mean the absolute potential for a cosplay wedding would be amazing, too amazing to pass up. However, other than that very appealing aspect he just doesn’t know. It’s not that he hates the idea, it was just a possibility he never foresaw himself experiencing. Levi never thought that he would get the chance to love someone as deeply as he loves you, or fall this hard. Especially knowing that you feel the same way about him, it’s enough to bring him to tears. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

🎮 Levi is a gentle soul who can sometimes get worked up and over zealous about something. He can get very jealous and lose his gentleness along the way but he’d never really hurt you. It’s more the accident of forgetting to regulate his strength adequately and he might grab your hand a little too hard, not enough to cause injury but the roughness of his action will make Levi feel bad. He’ll feel guilty for days afterwards. Emotionally he’s a squish, you wouldn’t say gentle since he can say some pretty sharp things in defense of what he likes but he’s squishy and easily hurt by words. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

🎮 “I-I don’t like hugs!” Is what he says, not what he actually means. Levi is way too embarrassed about PDA and he’ll combust if he had to hug you in public. He just thinks you’re so perfect and he’s well….him. Levi often hides behind this reasoning to avoid contact in public and social settings. You respect this because you don’t want him to feel pressured or awkward by your sudden affectionate gestures. Even if he’s not honest with his words. His actions will be honest on his behalf and when the two of you are alone he’ll give you lots of affection to make up for what he didn’t do in public. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-Word) 

🎮 Well Levi, our pretty boi who isn’t the most adept at conversation dropped the L-Bomb pretty quickly. Ever since the two of you crossed the threshold of crushes to actually dating, he’s emotional about it and you mean so much to him. So clearly there’s no other right answer aside from LOVE. Levi does ramble a bit, get side tracked and say that he loves his harem too, and all those 2D characters within. He didn’t mean to say that part out loud, he meant to keep it in mind but the funny little thing happened when his brain got all cross wired and you just made him so tongue tied…He should probably stop speaking even though he had already told you all his honest feelings. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) 

🎮 He isn’t the avatar of Envy for nothing, he lives up to his epithet. It’s a matter of how well he copes with his jealousy and the tendencies that come with it. You didn’t realize it at first until seeing how drastically his personality changes. Levi becomes more domineering, demanding and possessive. You might have mistaken him for the avatar of Greed. You’re his partner, so don’t pay attention to other people. How could you not notice that stupid demon clerk was flirting with you, right in front of Levi. You’re used to a shy and reserved Levi with a reluctance to PDA but when he’s jealous? He’ll have no qualms about pulling you in real close and away from whoever received too much of your attention. It’s for him, don’t go making him jealous. Levi will even ask if you did it on purpose :( “You should know better than to make me jealous…" He’d say in a low voice, uncharacteristic to him. He’ll keep you close and act needy for your attention, so you don’t need to mind other people right? When he’s finally back to his senses he’ll be incredibly embarrassed about whatever he said and did when he was consumed by jealousy. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

🎮 Levi is a real romanticist and enjoys intimate kisses, the kind that make him feel as if his heart is about to beat right out of his chest. So he’ll lighten up and kiss your forehead, your cheek or some sweet gesture of the oh so famous indirect kiss. If the mood is right, he might deliver the smoothest kiss brimming with all his suppressed passion. (Once in a blue moon) His heart is on the verge of bursting if you’re the one who kisses him first, god the way he just melted when you pressed him against the wall and kissed him. He likes when you reach up to give him forehead kisses too, or adorable little nose kisses. 

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

🎮 Little ones? Levi would rather not be around them. They stress him out more than he can handle. He’s not good at entertaining them and what constructive conversation could he have with a child? He’s heard about the wisdom that kids possess but when a kid has asked the same question six times, Levi doubts the claim. Did they say they watch anime? Okay maybe it’s doable. He’ll put something on to distract them and throw a snack at their face when he hears the tummy grumble. He does think that’s enough but no one warned him beforehand about a child’s attention span or just how inquisitive they can be. His patience snapped when one of them unboxed a figure to play with it as a toy “I’d teach my kids the value of-” The words added some insight that he has thought about his own little mini me’s before.  

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

🎮 Mornings can be a bit rough, especially after a binge. He’s only been asleep for half an hour and now he has to get up for class? The audacity of the day… He grumbles, he’s grumpy and he feels tender without adequate amounts of sleep. It wasn’t a good idea to stay up from Friday night through to Monday but he did it and now Levi feels the regret of it. He’s usually good at getting up and surviving on minimal sleep but not when he’s that sleep deprived he’d even convince you to stay with him. Acting all cuddly and pouty so he can turn you into an accomplice, “Lucifer can’t punish both of us” is his sleepy brained logic. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

🎮 Delicious snacks? Check. Backlog of anime to catch up on? Check. Game to play in the background? Check. Open monitor to peruse potential merch and cosplay specials? Check. Beverages to prevent dehydration? Check! Levi is all ready and set, locked and loaded into his plans for the evening. Which is more or less the same routine and sometimes he’ll spice it up and read manga or a light novel instead of playing a game unless it’s one that can auto farm for him. He’s pretty intense with his rituals and binging. He is impressed by your ability to keep up, truth be told Levi appreciates having someone to talk and rave to about the episode the two of you just watched or when he accidentally does something really cool in game and you were there to witness it. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while and reveal things slowly?)

🎮 Levi believes himself to be an open book or so he thinks. He also thinks that making negative jokes about himself is the same as someone getting to know him but Levi is very, very mistaken. Only when he realizes how deeply he can actually trust and rely on you is when he properly opens up his heart. Revealing his insecurities and aspirations, the true nature of things unmarred by anything else. He always worries if you’re going to judge him, he argues with his mind knowing he can trust you. Every secret he’s confided in you has never resurfaced again, he knows. You’re a safe space but it makes him feel exposed and vulnerable and that scares him. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

🎮 Can be considered patient in a normal setting. Levi hates confrontation and if anger could lead to that, he would rather avoid it altogether. Levi gets envious, and can lose his temper due to that but without that trigger he’s very much an unloaded gun. However, do something he finds trashy in a video game and watch this man RAGE. You swear he’d put Satan to shame. Perhaps Levi should have been the avatar of wrath. That’s what you think when you see him going off at the troll who just ruined Levi’s vibe with his shit plays and trashy in-game etiquette. (He’s borderline making them regret their own existence) 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or they kind of or forget everything?) 

🎮 He treats you like his favorite series. Levi knows everything about you, even the details you would classify as pointless and maybe even ‘fillers’ to your own lore. Nope he knows it, he’s memorized it. Everything you love, hate or feel lukewarm about. He knows it all. What scares you, what brightens you up and makes you cheer up on a bad day. He knows your favorite characters, the ones you crush over and can’t stand the sight of. You once jokingly asked Levi if he had some folder all about you that he can refer back to, It wasn’t a folder, it was his own personal handwritten MC Lore book that even had illustrated pictures. 

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

🎮 Remember that time you got angry and degraded Levi and he– Whoops. Wrong memory. Levi would probably say it was the first time you took him to a proper human world anime convention and even did a couples cosplay with him. He remembers the compliments and how many people wanted to take pictures with the two of you. You guided him through all the various attractions of the human world conventions that he had only ever dreamed about. There were a few things he never knew about, one of the darksides so to say was why the hell is water such a precious resource at a convention? It’s like an SS+ Weapon. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

🎮 Levi will protect you even if he’s terrified he’d also be the first person on the front lines to defend you. You can rest assured knowing Levi will always be on your side, if it’s for your sake Levi can even talk back to Lucifer if it’s in your defense. You know just how hard that can be for him, so you appreciate it. You protect Levi in the same ways, some ways you can’t protect him such as hateful comments online and the like as that’s oftentimes out of your control. But you can and will protect him from the insecurity that could bud from those hateful words. Anything you can do, you will. Levi knows that and he feels safe with you because of it. It gives him courage and confidence to see you standing by his side while silently reassuring and supporting him. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

🎮 If the consistent density of constant content taught Levi anything, it’s to keep dates, times and schedules highly organized to make sure he tends to everything. Of course Levi uses his great skills in his relationship as well. He makes sure to keep track of all dates of anniversaries, special occasions and more. Levi puts in a lot of effort into your dates and special occasions, it’s a special event after all! He wants to remind you of that. Levi himself will admit that he’s awkward and not exactly the savviest in real world romance but he tries his utmost. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

🎮 Spontaneously canceling or postponing plans because of a surprise live stream, announcement or unannounced LTE that he absolutely has to tend to. He’ll apologize, and promise to make it up to you. And so he does, it still doesn’t change the fact that you’d be all dressed and ready for a date, waiting for him to arrive only to get a rushed text that says he won’t come. You’ve expressed your annoyance at that before and how it hurts to be stood up, Levi gets that. He really does and he’s sincere in his apology but he also keeps doing it. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) 

🎮 He is conscious of his looks in a different way to what you’d expect. Levi cares more about what others think about him more than worrying what he thinks about himself. Although when he’s cosplaying he is very attentive and privy to his appearance, everything from his shoes to the makeup and wigs. It’s immaculate. You didn’t realize he’d be that good at it, Levi possessed skills that Asmo was envious over and that stroked Levi’s ego a little. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

🎮 He would notice your absence and he’ll feel it deeply. It would suck and Levi would mope or who knows how long. He’d be flooding himself with sad music, sad AMV’s and playing all of his comfort games while reminiscing about you. Which in hindsight would probably make him feel worse. He’d type out long messages, wanting to hit send but change his mind while erasing the entire text. Only then going to mope in his bathtub. (Until one day he accidentally hits send) He’d try to forget you in the process which only makes him feel more regretful that you’re not here. Sometimes you’d only be gone for 30 minutes and it would feel like an eternity. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

🎮 Levi had a ritual of kissing his body pillow collection goodnight before tucking them in and saying goodnight to each and every figure he owns. A good otaku must know how to treat their merch right obviously, you’d pout saying you wish you got the same treatment. You had meant it jokingly but ever since then Levi makes sure to always wish you goodnight and give you a little kiss and make sure you’re all tucked in and comfortable in his bathtub while he played games.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

🎮 Himself- I mean…(Moving on) 

🎮 He’s an envious person, so of course his dislike is not what he hates in a person per se but rather a quality that he admires and feel he does not possess in himself. He’d get jealous and hateful because he wishes to possess that trait for himself and not to see it in someone else. More than anything Levi gets annoyed by his own envy more often than not. It’s inconvenient to be having a good day, see something and then have his mind riddled with jealous thoughts. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) 

🎮 Well when he actually does decide to sleep, he loves it being comfy. He curls up likes a kitten and snuggles his own tail and a body pillow (or you if you’re sleeping over in his room for the night) Has a tendency to sleep talk and whine in his sleep. Letting out the cutest sounds you’ve ever heard. When you tell him about it, he’d go so far to deny it and say that you were just imagining things. Recording him didn’t help because he nearly smashed your D.D.D to hide the evidence. 

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 1 - To King's Landing

Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong (eventually lol)

Warnings: none

Prologue

Masterlist

"In 107 AC, the King held a seven-day celebration in honor of Princess Rhaenyra's tenth name day. The young Princess was named 'the Realm's Delight' by the minstrels at court. Rhaenyra was a precocious child, bright, bold and beautiful. She became a dragon rider at only seven years old, riding her yellow she-dragon, Syrax. The tourney would also mark the return of Prince Daemon to King's Landing. He spent most of his time away in the Vale, with his lady wife, Rhea Royce, and their young daughter, Princess Daena.

Princess Daena was a lively, cheerful girl only a year younger than her cousin, Rhaenyra. She became a proficient huntress in thanks to her lady mother. Some at court frowned, saying it was inappropriate for a lady to hunt down animals and cover herself in dirt and blood, but Rhea and Daemon paid them no mind, letting their daughter do what she liked. 'She's not just a lady...she's a Princess of House Targaryen. Dragons don't fear blood' Prince Daemon was heard saying in defense of his daughter."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

107 AC, King's Landing

This was Daena's second time visiting King's Landing. Well third, if you count the time her parents brought her when she was a baby so that her great-grandparents, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne could meet their newest great-granddaughter. It was said the Good Queen wept tears of joy when she held Daena in her hands for the first time. The Queen was old and frail, having to walk with a cane. Nonetheless, the Queen gave her blessing and proclaimed that Daena would be a great beauty one day.

Now, Daena and her father, Prince Daemon, were visiting King's Landing once again. This time because of her cousin Rhaenyra. Her uncle, King Viserys I, was holding a great tourney in honor of Rhaenyra's 10th name day. Even after 14 years of marriage, Viserys and his wife, Queen Aemma Arryn, only had one living child - Rhaenyra. The King was known for spoiling his only child with many things, and "seven days of celebration for her name day seemed only appropriate", according to His Grace.

Daena spent much of her childhood at Runestone. She was taught how to ride a horse and hunt with a bow and arrow by her lady mother, Rhea Royce. Her mother was a strong, intelligent woman and was the ruling Lady of Runestone. Daena was very proud to be her daughter and always strived to make her mother proud. Daena didn't look much like her mother. She looked more like her father's side of the family. With fair skin, long silver hair, and lilac eyes, she looked nothing short of a true Targaryen Princess. Nonetheless, she knew she had many other things in common with her dear mother. 

Her mother didn't join them. She said she needed to look after Runestone, that it was her duty. But even as a child, Daena knew it was because her mother never liked her father and she simply didn't want to spend time with him. It made Daena sad, that her parents disliked each other, but they tried to be cordial with one another for her sake. She once asked her parents if she would ever get a sibling. Her mother choked on her wine while her father frowned and told her not to be silly and ask stupid questions. She never asked again.

~

"Are we there yet?" Daena asked Amanda, one of her mother's nieces who went South with them. Lady Amanda was from the cadet branch of House Royce - House Royce of the Gates of the Moon. Amanda was a pretty maid of 16 summers. Nearly a woman grown, Lady Rhea sent her young niece to King's Landing to look after her daughter and also for a potential marriage.

 Amanda had long dark brown hair and round brown eyes. Daena liked her very much. She was fun and kind and taught Daena how to sew. "We'll be there in a short while, Princess," Amanda answered while looking out from the small carriage window. 

Daena didn't like that she was in a carriage. She wanted to fly with her father on Caraxes but he refused her, saying she was too young. So, she would travel by carriage. She looked out the window and saw a giant castle made of red stone. 

"The Red Keep..." Daena whispered under her breath. She has never seen King's Landing. She did visit in 101 AC, when her great-grandfather, Jaehaerys passed away. But she didn't remember much from that whole ordeal. She only remembered that everyone was sad and quiet. 

Daena was 9 years old and slightly taller than most girls her age. She was thin and slender and had long silver hair she liked to keep in a single long braid. Father said it made her look like Queen Visenya. Daena would love nothing more than to be like the legendary Visenya. 

"Do you think Rhaenyra will let me see Syrax?" Daena quietly asked Amanda. She would never admit it, but she was a bit jealous that Rhaenyra had a dragon. Daena's dark purple egg never hatched. She still had it, it was held back at Runestone, but she didn't like looking at it.

It made her sad and angry. Some kids back at Runestone would mock her and call her Daena the Dragonless. The words of her mother's House were 'We remember' and in keeping with that, she never forgot or forgave the people who mocked her. She hoped that since she was in King's Landing, she could claim an already hatched dragon. 

"I'm not sure...Perhaps a bit later." Amanda said cautiously. She knew how important dragons were to the Targaryens and it hurt her to see Daena so sad. 

"Open the gates!" A guard shouted. They were already there. They were about to enter the Red Keep! Daena sat up straight and smoothed her red and black silk dress. Her silver hair was braided at the top to look like a crown. Small ruby earrings dangled like blood droplets from her ears. The gates were opened and the carriage entered the courtyard. 

The doors of the carriage opened and Daena could see her father dismounting his horse. A page boy helped her get out. Once her feet hit the ground, a guard announced them. 

"Prince Daemon Targaryen and his daughter, Princess Daena!" Her father beckoned her over and so she quickly walked over to him. He put his arm around her little shoulders.

"Prince Daemon...Welcome..."A voice said. She finally focused on the person standing in front of the castle doors. It was Ser Otto Hightower - the Hand of the King. 

"Princess..." He greeted her as well, though he sounded and looked like he didn't want to be there. She didn't curtsy to the lord, she didn't have to as a Princess. She felt her father protectively pulling her closer to him. 

"Ser Otto...", her father managed to say through gritted teeth. Even as a child, she could tell the two men heavily disliked each other. 

"Amanda, take Daena inside. Visit the Queen if you can. I'm sure Her Grace would like that" Daemon told Amanda. The young Royce girl nodded and took Daena's hand and they walked inside. Once they reached the Queen's chambers, they entered the spacious room. 

"Princess Daena, Your Grace", a maid announced Daena. The Queen was heavily pregnant and was sitting on a chaise lounge in front of a big window and was propped up by lots of pillows. Her silver hair was down and fell freely. She wore only a nightdress and a pretty, pink, embroidered silk robe. The Queen turned her head and smiled lightly at her young niece. 

"Daena, my dear...How you've grown. I haven't seen you in ages." Aemma said softly as she looked over Daena. The young princess curtsied to Aemma. The Queen beckoned her and gave her a warm hug. 

"Your Grace," Daena said politely. 

"Come, sit here." Aemma gestured to a nearby chair. Daena sat. Aemma looked over Daena's shoulder and saw a pretty brunette in the corner. Daena noticed. 

"Your Grace, this is Lady Amanda Royce of the Gates of the Moon. She's my cousin. She came here with me, I hope you don't mind." Daena introduces Amanda to the Queen. 

"No, not at all. It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady" Aemma greets the Royce girl. 

"The pleasure is mine, Your Grace. Thank you for having me" Amanda says and bows to Aemma. The Queen and Daena talk for a while, about the Vale, about Runestone, and how much Daena has grown.

"If I may ask...where is my dear cousin Rhaenyra? I haven't seen her yet." Daena asks after a while. Aemma sighs and fans herself with a fan.

"I believe she's having her lesson with Septa Marlow" Aemma explained. Daena hums in acknowledgment. 

"Princess Rhaenyra", a maid announces after a while. In came Daena's older cousin. She was fair-skinned with pretty purple eyes. She was a bit shorter than Daena, but they both had long silver hair.

"Cousin! It's been so long!" Rhaenyra greeted Daena with a warm smile and a tight hug. 

"Nyra!" Daena exclaimed in joy. Rhaenyra greeted her mother and they talked for a few minutes.

 "Come, dear cousin. Let's go for a walk." Rhaenyra suggests and takes Daena by the hand. 

"Your Grace, I hope you have a nice day." Daena bid the Queen politely. Aemma smiled sadly at the two girls.

Daena and Rhaenyra were walking in the Royal Gardens in the afternoon sun. They sat under the weirwood and talked for hours. In the distance Ser Harrold Westerling, Rhaenyra's sworn shield, was keeping guard. At sundown, Amanda came around and told them they were summoned for supper with the King.

"Will you show me Syrax one day?" Daena asks. 

"Of course, I would love to, " Rhaenyra answers. 

"We can even fly together once she gets big enough" Nyra adds. 

Once they were ready, Ser Harrold escorted them to the dining chamber where they were to have supper. As they entered, Daena could see her uncle, the King, sitting at the head of the table. To his right was his wife, Queen Aemma, who looked tired. To his left was her father, Prince Daemon. To Aemma's right was Princess Rhaenys and her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon - the Sea Snake. Daena was surprised to see them there. Shaking her head, she sat next to her father. Nyra sat next to her. 

"Girls, we've been waiting for you for some time," King Viserys says lightly scolding the girls.

 "Forgive us, father. We were talking and we got distracted." Nyra says sheepishly. Viserys smiles and looks over to his niece.

 "Ah, Daena...I haven't seen you since you were a toddler. How you've grown..." Viserys says to Daena. She smiled awkwardly and the food was served. The adults talked amongst themselves. Daena and Rhaenyra quietly traded gossip with one other. Daena tried her best not to look at the Sea Snake and his wife. Rhaenys was her aunt, but she always found the woman kind of scary, though she would never admit it. 

After supper, Daena bid her cousin goodbye and left with her father to their chambers. 

"I'll see you in the morning Nyra" Daena says and hugs Nyra. She and her father enter her chambers. 

~

"Wow..." Daena gasps as she sees her room. Her chambers back at Runestone weren't nearly as big. 

"I already told the maids to fix you up a bath," Daemon says to her. He walks over to her and pets her head, caressing her silver hair. She hugs his waist and looks up at him with tired eyes. He smiles at her. 

"Issi ao ēdrugī, riñītsos?" (Are you tired, little girl?) He asks her. She nods her head. 

"Come here..." He says and picks her up easily and puts her down on the bed. He starts unbraiding her hair. He knew most men wouldn't even consider doing something like this. He didn't think he had it in him to be like this. So soft, and gentle...and caring. But the second he held her when she was born...he knew he would do anything for her. He would burn the entire world if it meant she was safe and sound. 

Once he was done unbraiding her hair, he turned her head toward him. He studied her face. She looked just like him. Silver hair, lilac eyes, it was all him. But she had her mother's oval face. He didn't like his wife, whatsoever. But she helped him create Daena. His precious Princess. His little girl. His little dragon. 

"I'll call Amanda. She'll help you bathe." He told her and got up to leave. Before he was able to leave, she caught him and pulled him by the sleeve of his shirt. He bent down to her level. 

"What is it, sweet girl?" He asked her. 

"Sȳz bantis kepa. Avy jorrāelan" (Good night Father. I love you) she told him sleepily and planted a kiss on his cheek. He smiled once again and kissed her silver hair.

"Avy jorrāelan tolī, dōna riña" (I love you too, sweet girl). He told her and left her chamber.

---

High Valyrian:

Issi ao ēdrugī, riñītsos? - Are you tired, little girl?

Sȳz bantis Kepa. Avy jorrāelan - Good night Father. I love you.

Avy jorrāelan tolī, dōna riña - I love you too, sweet girl.

***

Omg, the first chapter is finally here! It's mostly an introduction to Daena and it establishes many relationships that will develop/deteriorate over time.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

[spoiled-fawn]

Part 1: Meeting John Price

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 3,131 CW: None

AN: My beloved! John Price! Would love to hear your thoughts and comments, as well as any questions. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the following for the explanation and precursors to the scene!

Introduction, Biography

--------

Truthfully, you’re glad you didn't have many friends in town, as it meant no one to share unnecessary secrets with, nor did it spread any word of what you were up to in your free time. 

However, that isn’t to say that you trusted at least some people in the small town you lived in, such as your boss.

A scapegoat for you to write your correspondence letters was that you simply had to stay late on the farm, working extra long hours because of something that was messed up, or because you knew your parents wouldn’t argue with the fact that you were getting more money.

Feeling that you were a decent enough candidate for John to consider since you are working as a farm hand already, you decided to write your first correspondence the next day. Once sent, you received a letter back from him four days later and by god, did he sound like such a gentleman. 

You were able to soon confide in him on how you wanted to leave town, start fresh, but stick with what you know since you did work on the well-known “Loyal Laswell Farm,” and help out around their farmhouse with common jobs such as sewing, cooking, and even making a dirty barn looked organized- a man’s dream spouse.

With only two weeks passing and less than a handful of letters to be traded, you already had money and an open invitation to John’s ranch. Through your correspondence, John stated that he had already known of Kate Laswell, her having been a long ago buyer from him and even she had sought out advice on taking care of her lambs long ago. 

John connected the dots and realized that you were the trusty youngling that she hired early on; He already trusted your morale if Laswell had kept you after all this time. (And if Laswell did gloat about you once in a while, that was a secret between her and John.) After finding out about the mutual connection, you confided in her. 

Kate, already knowing of your family’s vices, was pleasantly surprised by your major turn of life events and how quickly your fate had been granted to you in the form of Price. She made sure your head was screwed on straight enough that if it didn’t work out, you could mail her and she would help you figure it out from there…

Kate’s wife chimed in and said you and Price would be a great fit.

The two women gave their aid to you in the form of gifting you your favorite horse to ride off on during your long journey. You only brought a handful of items from your parent's house, slowly, and used the remaining amounts of wardrobe you kept at the farm to pack up. With two bags packed and some food, feed, a gun being courtesy of Laswell’s wife, and a celebratory pack of cigars for John (Kate’s wedding gift), you were on your way. 

It only took you a week by horseback, luckily traveling near the Oregon Trail that had already had sorted paths cleared and lived-in, you only needed to stop when you and your horse did. You were able to send John updated letters, but were not able to receive them due to constantly being on the move. This left you daydreaming about him.

John wrote that he is originally from Deadwood, South Dakota. He comes from a long line of lawmen and followed in their footsteps in his early adult life. However, as John became sheriff and notorious for his hardened but fair demeanor, he began to see the justice system slip through the cracks right in front of him. Murderers would walk away and many left unjustly prosecuted in other cases. It angered and dwelled on him so much that he retired early on. John soon found his solace in the quiet mountain town of Pitkin, Colorado. John describes himself as a proud man who is protective and respectful, an old soul who loves his whiskey - and is looking for his strawberry wine. He is a weathered man who can fix any problems of yours, all at the cost of a shoulder to lean on and someone to spend the rest of his days with.

Coming into Pitkin, it brings forth a small town nestled within luscious green mountains and a strip of shops down the main road that highlights most of the town's activity. Riding through, you were an obvious sight to be had; a new face set out on a horse with minimal bags packed on the back. You didn’t seem like a traveler, no, you seemed like someone who was on a mission to find something- someone. 

Smiling and giving small nods towards those who stare, your cheeks have a faint blush from the attention as you ride down the strip and toward the end of the town. Soon, the signs have a label of a bull, a common connotation of a ranch, causing you to garner up a bit more hope and hold your head high as you click your horse into a canter. 

The sound of your horse's hooves thundering on the ground cannot beat the thrum of your heart; riding over the hill, you’re greeted with a breathtaking view of the Alpine mountains that dip into a valley with an absurd amount of leveled planes that make you believe the land was spread flat by an inviting entity. Your eyes come into focus on small black dots that move before you make out to be the shape of cattle grazing across the green and flowing grass.

There sits a house atop the hill that is before the dip of the valley, where a fence surrounds a large barn that is directly adjacent to the house. You bring your horse to a slow walk as you take in the view of the wooden house; it's a cabin-styled home but large in the additions that have been formed around the sides, making it one of the bigger houses in town. The barn rivals its size by double, and the open stalls along the side let you glimpse into the hay-filled homes of horses that linger near the fences. You have to do a double take when you see movement in the barn that is all too human-like, then pulling the reigns of your horse once a few feet away from the entrance to stop and watch. 

A man stands, low grunts leaving him as he stretches his back before grabbing a hay bayle and beginning to break it up. He wears a worn-out pair of jeans and a cowboy hat as his low whistling breaks the silence between the surrounding horses neighing at your new appearance. In an instant, you know immediately this is John.

To your surprise, your horse greets the others in a sharp jeer of noise, causing him to turn around in surprise his eyes dart up at you.

For a second, you’re humored at the look he gives, not expecting something so sweet as you to ride into his ranch and most likely expecting someone within the town to come to bother him. 

But in an instant, he knows exactly who you are. 

After his shock wears off, he sets down the hay and reaches up to take his cowboy hat off and place it on his chest as he walks toward you. Letting out a low whistle, his eyes roam over you with an enamored stare. “God was just showin’ off when he made you, sweetheart.” Comes the low timbre of his voice, sending a small fire of desire shimmying through your vertebrae. 

A soft smile graces your face in return, halting your horse for the time being as he comes up to you. “Good morning sir, would I be right to assume that you are John Price, the owner of this ranch?” You ask after a moment of your eyes trailing over him, taking in his face and ice-blue eyes while he approaches to help you down from your horse.

“That I am, Sweetheart. And I suppose you’re the one that I’ve been lookin’ so forward to meetin’, that right?” He asks in return, a small smirk taking his lips while he helps you lower down from the saddle. You smile at the extended hand, taking it as you swing your opposite leg out of the stirrup while feeling the touch of his other hand coming to caress your hip in a gentle fashion.

"I hope you've been as comfortable as one can be on a week-long ride," John comments softly, keeping his hand on you once you're firmly planted on the ground as his eyes scan you from head to toe. "How you feelin’?" He asks sweetly, now finding your eyes with genuine affection in his tone.

In response to his lingering touch on your hip, and feeling it travel to your waist with a brief squeeze before he lets it fall, you give him a small squeeze of the hand you're holding to. “Not too shabby; was able to get a room a few of the nights along the way. I’m thankful for the good weather I had while getting here.” You respond as you shift your saddle-sore hips for a moment and reorient your limbs to standing. 

"You're not so shabby yourself, sweet thing'." He compliments softly as he releases you, then grabs your horse’s bridle and releases the bit before attaching his own lead to it, and a small feeling of surprise crosses your mind at how easily he handles new horses. Then, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on. Let me show you around." John leads with comfortable confidence, letting your horse sniff him while leading him to an open stall with some water and feed. 

“Thank you for letting me bring my stallion here, Laswell gifted him to me when I was sayin’ goodbye. Said you may remember him from when he was a foal?” You prompt with a tilt of curiosity at the edge of your words while you join them in the stall to unload your bags and take the saddle off.

Looking back towards him, his eyes are looking over the horse for any identifiers, hints that would make him remember. “Not quite sure I remember this one, sweetheart. He got a name?” John asks in response once finished doing a sweepdown of his mane and a quick swipe of his hair coat.

“Laswell said he’s always been named Captain.” You answer curtly, now looking to see his reaction, if any.

It takes a moment for you to narrow in on the way the left side of his mustache twitches slightly before he breaks out into an all-out smile. “Well, I’ll be damned…” John trails out as he moves back towards Captain's head.

His blue eyes shine in the light of the barn windows, meeting yours for a moment while a boyish charm takes over his face. “This slick bastard got you all the way over to me?” John speaks with a gruffness that intertwines with amusement; the way his hands move to rub over the horse's forehead and nose showcases a glimpse of a gentle side reserved for his animals.

As you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, John catches your expression and gives a hearty chuckle in response. “I helped birth this one the day that Kate came up here to buy some lambs. Her wife was cryin’, thinking that him and his momma were gonna die.” He answers before moving to give Captain a pat on his chest, a huff of his breath coming out in response. 

“He had both him’s front legs back during contractions. Had to help the mare by pushing his fat head on in to get him to readjust. Kate and her wife saw the whole thing.” He finishes with a hum and a distant look in his eyes only for a second, now coming back to your side and picking up a bag of yours.

“This all you got? Woulda expected a bit more from a woman movin' out west, especially to the cold mountains.” He states with a cocked eyebrow, eyeing as you bend down to hoist the remaining bag over your shoulder. You both give Captain a farewell tap before exiting the stall and heading towards Johns's house.

You wait on replying for a moment as you take a longer look at the structure, noting the wooden panels that exude a warm and weathered patina, a testament to the house's endurance against the harsh elements of the wild. The front features a symmetrical facade, with a steeply pitched gable roof that displays a combination of wooden shingles and iron accents. Windows are evenly placed on the front-facing sides of the house, and shutters open to allow glimpses into the inside.

“Didn’t have a lot to bring if I’m being honest. Just packed up what I liked and wanted, then left.” You answer with a confident nod, leaving it at that. “I did plan on finding some new or old fabrics to start making winter coats for myself.” You add on quickly, thinking over how quickly the chill must set in within the mountain valley.

You follow John onto the front porch of the house, “Ah, you do some of that fancy work or just plain work?” He inquires while gesturing for you to step inside the entrance. You’re greeted by a spacious entryway, designed to be practical and modest. The floors, made of polished wide planks, creak softly under the added weight of yourself next to John, a new soul to provide protection to in the house.

To the front of the entryway, is his living room, its centerpiece being a grand stone fireplace, providing warmth and comfort during the chilly evenings. Leather upholstered furniture invites warmth to the house, and you can see a good amount of hides used as a rug and even a throw blanket over the couch, while ornate coffee cans and some intricately shaped vases linger around the surfaces. 

The sound of your mouth opening and closing resonates in the silence of you two standing there before John shuts the door softly behind you and ultimately snaps you out of your daze. “Um, just some plain work. Never had the time or materials to work on some fancy clothes, would rather make things I know I’m gonna use.” You answer while moving to face adjacent to where he stands in front of the door.

His eyes track your own as your attention comes back to rest on him, a small smirk tugging on the edge of his mouth. With a quick laugh, he moves to place his left hand along your back, his cold fingers sliding to the place between your shoulders. “Welcome home, Sweetheart.” He smiles while speaking softly, leaning over to place a light kiss atop your head. 

When he moves back from your space, which you want to ultimately follow as you feel his warmth radiate next to you and already adore the way his voice dips impossibly lower when speaking so gently, his hand slides down to the small of your back and gives a small tap to lead you forward. “Come on, let's get you settled in.” He beckons you while walking to a door that is adjacent to the entrance.

Walking in, John’s bedroom exudes a haven, signifying his rest and relaxation at the end of the day. The warm, earthy tones of the wood and furniture create an internal warmth, in contrast to the view of the surrounding mountains of green and glimpse over the cattle that wander the land, the windows laden with lace curtains.

The bed was the average size for the master bedroom; The double bed sat its headboard against the wall to the right of the entrance, facing the windows. A large red quilt adorns the bed while the bed itself is a robust wooden frame with upright pieces of carved and sanded wood posted taller at each corner of the bed.

In the corner is another stone fireplace, where an armchair sits to serve as a place for John to unwind, read a book, or reflect on the day. A well-worn wooden dresser stands against one wall, its surface adorned with a few cherished mementos - a faded photograph of him on a horse, a weathered pocket watch that has seen countless sunsets, and a small collection of polished rocks, each one possibly a reminder of a special moment.

"It's not much." He pauses before speaking again, his tone becoming more personal. "And I'd love to have you share my bed when you're comfortable. However, if you need time to adjust, I can set myself up in the living room. I don't wish to pressure you if you're not comfortable yet."

The sweet and respectful offer doesn’t fly over you, and a small smile rises over your lips. “Thank you, John. That’s awfully considerate of everything you’re doing for me. I don’t want to burden you with sleeping on your own couch, I wouldn't mind.” You answer while slowly walking to the dresser, placing your bag down by the foot of it.

“It may take a few days to adjust and get to know you, but-” you take a second to turn around and look at his form with a small shy smile, “I don’t think I’ll keep you waiting long.” You finish as a soft blush rises to the apples of your cheeks. Your hands come to interlace together in the front of your lap as his heavy footsteps make their way towards you with a bright smile that borders a smirk.

He stops in front of you, holding eye contact as he places your other bag down. “Ain’t no way in hell I’d be letting you sleep on the couch, sweetheart. But, I do look forward to hearing your answer. When you’re ready for it.” He speaks in a gruff voice, eyebrows raised to make sure you're taking his answer to heart and understanding, his warm hands moving to enclose both of yours within his grasp.

Bringing your hands up to his lips, you watch with rapt attention at his mouth puckering and in turn, making his facial hair move in the action, then leaving a warm and gentle kiss on the back of each hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours while doing so, his blue eyes bring an inviting wave of ice- the kind you actively seek when you’re feeling too hot or need to wake up. “Now, how about I show you the rest of the ranch, babydoll?” He asks with a soft grin, pulling you just a fraction closer by the grip of your hands.